October 20, 2070—Monday
27 December 05 - 6:07 pm
Stuffershack breakfast. Sigh… I miss my kitchen. Anyway, Jerk contacted a robotaxi carrier and arranged for one to pick us up. The chapter house is an hour south of Orkland; we hopped on a freeway and the going was smooth. The address we punched into the taxi took us to a residential area similar to Orkland but nicer; more kept-up. Our buzz by the place showed us a two-story bungalow built on an incline (like most of SF) with the second floor hanging out over first. No backyard that we could see. Small alleys ran between each house (about 5 feet wide). Lou reported that the neighborhood as a whole had a few spirits patrolling as watchdogs but the chapter house has one all of its own, in addition to other magical defenses. Jerk said there was strong wireless signal dampening around the place and a device out front offering a public node to advertise the Southern San Francisco Cosmopolitan Boys Club. Hitomi recognized weapons hardpoints on either side of the door, probably automatic.
That was pretty good for just breezing by the house, but we wanted a closer look. We pulled the robotaxi over a couple blocks away and pitched ideas at each other. The best one we came up with was to have someone (me and Delta) walk casually by and scope it out at close range. I don’t know who thought to turn me into a dog, but somehow that became part of our brilliant scheme and Lou cast the spell so successfully that I became some sort of super-powered Irish wolfhound. Feeling my new body’s strength coursing through my muscles, I laughed for joy and startled myself with a bellowing bark. I sprang out of the parked van, ran full-tilt down the street to feel the stretch of my new (four) legs, then wheeled back toward my teammates, and frisked energetically around the vehicle as Delta got out and the others watched me.
“I think Fox likes being a dog!” Hitomi laughed. After shaking myself all over in an effort to shake off some excess energy, I pranced about to communicate my desire to get this plan moving. Jerk logged himself into Delta’s commlink so he could see what she saw and the two of us took our constitutional around the block.
The chapter house had a solid concrete wall wrapped around the back of building, which we followed until we reached the alley. Delta steered me down the alley which was dark and definitely cooler than the street. As we stepped past the intersection of the street and the alley, we saw a balcony overhanging the wall with a sliding door to the inside. A human gentleman with an Asian cast to his features was standing on the balcony, wearing an upper-middle class suit and shades. He didn’t react to us as we strolled past. The alley let us out by the front of the building, where we saw a young man dressed in jeans and t-shirt, knocking on door. We just walked past and met up again with the robovan.
Over lunch (in which I didn’t partake due to my form), Jerk did a bit of research and informed us that the guy on the balcony was in fact our Mr. B. Omegu. Lou suggested we kidnap and question him and since no one else had any ideas, that became our plan. It got fleshed out to: Delta disguises Hitomi to look like a young man again and the two of them (with me by their side) knock on the door and pretend interest in joining the Southern San Francisco Cosmopolitan Boys Club. Once the door opens, I bound in like a stupid, enthusiastic dog and nab our target, with Jerk and Lou serving as technological and magical back-up.
Had I the power to speak while this plan was being formed, I might have mentioned how idiotic it was, but the fact was I was looking forward to trying out my new, powerful body and didn’t really care if we ended up having to fight our way out through droves of brainwashed Humanis boys.
So the three of us jandered up to the door of the chapter house and rang the bell for service, as the little sign directed us. A Japanese gentleman in his mid to late twenties wearing corp casual opened the door and said, “Good afternoon.” Beyond him I could see an open airy main room, a trio of couches arranged in a semi-circle with twenty to thirty young men jammed on and around them. In front of them stood an easel and older gentleman who had evidently been lecturing his pupils. He turned to see who was at the door and I immediately recognized him from the Matrix vid as Omegu.
Mouth open in a stupid, lolling grin, I bounded up to Omegu and pretended dog-like friendliness; I didn’t have to hold the act for long, though, as Hitomi whipped out a pistol and put a hole in the shoulder of the guy who opened the door. The boys all screamed and dove behind their couches. And to think I had been nervous for a moment at the thought of battling nearly 30 people at once!
In amazingly fast response, Omegu pulled a pistol on Hitomi, but in his haste he missed her entirely. Delta stepped in the house and shot out one of Omegu’s kneecaps. I was a little worried about the amount of blood that came spilling out of the man we wished to interrogate, but unbelievably he remained standing. I leapt up and planted my front paws on his chest, with as much force as my wolfhound body and Adept powers could muster. That knocked him out immediately. Hitomi zipped up to the body, hoisted him onto her shoulders and booked it toward the van. I backed up to guard Delta as she made her way of the house and we all headed for the van at full speed. I caught sight of two bodyguard types coming from the back of the house just as we crossed the threshold and the doors seemingly closed of their own volition; Jerk must have gained control of the building, so I could be assured that the house’s gunpoints wouldn’t start raining ammunition on our retreating backs.
Once in the van, which Jerk had rigged to exceed the legal speed limit, we hightailed it out of the neighborhood and headed for Orkland. Lou finally dropped the spell on me and reported that while we had been battling, he had killed the house’s watcher spirit and asensed a weapons focus on one of the boys in the living room. Jerk had indeed acquired administrative access to the chapter house’s defenses and then copied the IC and anything else he could get his mitts on before stomping Omegu’s commlink so no one could track us. Lou tended to our captive’s leg wound as best he could so he wouldn’t die before we were done with him.
Circling in a neighborhood near Jazz’s community center, we found an empty office building with underground parking. When we entered, squatters scattered and the Jerk parked the van in an unused, Matrix-free area. We tied the unconscious Omegu to a chair we found in the dumpster and like last time, Lou cast a mind probe on the man. We formed a circle around the chair with Lou behind him where he couldn’t see, and woke him up for questioning.
He came awake quickly and did not struggle or make any distressed noises. He just glared at us with dignity and said, “So this is the part where you ask me questions, huh?”
“I would have thought the ropes tying you to the chair would have tipped you off,” sneered Delta before cutting right to business. “So why are you and your lovely club of boys trying to drive the upstanding citizens of Orkland out of their homes?”
He didn’t answer, but of course that didn’t matter. Lou told us what images he could see in the man’s head:
A small Humanis rally of about thirty people; a man in red robes with his fist in the air. Behind him, a picture of Golden Gate Bridge.
A large, half-completed, circular building rising from a location on bay; it seems to be a big chunk of the area where orks are being attacked
The completed version with a lot roads leading in: an arcology. A number of lights and MCT emblazoned in laser light show.
“How does Phoenix interact with your disgusting part of the world?” Delta continued, ignoring Omegu’s stiffening when he realized he was being mind-probed. Lou sees:
An older man of Asian decent—though not Japanese—speaking with Omegu; Omegu receiving a credit transfer. The older man is in a dark blue shirt and a charcoal suit with a small company pin on his lapel, but Omegu didn’t pay much attention to it, so the image is too blurry for us to discern what it is.
“What’s the name of the gentleman in the dark suit and what is his corporate affiliation?” she asked.
“Will you get out of my head??” he screamed, but couldn’t prevent Lou from getting:
Mr. Brünswald, accompanied by a string of dracoform footage; images of Dunklazan and Lofwyr.
Digging quickly through Omegu’s commlink, Jerk confirms he had had three transactions with Mr. Brünswald (15,000 nuyen each), which were immediately shuttled off into another account. There was a different account number each time, but the commlink gave them all the same identifier.
“What are do the dragons have to do with this?” Delta asked, a note of perplexity creeping into her voice.
“My employers are powerful people.” Image of pearls.
“How many local cells are there?”
“A few.” More images of the rally meeting.
“What are your organization’s plans for the future?”
Omegu shrugged calmly. “Recruiting drives among the children. Gather more initiates into the flock.”
“What are you going to do with these new recruits?” Delta probed.
“Human-centric activities.” Whatever image came into his head at the point caused Lou to choke on a surprised laugh, but he did not relate it to the rest of us.
Suddenly, as Delta opened her mouth to ask something else, an earth elemental erupted from the earth and crushed Omegu’s head in his mighty hand before any of us had a chance to stop him. Jerk immediately started the van to get us the hell out of there as Hitomi fired her pistol into the creature; the bullet connected and tiny cracks radiated out from the impact, but they disappeared almost immediately. She fired again and a chip of earth flew off its shoulder. Delta fell back toward the van, fired her gun and missed. I aimed a kick at the elemental, but it blocked me rather painfully. I did manage to damage it a bit, though, as flakes of mud fell from its arm. Lou threw a Mana Bolt and a crack appeared on its body that did not disappear. Hitomi blasted the elemental twice, but again the bullets rebounded. I lashed out again and had the satisfaction of seeing another crack appear in his flesh, though Hitomi’s bullets continued to bounce off it. The elemental slugged me in the shoulder which hurt like a demon; my teammates kept firing wildly, Delta finally sinking some ammo into him, until I leapt up in the air and planted my stiletto heels in his face with an almighty kick. The creature discorporeated, leaving us with a very dead Omegu and most of our questions still unanswered.
Now what?
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October 19th, 2070—Sunday (later still)
27 December 05 - 09:12 am
The interview went fairly well from our perspective. The kid was stubborn and vituperative, but Lou cast such a deep mind-probe it gave him a raging headache afterward and we were able to get all the information the kid had to give us. Delta asked questions as I held him aloft by his collar.
“What’s your name?” she asked first.
“Darren,” he spat back defiantly.
“Last name?” she probed. This he wouldn’t answer, but Lou heard it rattling about in his head and relayed “Kestrel” over our commlinks.
“How did you end up working for Phoenix?” Again, the kid’s mouth was shut tight, but Lou discerned that they were contracting with Phoenix through a branch of Humanis. No big surprise there.
“Someone is paying you to beat up random metahumans?” Delta asked. No, it seemed someone was paying them to beat up specific metahumans.
“Who has Humanis been paying you to beat up?” Not a useful question, as we just got back “Metahumans, of course.”
“Just to beat them up?” Now we were getting somewhere, as the purpose of these attacks turned out to be to encourage them to move out of the area.
“How to they get you the names?” she continued. Lou muttered the answer over the commlink: “At their chapter house.”
“And where’s the chapter house?” Darren screwed up his eyes in concentration, trying to obfuscate his thoughts, but Lou snatched it up anyway: “3166 7th Street.”
“How many other groups like you are there?” At this, Darren finally burst out, “Hundreds! All across the country! And we aren’t going to sit still until all the trogs are out of the city!” He continued his zealous blithering for a few moments before I shook him a bit to get him to shut up.
“Is there a Mrs. Kestrel, parents, siblings?” Delta queried. Darren looked away and refused to answer. Lou said, “He’s alone. His whole family was killed by trolls.”
No one seemed to have any more questions for him. I let him drop to the floor and we saw that his unconscious friend was now dead. Lou suddenly sagged to the ground as he let his spell drop and cradled his head in his hands.
“What should we do with this filth?” Delta asked. “It seems unwise to leave him alive, but I don’t want to kill him in cold blood.”
“Leave him to the mercies of the ork gangers,” I said. “They are the ones who deserve vengeance against him.” So Jerk made a call to Brick and told him where he could pick up what was left of their persecutor.
We ourselves retreated to a nearby coffin motel called EZ Rest. Ugh. I loathe coffin motels. I get claustrophobic in those narrow cells where you can’t even sit up properly. I was tempted to sleep outside on the roof.
After digging around in the commlink we found on the gang’s leader, an Amerindian named Tyrol Rispoli, Jerk found out that they had been on their way to harass a Matthew Smalls and called Jazz to warn him. “Thanks for the heads-up,” he said. “We’ll be sure to keep an eye on the old man now that we know he’s a target.”
“The geezer let us talk him, you tink?” Jerk asked and Jazz shrugged and gave us his LTG number. Delta punched it in and got an answer but no image.
“Who is this?” we heard a querulous old voice demand.
“Good evening, sir. We wanted to wanted to warn you that we have intercepted a gang of Humanis members—” Click. The old guy hung up. Delta rolled her eyes and called back.
“Excuse me, sir, but we have learned that they were looking for you. Unfortunately, we killed quite a few members and didn’t get enough info out of them. Has anyone been harassing you to move out?” Delta spoke very fast to get all the words out before he could hang up again.
“They sure have! Every day for two weeks!” he screeched and started rambling about no-good kids and what the world was coming to.
“Sir,” she interrupted as politely as possible, “if you contact us the next time they call you back, we’ll track them down for you. Have they given you any reasons why they want you to move?”
“Hrmph. Something about ‘this neighborhood isn’t made for us,’ but I’ve been here since the ‘20s and I ain’t leaving!” and again he went into a tirade about the neighborhood going downhill since he was a kid. Eventually Delta had to shout her goodbyes and simply hang up on him.
Jerk did a bit of research on recent sales in this area which indicated that property is expensive but for some reason no one is buying it. He also discovered that the chapter house is a private residence owned by a certain B. Omegu.
We put off further plotting and research until the next morning so we can all get some sleep after a long, interesting day.
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October 19th, 2070—Sunday (later)
04 December 05 - 1:12 pm
It was pretty decent of Gabel to hook us up with business class seats for our HST flight to CalFree State. The ride was uneventful, and better yet, so was our passage through customs. We managed to slide right through, despite packing plenty of heat and steel. Gable knows what he’s doing.
We were met at the terminal by a tall ork gentleman in fashionable business threads holding a sign reading “Mr. Gabel’s Party.” Hey, that’s us. We flagged him down and he introduced himself as Jewel. “Let me take you to your car,” he said with a slight bow, and ushered us out of the building. In the car park was a van with a tall elf in the driver’s seat. Jewel did his best butler impersonation and opened the door for us. I was pleased to see it had limo-style seating; a ring of bench-seats around the entire back part of the vehicle. Gabel has us riding in style. I could get used to this. The driver’s voice intoned, “It will be just a moment before we reach our destination; please help yourself to some beverages in wet bar.” I made myself a small gin and tonic, while Hitomi threw back a quick shot of vodka and grinned at me. In about 20 minutes, we arrived in a seedy area on the outer edge of the downtown San Francisco sprawl. The driver stopped outside a Laundromat and Mr. Jewel said, “Your contact can be found inside.”
Peering outside the window at the dilapidated neighborhood, so striking in contrast with the luxurious backseat we were in, I sighed resignedly and stepped out. I prefer jobs with more posh surroundings, but hey. Anything to pay the rent. The Laundromat was busy, packing with folks doing—what else—their laundry. The instant the door opened, I was hit with a wave on noise, heat, and the overwhelming stench of cheap dryer sheet perfume. Revolting. A skinny brat in a faded Darwin’s Bastards t-shirt spotted us and shouted from the back of the room, “HI! OVER HERE! You here for a meet?” We walked over to him and Delta leaned down by his ear. “Yeah,” she said, “but it’s a lot more discreet if you don’t shout.”
“Oh, right,” he said, unabashed. “Come on, I’ll take you!” There were a few doors lining the back of the room, and the kid led us to the third one on the right, marked “Office.” Delta opened the door and we saw a tiny office with a dwarven woman at a desk that nearly filled the room. She was wearing her hair in a magnificent set of dreadlocks and mirrored glasses on her forehead. When the door opened, she looked up, nodded quickly and glasses fell down onto her nose.
“Oooh,” she said in a slightly distressed tone, “there is no way of getting all you in this room. Let’s go out onto the street for a bit.” I was relieved we weren’t expected to do a clown-car trick by cramming all seven of us in her office, but I didn’t like the idea of holding a meet in the street. Fortunately, she headed into a next-door Chinese restaurant and we hunkered down into a big booth.
“My name is Noreen,” she said, and Delta introduced herself in turn. Noreen nodded. “I’m a faculty member at the People’s University of San Francisco. I was told you were a reliable group who could help us out. While we cannot offer payment, there is probably something in it for you if you assist us.” I exchanged glances with the rest of my teammates. That is not my favorite opening to job negotiations.
Noreen continued, “The PU has been a way for the underprivileged and non-Japanese to get education in this city. But ever since Mitsuhama Computer Technology started up here, they have been getting LoneStar to bust up our classes, despite the fact that PU school sessions don’t violate any law. It’s hard to hold an academic year together when most of your students have been arrested. This is not the kind of attention we are looking for.
“What we want is to get MCT off our back. The best way that I can see to do that is to convince them we’re not a threat. So I’m hoping that you could help take the pressure off of us a bit by making another group look a little more interesting. The group we had in mind is a Humanis polyclub that has been set up in town for many years now called the Night Ragers. With the added funding and ideological bulwarking that the Japanese have brought in the city, they have been causing a lot of problems in Ork Land recently and we know that some of them have been snitching on our academic sessions. We were wondering if you had any ideas… actually, I don’t want to know.” Noreen shook her head to herself. “If MCT had reason to think that the Night Ragers were more of a threat to their corporate plans than we are, we’d be appreciative. We have reason to believe that the Night Ragers are getting funding from Japanese interests coming in the city. Maybe you can get funding that way. You were recommended to us by Gabel who has been a friend to the PU.”
There was a small moment of silence as we mulled over this story. Delta smiled at her and asked if we could have a day to talk it over before we accepted or declined the job. Noreen agreed, gave us her contact info, and paid for lunch before she left us. The food turned out to be a lot better than I had been expecting, considering the quality of its surrounds.
“So,” I said, opening discussion on the job after we’d decimated the Governer’s Pork and fried rice. “We need to find out what MCT would find threatening; who is paying Night Ragers; specific information about higher-ups and operations of the Night Ragers; possibly a way to turn Night Ragers against MCT so they continue to aggravate them once we’ve left. And on top of it all, we need to find a way to make money.”
“Oueh,” said Lou. “That about sums it up.”
“Fabulous,” I groused. “The only thing I like about this run so far is the chance of kicking some Humanis ass. Where do we even start?”
“Feel no way, dawta,” Jerk said, grinning. “Mi get da labrish.” And spaced out for a moment as he searched, then recited a pile of general info about MCT. They are new in town; the media is all over how they are setting up their headquarters here and are rebuilding the Superdome (now dubbed the Mitsuhama Superdome), which fell into disrepair during General Saito’s reign. The grand opening will be in about 3 weeks. Also of note is that Sacramento is now being reinstated as capital of the new CalFree state. While Sacramento has been the traditional seat of government for many years, when Saito took over San Francisco, Sacramento was completely ineffectual and collapsed entirely after the overthrow. The San Francisco political complex is scheduled to open in four months’ time and elections are in 6 months.
“Fantastic,” Lou said. “We just blow up the Superdome and we can destroy sports, Humanis, and MCT all at the same time!”
“Sorry,” Jerk shrugged after his recital. “Is no wurd on dem Night Ragers. Jes da media stories on der activities.”
“I guess we’re going to have to track them down through more old-fashioned means,” Delta said. “Let’s go to Orkland and ask around.”
So we took the subway across bay and caught a bus to Orkland from Halferville. The bus dropped us off right by the community center, which we had gathered from news-postings is—surprisingly enough—the center of the community. Most of the people disembarking from the bus were orks, giving us humans funny look. Delta in her elf guise got rather more hostile glances. When we reached the community center, we could see someone had painted a great streak through the A in Oakland and turned it to an R: thus, Orkland. There was a group of youngsters gathered outside the area playing basketball. Some of them see us coming and motion the rest over.
“Hey,” said one to Jerk, “what are you doing with these breeders?”
“Skraa,” said Jerk, greeting him in Or’zet. “I and I's huntin' smadi down.”
“Who?” the ork leader threw back suspiciously.
“Humanis.”
The other grinned slowly and savagely. Turning to a kid next to him, he said, “Din’t Jazz get roughed up by one of those breeder scum a couple days ago?” and the kid ran down the street, apparently to retrieve this Jazz. Back to us: “He was just walking home minding his own and a couple guys jumped him in an alley.” He clenched his fists. “So why you looking for Humanis? Just looking for some fun?”
Lou interjected, “We’ve been itching since we blew into town. It’s going to be a real blood tornado.”
The other looked approving. “The name’s Brick,” he said, proffering his hand. “Can I help you? ‘cause I got a crew.” Lou shook his hand and did not reject the offer. Brick invited us into the community center to wait for Jazz and talked about his crew, a gang called The Second Street. Finally, a large troll ducked into the doorway, hobbling on crutches. He looked pretty beat up: one black eye, some obvious bruises on face, and evidently some damage to his leg. He looked down and us and says, “Whachoo want?”
“We heard you got beat up by Humanis.” Lou said.
“Yeah. What’s that to you?”
“We’re looking for them. Who was it?”
Jazz looked us up and down for a moment and glanced at Brick before letting down his reservations and becoming downright friendly. “Well, there was four guys;, three of them were pale-skins, but one looked Japanese and all of them had on masks. Red masks that covered their faces and were pulled back over their heads so I couldn’t even see their hair. Like they were wearing bandanas with the mask. Let’s see, they roughed me up pretty good, so I don’t remember a whole lot of it. I was walking home from a baseball game—we won, by the way—and they jumped me after my friends left me. The Japanese guy was wearing one of those corp t-shirts you see, with logos on them. It had looked like a bird with its wings around a sun.”
Jerk held up a hand while he searched the Matrix for a corp logo that matched. He found a picture of Phoenix Technologies— formally a subsidiary of Pueblo Corporate Council and recently purchased by MCT—and when he showed it to Jazz, the troll said, “Yeah, that’s it, that’s the company! That Japanese guy just stood back while the others beat me up, got in a few kicks himself. Had designer shoes. The other guys were dressed pretty normal, though. I think the Japanese guy must have been slumming.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“Yeah, Mom made me call LoneStar. They ‘filed it.’ So what you going to do when you find these guys?”
“We’ve been hearing that Humanis has been a bitch recently and we want to sent them a message that that’s not okay.”
“Yeah, man. If you ever need help, tell Brick. We always hang around here, keeping the community center safe for the old folks.”
Lou thanked him for his help and we headed to the corner of 4th and Evergreen where Jazz said he’d been jumped. Not too interesting; on one corner of the intersection was what used to be a coffee shop but is now a burned out wreck and a whole pile of ratty-looking structures nearby.
“So what are we doing here, exactly?” I asked. “Trolling Orkland for Humanis?"
“Ha, ha,” replied Lou. “There might be clues here.” He took a peek in astral space, finding a whiff of the event’s violence. He was able to take us to the exact spot between the coffee shop and the apartment building next to it. It looked as though they hit him on the street and dragged him into the alley where they went to work on him. No surprise here, Lou felt an overwhelming sense of fear and anger lingering in the area. In the meat world, we found a little bit of blood, though it could only be Jazz’s.
Jerk did some data search while we walked over there: Phoenix Technologies is a data processing company that was based in LA, but when the flood came in, their headquarters were washed out and a lot of their physical assets were compromised. MCT bought them out and moved them up to San Francisco as a consolidation move. The folks setting up the SF government were originally part of the Phoenix name. While Phoenix Tech still ostensibly exists, word on the corporate rumor boards is that most of its assets, data, and personnel have been redistributed. The company that has gotten most of the data is Cosmopolitan Information Systems. One question that remains is what is Phoenix Tech doing now?
Rather empty-handed, we headed back to the bus station when suddenly, a malicious human laugh rang out. Rounding the corner came four nasty-looking teenage boys.
“Hey, what are you two doing in this neighborhood?” their leader challenged shrilly, pointing at Lou and Jerk. “We’re taking the neighborhood back from fraggers like you!”
All five of us turned to face them fully. I got a savage grin on my face and went into a fighting stance. Delta threw her arms out to stop the rest of us from advancing on them and said very clearly to the boys, “We are all very well armed and trained to kill. I would advise you to turn around and leave.”
The leader sneered at her. “You don’t scare us, you fraggin’ keeb! Any fragger who takes up with trog scum is dead meat to us.” And they advanced. Hitomi, who was sitting on Lou’s shoulders, whipped out her Ares Predator and blasted a round into the leader. I saw Jerk hit the ground out of the corner of my eye as I planted my magically-charged palm into the nearest guy’s solar plexus. He hit the ground too, though much less voluntarily than Jerk did. Unfortunately, I left myself open for his buddy’s attack and he managed to smack me pretty good. Ow. Lou sent a mana bolt at the fourth kid and a gash opened up on his check, bleeding heavily. Hitomi got out another shot at the guy who hit me, but he kissed the dirt and the bullet missed. But now that his face was next to my heels, I introduced them. And that pretty much put all the guys out of commission. Ha.
I was shivering with the rush of adrenaline and feeling very good, but too late I realized how overmatched these kids were. We wanted them alive for questioning, but the leader and one of his buddies was already dead, and a third one was slipping too fast for us to fix up. Oh well. Jerk snatched up the leader’s image shades and commlink and the rest of us hauled the sorry punks up and into the coffee shop, out of sight.
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