Companero

IN THE BAR... (or leaving it)

JJ nods. "You'd better be..."

She hands the shotgun back across the table, having taken Weasel's cash when it was offered. The girl looks scared, and its clear she didn't hear any of what was said. JJ kneels down and put her arms around the girls shoulders... "don't be too long..."

Out onto the street... Early evening, not so many people on the street as there might normally be, and a distinct edginess abounds... Broken neon lights, vendors, smell of kebabs and alcohol and illicit substances wafting through the air...

As for entrance to the sewers, it shouldn't be too hard to find a manhole cover or ventilation shaft into the subway on one of the backstreets. The way in from the Hole is very firmly blocked...

(OOC: Apologies for the slow posting)

IN THE BAR

(just checking that I actually sent those hideyhole PMs...)

JJ--please keep the girl with you, I'm hoping this won't be more than three days in the offing. I won't be staying here.

"Huh? Me? But... what? I don't have anything to... shit, you're going to do this whatever, aren't you? Make sure you come back sometime tommorow okay, because... dammit, yeah, i'll keep her over tonight, but I don't have much so make sure you come back at least once everyday while this on, right?"

"Get your meds, Weasel, and then we'll be off."

JJ produces a small back, with a couple of dirty yellow pills inside. "Its all i've got left, what can I say. 5 scrip each for the amphets. The other stuff i've got is reserved for other people, sorry".

She then picks up the shotgun and gives it to Cressin. "Be careful alright..."

=============

ON THE STREET

More people on the street now, more neon light, but also more subdued than you'd expect at this time of night. People still aren't sure if the police are returning.

KEBAB STAND

"Hey, what's this bounty?" she asked the vendor. "I could always a use a little extra scrip." she says, offering payment for the meal as she did so.

"You heard that explosion last night? Turns out that was one of King Cobra's own hovers - someone whacked a bunch of smugglers and a few local boys - some of Sancho's troops - but anyway, it seems that what happened is that Sancho's right hand Rudi made a mistake and gave away the time of the meet to some disloyal shit who then sold the meet - there are a bunch of ligs in zone trying to figure out who paid, and they want to find this guy... some local punk, meant to be kind of scrawny, goes by the name of Rat or Weasel or summing' like that. Ligs are offering alot of scrip for whoever brings him in alive..."

"Leastways, thats what I heard..."

THE BAR

JJ pipes in quietly... "Okay, fine, looks like maybe you can come up with some kind of arrangement... where the fuck did Jesse go? Look, Cressin, he probably won't mind putting you and the kid up for the night, but you Mister Weasel are a 10000 scrip security risk... Half the zone is gunning for you, and you know, I doubt the like... customers would appreciate a gunfight in here, y'know? Seriously mate, you gotta find somewhere else to lay low..."

THE BAR

Hmnmm...what does Cressin know about the Sharks? And does the name Sancho ring a bell for him?

The Sharks are a gang, terriotory mostly on the Jinhua side of the zone, but with turf closer to the waterline than either the Hole or your old apartment block. One of the more 'traditional' gangs in the zone they've adopted a uniform of darker clothing, heavy leather and 'Sharkfin' mohicans...

Sancho owns a very seedy club further down the strip, that the car was parked outside of earlier, basically a strip joint of pretty general stereotypical tackiness. He considers himself to be 'on the way up' through the ranks of the Zone's criminal fraternity, and in this regard he is probably right. He isn't seen around so much, when Cressin's services have been used by the club (mostly small items in closed envelopes, on a semi regular basis) it has almost always been his majordomo Rudi who has handled it, and the impression is that this guy does most of the actual legwork.

Essentially however, he is one of the usual Floodzone middlemen. They take what the smugglers bring ashore and sell it at the highest profit they feel they can get away with, which isn't very much. The sharks engage in some of this as well, although normally act as hired guards - more in case the inner city buyers try something rather than other zone gangs - if the smugglers ever decided to go somewhere else the economy of the entire zone would die, so while they all compete to be there when the goods come ashore, they don't normally actively interfere with the landings. Bad business to piss off your only supplier, essentially.

" - Fuck, JJ. You deal in drugs? I need somethin' for tonight. Somethin' good, to allow me forget this fuckin' day."

"You aren't subtle, are you... uhh, i've got a couple of over the wall Amphets lying around, plus a little more assorted shit, thats about it."

  " - I had no bad blood with Sancho... No much relationship to speak about... As for Sharks... hey, ask Smiley, her was the one firin'. fter all, they were sneakin' to the hover, carryin' a lots of guns. This wasn' an one-sided shotout..."

JJ looks around again. "Some Shark musta got paid alot of scrip to do that - they may be scum but that still doesn't sound right..."

KEBAB STAND

The finest in 'Zone food arrives across the counter, and is worth the short wait. These people have had alot of practice at this, alot of pride involved...

"Alot of shooting past couple of hours... seems like someone must be trying to cash in on that bounty..." says the Kebab vendor, casually.

THE BAR

He faces Weasel again, shifting a little to get even more out of arm's reach. "In the meatime, Mr. Weasel, let's sit for a bit, just you and me, all quiet-like, and you can tell me your side of the story. Okay?"

"Yeah, quiet, quiet is good..." says JJ. "Maybe if we hear your side we can figure this out..."

She beckons to the girl, who by now has sat herself on a chair and is sitting wide eyed at the various arguing parties, noticing the tension but unaware of what its actually about. Seeing JJ silently asking her to come across the bar she pulls herself up over it and onto the otherside.

OUTSIDE BINGS

"An' you don't know where it came from, oke'?"

"Where what came from, sir?" Bing smiles.

Out on the street... Early evening, the strip is tentatively lighting up, unsure of how the evening will progress but seemingly determined to make a little cash out of it all the same... Over in Jinhua direction, you can see a few Police AVs hovering over the approximate location of the apartment block, paying much more attention to it than anything else. There don't appear to be any cops on the strip, and that has to be some kind of plus.

Great, now what I do, my home was just trashed....there's a wildman running around with a shotgun... ahh man..... and Rachet will start walking the streets..again.

I need a drink

A couple of options here.

Further down the strip is the old Subway Station, now known as the 'Hole'. Tends to be fairly quiet and not frequented by as many idiots as some other places.

Big Sancho's club in the other direction - where the lig car was parked when you came by, but seems to have gone by now. It claims to be the most exclusive, classy place on the strip, but in reality would be called tacky by anyone north of the wall. No telling what state it might be in now.

Scattered along the strip are a variety of smaller places - there are a couple of kebab places that proudly display 10 year old pre flood statements of hygiene from the cities public health commision... Most of them would also sell beer - some of it from over the wall... In addition, there are a couple of clubs (read 'big open indoor space', with massive sound system), sometimes full of idiots, sometimes just kids needing a release, always full of petty drug dealers and extremely loud. They won't open till later on.

The wind is blowing in the other direction so the omnipresent smell of the trash pile is gracing someone elses nose today.

STILL IN THE BAR

" - Easy now, sister... you tell me you've spoken to shitheads goin' to kill me, and then you want my gun? No fuckin' way!" - Now not the cash register is in danger (not that Weasel won't mind some extra cash, but, as one other street scoundrel aid long ago, "Fuck the money, life is what counts!"), but bartender herself... " - You've sold me, right?"

 

"Look, mate," Cress says, suddenly wincing at either the shot or perhaps his sudden use of old family colloquialisms, "give her the damn gun, the last thing any of us need is any more of that! And nobody's effin' sold you, so shut the hell up and have a damn drink!"

 

He shuffles just forward enough to keep himself between Weasel and Martha, and cover a bit of JJ too, if he can.

JJ seems completely happy to help Cress get between her and Weasel by moving herself.

"Did I say I had spoken to them? I said THEY. They could be anyone. The whole f**king 'Zone knows that 'they' want you, 'they' didn't exactly hide their intentions!"

"JJ--maybe you should let him know who 'they' might be, you know, the ones who were supposedly out to get Mr. Weasel here. Don't know a gun from my own arse when it comes to working one, so you're safe as anything with me."

If Weasel looks like a crazed tiger, JJ has eyes like a frightened rat right about now. She has been letting Cress and Weasel talk, not so much looking for an opening as a convienient exit. She begins talking, more to Cress than to Weasel - although those eyes are still firmly fixed on him.

"They are everyone man..., after what happened last night - you heard that explosion? That was a smuggler hover, one of King Cobra's own, and word is is that this guy, Mr Weasel here and his mate Smiley, got paid a pile of scrip to sell the meet to whoever did the job - so now the smugglers are after him, and the people who had family arrested last night when the police saw the explosion and decided to 'police' the zone - y'know, swooping on random people - they want revenge, and the Ligs who came into town and messed up Sancho's club this morning seem to be after him as well, an' they put the word out to the gangs... plus the fact that the entire zone starves if the smugglers decide to go somewhere else, so the local guys involved want to make a public example of anyone who betrays their trust... The only thing he's got going for him is that the ligs seem to want him alive, and will pay more for that..."

"And, y'know, if thats your plan, I can look after the girl for a bit..."

The Bar - CRESSIN and (later) WEASEL

The smile fades a little, but he manages to hang on only by the grace of someone knowing his talent for drumming. "I'm Cressin, though folks tend to call me Cress, saves time I suppose," he says, reaching his free hand over the bar. Her fingers are narrow, too young to be gnarled, but well on their way if she makes it to that age. "This," he answers, is...Martha," Cressin hazards, hoping he gets it right or her ears are still too damaged to pick out the innacuarcy. "She'll be sticking with me for a bit."

"Cressin? Long time since i've met anyone with that name... If he'd lived he'd probably be about the age you look now, come ta think of it, although everythings a little blurry today... side effects". She gives a weak smile at some hidden joke, then looks down and gives another one to 'Martha'. "Hey Martha, i'm JJ... She deaf or something?"

Cressin's heart sinks. "Look, this actually brings me to what I'm here about. Just a little while ago, something big happened in my old kip, you see. Guns, AVs, Grenades," he says, pointing to his ears and the girl's.

"Oh, fuck. You know what I said about not being able to give something out on the house today? Forget that..." Her expression has gone beyond shocked sympathy, this is something deeper. "And I suppose it had nothing to do with you..."

She pours out two shots of something clear and alcoholic, takes one herself and slides the other across the bar to Cress.

"Had a friend die like that... police raid, 'bout 4 years ago. She was everything... Janie and D, sorta like Thelma and Louise except we were 14 years old, didn't have a car, never met Brad Pitt back before he got fat, an' only one of us got killed by police... everything always seemed to happen to us at the same time and we could talk about anything you know? We just used to spend all day sitting on the roof of this old southside block - hardly ever in her apartment, she had parents and this bratty little brother - 12 year old boys, god... I suppose you know more about being one than I do (weak laugh)... but anyway, we would just sit on this balcony all day and talk forever, then one day we had this stupid falling out, two days later she was gone, just like that, the whole familly just collateral damage...

... I was a better person when she was around..."

She looks into the back room behind the bar. "Look, i'll go find out about this. You know that the back room is just a big maintinence store room with a water cystern linked into it. Beyond that its practically empty except for two old mattresses and some blankets. Not somewhere you would want to live long term, but it could do the job. I'll have a look for Jesse, I should be able to talk him into it or at least let you talk him into it... sorry, my eyesight is a little fucked right now, this stupid medication is having side effects..."

She looks around, further into the bar.

"Nope, I can see his friend, but not him, he must have gone out back" - gesturing at the steps that used to lead to the platforms. "Just wait a sec till he gets back". At the same time she takes out half a bar of kibble from somewhere under the counter. "Something for Martha... you must've had a horrible day..."

"You know, weird coincidence, her brother was called Cressin as well... She was Dierdre... Dierdre Parthenai"... WEASEL reaches the bar.

" - Hey, JJ! Good to see ya! Flush me one, eh? Need somethin' for me nerves... By the way, have you some string? I mean, a cord? I got this nice toy, but I'm tired of carryin' it in hands..."

JJ, in the midst of her own reflections, looks genuinely startled. Then she takes a better look at Weasel, and is genuinely startled again.

"Weasel?... Weasel, is that you? Aren't you meant to be dead or something? They were going to kill you... man, no offence but you look like shit..." Then she sees the shotgun.

Weasel might be willing to charge crazily at a shotgun toting SWAT team with a knife, but he isn't a total idiot. When JJ says "Hey, Mr James has this fairly strict policy about having large weapons within a few metres of the cash register... umm... maybe you could pass it over the bar and then I could try and find that string..." it is obvious to Weasel that she seems far more scared than she should when talking to someone she has spoken too on at least fairly good terms a fair few times before.

GM: who's at the hole at the moment?

Jesse isn't anywhere to be seen. His old 'techie' friend is sitting at the back of the bar, and another old scavenger type is propping up the bar at the other end from JJ and... strangely enough the kid from the apartment block and a small girl. There is some rastafarian guy sitting at one of the tables, and a few other guys sitting at another earnestly talking, strip security types. It isn't really late enough in the evening for a younger crowd to be in here. Almost all of them seem to turn around and start looking at Weasel when he enters.

WEASEL

OOC: GM< what are chances of getting back to the place where Weasel and Jake spent last night? Without getting noticed, and even more without getting shot? Or maybe Weasel knows a haven somewhere closer?

That place is on the other side of town (at the opposite end of town to both Shark and Mescie 'hoods' - theres a hateful word...), the quickest way to get there being simply to walk to the other end of the strip, and then turn down one of the longer throughfaires. The strip is so full of security guards and vested interests that you probably wouldn't get shot, although you might well get noticed. There is also the usual assortment of back alleys and escape routes to pass through, if you took them you are less likely to get noticed, but perhaps more likely to get shot... randomly, by some mugger... although the shotgun might act as a good deterrent.

IC: Weasel heads to The Hole. Apart from liquor, they may have some shotgun shells they may like to sell him (if no, then maybe there's a weapons dealer somewhere nearby? Weasel isn't sure about how many rounds have left... ecxept they are few).

A dedicated weapons dealer might be difficult to find, but the junk shops would probably be worth a look. Beyond the strip, closer to the wall, there are an assortment of junkshops and various technical shops that might be worth a look.

As he steps out onto the strip he sees several people leaving Sancho's, all dressed in suits ( ! ), obvious but not overblown (stylish?) cyberware, mirrorshades... One of them is carrying a very large assault rifle... They step into the car without seeing you, and it begins to move off away from you.

================================================

CRESSIN

"Idiot, idiot girl? Which one are we talking? I know the bar, but..." Cressin searches his memory for some connection about this girl. He almost has it...

"Oh... damnation... what was her name? Her mother called her Jane, but that was a long time ago... she calls herself something different... About your age, maybe a year older... dreadlocks, if we were both north of the wall I would make a not altogether unwarranted assumption that she was anorexic... One of those people who is very good at getting herself into too situations, but not so intelligent when it comes to extricating herself."

"I don't know much about her at all, save she was a neighbor, and that's about all. At least I think she was a neighbor, maybe she lived a building or so down. ...So you know nothing about the car. Ah, well. ...If there's not much else you can do--aside from clean out what's collected in her ears, of course--I'll take her with me to...damn, even I can't remember the name of that place. I'll see if I can snag that back room."

"Most people seem to call it the hole... blunt simplicity is regarded as an artform around here... Well, wherever you go, try and find somewhere clean... I know how difficult that can be, but an infection could create all sorts of complications. I should also make you aware that this injury could potentially be very painful. What you should also do is come back here sometime tommorow, just to have a look..."

Cressin frowns a bit, but whether it's with distate or dismay is unclear. "I'll just sing for my supper, maybe."

"Given that this was little more than a diagnosis, consider it a thank you for past services rendered, and for politeness over a long period of time. It is a pleasure compared to what I usually get in here. 'Fooking Mescies blew Jim's arm off, give him some metal so we can fook them back over'. Pah. Meanwhile, if you don't mind, I have some tinkering to get back too..."

He wanders into the backroom, talking to himself and closing the door behind him. The monkey begins staring in a disconcerting manner.

-----------------------

Outside the pseudo-clinic, the strip is returning to normal. In the intervening time whoever was driving that car has returned to it, because as he steps outside it begins to move off in the other direction, loudly blowing its horn in the direction of various people who happen to be in front of it.

In the distance, off to the east and the wall, someone on top of a building in Jinhua lets off a few bright firecrackers. It is entering early evening, but too early for the Hole to be really busy when Cressin enters, just a few of the older residents getting their drink in before it gets more crowded. The girl follows in hand, a little unsurely.

The owner, an older bloke called Jesse, is sitting in a corner talking with a patron. The bar is being tended by a teenager, 18 perhaps, female and kinda attractive except that she has this sallow, almost translucent white skin, She is wearing dirty short jeans cut off just above the knee, and an old white t-short, fishnet vest over the top. She has dirty dreadlocks (they don't require much work...), salt stained and originally blonde... probably... She looks like she hasn't slept in days, judging by completely dilated blue pupils and the dirty rings around her eyes. Her expression is etched with a mild, jaded boredom as she serves a customer.

Cress has actually seen her before, but he can't entirely remember where... certainly never behind the bar. He also remembers her being somewhat younger, as if he'd seen her when she was 10 or something. It has to be said that Cressin's memory since it happened 4 years ago is somewhat hazy, but any memory he has of this person predates that event by a couple of years.

She recognises Cressin though, when he gets as far as the bar. "Hey, its the drummer man... never did get told your real name...what can I get you? I'm sorta tempted to give it on the house, but i've got old eagle eyes staring over me... Waita sec, whos this?"

The girl tugs on his hand, and says something in a cracked, unmodulated voice. "Cressin? Do you have something to eat?"

=================================================

RACHET AND DIEGO

ooc: after carrying this thing for as long as I did, is it worth more than 15?

Thats whats being offered. The casing really is pretty fecked, and presumably most of the internal electrics and hardware - you didn't have a chance to check on the run. The fibreoptics and camera still seem intact though, so if you wanted there is haggling potential.

The sound of a car moving on the strip... away from you, but still pretty unusual... early evening setting in...

(which reminds me I madea few ideas about the next voivodship... and I should post them asap...Comp, where you are, lad, when it's the time to kick my lazy bottom part another step forward, huh? wink.gif)

hehe... yeah, I have been stupidly busy over the last few months...

Although, that said the time seems to have arrived for me to resume lazy bottom kicking duties...

So, consider yourself kicked... although that implies that I have to get off my own backside and add something as well... Soon, hopefully...

DIEGO AND RACHET:

The old woman looks up, says something in an far Asian language, and a few seconds Bing comes out. The man is lanky and dressed in overalls, mild hint of epicantic folds and dark black hair.

He takes a look at the drone quickly, paying more attention to it than you...

"Looks like a Fox DV-8" - he says, before looking up - "About 5 years old, designed for the government contract but the Republic weren't buying, lost alot of money on it, now its strictly corp or civillian sal..." - He sees the look being given to him.

"Well... it looks like its taken a beating, shotgun or something... casing is worthless, drive motor has gone, the remote control as well, but the optics look like they might still be functioning, although it will need a new lens... but still... tell you what, I am feeling generous - I give you 15 scrip for this. I mean, like your friend says, this looks recent, it could be bugged or something..."

CRESSIN:

"Got any ideas about a new place to crash? My old place is tattered pasteboard now," he shrugs, keeping as near to the girl as necessary to get her to understand that, despite appearances, whatever's done here will actually <i>help</i>. "--Oh, and about that black car--how long's it been out there?"

"Black car?. You will have to excuse me, I find what is in here more interesting than what is out there... I haven't looked..."

The girl is very reluctant to get up onto the chair for obvious reasons, and in the end Cress has to gently coax her up onto it, where she lies down. The Rippaman shines a light into her left ear first, having seemingly ignored the other questions.

"Alot of mess in there..." he comes in closer and takes a sniff "You smell that pus? There is alot of blood in here but it isn't serious. What we have hear is a perforated eardrum - consistant with a grenade or flashbang blast like you described, I suppose. That in itself isn't a problem - it will heal naturally in a week or two if we clean this out - the problem is keeping it from infection... yes yes, other ear too... exactly the same..."

He sets about cleaning the ear. "A place? I don't know... I think that bar down the road, that old subway station has a backroom or something - I think that idiot, idiot girl told me she kips there sometimes, when she isn't over in the pile... its a wonder she didn't get herself shot..." He seems to be talking to himself.

He snaps back into focus. "It is really important that you keep the ears clean - you have to keep this clean - keep it away from the water... any water in this part of town... there will be alot of pain for awhile, but it should clear up. Do you know if she has a history of previous infections, that could complicate this... if this was the inner city I might be about to prescibe antibiotics, but I don't have much now, and besides they aren't always effective these days...

CRESSIN

The Rippaman inhabits a building just a few doors down from the old Subway station. In the evening it is closed up behind a large metal door, but now there is little more than a plastic sheet over the door... This might seem a little stupid in the zone, when there is so much equipment inside, but the scrawled 'BEWARE OF THE DOG' sign next to it scares off most heavily armed gangers who might want to rob the place.

Passing through the door Cressin enters into a landing, with space to leave the bike, and a large box with 'DEPOSIT WEAPONS HERE'. There is a rotten carpet, a wooden and glass door leading into the main 'sugery', a small camera attachment hanging from a ceiling composed of pipes weird electronics, and a very large, very intimidating DogThing.

It is about the size of a well built adult Alsatian, and might have been one once, except virtually every organ has been replaced, eyes, legs, razorsharp teeth... the skin seems to have been pulled back to reveal the 'weave beneath it. Steam rises from cerebean nostrils, and electronic chameleon eyes swivel to face the two fugitives in a distinctly disconcerting manner, but it makes no move except to snort.

Cressin has met it before, the girl hasn't, but manages to stifle a scream. By now she has deposited herself from the bike, and pushes herself behind her new protector. She is sniffly and feels very fragile, but is at least responding to basic non-verbal instructions, and seems really reluctant to be anywhere that isn't within about 30 cm of Cress.

The dog is trained (or programmed?) to stay where it is and make no move unless someone entering through the door tries to take a weapon into the surgery itself or is obviously threatening. It makes no move when Cress walks through the door into the main surgery, under a very discreet metal detector. It is also a very nice deterrent to anyone who might want to steal the bike.

The surgery is decorated in what a television designer would call 'mad scientist chic'. A large dentists chair is situated in the centre, surrounded by an assortment of mechanical arms, liquid sacs, magnifying devices, lights and other assorted medical bric a brac, all on wheels for easy movement. Around the room are all sorts of older model computers, cybernetic parts, cupboards full of dubious drugs, jars containing even more dubious biological objects, baroque robotics and drones rolling down tracks laid out around the walls. At the back lies an ancient medical certificate, worn and rotted with age and water, but despite the mess, the rest of the surgery is actually very clean. The ceiling is festooned with pipes and wires, from which a monek is currently hanging by its tail, equally festooned with cybernetic parts. Each of its limbs seems to have come from a different monkey.

The Rippaman himself, a jovial old man dressed in faded medical scrubs and an old overcoat and with something of the manner of a wizard about him, is working in a backroom behind. He has long white hair which he ties behind him when working. Hearing the door he comes out into the room, sees Cressin.

"Did I order anything? No...?"

...sees the girl...

"Is this a patient?"

WEASEL, DIEGO, RACHET

The backstreets are wet, tight and populated by rats and the occasional homeless citizen. None of which particulary matters when you are being pursued down them by a bunch of armed gang members. Except that the situation seems to be more confused. The sounds coming from the AV seem to indicate a lowering of altitude, but there is no way it could pursue you down here. It has definatley thrown the gang members off though, and most of the footsteps are further away now.

After a few minutes the group reaches the strip, with suprisingly little trouble. In the far background the AV is still whining, and gunfire can be heard. Most of the people are going around with their heads down, hoping whatever is going on doesn't spread. A few hundred metres down the street, outside Sancho's is a large black sedan, something that seems completely out of place here. There is a small group of children around it, but they seem to be distracted by something in this direction - the shooting, the group, something. In the other direction is the old subway station - 'the Hole' these days, and other assorted blocks, a few junk shops, what passes for a surgery in this place, and a few people carefully sheltering under roof awnings and in doorways, nervously more of the sirens than the gunfire.

CRESSIN

The rough treatment received over the last couple of minutes has definately had an affect on the girl, because she starts screaming when the psychopath grabs the pair and doesn't stop until their eyes make contact. Her eyes cloud over, but it still isn't clear if she can actually hear anything that Cressin said - she gets on his back, but that may be the result of gestures rather than anything said.

And then he is on the bike and heading into the alleys of the old town, between buildings barely a metre or two apart. In places he has to dodge (or rather visa versa) people coming the otherway, including a couple of gang members who ignore him (or rather curse loudly as he almost knocks them down, but they don't draw firearms or anything...) as they run in the general direction of the firefight.

It takes several tight turns but in a few minutes of passing through tight passages, past derelicts and junk and other assorted slum paraphenalia and he is heading towards the doc. He has actually gone several blocks past it before he turns up onto the strip proper - safety and easier riding if for no other reason.

The strip is somewhere which comes alive in the early evening - some hours away, and the usual crowd aren't here. There are however junk merchants and the like pedalling along the streets, weirdly festooned people passing into doors along the street, 'security guards' doing their best to look intimidating and professional, all of them sending the occasional nervous glance in the direction of the gunfire happening several blocks away. A hundred metres further down the strip, in the opposite direction to the one you want to be in, sits a completely incongrous black sedan, surrounded by street kids. About the time he sees it he hears a *crack* and a blue spark flashes as one of them reaches out and touches it, followed by a shriek of suprise/pain and general laughter.

The rippaman is somewhere in the other direction, in the old surgery next to the old subway station opposite an old hotel (the whole strip looks old, however much neon they bolt onto it...). Not too far, a minute or two without having to swerve between bollards or through alleys...

WEASEL

(OOC: No carry belt, sorry)

The teenager with long hair doesn't wait or give thanks and is heading in the general direction of away as quickly as he can, disappearing into the alleys. This isn't entirely Weasel's part of the zone - he doesn't know it as well as one of the residents might - but even so, into the alleys... away... the current one is taking you parrallel with the strip, and it will require a turn north at some point... similar north/south options to the last run through the back streets, with Jack last night... Taking the first corner and then just running north will take you closer to Jesse's Hole (neat symmetry there...). One thing Weasel does know is that the backstreets might be full of Mescies...

Into the alley, a few metres down...

More firing behind him and a police loudspeaker howling in the background... footsteps, the two girls appearing around the corner, pounding footsteps behind them...

DIEGO AND RACHET

As they run for the alley, ganger begin to boil out from the building opposite, behind the first two, carrying a variety of machetes and handguns, several shots bounding off walls behind them... As they get into the alley, for now following the guy with the shotgun, options begin to open up - lose the gangers in the mess, possibly turning south through one of the gaps between buildings further south and heading for the flooded district, or turning north onto the strip, where there are sure to be large numbers of people, buildings within which to disappear...

Above the police AV has reappeared around the building, beaming the searchlight on full intensity onto the 'firefight' happening below.

DESIST IMMEADIATLEY! DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE UNTIL OFFICERS ARRIVE! YOU ARE ALL UNDER ARREST!

I've never really been able to fit Israel into any setting i've come up with (these days I don't like to use the canon).

Under the basics principles of my current setting there is no real way way for the United States to continue supporting the state:

Under the 1st version of this when US's ability to provide support suddenly got stripped away (it wasn't anything anyone planned) the surrounding Arabic nations took advantage and launched an overwhelming attack, which was repulsed with nuclear weapons against surrounding capitals. Since then the state retreated in on itself to become a series of fortified enclaves hugging the coast...

But since then I decided that frankly the Middle East was to much of an interesting place to nuke (the canon took the easy way out, one thinks) and started thinging alot more about the political situation there, without really considering Israel.

The problem is, that under the revised version (while having been through an extremely violent period some years before) some of the Arabic states are becoming quite powerful militarily, while at the same time supplying Israel with weapons or any support at all would seem to be contrary to 2030s European foreign policy in the region (and the Americans have far, far bigger problems than policing someone elses back yard by 2035, especially with oil less of a concern). I get the impression that if the Syrians or Egyptians ever decided to roll over Israel with all this weaponary the Euros have given them in exchange for keeping the fundamentalists down, the cynical politicians of the world would just politely ask them to hurry up and get it over with before it begins to affect world trade...

On the one hand the setting provides a bunch of good reasons why the AL wouldn't attack Israel without warning - like most of the other reformed economic leagues they have bigger concerns. However, certainly they would also want a resolution to the Palestinian problem - and when there is no foreign power supporting a small state and your own militaries are becoming increasingly advanced (the two great alliances of this world are using the Middle East as their testing ground in this new cold war much as they did in the last one), and your people are demanding some sort of resolution in your favour, whats to stop the general launching their attack?

What i'm thinking of now is having a war break out after American support disappears but before the Re-formed Arab league becomes powerful or even fully exists, perhaps just a few individual countries. Their troops would roll over the Gaza strip on several fronts and eventually be halted by a counter attack. Knowing they probably can't win but still in a very powerful position the surrounding nations negotiate a peace that creates an independant Palestine and reduces Israeli land quite substantially. Without support the Israelis accept and becomes effectively a series of fortified enclaves hugging the coast, this time without radiation shields... The AL hasn't attack again, because while the Palestinians would want it all, the other powers are scared of fighting a version of the Intifada in reverse when they are already facing guerilla warfare on almost every border... (full scale genocide after an occupation would mean an end to EU funding and support...)

I was thinking about what it might be like in those cities (before and after the war) and I was imagine somewhere outwardly clean and civillised, but where everyone carries an tracking system strapped somewhere, where there are covert metal detectors on every street and where the military had effectively taken total control of virtually all aspects of life - how much do a people sacrifice to guarentee their independance?

Above, the AV is slowly circling the building, moving away from this street. Below, a motley group of floodzoners evacuate as fast as possible...

Weasel and Cressin are moving down the street in the general direction of the metro entrance, with Diego and Rachet still just outside the building. While they are in the midst of their conversation they are suddenly interrupted by shouts from the gangers in the door way...

"oh shit man, that was the fucking Weasel... YOU LIG F***ING TRAITOR!!!" Both gangers are suddenly on their feet and drawing pistols, one of them moving to use the doorway as cover if Weasel should return fire... the other one seems to reveal a pistol abominably quickly and sends a very fast snap shot over Diego's head... Behind the door she hears movement.

Down the street the two black figures run for cover at either side of the street upon hearing the sound of the shot, still at least 60 metres away.

WEASEL

As he moves towards the metro station he hears the shouts, apparently directed at him. A brief glance behind him reveals that the two gangers are drawing weapons, one moving into cover of the doorway... Weasel is currently 15 metres away and moving further towards the cover of the Metro ventilation stack, basically a concrete structure that looks like some oversided well without the water carrier... to enter it he will have to physically climp up about a metre, it won't be anything he can't do but it will take time...

DIEGO AND RACHET

Both stepping outside of the door, arguing... and then the shouts, movement in the opposite doorway - they are shouting at the shotgun toting psychopath, but a few seconds later the first rapid shot passes over Diego's head... No explanation... the next shots won't be so rushed, but both gangers are exposed.

CRESSIN

The quickest route in the direction of the R-Man unfortuantly seems to be the same direction that the shotgunner is taking, but it rapidly becomes clear he is heading for the metro ventilation shaft - not really an option for the bicycle, Cress doubts it will fit down the hole (although it might... the hole is about a metre and a half in diametre from what he can see). And going down with the girl is going to be even more difficult...

Essentially Cressin has two routes away, directly down this street at speed will get him onto the Strip very quickly, but that AV is still above, somewhere... Then there are the mess of back streets - it will be slower, but the sheeting, powerlines and the other assorted mess between the roofs would block any aerial pursui...

Shouting, and another shot behind him, nearer the building.

(GM: what are possible escape routes... ones including the ability to avoid aerial pursuit? IIRC it's one of the things Weasel used to check... Maybe some technical tunnels, severs or aything similar? Weasel is quite adept with TVC escape-topography... If there's nothing like these, is there any cover worth running for with the AV over our heads?)

The floodzone has a sewer network, sort of... how much do you like swimming, holding your breath or having your stomach pumped? Bits of it are dry (floodzoners do occasionally block flooded sewers to protect the foundations of buildings, but its rare).

Most of the buildings on this street are constructed in the same manner as the one you are in the process of fleeing, with gaps between them. In many cases sheets, wire, clotheslines and in some cases cardboard shelters cover those gaps. This entire region immeadiatley to the south of the strip is a big residential mess, for lack of a better phrase.

STREET LEVEL:

WEASEL:

Weasel steps out into the street, shotgun in hand. What people there were have scattered, but there is movement to the south, civillians running away mostly, although a couple of black jacketed figures coming in your direction (at least 100 metres away). In the porch opposite he sees a couple of Mescalero gangers covering themselves just inside the entrance watching upwards. Further down the street Weasel sees something he has noticed before, what could be an (unintentionally) open ventilation stack for the old subway. That reminds him that he is pretty close to the end of the strip, with the Hole perhaps a maximum of 500 metres away (for references purposes if nothing else). The presence of the Mescalero gangers reminds Weasel that this entire street is no mans land, with Shark territory to the south, away from the Strip... The warren of alleys around the tower blocks can be dangerous for anyone, and the borders continually shift from day to day... Weasel can't be sure if he still neutral, or whether it would matter.

Above he can see the AV hanging in the air, probing a searchlight into what was once Jack's apartment...

It starts to rain.

DIEGO

Out onto the street, following the shotgun toting psychopath. Two Mescalero gangers in the entrance of the building opposite, but no real movement for 100 metres in either direction. An AV above... and it starts to rain. Movement to the south, mostly appearing to be people running away, a couple of darker figures coming in this direction - this territory is no-mans land between the generally civil Mescalero clan and the downright psychopathic Sharks - whoever it is probably 100 metres away at least, just wanting to check out what the hell is going on here... Diego knows she isn't far from the Strip, although this entire region is a mess of old towers, homeless warrens and polluted pools.

Incidentally, there was a small but expensive looking drone lying broken and smokinh on the floor just inside the entrance, evidently hit by a shotgun judging by the scatter fractures in its shell.

CRESSIN

Once Cress gets out onto the street, he will have a choice. To the north is the Strip, that single line of bars, clubs, clinics and techie warrens, to the south is the waterline, the flood people and wet feet. All around here is a dirty conglomerate of mostly occupied buildings with narrow alleys between them, dangerous now that Cress is more weighed down than usual, although admittedly difficult to be followed through.

The battered remains of a small drone is lying directly inside the apartment, smoking. It stopped spinning as he entered the room...

Too many things to think about. How will he get the girl fixed? He knows people, that's not a problem, but payment was another issue. And really, he knows people who know people. One step removed from a remedy. He doesn't mind the idea of ferrying for a chopdoc--on the contrary, that'd be a great gig, getting paid in a yearly check-up and a little something for the gutspills that invariably come when the food is just that side of bad, but is all there is to eat.

Cress has a fairly informal arrangement with the RippaMan, a self styled 'outlaw doctor' who has his clinic immeadiately next to the old subway station cum bar. The usual deal, irregular 'prescription' runs down the strip, swapping information and the occasional med when needed. The man's medical CV might be doubted by an Inner City doctor but he serves the job, at least on this side of the strip. He would probably be the most obvious person with regards to the girl, although there are other choices further down the strip, most notably the centrally located charity station.

RACHET

Out onto the street, the woman is making a fast pace and Rachet is struggling to keep up - and, to make things worse, it starts to rain. There appears to be a police AV hovering immeadiately above, scanning the apartments with its searchlight. Before she gets out, she does notice the battered remains of a drone lying just inside the entrance.

The quiet is shattered by a loud speaker blast from somewhere immeadiately above the upper floor...

THIS IS THE CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT. AN EMERGENCY UNIT IS EN ROUTE, AND WILL BE HERE IN E-T-A 3 MINUTES. REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE, DISARM ANY WEAPONARY AND AWAIT ASSISTANCE. MEDICAL AID WILL BE AVAILABLE AS NECESSARY.

DIEGO:

Diego makes good pace down the stairs, past several corpses. Before long she is on the 3rd floor, hearing the occasional sounds made by Cressin as he moves his bike down the stairs just ahead. She hears the loudspeaker blast, but only just, just a few seconds after hearing the report of a shotgun from below.

RACHET:

Thankfully, her room wasn't hit by one of the warheads and her kit survived... of course, if it had been hit she would have been in it... she ends up a floor behind Diego as they move down the stairs, and gets much better 'sound quality' than she did... hearing every word in perfect clarity.

OOC: Rachet doesn't hear the shotgun blast from below.

WEASEL

There isn't a round in the chamber, but a quick inspection of the pump solves that problem - the LED light turns into a 3 when he does so. He becomes vaguely aware of the boy with the bike, trying to carry everything at once, just behind him.

He can't see anyone from behind the door, and takes a shot at the first danger he sees, the little white drone hovering just inside the entrance way... pellets spatter across the doorframe, just a few hitting the little flying disc... but a few is enough to knock it out of the air... it spins crazily for a second and falls to the floor with a loud clatter. There are screams from the street, and above he can hear a loudspeaker.

He wasn't expecting the recoil, it almost knocked him of his feet...

Beyond the main doors to the apartment you can't see anyone in the street, although from the back of the foyer, your view isn't great.

CRESSIN

Cressin reaches the ground floor about the time the stringy man is fiddling with the shotgun, and watches him enter the foyer in dramatic fashion, taking a shot at some unseen target... there is a crazy whining noise followed by a clatter of plastic and metal hitting the tiled floor, and the stringy man doesn't immeadiately fire again...

There isn't another way out without entering the foyer...

OOC: Sorry this took so long... I thought I'd already posted, something must have stopped me last time and the reply didn't go up... Now have to rewrite the whole damn thing...

WEASEL

The shotgun is a pump action model. In order to pick it up Weasel has to pull an interface plug out of the stock. On the side is a big 4, shining from a simple LED screen. There doesn't appear to be any loose ammunition, if he took the time to look.

Proceeding down the stairs, he passes several corpses, mostly of what appear to be unarmed residents. Everyone else in the building seems to be hunkered down behind barricaded doors...

The stairway arrives to the left of the foyer. While he can't see much of it from around the door, he knows the basic layout. Essentially it is a large open space, with doors for the lift and stairway placed on a small corridor that leads from the left of the foyer, seperated by a thin (shattered) glass door. The foyer itself is a large open space, with a storage and laundry rooms positioned behind doors to the right. In the centre is a small box for the doorman/private security guard, which Lazio tended to occupy in the day out of force of habit. The front doors lead open out directly onto steps that lead a half a meter down to street level. Through the glass door, he can't see any movement in the foyer, nor hear it...

CRESSIN

The stringy man picks up the shotgun and continues down the stairs... by the time Cress manages to negotiate the corpse with his bike, Weasel is thankfully at least a floor down (or at least appears to be...)...

Down the stairs, towards the ground floor, it strikes Cress that he doesn't actually know where the girl lives, or where her parents might be... She is evidently in alot of pain, and he can't tell how much damage has been done, or how one might solve that problem...

DIEGO AND RACHET

Rachet's head is getting clearer now - her hearing is back entirely, and her balance is returning. She has a clear view of Diego taking just a step towards the stairwell.

Above both of them become aware of another AV, higher pitched engines than before, and sound of sirens, coming closer.

DIEGO:

Diego manages to roughly pull Rachet up and onto her feet, although whether she will stay there is another matter... In the din of the commotion she misses a large amount of speech from the communicator, just getting snatches... survivors boarding the AV, an order to run for Calexia... and then hears Gamma Flight report that someone is tapping into the frequency, followed by silence.

Above, you hear the whine of an AV gain altitude and make a turn in the air, away from here.

RACHET

Despite her resistance, Rachet is dragged up bodily by the Floodzoner. Her hearing has returned to normal now, and she can hear the tell tale signs of an AV retreating...

CRESSIN

Down the stairs at full speed, trying to carry as much as possible... down the first flight, past the floor that the two trasher types fell into, down the next flight and past the corpse of a gang member, two or three rounds in his chest and a shotgun by his side. He gets in the way of the bike.

The girl squirms, either in pain, or to escape his grasp.

It is becoming more evident that the former is true.

WEASEL

Following the long haired boy down first one flight of stairs, you pass the floor you just came up out of (The sarcastic chick is involved in trying to pull up someone else in the floor, so you overtake her). Another floor down, another corpse... Above, the AV seems to be retreating - it is telling of how much damage has been done that you can hear it from here...

I would love to run a Transhuman Space game, but right now I can't think of a story that does the setting justice - which is stupid because there are so many campaign hooks in there... - heh, it might be fun just to run a trading post in the belt as an open game... espionage, dodgy trading, quasi-religious fanatics, rogue nanites and weird newsfeeds...

Judging by the previous posts on this thread, that probably wasn't the best thing to say...

As far as I know, games become mortified when someone pms CJ and tells him that the game is over. If there's no pm, then it doesn't get mortified...

I've been telling myself that for months now...

This is my 1000th post...

On the 1st anniversary of me being here, which is nice and symettrical, I suppose...

RACHET:

(OOC: Since you didn't say anything against it, i'm going to assume you let Diego pull you up...)

As you are roughly picked up, you see a second blast, this time in the drummer's apartment... the black wind bursting from the door, shards hurtling into the Diego's apartment opposite...

WEASEL:

His small disorientating world is becoming even more disorientating, as 'the chick' tries to rouse the other residents out of their apartments... One of them, a very pale teenager with shoulder length blonde hair emerges from 6c at some speed, carrying the girl you saw earlier and dragging a bike behind him...

And then the second missile goes off in 6C... a black wind explodes out of the apartment door, immeadiately behind the boy... your hearing has improved to the extent that you hear the sound, like a hail of pebbles hitting steel, a tornado...and then the sound of plaster collapsing, then silence...except for the whine of an AV, apparently gaining a few metres of altitude...

CRESSIN:

"OKAY PEOPLE, WE ARE OUT OF HERE!"

You don't need to be told, you were already moving... out the door, towards the stairwell, towards the psychotic trasher and a mess of other people...

Behind you your hearing has improved to the point that you hear the destruction of your apartment with what sounds like near perfect clarity... a death wind tearing through plaster and the impromtu barricade, anything not solid...flechettes hitting steel and shattering against it... a blast, like a fireball composed of wire rushes out of the door behind you, buffeting the back of the bike, which escaped just in time...

DIEGO:

The next few seconds prove to be among the most disorientating you might ever face - the earbud buzzing, almost getting stabbed as you push past, shouting, the drummer emerging from the apartment with a girl and a bike...

And behind him, the same dark typhoon obliterating 6C, as the AV systematically destroys the floor...

From the ear bud, at high volume:

GAMMA FLIGHT (as you are shouting, barely audible): targeting second apartment... sir, the Jinhua AV is increasing speed...

BETACOM: Patch me through... *click* this is ISS Agent Sandemann. We are conducting an anti smuggling operation, transmitting ident codes...

Voice (Police? Indian accent, through a respirator, it sounds like): Copy that, this is C and E Jinhua patrol AV F6. Please land immeadiatley and remain where you are. We are sending reinforcements by AV, eta 7 minutes. Stand by.

BETACOM: Thank you, but unnecessary. We will have completed out operation shortly. Stand down...

(The blast goes off in 6C)

POLICE: ... been advised to order you too land. Stay were you are and cease operations.

BETACOM: This is an ISS operation, we have the authority here. Stand down.

POLICE: Sorry sir, your codes do not seem to be valid. Land immeadiatley and wait for the strike team, ETA 7 minutes. Any deviation from those orders and I have been ordered to blow you out of the firmament.

*Click*

BETACOM: SHIT! Gamma Flight, scratch operation, immeadiate evac...how far away is he?

GAMMA FLIGHT: The AV3 is increasing speed... 1 minute, mutual weapons range in 30 seconds...

Outside, your hearing has improved enough to hear the AV rise in altitude and move towards the roof...

OOC: Apologies Wraith, since Rachet isn't really capable of doing anything right now and you are laid up for a few days, i'm going to push this a round... hope the operation went well...

IC:

DIEGO:

From the earbud mike:

Voice 1 (Alpha 2?): Heading into stairwell...

Voice 2 (Betacom?): Copy that... Gamma Flight, this is Betacom, change of plan... vulcanise the target apartment...

Voice 3 (Gamma Flight?): Copy that... give me a few sec... uhh, betacom, we may have a problem here, C&E flight isn't accepting the codes...

Betacom: Must be a delay - Calexia has been informed of the operation, tell them to call whoevers in charge up there.

Gamma Flight: I did. It isn't the Calexia department, its Jinhua, and the greyback f**ka is on a direct intercept course. He actually ordered me to land. ETA here in 2 minutes, if he keeps it up?

Betacom: We were told their pass wasn't meant to be for another hour. They shouldn't be here, unless someone has seriously...

Alpha2: Gamma Flight, i'm in the safety zone.

Gamma Flight: Copy that. Umm, Com, we are in position, you want me to go ahead?

Betacom: Yeah, one sideways pass, each apartment, flechette rounds, then rapid evac...

Gamma Flight: Copy that, taking 6E now...

Their is the sound of wooden boards being broken... a sudden roar and flash... then a sound like a hurricane...

CRESSIN: With his hearing beginning to clear out - its a sound more akin to the ringing you might get after a very loud concert - he hears the squaddie leave the floor... a few seconds...

And then for the second time in the last couple of minutes, an explosion...

Except this is different. You hear the sound of something smashing through the covered windows in 6E... Then an incredible *whooshing* sound, like a tornado had broken out in the neighbouring apartment... there are the sounds of objects shattering, thousands of small cracks appear in the apartments adjoining wall...

Then all is silent (comparitively) again, for just a microsecond, before the adjoining wall collapses. You see into 6E, a scene of total, utter destruction... furniture has been torn to shreds, plaster is falling from the ceiling... the cable holding the lamp in the air has been cut in several places... One of the internal walls is still standing, between you and the door, and if anyone was still in the apartment you hope they might be behind it and still alive... although it looks a little unlikely...

The entire floor of the apartment is covered in miniscule razor sharp shards, like tiny obsidian blades just a few centimetres across... the source of the destruction, they seem to shatter when hitting solid surfaces, judging by the way some of them seem to have crumbled into tiny black-sand like shards... outside, you can hear the AV moving sideways... further down the block, perhaps lining up for a shot at one of the middle apartments...

The girl is whimpering now, but she hasn't moved...

WEASEL: Weasel reaches the upper floor stairwell in time to hear Alpha 2 leave for the roof. Poking through the door onto the floor, he sees the corridor empty except for a body and a hole in the floor...

And then a sound like a hurricane, just for a moment...a black wind blasting out of Jack's open door...

RACHET: With her hearing finally beginning to return to something usuable, the first thing she hears is what sounds like a 3 second long tornado going off at the end of the corridor... she has heard about the Flechette bombs the local paramilitary forces developed for room clearance, but never thought she would hear one in action...