Clean Up Aisle Four

Denver - Saturday, December 06, 2008, 11:04 AM

«Plot» Kassandra says, "This is a consent on run. Everyone need to agree to play. Additional rules:

1. Have fun

2. Not arguing rules. If you feel you have a good point, gimme a page number and we'll talk. Otherwise, roll with it. Fun trumps dice trumps rules.

3. Idle: if you need to go for an extended period, tell us. Idle in combat means you miss your turn and take only defensive actions.

4. Have fun"

«Plot» Bear says, "I consent to Kassandra's whim and the consequences of my actions."
«Plot» Dante says, "I consent"
«Plot» Ghost says, "I consent"
«Plot» Blindside says, " consents
«Plot» Tailpipe says, " cONENTEG" (We think this means consent)

The Loquacious Madman

This bar is decorated in a year-round festive theme. Gold, purple, and green are the dominating colours in this vibrant bar. A large section of the building is sectioned off into a multi-layer dancefloor of see-through 'glass', allowing visitors to see both above and below them as they revel.

Around the outskirts of the dancefloor, intimate booths with opaque curtains allow guests to revel in whatever manner may suit them, out of view of prying eyes. Waitstaff in jester's outfits patrol the club, taking drinks to and from the booths or even to the dance floor, while assortments of music boom away: New Jazz, Celtic Rock, Creole Blues, Technofunk, and more.

The atmosphere is revelry and debauchery, a twenty-four seven party.

The SetUp: You are contacted by the source of your choice, indicating that there is work to be had. They instruct you to meet your Johnson for this op, Silk, at a bar on the south end of the CAS sector called the Loquacious Madman

«OOC» Ghost says, "I want to go to the meet in disguise"
«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) rolls Disguise for "+4 polymimetic mask":
1 2 2 4 5

Dante arrives at the appropriate time, kitted out in… not much. He wears a simple armored longcoat over slightly bulky clothing, carrying nothing but a skimask and a small leather case the size of a pencilbox, both of which get stuffed into his pocket as he climbs out of a fairly non-descript and humble sedan.

Ghost slips in an hour before the meet, he sports a distinctive scar on his jaw, and reddish hair. He orders a drink at the bar, and sips at it, watching the room. At the appointed hour he will leave his drink behind, quietly cross the room and settle in a seat at the table

Kassandra is seated at one of the booths, the curtain open for the moment. A large, festively adorned Hurricane is seated before her, as well as a small personal computer, larger than a secretary but not a full cyberdeck. The woman is currently watching the dancers, who, even at this hour, are tearing up the floor.

Bear stoops into the bar, tomahawks hidden behind his back instead of at his side: the big troll looks around, scraches himself, and begins searching the white man's bar for the woman named Silk. His coat, in case anyone tries to check, is full of knives.
Bear finds Silk and joins the table.

"Duncan, there is a call on line one for you. Xenon is calling."

"Oh, flippen arctic! Put him on the speakers!" Says Blindside to Gladius One.

"Heeeeeeeeeey. Chumpy. I got a line on a job for you. SHoulnd't be anything your little halfer ass can't handle, should be something, you know, with milk teeth. Gitcher ass over to the Locquacious Madman, south end of the CAS sector."

"Colorado springs?"

"Looks like. Getcher ass in gear."

And so, 54 minutes of traffic swerving fun later, Blindside pulls in to the parking lot.

Dante steps into the bar, eyes scanning the room for signs of security, glancing at all the right places… he's been in a few places like this in his time. He tosses a two-fingered wave to the sec men at the door, slipping a large denomination bill into his pocket and tapping his shoulder with a grin.

«Auto-Judge[]» Dante (#7371) spends 100 nuyen for "For the door guard".

Tailpipe roars around the area a few times trying to find the place, her trike rattling windows all along the way with its roar as she tears around the streets. Eventualy, she finds the right place and parks her bike…on the sidewalk. Poping off she makes sure her vest is in place, her toys are on her, and heads into the joint, giving a sneer at anyone getting in her way.

The mustang rolls to a stop and the Halfer jumps out. Well, lurches. Halfers don't jump. Never seen a halfer in the NBA, have you? Blindside, his usual, subtle self, moves for the door. "Hey!" He says, just moving to walk past the doorman without tipping or otherwise like, paying a cover charge. Cover charge? Those are like, only at the REALLY good places.

Kassandra made sure to get one of the larger booths: after all, she did call these people together. The small elven woman nods to the scarred man as he sits as well as the Big Bear. She sips her drink, waiting on the others. "Please, help yourself to refreshment, it is on my tab."

«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls Intelligence vs TN 9 for "Disguise?":
1 2 3 5 5 5 5 5 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Dante (#7371) rolls Intelligence vs TN 9:
1 4 4 5 7 13 = 1 Success
«OOC» Ghost says, "not sure how much one success gives you …ig you could recognize me later, or you just realize something is 'off' about my look …dont think we have ICly met before …anyway play it as you like"
«OOC» Blindside says, "I use the rule of thumb that he looks… off."
«OOC» Blindside says, "2 is 'familiar'"
«OOC» Blindside says, "3 is 'yeah, thats you."
«OOC» Dante says, "I wouldn't recognize who you really are, I would just spot that it's a disguise?"
«OOC» Dante says, "least that's what I would say"
«OOC» Ghost nods, "then thats how you play it

Tailpipe arrives through the doors just in time to hear the offer. Hell, that must be her table, since they are giving away free booze. She grins happily as she plops down at the table without even checking if it's the right one. "Mug of whisky!" She bellows to any of the servers nearby while crossing her arms behind her head and leaning back in her seat.

Blindside doesn't do disguises, unless maybe you dressed him up as a cheap christmas tree. He strolls on in, with that 'gangster walk' that the trolls and orks use. ONly he's a halfer, so it looks… wrong.

Dante slides in quietly, giving the others an appraising look, specifically Ghost, who earns himself a few extra seconds of regard before Dante simply crosses his arms over his chest and waits to be told what's going on.

Bear sits at the table, eying people as they arrive, stare growing grimmer (grimmer? More grim?) as more and more white males appear… then he notices Tailpipe. He sits up straight, adjusts his streettrash (tm) clothes, and puts on his best smell. It's horrifying.

«Auto-Judge[]» Bear (#2592) rolls Charisma for "charming smile!":
1 4

Silk draws the curtain once the runners assemble and get drinks, food, and … the trolls consider mating. A white noise generator kicks in on queue, as well as some sort of scrambler (anyone actively transmitting would notice). The elf doesn't mince words, getting to the point

"Alright, here's the scan, folks. The job is two-part: you are being hired to grab some goods my employer wants, while leaving behind a surprise. The payout is 150 large, divided how you see fit between yourselves. If you are interested still, we can talk."

Ghost nods and pitches his voice just above the generator's hum, "timeframe? what level of intel?

Blindside grunts, grabbing some snackycakes from the food. "I'm large, I'm hard, and I'm ready to get my freak on!"

Dante nods his head, but says nothing further, letting The Saint do the talking.

Tailpipe lifts up the mug filled entirely with some cheap whiskey, taking a large noisy slurp from it. A happy smile crosses her face (not a pretty sight) and she lets out a alchol-laden belch. "Ah, is good!" Yep, free liquer is always good! Looking to the side she gives Bear a wink, a shake of her head making some of her jewlery tink against each other before turning her attention to the tiny pinky. "Is in! Be needing more beer soon!"

Bear grunts, and his smile towards Tailpipe gets bigger before he looks back to Kassandra. "Payout acceptable for Bear. What we steal? House? Tank? Elephant?"

Tailpipe oooo's. "Is always wanting Elephant. Hear they is good eating!" She says enthusiasticly.

Blindside hruhs. "Gonna need a bigger truck for an elephant."

"The timeframe is as soon as possible. I have some intelligence on this facility, but you would be wise do your own recon." Silk leans back, dimming the lights in the booth with the computer before her. A small, three dimentional image floats ghostlike in the center of the table, rotating now and again.

"Your target is the Walton Distribution Center on the far outskirts of the city, nearly in Kansas, actually. There is a digital list that I will provide you. That merchandise needs to be removed and brought to an address also on that chip. You may use either your own vehicle(s) or one that you … find .. along the way."

"The second part of the mission is to leave the packages that will be provided in the locations shown on the disk." She pauses, adding, "Both portions of the mission are required for full payment."

Dante grins suddenly at the thought of Knight Errant putting out an all points bulletin on a team of shadowrunners and their stolen…pachyderm…

Blindside thinks that over… "Whats the merchandise? Like, boxes, or what? Gonna need more details before I can profile a vehicle."

The three-dimentional image of the WDC is of an L shaped building, three stories in height. It appears to be a large facility designed to house merchandise for distribution to the various stores in its chain. The short end of the L is where the trucks dock.

Kassandra taps a few keys, causing the image of the building to condense while a list begins to scroll in mid-air. The merchandise displayed is at first a series of nearly incomprehensible numbers and letters, but a keystroke will cause that to resolve into actual 'real' names for all of this:

4 Large Generators
2 pallets blankets
4 pallets of various camping supplies
100 pallets foodstuffs.

Dante nods. "You're trying to get supplies for the Undertown…" He looks Kassandra in the eye. "Aren't you?"

Tailpipe snorts into her whiskey at that. "Is thinking at good profit she be doing it. Is no dummy."

Ghost says "how quiet this need to be? Is WDC an Ares Subsidiary?"

Bear scratches his head, forcing away thoughts of feed Tailipe his elephant, or showing her what she'll never forget. "What kind of security at facility? Aside from generators, this not high-grade stuff. Light blockage?"

Blindside sniffs, looking over the list. "Gonna need a rig. I can jack a rig, yeah… give me a few minutes and I can reprogram its transponder…"

Kassandra simply stares at Dante, "I? I am not doing anything more than commissioning a job for a client. What they do or do not do with their merchandise after the fact is none of my concern." The woman answers Ghost first, tapping a nail on the desk. "I would not rule out stealth. However, the second part of your mission may cause problems with that."

Silk glances to the Bear, remarking, "There is some security there, yes, as well as a number of drones. My intelligence suggests that they keep one rigger on duty at all times to control the various patrolling units. The place is rather large, so they rely mostly on drones scurrying around rather than having to hire hundreds of guards."

Blindside nods. "Okay. So…" he thinks to himself for a moment. "We can discuss tactics, like, when the Jay ain't here." He read that that was important.

You say "And no, WDC is not an Ares subsidiary. They are an independent company, a AA I believe.""

Dante grins. "Uh-huh…" He nods and seems to accept this explanation, then settles back into just listening.

Kassandra taps a few more keys, bringing up a sketchy map of the facility. 10 glowing red dots appear at various places on the map, flashing in and out like a heartbeat. "The second half of your job is to place the 'packages' that will be provided at these locations, and only these locations."

Blindside pages: Gonna have my truck download pattenrs of paint and transponder codes for that company
You paged Blindside with 'Affirmative'.

Ghost says "our own recon, our own transport, and demo work ….seems the reward is a little light for something so all-inclusive"

Tailpipe shrugs a bit, sipping at her whiskey without realizing such thoughts are being thought. Her mind is on the plethora of booze and drugs this money will buy for her.

Dante sniffs. "Better get two…" He turns to

«OOC» Ghost says, "im going to lose badly, but i want to negotiate on principle …"
«OOC» Kassandra says, "Sure."
«OOC» Bear says, "ooooh."
«OOC» Kassandra says, "Roll them bones, Ghost. Negotiation test vs. TN 8"
«OOC» Dante may roll as well after his next pose
«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) rolls Negotiation vs TN 8 for "cough up the extra!":
3 5 11 14 = 2 Successes
«OOC» Kassandra says, "intelligence?"
«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) has the Attribute Intelligence with the value '7'.
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls Negotiation vs TN 7 for "Negotiation Test vs Ghost.":
3 3 3 5 5 9 = 1 Success
«OOC» Dante says, "bah"

Dante sniffs. "Better get two…" He turns to the dwarf, who he presumes is a rigger (not becuase he's a dwarf, that'd be racist…) He smiles. "If we're going to blow the place up, we should grab a little extra while we're in there… I know some folks who could use that stuff." He considers for a second. "…I'll kick in another 25k for each of you, in fact."

Kassandra leans back, considering the scarred man. She absently taps a few keys, the screen flickering, the light playing off her skin. She waits for the display to change before speaking, nodding to Ghost, "My employer agrees and offers to add an extra 10,000 =Y= in, for a total of 160,000 =Y=." She pauses, eyeing Dante, but saying nothing for the moment. Her left hand hits a few more keys, however.

Blindside raisers an eyebrow at Dante. "Why it gotta be the halfer? Maybe you should go get your own truck, brotha!" he remarks. "But… Naw. I'm not goin on a shopen trip. In, out, with the goods. You want your own op, you do your own op."
Blindside ain't blowin his BIG BREAK!

Bear blinks at Dante. His mother words come back to him: Never Trust a Generous White man. His stare turns grim again.

Tailpipe pulls out a black cigar and chomps on the end, spitting the butt out before poping it between her thin lips and lighting up, the cloud of black smoke soon turning noxious as she puffs on it a few times. "Is think being very profitable job today." She says with a grin, sliding the cigar in and out slight between her lips while looking at bear.

Dante nods. "Very well… then I'll take care of things… and whoever wants to help will get an extra slice." He nods to the woman. "What are the odds you have personell files? I would love to arrange a private chat with the rigger and one of the guards."

Ghost nods satisfied and pulls out his own pocsec from an inner coat pocket, "you have copies of the intel you have? What skillsets we have at the table, i can get in tough to reach spots …

Blindside sighs, glancing at Kassandra, then the others. "HEY!" He says, tapping the table with stubby hands: "In Karl Kombatmage, they always talk about the RUN when the Johnson is gone. Everyone knows the Johnson wants to screw the runners, so lets like, go ELSEWHERE."

Kassandra waits for the runners to finish sub-contracting, commenting only, "The main job comes first, understood? While I can understand the desire to do .. extra .. you are being paid for what I asked you to do. Anything that compromises that would be .. unwise." The elven woman continues, "We do not have personnel files, no. That is part of the information that I am afraid you will have to come up with yourself." She indicates the scarred man at the table, "But you are being paid extra for your efforts now." She allows herself a small laugh at that, sliding a stack of chips over. "What intelligence we have is in there. I wouldn't presume to know anything about it. Are there any other questions?"

Bear shakes his head. "Is good." He looks back across the runners, eyes lingering on Tailpipe far longer than they ever did on Kassandra. "So. Have meeting place for talk before we op? Or go straight in, like oppressive cowboys?"

Ghost slots one of the chips in his pocsec and starts thumbing through the data, quietly waiting to see if anyone else has questions for the j.

Blindside eyes Bear for a moment. Bear is the only one in town who sounds more stereotypical than Blindside.

Dante nods. "I hear ya." He nods to the others. "If I can get some time with the rigger and a guard, I can get us a long way… we may be able to just walk right in, in fact."

Tailpipe smirks at Dante's words. "Is thinking if be getting time with them, can be convincing them to stay out of way…permanently!" She says with a harsh laugh, spittle flying across the table flecked with burned tobaco bits. "Be fun doing it, too!"

«Plot» Blindside says, " I will be contacting Xenon, a racer friend of his."

The information provided on the chips is as follows:

*A rough estimate of the number of guards and their patrol patterns, as well as the times of the shifts (11p-7a, 7a-3p, 3p-11p)
*The general type of drones used in the facility: The have accounted for 2 Doberman, 1 Sentinel P track, 2 Guardian drones, 1-2 Blimp-type drones
*likely patrol routes for the KE forces on that part of town, as well as local near-by facilities.
*The external fence is electrified

Dante shakes his head "Not what I had in mind… I meant that if I can speak with them, I can get information from them… it's a specialty of mine"

Kassandra mock covers her eyes, "La la la." She waves a hand at the runners, killing the display and opening the blinds.

The fence is approx 3 meters in height, with concertina wire across the top for an extra half meter of height.

The next closest facility is 3 kilometers away, and it is a shipping warehouse for Targinian Metals.

Kassandra will slide out of the booth and leave the runners to discuss, closing the shades behind her. She will vanish into the crowd soon thereafter.

«Plot» Blindside says, " I want to know, from xenon, any particular rituals, greetings, customs the companies riggers use."
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 6:
1 1 3 4 5 16

Xenon can give you the information you require. It's the Walton company, after all. They have a long, rich history of employing the lowest common denominator

«Plot» Blindside says, " Thank you. That, combined with proper transponder codes and visual paint, should be enough to get us in the front door."
«Plot» Blindside says, " Provided they 'expect' us"
«OOC» Dante says, "or…"
«Plot» Dante says, "Is there any listing of when the trucks come and go, or is it random?"
«OOC» Kassandra says, "You don't have that information in what is provided."
«OOC» Ghost says, "ok, im going to go do physical recon ….anyone else want to help with that?"
«Plot» Dante will call his decker contact to get info on the loading/unloading times
«OOC» Kassandra says, "Throw some etiquette"
«OOC» Ghost says, "ok kass im setting up an observation position using stealth"
«OOC» Kassandra says, "explain how far out and any precautions, Ghost"

«Auto-Judge[]» Dante (#7371) rolls Etiquette:
1 1 2 5 7 17

An hour or so later your contact will spurt the current loading and unloading manifests to you.

«OOC» Ghost says, "closest neighbor is 3km away …so i'm hiking in from at least that far …want to set up in cover about half a klick from the gate …"
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3 for "Mystery Tests":
3 3 4
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3 for "Mystery Tests":
2 2 4
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3 for "Mystery Tests":
2 3 5
«OOC» Kassandra nods. What sort of cover
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3 for "Weather":
2 3 4
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3 for "Fate":
2 3 3
«OOC» Ghost says, "well ill be in my ruth cloak, but what cover is there already? tree, brush? abandoned rusted out car?"

The grounds leading up to the Walton DC is immaculate, with a fence roughly 50 feet from the building. The grounds are manicured, with the grass a uniform height, short and tight like a marine in boot. The grounds outside the fence are kept short as well, giving whatever — or whomever — a clear line of sight at least a quarter mile from the fence.

«OOC» Kassandra says, "Roll Stealth Ghost"
«OOC» Ghost says, "quarter mile is 400m …so ill be in the edge of the 'not clear'"
«OOC» Kassandra says, "after the stealth, give me a perception test. Also, how long are you planning to watch. what time of day/night are you going?"
«OOC» Kassandra says, "Is anyone else doing anything while Ghost does the physical recon?"
«OOC» Ghost says, "im going 6, stay till 12, lets me see all the shift changes and a normal days biz"
«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) rolls Stealth for "I am the shadow, +8 ruth cloak":
1 1 1 1 1 2 3 3 8 10 16
«OOC» Tailpipe says, "Just goofing off and drinking, since I don't have anything useful I can add at this point."
[Watchers] CLASSIFIED Samuel says, "Without gladdy in the bay, she can hold 900 CF"
[Watchers] CLASSIFIED Samuel says, "Should be fine."
[Watchers] Your Fixer Kassandra says, "Should be more than enough"
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 1:
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 1:
«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) rolls Intelligence for "Magnification, infrared, low-light, and ultrasound":
1 2 2 3 3 5 7
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 6:
1 1 3 5 5 9
You paged Ghost with 'It's a beautiful and snowy day, which gives you extra cover as well as, after being there a while, a nice insulation from thermal detection. You'll be able to watch the workers go in and out, although far fewer than you might expect. About 8 and every four hours thereafter, you will notice a pair of guards exit the building and do a walk-around with a pair of large, well-trained dogs. Up high, you will catch sight of a zepplin drone drifting on currents, stationary above the building. There are cameras above the people doors and the loading doors. The main gate has a gatehouse with two guards, as well as anti-ramming barriers, some sort of strips on the ground, and what appears to be some sort of emplaced gun in the guard shack.'.
«OOC» Kassandra is filling ghost in
«OOC» Ghost says, "do trucks come and go all the time, or does there seem to be a 'open and closing' time …how are the trucks validated when they reach the guardhouse, what kind of sensor systems does the security seem to use (i have security systems skill), what entrances are there other than the loading docks, what do uniforms look like, what kind of ID badges are used"

Blindside takes some time back at his truck, arranging an assortment of boxes to cover the fact that the forward section of his trailer is infact, a house and a vehicular shop. This leaves 900 CF of space for the gear being gathered. Soon, the back of the truck looks like anything else you might see on the road.

"Duncan, what are we doing?" Asks Scabbard, it's gruffly masculine voice betraying a bit of confusion.

"Shadowrunning." Answers Duncan, using a lift-jack to move a tirebalancer to the front of the shop.

"Oh. We are going to commit crime?"



«OOC» Ghost says, "what kind of weaponry are the guards carrying"
«Plot» Kassandra says, "Ghost: The trucks come and go at all hours of the night and day. The trucks look to have some sort of sensor or transmitter, but all are stopped at the gate to check the driver's ID as well. There is a transponder system in the guard shack, you would imagine. You can get a vid/pic of their uniforms (grey with blue). They are using magnetic strip picture ids. Other than the loading dock, there are two doors on either side of the long side of the L. The guards you saw are carrying pistols on their belts. The ones that came outside patrolling were carrying SMGs (Ingram Warrior)"

«Plot» Kassandra says, "You'd wager the pistols are Colt Manhunters""
«OOC» Ghost says, "i want to get some idea of what sensor capabilities thier security system has (motion detection, laser trip wires?, infrared?, ultrasound? pressure plates? sound sensors?) …i have a knowledge skill in security systems"
«OOC» Kassandra says, "Sure, give me a roll and we'll see what you can determine from that far out with eyeballs. :)"
«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) rolls Security Systems for "dont forget my googgles have ultrasound and infrared which should help 'see' some of that":
1 1 10 10 10

«Plot» Kassandra says, "Ghost: The outside of the building looks fairly bereft of security outside of the aforementioned cameras, guards, puppies, guard shack, and so forth. You can tell the external doors all have maglocks (who doesnt?) with cameras and lights above each door. On second glance at the fence, you'll determine that there is a almost invisible strand of monowire above the concertina wire that you would have missed except you saw snow hit it oddly. No laser tripwires or motion detection equipment out here."

Just a sedate drive, the Halfer takes. He jacks in to Gladius, the mustang he prizes more than his own testicles (After all, the mustang is his penis). A nice, normal drive past the facility. He drives a mile away, shifts the color, transponder and plates, then heads back for a second pass.

«Auto-Judge[]» Blindside (#2329) rolls Intelligence for "Sensors four. -2 TN for direct LOS, +1 TN for urban setting":
1 1 3 4 4 4 5 23
«Auto-Judge[]» Blindside (#2329) rolls Intelligence for "Sensors four. -2 TN for direct LOS, +1 TN for urban setting, second pass:
2 2 3 3 4 7 11 11
«Plot» Kassandra says, "Blindside: You bathe the facility as you go by, and can determine much of what Ghost has as well. The fence is definitely juiced, and actually reads higher than what you'd usually find. The guard shack has some odd readings that suggest to you that there is a rigger controlled device in there, and there ya go. It's an emplaced gun, looking to be a Mark 2 Vindicator Autocannon. There is a clever cowling over it to keep the snow out, but both Ghost's senses and your sensors pick it up. You do not read any abnormal EM or ultrasonics, confirming ghosts find of no laser tripwires, pressure plates, ultrasonic blasters, or other strangeness"

Blindside whistles (mentally) as he drives back to Scabbard. "I hope to god these guys know what they are doing. I'm putting a quarter million of truck on the line."

«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3 for "Mystery":
1 1 3
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 1:
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 1:
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 1:

«OOC» Ghost says, "i want to use my scanner to try and find thier comm frequencies"
«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) rolls 10 vs TN 5 for "R10 scanner, can i get the frequencies":
1 1 1 1 2 2 2 4 4 11 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) rolls 10 - 1 vs TN 5 for "R10 scanner, can i get the frequencies kp 1/20":
1 1 2 3 3 4 4 4 5 = 1 Success

Blindside waits back at the truck for the others to assemble. He puts on a pot of coffee in his little dwarf sized, mid-life style micro-mansion on wheels.

Bear arrives at the truck at the appropriate time, dressed much as he was. "Hrk," he says to the truck. "Know you in there. Wait word from ghosty ghost. Maybe get uniforms, facilitate package-dropping inside."

The truck responds, with a masculine, kind of JOhn Wayne (Bad choice, but thats life) voice. "Come in via the rear ramp. YOu are far to large to use the side door." At which point, the back ramp, designed to allow the Mustang to make high speed landings and QUITE strong, descends.

Tailpipe yawns and lets out a few choice curses as she reaches the truck, loaded to bear for what is supposed to be a simple mission. Simple missions are never simple, and never has there been a time when high explosive hasent' been a good idea at some point. So she walks into the back of the truck, shotgun slung over one shoulder, and her MGL slung over the other while her vest contains an assortment of explosive devices. Yes, she loves her boom.

«OOC» Ghost says, "so did i get the frequencies with 2 successes?"
«OOC» Kassandra says, "Sure"
«OOC» Bear says, "okay, so package dropping goes to ghost, me, and tailpipe if we can't carry them all."
«OOC» Ghost says, "encrypted or open comms?"
«OOC» Kassandra says, "They are open"

«OOC» Ghost says, "sweet, so i wanna pick up what transponder signal challenge they are using on the trucks, and as much info about thier SOP as I can get from listening to thier radio chatter …are they well disciplined, is there banter, what the procedure when there is a question about an order or the truck"

Blindside is in the back of the truck, which seems to have a full vehicle repairshop in the middle. He's got cups of coffee, and he seems pretty subdued.

«OOC» Kassandra says, "The transponder signal for the trucks is not on the comm frequency. Most of the chatter you are getting is from someplace inside the building. It isnt coming from the guardshack at all. Most of the chatter is standard things, "Fred checking location 2. Clear." with the occasional chatter about who is sleeping with who, what the game is like, etc"
«OOC» Blindside already has the transponder sigs for the trucks.

Dante covers a yawn with a hand as he pours over the documents he has at his disposal. "Allright… so we get some fake work orders written up, we send in the Trojan Horse to accept the goods. Our delivery boys get off and plant the bombs while we load up the supplies…" He leans back, shrugging. "Then… if things go well, we just drive away before the bombs go off… and if it doesn't, then things get interesting."

A JOhn-wayne style masculine voice comes over the speakers of the truck. "I vote that we get away before the explosives detonate."

Blindside nods. "Scabby's right. That Vindicator will make short work of him, in the end. Maybe stop a few rounds, as I've armored him, but it will just… chew."

Ghost nods, "we monitor a comm channel for us and them, ill leave my jammer with the truck set to thier frequency …you hear that they spotted us …you turn it on, and back us up …

Tailpipe grins at that, patting her MGL. "Is making short work of cannon with this. Just blow up shack!"

«Plot» Kassandra says, "The plan as the GM hears it: Everyone gets in Blindside's truck and uses falsified papers sent in to get on the shipping docket. You load the truck while Captain Sneaky and Bear go plant bombs. Tailpipe and Danter are ….?"

«Plot» Blindside says, " WHile my vehicle is configured and pinging like a friendly. The plan relies on the sense of normalcy."

Dante nods. "I'll need about 8 hours of advance notice to get my part done… just let me know when you plan to move."

Blindside says… "I say they are in the shop, on stand by if we need more muscle. But having my own loaders will look odd…"

Blindside explains. "A corporate loading dock is mostly drones, or dedicated dock workers. It's unprofitable to have roving loaders, unless we're going some place they don't have those facilities. NOw, thats possible, but it does raise eyebrows and we don't want that, ya know, chums?"

Ghost says "imma little concerned about dogs …i kin get by most sensors, and make sure my gear is scent-neutral …but im also thinkin ifn we kin do sometin else to confuse dem noses"

Dante shrugs. "Well… we should keep TP in reserve… one call and she'll wreak havoc on the place, make a marvelous mess of things to cover our escape if needed…" He considers. "I'll ride with the driver, be the wingman, that way I'm there in case someone asks too many questions."

Bear sits in his spot, hefting a tomahawk, checking the balance, making sure all his knives are sharp… and then pulling out his fancy new taccom and checking the settings.

Tailpipe gives a nod in the middle of a yawn. Planning has always been her weak point, and it bores her to death, even if it is neccessary. "Is ready to blow my load for group!" She declares happily.

Ghost preps his outfit and gear, he does wash all his fake uniform in extra-strong common-brand soap, makes sure his gear is strapped tight to prevent bulges and clanking sounds. Familiarizes himself with the 'packages' and finally crawls into the cargo container that will be shipping him

Bear grins at tailpipe. Thinking dirty trollsecks thoughts.

«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 6 + 3 for "Test":
2 3 3 3 3 4 5 5 13
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 6 + 3 for "Test":
1 1 1 2 2 2 4 5 9
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 6 + 3 for "Test":
1 2 3 3 4 4 5 7 9

Blindside walks around his vehicle, doing an external check to make sure the paints good, that the dirt is in the right places. Too clean a rig is odd. "Scabby, we need to drive some mud puddles."

"I dislike being dirty."

"I know. I programmed you for that."

«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 6 + 5 for "Mystery Test":
1 1 2 2 4 4 4 5 5 9 10
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 6 + 5 for "Mystery Test":
1 1 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 5 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 6 + 5 for "Mystery Test":
1 2 2 2 3 3 3 4 4 5 8
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3 for "Mystery":
3 3 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 6:
1 3 4 4 5 5

Blindside eyes the truck. "Okay. Scabby. Give me some.. scratches along the aft drivers corner on the trailer. You scraped a loading dock."

"I did not!"

"Yes, but you're too perfect. A little imperfection is -good-. You know how those corporate guys drive."

"You have a point."

The trucks paint ripples a bit, the scratches coming in to view.

Bear is in his shiny new fake uniform, too. He looks uncomfortable. It's a little tight around the chest. He grunts, not saying anything now, feeling nervous. Wishes there was another injun.

Your decker contact will call back within several hours to let you know that the orders have been given and seem to be in the system correctly.

Tailpipe is only partially wearing her 'new' uniform, and already some of it looks dirty. The front is opened, allowing her to reach her vest she wears under it and all the fun stuff it holds, doing little but make her look like a working without a care of reprimands.

Blindside moves over to a seat in the shop, a jack port popping out of the wall. "Yall… like… relax. I'm a great driver.." And with that, he ceases to be 'here' and is then 'there'.

Autonav: Disabled
Drone Pilot: Standby
Transponder Library: Active
Sensor Suite: Passive

The truck's powerplant rumbles to life then…

Glady goes to position itself near the facility, but in idle, powered down mode should they need some fast support.

Bear looks up as the truck starts moving and tries to find somewhere on his person to hide more knives. This is getting interesting.

The trip across Denver is a long one, driving to the I-70 interchange, and then sliding in to standard corp truck traffic, a mechanical line of rigs that flow in synchronized dance along the interstate. No gaps. No traffic in the truck lane. Everyones linked together, in a way. 55 miles an hour the entire way.

Blindside has taken the detour to be on the road as long as possible, creating a back-track of transponder data so that the vehicle appearing on the wall-mart system isn't doesn't draw notice, and ar oute trace of a few miles will show proper protocol.

Commlink-B-Side> Blindside says, "10 minutes to Facility."

Tonight's weather is a lovely 12 F with light snow in the higher elevations, of which you are thankfully not in. The moon is absent beneath the cloud cover, but the omnipresent lights of the city make darkness a hard commodity to come by. Traffic is remarkably light this evening, although there is word of a pile-up at South Academy.

Ghost watches anime on his pocsec inside teh tight confines of the trojan shipping container

Blindside checks his gridlink traffic flow. "Gladdy, scout the accident. Keep my road open."

"Of course, Duncan."

Tailpipe spends her time stinking up the back of the truck with another of her cigars, the hazy smoke clinging to the ceiling as she puffs away. "Hey, dog! Yeah, you!" she points at Bear and winks. "Maybe u'n'i see each other later, da? Celibrate after is done?"

Bear waggles his eyebrows at tailpipe just before he squeezes into the container with ghost. "I show you how red man plays," He says, and slips in… well, forces entry, more like it. He's very big. There will be chafing. Poor Ghost.

"Duncan." Reports Gladius. "The accident is 14 miles to the south-southwest at milemarker 14. It will not be an issue unless you choose to enter the Pueblo Corporate Council national zone."

"Roger that Gladdy. Get back in position. We're 5 minutes out."

"Of course, Duncan."

Commlink-B-Side> Blindside says, "2 Minutes to contact. No one breath. And put that cigar out! THere are explosives in the rig."

Ghost coughs and comments to bear, "sorry about the snuggably soft stench ….little teddy bear is just so darn cute"

The looming facility lies before you, brilliantly lit up in strategic areas with halogen lamps, especially over the exits. The guard shack is well-lit and likely warm, as the two guards do not seem to be bundled up against the chill. Several other trucks can be seen already parked at the loading bay, likely receiving whatever supplies they are here to pick up or drop off. Gentle snowflakes fall on the truck, melting almost immediately. The roads are relatively clear out here, having been recently plowed; chemical agents can clearly be seen on the roads as well, the telltale pink slush indicating where they are working.

Commlink-B-Side> Blindside says, "Going off rig. Keep quiet."

Scabbard-cum-Walmart Logistical Asset #1292-D moves twords the gate, its engine disengaging from the tranny to let it coast to a rolling stop. He unjacks from the rig, to look out the window of the cab, rolling it down.

Dante massages the back of his neck along the way, sat in the front seat as the wingman, glancing around at the scenery

Bear sits quietly, waiting to be deposited in the right slot. He crowds Ghost's space something awful. Smells like whisky and regret.

One of the security guards in the booth swears profusely, snagging a hat and winter coat from the rack and prepares to go out into the cold to greet the new truck. The shivering man heads to the driver's side, a small data device in hand, no doubt to check the trunk manifest and driver. He first heads towards the back of the vehicle, stopping only to wave at the driver (Blindside) as he does so.

Ghost says "dude you smell like whisky and regret ….thats perfect for a security guard uniform"

Blindside waves back, putting the truck in neutral. The big engine continues to chatter along in the cold.

The guard scans the shipping tag, making note of the information as it comes up on his screen. He sniffles against the cold; fat, wet snowflakes rain down on him as he makes he way back towards the driver's side, the data display device rambling numbers and letters to itself. He looks up and snags the side handle, hoisting himself up to see the driver.

«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3:
5 5 13
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 4:
1 2 4 11
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 1:
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 6:
1 2 2 3 4 4

Blindside sits up a little in his seat. "Hey man. Tits cold, lets get both of us rollen." He says, handing over log-chip.

The guard checks the display, eyes scanning the information and then the dwarf before him. You never really get dwarves in disguise, I mean, who would bother? He slots the log chip, noting the information as he says, "No drek. Colder than my ex-wife's heart, you know?" He laughs that sort of childbeater asshole sort of laugh, handing back the chip, "Bay 23, omae. They have a coupla pots brewing in the break room if you need a refill." With that, he hops down and pats the door, heading back into the warmth of the shack. The barricade retracts, allowing you access into the wonder of Wallyworld.

Blindside takes the chip, slotting it back in to the port on the trucks dash. "No drek! Keep on trucken, omae!" Says the halfer, glad the window was down, because otherwise he'd be sweating bullets. He moves the truck expertly, even though he's not rigged in. In a few moments, the backup-beeps come on as he starts to manouver the truck in reverse.

Commlink-B-Side> Blindside says, "We are at bay 23."

Commlink-B-Side> Blindside says, "Seals should be broken in… a minute, maybe less."

Commlink-RedMan> Bear says, "Noted."

Bear says "Bear regrets nothing. Be ready." He looks up, waiting for the seals to open. "You go first. Make sure clear is coast."

Commlink-B-Side> Blindside says, "I'll tell you when the coast is clear to make a break for it."

Tailpipe leans against the side, stubbing out the remains of her cigar as she pushes away from it, getting ready to blow shit up…or at least wish for it.

The bay doors to the facility open, revealing a wonderland of pallets and drones and the occational worker. A tiny box-like drone zips up, neatly snipping the seal and removing the lock with tiny, nimble claw-like appendages. It zips off after that as an articulated arm comes down to open the back door of the truck. Somewhere in the facility, the order to fill the truck has gone out, sending various tendrils out to drones and workers, identifying the pallets needed.

Blindside climbs down from the rig, using the rungs on the side of it, instead of the more ostentacious mini-elevator. "Lets go, Trainie John. I'll show you the break room and how the back yard works." Says Blindside to Dante. "Show you how it all works."

Dante swings the passenger-side door and slides out. "I am well aware of what the break room looks like, Obi… it looks like every other crew lounge I've seen…" He follows blindside. "…when am I gonna get to drive the thing, huh?"

Bear hits a button to reply to Blindside, but instead hits the morse code button. Being familiar with century-old answering machines, he keeps holding it down, waiting for the beep to stop so he can speak.

Other trucks rumble outside as well, their drivers no where to be seen; likely they are inside the facility somewhere.

«Auto-Judge[]» Blindside (#2329) rolls Willpower:
2 3 3 4 4 5 5

Blindside makes his way along the loading dock to the back of the truck, eyeing the scope of the lay of the land. "We start road training tomorrow." He says, trying to keep his voice calm, level and cool. Under his jacket, he's starting to sweat some.

Tailpipe hangs out in the trailer. Her job was pretty well defined. If things go bad, she makes things go boom.
Tailpipe also knows if she leaves the trailer, she's likely to make things go boom anyways, and probably prematurely.

Ghost snatches at bear's finger to get him to release the code button and stop that incessnt high-pitched tone in his ear

Inside the facility, automated wheeled drones carrying two to six pallets each, either on or off of a truck depending on their orders. Smaller box-like drones speed from here to there along a white line, doing whatever job they have been programmed to do. The occational metahuman worker can be seen, although they are rare, apparently here to verify that the mechanical workers are in fact doing what they are told.

The facility is loud as well, as hundreds of wheels, tracks, rails, and other clanky things boom along, mindless of the auditory chaos they are creating. The perceptive may notice that the metahuman workers have ear protection on.

All in all, it looks like something out of a George Lucas wet dream.

Dante rolls his eyes. "That's what you said yesterday…" He sighs. "Hope the caf is fresh."

«Auto-Judge[]» Blindside (#2329) rolls Intelligence:
1 1 2 3 4 5 5 5

Commlink-B-Side> Blindside says, "Coast is clear. Drones are… go no eyeballs. Just drones."

Bear pushes the kid out. "Go!" He says. "will follow. Don't forget bombs."

Ghost gathers the edges of his cloak around him and activates it before popping the hidden latch and easing open the door in their crate, looking out himself

«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) rolls Stealth for "+8 ruth cloak …":
1 1 2 3 4 4 5 5 5 9 10

The first pallet of supplies begins to arrive for your truck. This order is one of the huge three ton generators. The massive machine is hauled with deceptive ease by the tracked vehicle, the back up beeping almost impossible to hear over the noice in the facility. It grinds to a sudden stop at the mouth of the truck, the beeping ceasing. It sits there for almost thirty seconds, not moving.

Bear follows Ghost, taking a hold of the bombs. "We go," he hisses. "Hurry. they can only delay so long. Split up or stay in pair?"

Tailpipe blinks and waits….why does the damn thing push it in?

Ghost slips his pack with half the bombs on under the cloak, replies by comm

Commlink-White> Ghost says, "split up, time is short"

Commlink-B-Side> Blindside says, "Hammerdown, chums!"

Blindside eyes the machine, then john. "Fraggen peice of drek! Work!"
Blindside says "I got a schedual to keep!""

«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3:
1 1 11
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3:
1 4 4

The machine finally moves, backing away from the mouth of the truck. Another drone moves forward, another of the tracked movers. It stops before the 'trojan crate', an electric eye scanning it for a barcode. This machine seems prepared to remove the crate, simply looking for its destination sticker.

The smells of the facility are mostly oil, machine parts, the occational ozone, and some sort of coffee-ish smell, which is wafting from thataway.

Bear slips out of the trojan crate just in time to avoid being grabbed in it, glancing around… no ruth cloak, but the big guy can move quietly. Of course, he's also in uniform with a spoofed id badge (probably not enough to magnetic strip anything) and he tries to look like he's on official buisness.

Ghost slips past the two doddling loading machines quickly and quietly, heading for the first location the package map indicated

Blindside eyes the Crate… then the machine, then the crate. "Well, ya daft machine! Take it! I got places to go!"

The machine scans the crate for several seconds before making some sort of determination. It removes the offending article from the truck, backing out of the way. The drone carrying the generator then sweeps in, moving to place the heavy item towards the back of the vehicle, calculating the best location for maximum load capacity and load bearing.

Blindside grunts. "There we go! Alright. Another few minutes and we should be out of here. I'm looking forward to getting back to Kansas City tonight."

Drones weave and bob around runner that should cross its path, not seeming to mind the intrusion. The exception to this is Ghost, who will have to actively avoid traffic in the building as his Ruthenium cloak is playing havoc on the machine's radar and avoidance systems.

«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3:
1 3 9
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3 for "Random encounter":
2 5 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) rolls Athletics + 2 for "Jump out of the way of speeding drone!":
1 1 1 2 3 4 4 4 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) rolls Athletics + 2 for "Jump out of the way of speeding drone! kp 2/20":
1 1 2 2 2 3 4 4 13
«OOC» Ghost says, "ill stand"

Bear hurries through the targets best he can, dropping packages in the appropriate places. It's not like he hasn't done… something… like this before. He's blown up more than one of white man's facilities.

Anyone who gives him trouble gets a grim stare before anything else.

Like any trucker, Blindside heads off to the break room. It's not far from the trucks, given the quick turnarond, and will have what a trucker needs. Coffee and a toilet.

Tailpipe watches from the doorway, the crates slowly filling up the truck before she checks on the little side door. She wants to be able to open it in an hurry in case some boomboom needs to be laid down on the wya out.

The breakroom is indeed close, having coffee, some quick snack foods, a toilet, and an oversized trideo system. Four of the truck drivers are in here, watching Spain woop up on Amazonia in football. The bathroom, however, seems occupied.

Ghost dives out of the way of a drone speeding down the path beside his second drop point, he puts the package down and heads towards the next one, looking for walls and wires and other ways to make his path more unconventional and out of the way of the speedin behemoths

Tailpipe will get to see drones loading pallet after pallet of heavy supplies into the vehicle. Can after can of foodstuffs, bags of stuffers, tents, and more. A virtual wall is being constructed as the efficent drones work to fill the vehicle, distributing weight according to the template they have.

Another package down. He moves along, a behemoth himself. Next room, a grim, put-upon stare at one of the few other people he sees, and he tries to walk with his head down… just another lowest-common-denominator within the corporate machine, a wageslave just carrying shite from place to place.

«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3 for "Status check":
3 3 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3 for "Random":
4 4 4
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 1:
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 4:
2 3 4 8

A clanking mechanism will get Bear's attention as the Sentinel P tracked drone cycles by. It stops moving, the short stubby barrel containing a sensor display as well as its main weapon system training on the troll ominously. A questioning red light appears atop it.

The drone gives the electronic equivilent of a 'meh' before heading off again. Apparently a large troll fits the general parameters on staff it was given. It continues circling the facility on its track.

Bear wipes his head, glad he didn't have to try to tomahawk a drone. Possible but awkward. He breathes heavily and sets on his way, now playing the part of a nervous, grim employee. He works quick as he can and makes it back to the truck.

Ghost gives a sigh of relief as he positions his last bomb, and quickly starts back to the truck

Commlink-White> Ghost says, "last daisy planted"

Dante has disconnected.

Blindside eyes the bathroom… "Goddamn it! I gotta get back to my rig. Gonna have to request a pullover in Denver." He turns back to the door, heading back to the rig. No one gets extra personal time.

The truck rumbles likely far too loud for Tailpipe as the drones put the last pallets down. Tons worth of store-ready supplies have been packed aboard, adding extra weight for the driver of this lovely vehicle. The last of the palletjacks begins to roll out, the articulated arm extending to likely close off the truck from the facility. You likely only have moments before you are trapped.

«OOC» Kassandra says, "Bear, Ghost, boogie. athletics rolls"
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 7 for "Bear's athletics.":
1 1 3 4 4 9 9
«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) rolls Athletics:
2 2 3 3 4 4 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) rolls Athletics for " kp 3/20":
1 1 1 2 4 5 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) rolls Athletics for " kp 5/20":
1 2 2 3 5 5 8
«Auto-Judge[]» Ghost (#4253) rolls Athletics for " kp 8/20":
2 4 4 5 5 8 17

Bear drops off the last of his charges as well, and then turns to leave. He can clearly see from his position how the drones are working, the machines just another example of how the White Men have further ruined the world. He moves quickly, leaving stealth behind for speed, his long legs eating up the ground. He'll slide into the back of the truck seconds before the doors close.

Ghost sees the arm reaching out as he comes around the last corner, he swears quietly to himself and has to lean forward and charge through the area, the quick motion making his ruth cloak turn him from invisible to a slightly distorted blur, but he manages to get inside

Blindside moves on back to the truck, climing up the side. HE takes a moment in the cab, doing a corporate regulation check of systems, then an electronic handshake with the master rigger control. Transponders pings and the engine comes back to power. The HUD reveals the load distribution, the fuel status and the nature of the load. "Holy shit…" He murmurs under his breath as he slides the stickshift in to gear to get them rolling.

The articulated arm slams the door closed as Bear and Ghost get in, with little room to spare. The other drone locks the doors down. There is very little room left inside the truck for the runners; the generators take up a great deal of space, not to mention the other merchandise.

Blindside will notice a note attached to his logfile when he checks in, denoting a penalty for a dirty truck.

«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 4:
2 2 4 10
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 4:
1 2 3 5
«OOC» Kassandra says, "Free RP"

Ghost quickly checks over the pallets, attempting to discern if we got all the the client specified

Blindside smirks. Yeah. Well. That just makes the truck seem more real…

Commlink-B-Side> Blindside says, "Okay! We seem to be clear…"

In the narrow space left, you can clearly see the generators in the back, followed by pallets of camping supplies and then hordes of foodstuffs. It all seems there, from what you can tell. Course, if he takes a fast corner you may become more intimately aware of it.

Blindside puts the truck in gear, rolling forward slowly. He doesn't take a corner fast, he tries his level best, to drive slow and safely in the yard. Like a good little corp driver who wants his good little corp driver job. Nothing here to see. Just one of a thousand trucks in and out of here every day…

«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 4 for "Last Random":
1 2 4 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 1:
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 1:
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls 3 for "Query?":
1 1 5

The guardshack doesn't bother to flag down the truck, simply giving it the greenlight and an all-go code through the transponder system. The barricade is raised, allowing you access to the world outside the Walton Distribution Center. The snow is still falling, heralding you as you leave the facility, the crisp night air and relative silence after the noise of the building almost refreshing.

Blindside upshifts for more power as he gains speed, pulling out on to the main road. He will keep it slow for about a mile, before he lets the transponder shift start to happen again… then another half mile later, he takes a turn under an over-pass, using the moment to shift the paint to white, with a random corp logo on the side…

There doesn't seem to be any sort of pursuit. The only thing following you is the wind and snow, with none of the White Men's police in sight.
But his lies… his lies are omnipresent.

Commlink-B-Side> Blindside says, "We're in the clear. Someone wanna call that fixer lady?"

Commlink-White> Ghost says, "lets deliver to her specs first"

Commlink-B-Side> Blindside says, "Gimmie the address."

Bear, for his part, will try to find a good place to ride out the trip. While there is room for Ghost, Bear is a tad larger.
The shop area of the truck has a lot more room than the now full cargo area.. and the smaller than trolls can ride in the 2-room 'apartment' built in to the front of the trailer.

Tailpipe is rather discontented. Didn't even get to shoot anything. Didn't feel like she'd done anything fun to earn the money. Lousy day after all.

Ghost relays the drop instructions from the intel chip, and fishes out his pocsec, watching more anime and not listening to anything that might happen in the workshop …

The address on the chip is 326 N Tejon Street

Blindside on the other hand, is prety stoked. He just did a REAL LIFE SHADOWRUN! He's sweating buckets, but that good kind of sweating, like after having sex for the first time. "Hey Scabby, drive. I'm going to get a soda."

Autonav: Online

Scabbard will deftly manage to locate the address and navigate its way into the busy area. The instructions given will lead the merry band to an underground parking facility in the heart of what used to be one of the most ecclectic neighborhoods in old Colorado Springs.

Once inside the parking facility, the truck will move to park. The facility is only about half full, mostly of sedans and a few other vehicles, as well as several smaller delivery vehicles and vans clustered to one side.

Blindside does a quick sensor scan, cause you know, J's are ALWAYS out to hump you, if you belive Karl Kombatmage.

… And Blindside does.

«Auto-Judge[]» Blindside (#2329) rolls Intelligence: (Sensors test)
1 1 2 4 4 4 4 7

There is the usual EM traffic going on here. In addition, the waiting trucks and vans all have multiple heat signatures, as if more than a few people were inside them and waiting for some time.

Blindside narrows his eyes. "Uh… We have … a lot of people here… guys…" He says uncertainly. Its a trap! The J wants to fuck them! Hard! "Glady… why don't you pull in to position.."

Ghost puts his pocsec away and gets ready to work, sometimes 'runner' is just another word for manual labor

And then, on cue, the black mustang slides in to position next to he truck, smoke screen despenser ready… uh… to despense

Commlink-White> Ghost says, "whoa, confirm hostiles?"

In the time honoured tradition of bad crime dramas everywhere, one of the vans flashes its brights on and off before turning them off.

Trucks engine powers down… but the generator kicks on to provide power to the rig as a whole. Gladius backs away slowly, while the ramp to the back of the truck unseals, swinging down.

The various vehicles begin to disgorge all sorts of men: big men, too. Big, muscular dockworking sort of men, the sort of men who eat entire large pizzas for lunch. One of the larger starts heading for the cab of the truck while the others start towards the back.

Ghost quickly unpacks his cloak again and dons it just before unholstering his squirt
Blindside steps down out of the truck then, almost protective in his stance of the vehicle. "Where's the Woman?" He asks, moving to the end of the truck. "Cause no'n comes off this rig 'afore I get paid."

Commlink-B-Side> Blindside says, "Gladdy, be ready to run this fucker over."

Mr. Big stops with his hands up, "Whoa there, little friend. We are the welcoming committee. Nothing to get yourself riled about." The man backs up a pace, waving a hand for the others to do likewise. "No need for any sort of problem, friend. Let me get Ms. Johnson on the horn for you." He carefully pulls a phone out, and if not shot, will place a call.

Blindside tries hard to look.. tough! Like a -shadowrunner-. Take no shit, expect everything! "Yeah. Lets do that."

Ghost eases himself into a spot with cover behind one of the generators, but with a line of sight to a couple of the burly types

Mr. Big places his call, hanging up probably no less than 10 seconds later without saying a word. He motions for patience, crossing his arms to wait as well.

Commlink-White> Ghost says, "i am not seeing weapons ….what is hostile status?"

Commlink-B-Side> Blindside says, "I didn't say hostile. I said a lotta people."

Two, maybe three minutes later the sound of heels clip-clopping along can be heard echoing in the confines of the underground parking structure. A womanly form, no taller than five four even with heels, can be seen heading this way.

Kassandra/Silk eyes the mexican standoff as she approaches before making a wide circle to see the driver of the rig. She nods amiably to the hired help as she passes them, dressed in a casual black dress and heels, carrying what appears to be a tasty beverage with an umbrella in it.

Blindside waits, patiently…. But when he sees Silk, he turns to her. He watches her… carefully. Like he expects a double cross. They have the manpower now… the positioning. The trucks inside a structure that limits its mobility.. smoke could fill the area quick, but that would affect his own cars too. Oh, you evil woman you!

Commlink-White> Ghost says, "so, its a trap, but thier not hostile …any chance you could clarify?"

Kassandra takes a sip from her drink, letting the fluid go down before asking Blindside, "Any problems?" She motions with an almost lazy gesture for the workers to head back to the back of the truck. Several of the vans start up and begin moving, perhaps looking to get closer to load up the gear … or to kill you all.

Commlink-B-Side> Blindside says, "I never said it was a trap. I said there was a lot of people."

Tailpipe rocks the trailer of the truck as she struggles with the door. "Lemmeout! Is tired of being cramped!"

Scabbard opens its side ramp to let the troll out.

Blindside turns to Silk. "Uh. Not really. We just pulled up an like, I let em load my truck cause the drones hadda' work order for it. In. I took a leak. Out. They probably don't even know its gone yet."

Several of the workers shrink back as Tailpipe is unleashed. Several gasps and 'Madre de Dios!' can be heard. Several cross themselves.

Kassandra nods to Blindside's assessment of the work, remarking, "Lovely, lovely. I have your payment here, if you are ready for it, and these nice gentlemen will be glad to relieve you of your cargo. After that, you may go on your merry." The elf takes another sip of her drink, reaching out her hand towards Mr. Big. He will hand her the cellphone he was using and nod to her before going to oversee the offloading.

Tailpipe stomps down the ramp as she squeeze through the hatch. "Ah! Is being tired of puny room. Is good to be FREE!" She roars out, loving the echo of the parking garage and her voice in it.

Blindside feels a little more confidant once Tailpipe is out of the truck. I mean, who doesn't, when 9 foot of pretty stupid but ferocious trog is at your side? "Okay. Uh, just take it down the back ramp…" He raises a hand to Gladius, still running, down the way. "Don't run no one over, Gladdy!"

"Confirmed, sir." says the car, powering down.

The workers look unsure, perhaps unwilling to be so close to it … her .. whatever. Still, they try to put their mind at ease, starting towards the lowering ramp, only to back up as Bear exits as well. He gives a Grim Stare to the combined group, his gaze only lessening a bit when he sees fewer whites than he expected. Still, he gives a dour glare to everyone involved, moving towards Blindside's side of the truck.

The elf known as Silk watches the proceeds with a thin smile, seemingly satisfied with the proceedings. She dials a number from memory as she watches, speaking into the phone in a soft but clear voice, "Blow it." She snaps the phone closed after that.

Blindside gestures to Silk. "So uh… Money?" he asks, stepping forward a bit. With Dante gone, ghost in the truck and the trolls being the only ones outside, it seems like he's gotta step forward…

Ghost turns off his cloak and comes out from behind the generators, nodding to the workers, "if we can get our payment, and clear out then …

Kassandra ahas, looking around. One of the trucks will open up, disgorging a rather plain looking man that was either a morgue attendant, lawyer, or accountant in a former life. He moves up with a box of sticks, taking the cell from Silk in exchange for what he carries. She offers the box to the team, with Bear moving forward with a quick stride to secure the money before greedy industrialists capture it. He will dole it out to the rest of the team as Silk watches, nodding in approval. "And I believe that just about finishes our business, lady and gentlemen."

Greedy industrialist white men.
And their lies.

Blindside nods to Kassandra. He moves forward then, offering her a hand. "Uh… don't really know the protocol, but uh… I'm blindside. Thats my rig'n car back there I had ta tell not to run ya down… but uh… thanks fer the job."

Kassandra takes the dwarf's hand in kind, nodding, "Good evening, Mr. Blindside. I thank you for a job well done, and hope that in the future you and your … interesting … car might find more work with me." She raises her eyes to the rest of the group, "That goes for all of you. Thank you for a job well done."

Clanks and bangs can be heard as pallets are broken down and boxes are moved in various vans and trucks in a manner that, while not as mechanical as the drones you saw, is nonetheless effective.

Tailpipe is quite happy to snag the credstick and quickly deposit down into her exposed cleavage. "Much goodness! Is thinking need more easy money like this."

Blindside offers her a nod, fishing a piece of paper out of his pocket. He jots down a number on it. "This is ma digits. YOu need something, you call."

Kassandra nods in thanks, taking the paper. Without pockets at the moment, she is something of a loss of where to put it. Nonetheless, she keeps hold of it, taking a sip of her drink as she casts a glance to her 'minions', the day laborers unloading the big rig.

Blindside turns then to the truck, moving around back to observe them unloading it. "HEY! Don't touch that!" He says to one guy who reaches for one of the boxes that make up the false wall.

Ghost nods to kassandra and the others as he pockets his cut, "good op …nobody de wiser, be glad to work wid youse again"

In short order Scabbard is unloaded, the goods distributed amongst any number of smaller vehicles. Silk will make her leave of the runners before that, with a nod of thanks, leaving the others to finish the job. She has places to be on this night, in this place, in Denver

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