IC - Mad World

[arcanus]

The Nipponese Senior waited, his face tight.
He breathed in the serenity of the place, amazing that in the middle of downtown, upon the top of a skyraker sat a 4 acre garden, with a Shinto Shrine in its center.
The man looked at the Myojin-style Torii, the entrance to the large shrine and waited, allowing his Iaido and Taido training to calm him, patience was neccessary.

Two hours passed, rare butterflies swam past him in a cloud of surreal colour, the garden was alive with Japanese fauna.
Miko appeared, her body clearly tired and drained, composing herself she straighted her posture and made her way through the gardens path, across the arched Koi bridge to his seating place.
A deep bow "私達はロックを得ることができなかった" (We couldn't establish a lock)
His frown returned, Miko waited, her breathing calming
"なぜか" (Why?) he replied
共鳴したリンクは十分に強くない、私達必要とするロケットを! (The sympathetic link isn't strong enough, we need the locket!)
He had known this of course, which didn't mitigate the annoyance of the situation.
He stood, bowed too a rare depth for 'Miko'
よくした! 、私達は行かなければならない! (You've done well!, We must go!)
They proceeded from the garden, arriving at the carefully concealed lift doors, the remainder of his team falling in as they began their descent.

[arcanus]

The van pulled up to the rear of the Angel Foundation, the driver a little taken aback by the sudden appearance of a squad of Knight Errant.
The squad checked the van and the package to be delivered, before clearing its delivery.

The huge box was carried through the goods entrance and up to the second floor, where it was left for the attention of Mr Black.
A large box full of robotic parts, circuits and machinery.

[Black]

David Angel, Drake, Ghost and Black were sat in the second floor conference room in the south west corner of the Angel foundation, the blinds drawn shut so that the mid afternoon sun was marked only as a series of bright vertical lines where the individual pieces did not overlap. The lights on the room were off, the subtle glow from the vertical stripes casting enough light for them all to be able to perform their respective activities.

Angel, Drake and Ghost had all ‘woken’ from their trance like states as they returned from their astral quest. They found their colleague, Mr Black, still in a trance of his own, sat at one of the three desks with a fine fibre optic cable leading from the induction datajack in his right temple to the terminal itself.

As the three magi spoke of their discoveries and debated what the meaning of the spell remnant they had found was, Claiburn Black turned to face them, coiling the cable and carefully placing it in his inside pocket.

“I have the phone number of the man who pulled the trigger,” he announced.

“How the hell’d you get that?” Ghost muttered barely audibly.

There was a knock at the door and the conversations dropped off immediately.
“Eh, come in!” Angel called impatiently.

The door to the room opened and a Knight Errant guard stepped in.
“Excuse me for interrupting your meeting gentlemen,” he said with a New England accent, “but there has been a delivery for Mr Black, sir. We’ve had it placed in the storeroom.” He stopped as if there was more to be said, then deciding he continued. “We opened the package, sirs, to check the contents were legitimate. If you don’t mind my saying, sirs, it appears to be drone components.”
The Knight glanced about the room and then with a nod at Black he departed.

Internally Cal was grinning like a kid at Christmas, but externally his face was impassive. “Please excuse me gentlemen,” he said rising from the comfortable swivel chair, “if any of you need me for the next couple of hours, then I’ll be in the workshop.”

The elf made his way to the opposite side of the floor, where above the garage was a huge store room and complete workshop, a legacy it seemed from one of the many previous occupants of the drab ex-government building.

He unpacked the contents, noting that the shippers had broken it down into a dozen main components.
With gusto he began assembling the modified Cyberspace Designs Dalmatian.

Hardware: 14 dice: 9 8 7 7 5 5 5 4 4 4 4 3 = 7 Hits to assemble.
Hardware: 14 dice: 12 11 5 5 5 5 4 3 3 3 3 2 = 8 Hits to install the twin under slung LMG’s and magazines.

Software: 16 dice: 10 10 10 5 5 4 4 3 3 2 2 2 2 = 8 hits to write and install level 5 targeting software

Software: 16 dice: 16 11 11 9 9 5 5 4 3 3 3 3 3 3 2 2 = 11 hits to upgrade the onboard pilot software from level 3 to up to level 6 (depending on success)

[arcanus]

A solemnity surrounded the Soldiers of The Foundation, although they'd won through in the end, the act in itself was horrific.
A trusted friend, guardian of the Foundation had not only been brought low but corrupted, tarnished.
Hanson Alwitcher had been escorted to the Docwagon facility in Downtown Seattle, the former Virginia Mason Medical Center. Secured within the Lonestar Wing, he was under heavy guard.

It had been 'Black' who had identified the curious chip secured within 'Alwitcher's datajack, the Docwagon medics had moved to remove it, however the elf had stopped them. Something had struck him as wrong, out of place, a bad feeling, his feeling appeared to be correct, although they hadn't deduced the nature of the chip, the minute clamps extending from its casing around the jack.

The connotations of what had occured grew darker indeed!

[arcanus]

Uncle Al, looked at the datapad, screwing his nose up as he did, he hated computers and all things not paper.
He was truly a child of the 60s, the 1960s that was.
The Mob fatalities were climbing rapidly, a third of them through reprisals between the two main families, touched off by the 'Silvaro Resturant Hit'.

'Shotozuma must be rubbing his hands together!' he thought, as if reading his mind Rowena entered his study, she'd always admired the slightly classical styling of the study, neutral colours with chrome accessories. "Are you sure your people have this in hand?" she enquired quietly, "It might be better if we take Mary's offer, put it in the hands of the family?"
Al looked up, there was a lot of James in Rowena, however she had a quality that even her father didn't, if he could keep her alive long enough, that quality would be the making of the Finnigan Family.

"No it cannot be family, during these times no one can be trusted, least of all Mary, their resume is good!" he replied, "However in this day and age, how good is any resume!"

[arcanus]

The pressure was building, notoriety was being gained and that was unwelcome at the best of times.
Black looked out of the third floor window of the Foundation building, at thick dark rain clouds that had floated down from Mt Rainier.
His instincts were to close up, shut down any links and take the group back to Oakland, Ghost watched the silence of the group impassively, as if he'd seen this before.

Curren seemed torn with indecision and divided loyalty, the situation was threatening to consume the Foundation and his efforts, but his enterprise to bring light through the darkness now felt like a shackle.
Only Drake seemed unpreturbed, ready for whatever revelation the new day would bring, still thought Black, after a period of fog, frustration and indecision they'd made a breakthough. They had two properties to infiltrate, two properties which had the potential to solve the Mafia riddle .

[arcanus]

It was strange how such a familiar building looked so different in the dark, but then all buildings looked different when empty and the lights down.
‘Karen Ashton' stood upon the second floor balcony and looked down within the atrium of the 'Foundation'.
David Angel had closed it down after another attack, four ninja like assassins had descended upon the building and tried to kill the Foundations inner circle, they'd been mercilessly repelled but not before brutally slaying 'Martha' the Foundations larger than life receptionist, probably for being larger than life.

She hoped that the Foundation would reopen, the local community needed it, but Karen understood that 'Angel' couldn't allow any more of its people to die, not with the maelstrom around it.

Karen turned as a figure stepped from the shadows of the stairway, she monitered its movement as the man approached, revealing the form of Sam Burridge as he stepped into the half light.

"What brings you here Mr Burridge?" she asked cautiously
The government man stepped to the balcony railings, weighing his answer
"I was just seeing the place , I hear its had a rough time" with that he looked at the bullet holes, cracks in the wall and the blood stains.
Karen just looked at Burridge calmly
He turned and looked at her "Hows Angel holding up" that question was a surprise, for a moment she looked a little taken aback.
"I mean it" he said "People who look after people invest their hearts and souls in such endevours, it hurts when people get hurt!"
Karen again regarded Burridge with some interest and reservation
Burridge didn't wait for a reply, he seemed to decide something internally and turned to leave "Tell him to look after himself" he said

"Mr Burridge are you alright" she asked
Sam Burridge turned and looked back, he looked tired, soul tired
"Yeah I think so Miss Ashton, I think so" with that he turned and strolled down the stairs.

[arcanus]

"THIS IS VORD GUBBINS FROM SEATTLE STATE MEDICAL RADIO"

"A BIG howdy goin out to all you poorly people and a BIG get well soon"

"A MESSAGE TO THE KING, YOU MAY BE DOWN BUT NOT OUT!"

"Yeehaw!!"

[arcanus]

Seattle Metroplex Airspace
The FBI Ares Dragon powered off its landing pad, its skylane being cleared by SeaTac ATC and Federal Coyote Attack copters.
Tactical Agent Billsborough rode the turbulence, he loved this feeling, adrenaline flooding his system, his auto-injector firing some stimulants on the request of his bio-monitor.
A major conflict had broken out in China Town on the Bellevue border, the Feds and Lonestar were hoping that some Octagon and Shotozuma big hitters would be present.
FBI, Star and Metroplex Guardsmen were rushing to the scene.

***
West Valley Neighbourhood - West Auburn
The Lucky Fish Market had exploded in fury, the Shotozuma Gumi had struck at the heartland of the Octagon Triad, warriors of the 88 Tigers clashed with Neo-Kensai.
The senior watched from his vantage point, in Auburn, in the last few days he washed his hands in a deluge of Sicilian and Irish blood, his unit were at that very moment only a few hundred meters from him battling the 'Cutthroat' gang, originally a Yakuza allied group who had switched alliances at the beginning of the war.

Miko was slammed backwards by a particularly viscious blow from a ganger, she staggered, the Senior narrowed his eyes distracted from the battle in Downtown, he waited to see if Miko recovered, but she was reacting to slow.
His hand snapped up his Arasaka pistol barked putting a burst through the gangers temple, Miko composed herself, sorcerous armour springing up.
Throughout the nearby alleyways his team were carving the gang up.

***
The International District - South West Downtown
The 88 Tigers were a formidable force, all expert Martial Artists and the majority significant adepts, however the Yakuza warrior they faced was something else, akin to the Samurai of old.
The figure was lithe, dressed in a white warriors kimono, he or she wore a Noh Mask, held a Chochin Lantern in their right hand and an antique katana in their left, gunfire flowed past the figure, spells seemed to have little effect.
The samurai cut a swathe through the triad warriors, until their champion entered the fray.
The Chinese ork propelled himself through the air, no formality, no ceremony, his fists and kicks blurred, the samurai parrying and striking in return, their combat became a blur.
Explosions ripped through market, Chinese businesses decimated within seconds, the Octagon replied with heavy firepower and Wu sorcery, Yakuza footsoldiers falling in droves.
Bloodied the two champions stepped back, panting, each severely wounded.
Again without ceremony, they both turned and walked back to their respective people and vanished.
The forces of Law enforcement were arriving and engaging the footsoldiers, the hand had been dealt, its meaning clear to both sides.

[arcanus]

The glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate;
Death lays his icy hands on kings.

Kismet, Fate, chance, even the wheel of fortune, the denizens of the shadows called it Karma, the revolution of events.
The day began with news that 2XS had been baddly torn up in a matrix fight, the kind of badly torn up where a person ends up in intensive care with potential brain damage.

Just when it seemed as if fate would strip away every ally they had, broken every last scrap of resolve they had, one of 2XS's contacts in Seattle came through.
He'd found the location of the Carniello Hitter, holed up in Puyallup, however the hounds were loose, he informed 'Black' that a number of hunters were tearing up various Nodes to track him down.
Time was ticking, but this time maybe on their side for once!