>>>>>[Fragg ! Chummers, that was too heavy. never seen so much shadowworld weight in one place. The 'run looks to be a fragger too. I say if we find out how Los Coyotes are distributing OverDrive we'll be able to track it back to Rojo Li - otherwise we'll be sweeping the Sprawl manually (and that ain't fun). >From the sample of OverDrive provided we should be able to get analysis - maybe even a clue. I'm going to be sending over a few mg of the stuff to Gryphon at {DATA ENCYPT}. Meanwhile we're going to have to spread ourselves around the Sprawl to get streetinfo. Milhaus, Ragman, any way you guys can put a MageTrace on this guy ? Me and Legion should go work the gangbars. Personally, I think the fragger is hiding Underground - and that means we have zero prob of sur- prising him. We better move ass on this 'run - I don't think our employers could be described as overflowing with patience. Lets move on what we got. Remember everybody update here at Shadowland if you find anything.]<<<<< -- KHANx (11:23:09/*.**.54) >>>>>[I shall call upon the Loa Maitre Carrefour to assist, since time *is* of the essence. This will take a couple of hours. I'll keep an eye out for Los Coyotes colors on my way to pick up the livestock neseccary for the ritual. Legion, you know where I'll be at. Also, if, by some small bit of luck, anyone turns up a piece of the esteemed Rojo Li, it would be of great benefit to us if it were brought to me. I could then manufacture a material link to him so we could not lose him.]<<<<< -- The Ragman <09:37:59GMT/5-23-54> >>>>>[Uhh... no prob, Ragman. KHANx, I'll start scouring Redmond and that area. I've been seeing these Coyotes over a wider area the past couple weeks. A contact I have in the Ancients told me that they used to be just a localized street gang, and now they seem to have a backer. They're not just for breakfast anymore it seems. You can reach me securely on push 69.703 key {DATA ENCRYPT}.]<<<<< -- Legion <09:48:13GMT/5-23-54> >>>>>[Hey Legion! Remember when me an' Prophet was chasin' you down? Well, we kinda diced a ganger on a bike. Didn't see the name or colors then, but when things settled down I remembered to look under the Humvee. The jacket had the word Coyote on it; the rest of it was shredded along wit' the scum. The arm that was still in the sleeve had a fraggin Gucci/Rolex on it! Strange mix, dontcha think? Anyways, me and Prophet are headed down to Disneyplex for a week or two. Don't do anything I wouldn't do! CYA!]<<<<< -- Bunker <09:55:33GMT/5-23-54> >>>>>[What in the hell have you sent me, KHANx??!! I've spent the last two days trying to evaluate this OverDrive sample and am not much closer to an answer now than when I started. A few things I do know are: 1. It's solvated in methanol (wood alcohol) and contains a relatively high amount of caffeine as a filler. Standard stuff for street drek. 2. It's not crystalline. That's going to be a real problem for analysis. Well, not really, but the spectral analysis doesn't match any of the known drugs in my database (and my database _IS_ extensive - lifted from a certain security firm a few years ago by a friendly decker). 3. Preliminary studies in rats are quite interesting. The animals' reaction is consistent with a highly-potent neurotoxin, but with a slow-acting mechanism. In other words, this stuff seems to destroy brain tissue/nerve tissue, but slowly (painfully?). I'm now analyzing tissue samples and will get back with you. Also, on a long shot, I'm going to try protein and DNA sequencing just to see if the thing is some kind of virus or natural product. Gods help us if it is.<<<<< -- Gryphon k'Shay <08:19:09/24-May-54> >>>>>[I've finally recovered from that ghastly experience of a few days ago. Ragman, dear, you're magick is exemplary, but your technique and hermetic hygiene could use a bit of polish. Associating with you, it seems, might expose me to some rather ghoulish sights, but I've never been one to shy away from adventure when there's a dominant man running the show. But I digress from the original purpose of this memo. During the past day or so, has anyone else noticed the extremely large congregation of Japanese tourists in our fair city? Upon inquiry at one of my favorite social establishments, I discovered that the majority of our guests hail from the corporate halls of none other than Fujitsama HQ itself. 'Twould seem that management has offered tix on the suborbital from Japan to Seattle in lieu of their normal year-end bonus checks, and many have chosen to visit here. (Not that this might be a good way for a corporation to send in operatives without them being noticed or anything. Far be it from me to suggest dishonesty in the corporate hierarchy.) Comments, anyone?]<<<<< -- Millhaus <12:08:47/24-May-54> >>>>>|Good work guys. We got a little progress going our way. Gryphon, it truly scares me that OverDrive is not like anything in your files - it does tell us one thing -- namely, if you can't immediately ident. it it must be some high level junk. I.E. it wasn't/isn't being cooked up in someones backyard, they need a real biopharm facility. Also, it must have originally been created by on e of the Big Boys of psychostim - anybody got info or an idea who? Ragman, about your request- I managed to locate Rojo's previous pad . . . It wa s cleaned out professionally. Nothing/Zilch/Zero is what I found. We'll keep looking, but do the best you can for now. As for the Coyotes, NightShade, a friend of mine says that until Overdrive came along these gangers were typical macho local gangers - then BOOM, they got guns training, cyberware, and have taken up rituals that could make Ragman go white . . . Ya I know hard to believe. Also, I traced a carload of them to a meet. They met with some other gangers . . . I think it was the BloodSuckers, but it was too hard to see at my range. As for the Nipponese tourists, yah, I did notice that there's an unusual nuber of them - can't turn around without bumping into one. Hmmm! I wonder what thats about. ZIPP Chummers! Lets keep "hacking the Troll" as they say in the Sprawl|<<<<< -- KHANx (15:01:09/5.*.54) >>>>>[I may be new to the net, chummers, but i ain't new to the sprawl. net runnin' ain't my bag of chipsofts. I leave that to my partner. But i got this wiz comp, so i linked up. So that brings me to the point i was gonna make when i got here. Yesterday, i was out for a drink with some chummers of mine when i bumped into an old 'aqquantance' Seems he is now employed by a corp. Told me the word was that it ain't just one corp bringing in their big hitters from japan. Somethin' big is gonna happen, i couldn't get the details, but when thebig guys get together, that mean one of two things to me. one, i get to get paid and eat for a change, or the drek is gonna hit the fan. That's all i got from this guy. He don't speak as easy, when he gots his teeth punched in for selling out his chummers]<<<<< -- Iron Claw (16:25:34/5-24-54) >>>>>[KHANx, rest o' U guyz. I did a little Whisper work on some local gangs and fixers and the info is ominous. Apparently, Rojo and his Coyotes are making Nuyen faster than they can print it. Now for the bad part. Rojo and his Coyotes definitely have a backer - he gave them OverDrive, and he's giving them trainin and firearms now. Apparently Rojo has a very influential silent partner. Word says that Rojo is spending money as fast as he can make it on stockpiles of hardware and allied goods. He's ready for serious gang warfare. Where the stuff is or who he gets it from is a mystery. Heres the unusual part. Street prices for weapons and ammo is not going up . . . yes thats right Rojo is not getting his stuff off the street, he must have a direct supplier. No sign of Rojo or his distribution network YET, but I'm working on it. By the way, I managed to snag a few corp IDs off some of our local Japanese tourists, would anybody like to get them in Xchange for some info about who these "Tourists" are. I'm very suspicious. Also note that Fujitsama's A class PacFleet composed of the battleship Corporate Flag Battleship Katana plus escorts is on manuevers in the central-south pacific.]<<<<< -- NightShade (18:10:09/5-24-54) >>>>>[OK, amigos. Here's my current analysis. First, OverDrive is definitely a highly potent neurotoxin. It's mechanism of action is identical to that of many snake venoms. I've confirmed this using tissue samples from the central nervous systems of test animals. It's reaction rate, however, is approximately 1000 times slower than any naturally occurring venom I can find. I suspect it's being genetically engineered. KHANx is right, it's coming from a big-time biopharm operation. This isn't some street kid playing kitchen chemistry. Second, I decided to check around to see if any of my contacts/colleagues had ever seen anything like this before. Lo and behold, I actually got something useful from, of all places, the police morgue. And this is too weird. Seems, as we all know, police chief Jerry Tarkett was dusted last week. His body was found in some alleyway, and that's why Lone Star has been putting the screws to the sprawl. My "comrade" who works for the city coroner confirmed that the bullets in Tarkett's head were just for show. He'd been "poisoned" according to official reports. It took a bit of arm twisting (literally), but I finally convinced my "friend" to let me look at the tissue samples from Tarkett. Yes, your suspicions are true. He died of a very potent venom. It matches OverDrive's characteristics to the nines, except it's not been diluted or modified. He got the pure, uncut stuff. I suspect his death was both quick and agonizingly painful. And I suspect it was caused by our Mr. Rojo Li.<<<<<] -- Gryphon k'Shay <08:31:18/25-May-54> >>>>>[Sorry about the unfortunate blood stain on your boots, Millhaus. But no Loa ever got 'isself summoned wit'out a little appetizer first. I have requested that the old one, Maitre Carrefour, assist in this matter. 'e 'as never failed me in these matters before, I hope 'e can 'elp now. Gryphon, could you send me a sample of this Overdrive stuff? If it is anything what it sounds like I may be able to discover something about it with Millhaus' 'elp. BTW, Legion. A couple o' the roosters had a little more life in them than I expected them to, and kind of made a mess of the place. Nitro has been on my back all morning, so I'll be at Bunker's bunker.]<<<<< -- The Ragman <15:44:02GMT/5-25-54> >>>>>[Damn! These Nipponese wage-slaves are all over the place. They're all takin' pictures of what you would think would be very normal stuff. Mostly in the downtown area around some of the Corps. You'd think they'd never seen a fraggin Arcology before! Oh well... OK, the Ancients have let me in on a little secret; Los Coyotes have indeed been working with the BloodSuckers. Why this is is anyone's guess. You'd think they wouldn't need any help after getting all that high-speed training and equipment. But since when do I think like a tomato? I've also heard the Lone Star weenies talkin' about payback for Jerry Tarkett's murder. They've also put up a Y500,000 reward for his murderer's body: dead *or* alive. Take your pick. KHANx, whadda you think?]<<<<< -- Legion <15:56:52GMT/5-25-54> >>>>>|Fragg! Is it just me, or are everybodies alarms going off. Gryphon, thanx for the info. I have some questions though. Could Overdrive be produced by gene tically altering venemous snakes & stuff to produce Overdrive instead of their regular venom ? If so, we should get a decker to tell us if any particular import-export company has been importing alot of snakes lately - moreover we should get a list of pet shops they've been selling to. Imagine this - need a hit of OverDrive ? Go to your local pet shop's back room and get bitten by a "special" snake - 500 easily found locations - One Near You! If that is Rojo's distribution network its fraggin brilliant. As for all the japanese tourists. I'm still trying to figure the angle. But this is what I'm thinking. Rojo got the drug from someone, now is selling and using the proceeds to stockpile arms. He's also getting some very powerful backing. All of a sudden hordes of Nipponese tourists show up in the Sprawl on "tourist" special vacations. By the way, Thanx for the info IronClaw, do you th ink you can pick up any more word on the street about these guys? The major question is still where is Rojo - and why did he kill Tarkett? I can't figure it. Was Tarkett his partner? Did he just stumble on Rojo's secre t or What? Anybody got a clue? As for dead or alive . . .I vote dead.|<<<<< -- KHANx >>>>>|The Coyotes have definitely been networking with the big boss of the Bloo dSuckers. Seems they have the same theology - The BloodSuckers and the Coyotes have been having joint blood rituals - nasty grisly affairs where they keep cha nting about "The Day Of Blood" which they believe is approaching. Apparently, t hey believe that OverDrive weeds out the weak from the strong and paves the way for the strong to rule. A common name I keep hereing coming up in their chants is R'oagoth or some such. Any of you wiz boys got a clue as to what thats about . On another front. I had the IDs that i got off the tourists checked. Most were just standard sarariman - marketing, sales, personell. Some, though, were "classified" and originated from the HQ in Japan. On a totally different front. I heard their were engine troubles aboard the Corp battleship "Katana"so she has to find a class alpha military port for repairs - guess were the closest one is - yep thats right. She's limping into Seattle With escort in a few days. And as we all know the Ares Arms battleship "Zues" is on maneuvers with the UCAS.S. Washington off the coast of Amazonia. The only ships in Seattle port at this time are a few corp and UCAS cruisers and destroyers. Think About It!|<<<<< -- NightShade (11:25:57/5-25.54) >>>>>[Day of Blood? How revolting. I think Mr. Ragman might be more suited for this job than I might be. But the onslaught of "tourists" coupled with the "accidental" mechanical trouble on board the _Katana_ has piqued my curiosity just a tad. Should you need me, I'll be somewhere over the naval base, scanning the ship, the sailors, the seamen ... ]<<<<< -- Millhaus <13:47:50/25-May-54> >>>>>[Yes, KHANx, the reptiles could be genetically altered and _bred_ to produce OverDrive instead of their normal venom. Hell, you wouldn't even have to go to your local pet store for a hit, just buy yourself a little lizard and keep him at home. It is brilliant, and I believe the authorities are going to have one fragging hard time trying to control this one.]<<<<< -- Gryphon k'Shay <13:52:59/25-May-93> >>>>>[Hey Raven TM, Nightstalker: if you're needing some help with any of your cases, let me know. I could use the work. I'm a little lost as far as this OverDrive stuff, otherwise I'd help out there.]<<<<< -- Highlander (13:51:58/5-25-54) >>>>>[ I hear you Highlander. Gangers, blood rituals, and wierd drugs are not my cup of tea. So what have you been up to anyway?]<<<<< -- Nightstalker <14:21:38/05-25-54> >>>>>[ We'll let you know if we need an extra hand, Highlander. Right now the three of us seem to be adequate to cover this case, but I'll keep you in mind for when I need another operative. ]<<<<< -- Raven the Mage <14:23:10/05-25-54> >>>>>[ Come on, Raven. Let Cyberbrains join us. Not only would it allow us to split up into pairs, but it would give me something to do when you two get all kissy-faced. ]<<<<< -- Cerise <14:24:24/05-25-54> >>>>>[ I can have you replaced, you know. ]<<<<< -- Raven the Mage <14:25:43/05-25-54> >>>>>[ Be nice ladies. ]<<<<< -- Nightstalker <14:26:08/05-25-54> >>>>>[Well, It's very hot down here but I'm doing OK. I'm trying to get a job at one of the hotels in the area; my savings from shadowrunning will only carry me so far. The thing about the sprawl here is that there are several "downtown" areas, as one tract of land would get developed, and then another spot a few miles away, so that there are actually several city "centers". There's also a lot of NAN influence; this used to be Cherokee land you know. Anyway, I'll keep everyone posted on my retired lifestyle; maybe I'll get cast in the sequel to that Waco Trid special. Cheers!]<<<<< -- Jaez <16:53:21/5-25-54> >>>>>[Fragg! That crashburns my idea of tracking down Rojo. Well we found out alot of info - but we're no closer to Rojo, his backer, or the setup. This fragger is one canny weasel. I flush outta ideas. Whadda you guys think? Our bosses called me for an update . . . needless to say they want Rojo-on-a-stick for dinner - Soon! IronClaw perhaps theres some info you could glean from anoth er of your ubiquitous sources - we'll cut you in for some of the take if you get us a drop on this guy. Highlander, don't feel left out the party. Any info, at this point, would be good info. The rest of you chummers lets here some reports -- anything we missed ? Rojo and the Japanese tourists plus this Katana incident smell like five day old bodybags to me - it all fits together somehow. The Katana plus escorts are coming in in a few days - whatevers goin' on we got cap it by then. Perhaps we try somethin desperate . . . I bet the gangboss of the BloodSuckers knows where Rojo is . . . But thats a last resort.]<<<<< -- KHANx (23:32:51/5.25.54) >>>>>[Drek! This whole armorment kick that the coyotes are on got me worried. So, I headed out to see what i could find on the whereabouts of our friend. Well, as you have all found rojo is hidden deep. A decker friend couldn't even find his name in some of the recent lone star files. They used to be there. We tend to barrow the info on the competition and keep it on hand. Someone went in and erased it, and all info connected. Worse news, I found a lead yesterday on Rojo's supplier. Get this. It's fraggin ARIES! The training too. Way I figure, Rojo's gonna get the cash, get the guns, get the men, and wage a major gang war.]<<<<< --Iron Claw (9:11:36,5-26-54) >>>>>[Is it just me, or has Lone Star been frequenting the ganger bars a little more than usual? If what Iron Claw says is true (and I have no reason to doubt you) then Ares could be a pretty big bite to chew on. Ah, just like the good ol' days... but I digress. I'm going to take a more passive stance in the searching out of Senor Rojo. You know, let Lone Star show me where he might be. Oh yeah, just ignore any notes you may have seen about Lone Star detectives turning up missing body parts; The Ragman is kicking into his own kind of overdrive (this guy is *out there*). I'm glad he's on our side. I'll start tailing the BloodSuckers in case anything pans out there. If you're right, KHANx, then they'll definitely know something, which is a sight more than what we have now. Hang on, some Lone Weenie is giving my Beemer the eye. I think me and The Ragman'll go inquire as to some possible assistance on our mission. This is gonna be sooooo much fun!]<<<<< -- Legion <15:54:20GMT/5-26-54> >>>>>[ You can't be that poor, Jaez. You working in a hotel is a waste of talent. If your going to retire, at least get a job that requires skill instead of you standing around smiling like an average wage slave. Your just too good of a decker to have to live like that. ]<<<<< -- Raven the Mage <11:43:07/05-26-54> >>>>>[ I'm shocked! A decker getting a job that doesn't have anything to do with computers. If you need money that badly, why don't you just liberate some cash or info from one of the local corps? It's better than being a pretty face at some hotel. ]<<<<< -- Nightstalker <11:54:02/05-26-54> >>>>>[ Ignore them, Jaez. I think you'd be uniquely qualified to work in a hotel. And good luck getting a job in the Waco sequel. I hear their looking for someone to play one of the bimbos. ]<<<<< -- Cerise <11:47:47/05-26-54> >>>>>[ Stop talking about my friend like that! You can be soo mean sometimes, Cerise. ]<<<<< -- Raven the Mage <11:48"15/05-26-54> >>>>>[ KHANx: I wouldn't worry too much about the Katana and its escorts. The Japanese are not dumb enough to start something while in a UCAS port. Their probably bringing the ships into town to either bring in or take out some operatives and equipment that just couldn't be brought across the border any other way. I advise you guys keep an eye out for high powered Yak goons once this baby docks.]<<<<< -- Nightstalker <11:53:40/05-26-54> >>>>>[ You say Ares is involved with this? Give me a day to talk to some friends and I'll see what I can tell you. ]<<<<< -- Raven the Mage <11:55:04/05-26-54> >>>>>[ Legion, Ragman: Why don't you try laying of Lone Star for awhile. If too many of them start showing up dead or disabled they're going to become rather defensive, and I just hate it when Lone Star starts hassling the entire shadow community. Besides, don't you want them looking for Rojo as opposed to yourselves?]<<<<< -- Nightstalker <11:59:18/05-26-54> >>>>>[Artiste/Mercenary is looking for work. I have a selection of snakes which could come in handy. Meanwhile, look for my act, coming soon to a bar near you.]<<<<< -- Dionne <19:27:12GMT/05:26:54> >>>>>>[Heard of the new drek on the street, its called Yellow brick, most peopl e call it simply brick. I hear its nasty. One of my buddies said, it leaves yo u open to suggestions.]<<<< -- *no id present* >>>>>[I don't see what's so nasty about brick. It could come in VERY handy, especially in a convenient, handbag sized spray. "Melts those troublesome, hard to get past security guards in seconds..." Fabulous! It might help me to train my snakes, not that they need it.]<<<<< -- Dionne <20:49:53GMT/05:26:54> >>>>>[Drek man! you know if there was a wrong wind and your handy dandy spray l anded in your face, what happens then when the good old Lone Star boy says<"Sur render and you do" what then eh? This is new stuff any way, I ain't seen it on the streets for more than three weeks, but people are flocking to the stuff.]>>>> -- Echo >>>>>[I'd be glad to keep you company, lassie (do they really get that bad? Raven never struck me as the type to engage in PDA: hell she never struck me as the type to engage in any type of affection, public or private). You'd have to settle for my scintillating conversation; my right arm got injured in an arguement with a soda machine. I got the drink, but nearly lost the arm. Bloody security-minded piece of rubbish...Thank goodness for neural links; imagine how long it would take to type out this message with one hand. Thanks 'Stalker & Raven TM: I'm ever ready to assist.]<<<<< -- Highlander (16:07:41/5-26-54) >>>>>|Ragman, Milhaus, have I ever told you guys that I think your loons - yah, I probably have. Watch it with those body parts, we don't need Lone Star heat on us now. About the Ares thing . . . It kinda makes sense BUT why would Ares tolerate a huge buildup of japanese AND send its battleship Zues away if it was going for a major power play - just doesn't fit. Someone should take out a few Coyotes and check what kind of weapons and body armor their packing - betcha it s Fujitsama. I have managed to isolate some major action in the Underground. My question is this - could the Coyotes be operating with Troll/Ork/Dwarf sanct ion? Theres no love lost between the Undergrounders and Topsiders - but still I just don't think this is Underground style -- I could be wrong. If Rojo didn' t have Undergrounder sanction could he still use the Underground IronClaw if you got any contacts Underground couldya giv'em a buzz? If we had to go Underground to get Rojo it could get very messy, I just hope he doesn't have official Underground protection !!!!|<<<<< -- KHANx (17:00:55/5.26.54) >>>>>|I got a line into Ares - I'll check it out. I they're pulling something big . . . Or are involved in any way I get back to you guys on it.|<<<<< -- NightShade (17:10:13/5.25.54) >>>>>[ Gee, it seems as though I got a run to do in the Carribbean coming up, so, I may not be around for quite a while, but I do hope to see most of y'all when I get back.. Should take no more than three months (I hope), so, I'll see you all then... Laters, and have fun ]<<<<< -CoHort >>>>>[I must apologize for being away for a day or so, but I've been tied up with some personal business. I do, however, have some interesting observations and musings to share. While perusing about the base, waiting for the _Katana_ to dock, I fully expected to have some sort of UCAS wage-mage politely ask me to refrain from entering astral space over the piers. What I did not expect was to be attacked by some half-crazed lunatic wizard wearing black leathers and, of all things, a heinous faux-leather jacket emblazoned with a Coyote logo. Needless to say, I survived. The other gentleman didn't, I'm afraid. It seems he underestimated me just a bit, and that proved fatal. (Ragman, you'd be proud of me. I managed to terminate this one without wretching violently, though I continue to doubt my ability to conduct magic via poultry parts.) He was also carrying weapons, but I'm no expert on these sorts of things. KHANx, I'm sending them to you for identification. They should arrive by **carrier/date/time encoded khanx1**. Also, a thought. Gryphon has informed me that OverDrive must be injected intraveneously in order to be effective. It seems that intermuscular injection or oral ingestion would only break down the proteins in the drug, rendering it useless. This means that our Mr. Li must have been close enough to the good chief Tarkett to inject him thusly. I would suggest that Tarkett might have been on the take, and when he met with Li to "conduct business," they had a bit of a spat, and things got ugly. This might be nothing more than the musings of a rather tired mage. Anyone else have any thoughts? Ah, yes. I almost forgot. I'm most grateful for the participation of our new friends. IronClaw, Nightstalker, Raven the Mage, and the rest. Welcome, all. (Especially RTM - your network reputation preceeds you, m'lady.) I'm going to sleep off this nasty headache now. If you need me, you know how to reach me, or contact Gryphon. He still maintains a key to my flat.<<<<<] -- Millhaus <08:09:27/27-May-54> <<<<<[What the FRAG is going on? I step out of the scene for a while to try to go to college... (thanks Brandy, for the string pulling, BTW) and the first time I log into my new account, I get sucked in by IC blacker than Brandy's worst temper. It's like the sucker was waiting for me! Anyway, my deck got totally geeked. I spent a while in the hospital, and the school was sorry. *shrug* It wasn't their fault. I know that, so I don't care. I think they thought I was going to sue or something. Anyway, I completed the majority of my studies sans decking (ouch). I even studied some Shakespeare. Brandy wouldn't let me back in the Matrix, and this time she really meant it. She must have caught wind of something that I didn't. What the hell was that? Anyway, she's letting me deck again, and this was the first place I went. (Don't you all feel privilaged?) I'm sorry to find that I can't find a trace of some of my old Cohorts, though. I'm a little... worried. Obviously this has soemthing to do with MONICA. I'm not totally clueless, even if Brandy has been trying to keep me that way. Oh, it's not her fault. I imagine I'd be dead by now if left to my own devices. So, look... someone let me know what's going on. And... I'm free to help with anything that I can.]>>>>> -DOA- <11:27:08/5-27-54> >>>>>|Milhaus, sorry you had to go through that Chummer, next time we'll give you a blocker to run interference - but the info is valuable. Obviously, Los Coyotes also find the Katana interesting. I'll check the weapon types as soon as I get them. For my part, I have tracked several Coyotes Underground - I think that their HQ is down there - where is exactly is another (as yet) unanswered question. I'm still waiting to hear from the rest of the group about the Coyotes ties with the BloodSuckers and Underground management. We got to get a move on quick - I calculate we have approx. 70 hours before things go bad in the Sprawl. By the way, Ditto Milhaus's salutations to all you guys (and female mages) as well as any indeterminate genotypes posting on Shadowland.|<<<<< -- KHANx (09:35:56/5.26.54) >>>>>|A note on Ares -- I talked with my inside source at their security dept. This is the story I got: Ares was commisioned by the UCAS to create a easily injectable stimulant that would drasticly enhance combat potential without havi ng any impairment of logic centers. The UCAS wanted increased strength and spee d as well as and LSD like effect (numbing of all pain centers). Ares started work on the project by getting in a joint venture with Sphynx BioPharmeceutical and soon they were showing some progress. 8 months later that had a viable, alt hough not fully safe or effective, protoype - based on hyperL-Dopaneurozine. Just about then a traitor in the project turned off the alarm system in their Research labs outside Seattle allowing a raid (not 'run, but raid) to occur. The personnel and labs were terminated then torched. As of now Ares And Sphynx are very eager to get their product back and find out who the mole is, and who he works for. As for the Katana situation - Ares is frantic, They're calling back the Zues battlegroup and flying in their worldwide assets - preparing for corporate conflict.End Report.|<<<<< -- NightShade (10:07:41/5-26-54) >>>>>[It's probably just my headache, but now I'm a tad confused. On 5/26/54 09:11:36, IronClaw posted that Rojo's supplier is Ares. Today, Nightshade posts that Ares/Sphynx lost their OverDrive technology and want it back, and bad. Am I missing something? Is Ares providing Rojo with weapons, someone else providing the OverDrive, and Rojo playing two ends against the middle? If so, I believe a call or two to certain Mr. Johnsons might end up with a very dead Mr. Li.]<<<<< -- Millhaus <12:19:23/27-May-54> <<<<< [ Hoi! Its Echo again. I heard from a buddy last night some runners star ted shooting up the rusty troll. Some witness said, it was a dispute over this gold brick stuff. Another said that an orc detective Rico, was with the runne rs and started the fight. Man this drek seems bad. I wonder where its coming from. >>>>>] <> *****Encrypt: THANATOS VII >>>>>[Now look here dearie, I've used aerosol psychoactives in opperations and I'll use them again to good effect. Most times I'll take precautions but sometimes you've just got to put your faith in Goddess. Speaking of faith my Sisters here are trying to get an antidote sorted - just in case it needs to be used in a windtunnel. Now can we get back to being civilised again, no?]<<<<< -- Dionne <19:57:58GMT/05:27:54> <<<<<[Ok. I'm getting really scared now. Can anyone hear me? Dark Elf, where are you? NORM??? Anyone??]>>>>> -DOA- <14:16:36/5-27-54> >>>>>[ Chill DOA. Everything is fine out here. Dark Elf and the rest of Delta Epsilon went on assignment and won't be back for awhile. Norm is probably busy helping his dad manage the family business and minding their large house guest. I'm still around and so is Raven and Highlander. Sorry to hear about your run in with the Black Ice. I recently meet up with some, but got better results. Don't worry about MONICA. Dark Elf and I killed a pseudo-MONICA that this jerk named Meyers preserved from the Matrix War. Luckily the code was weaker than the original and couldn't expand, so beating her was much like beating a really fast decker. ]<<<<< -- Nightstalker <12:34:29/05-27-54> >>>>>[ So you went to school! Where at? Was it fun? And do you know where Brandywine has been hiding out lately? ]<<<<< -- Raven the Mage <12:39:09/05-27-54> >>>>>[ Thank you for welcoming us Milhaus and KHANx. ]<<<<< -- Raven the Mage <12:49:53/05-27-54> >>>>>[ Hey! Is there a reason nobody bothers do address me by my name? I'm getting kinda annoyed at everyone saying, "Hi Nightstalker" and "Hi Raven TM" and never bothering to say "Hi Cerise". ]<<<<< -- Cerise <12:50:50/05-27-54> >>>>>[ My friends at Ares said pretty much the same as Nightshades. Yes they were working on a combat drug. It was for the UCAS military. It was stolen from the development sight. Yes, they want it back. Both Ares and the UCAS government are not happy that the Katana will be docking, but they can't deny it access when it needs repairs. They also told me they believe that someone in secret ops is using some of their covert distribution network to supply some local gangs with weapons, but that they are not using Ares built weapons. It would be bad for business to have punks running around with Ares tracable weaponry. ]<<<<< -- Raven the Mage <12:57:59/05-27-54> >>>>>[ First of all Highlander, I not adverse to public displays of affection. I've just never had a reason to do them before. Secondly, we are not that bad! Cerise is exaggerating. Besides, it's Nightstalker's fault. He just won't leave me alone sometimes. ]<<<<< -- Raven the Mage <13:03:21/05-27-54> >>>>>[ Oh, and you do such a good job at resisting his advances. You can't blame him, Raven. It takes two to tango. ]<<<<< -- Cerise <13:05:05/05-27-54> >>>>>[ You hurt yourself fighting with a soda machine? If one of those is going to give you so much trouble I'm not sure we can use your help. ]<<<<< -- Nightstalker <13:06:41/05-27-54> >>>>>[ Come on! If he's only got one arm than I'm at more of an advantage than usual. Besides, it looks like he could use the protection. Can't let another of the savage soda machines take out his other good arm. ]<<<<< -- Cerise <13:08:08/05-27-54> >>>>>[ Alright. He can join us, but you two better behave. ]<<<<< -- Raven the Mage <13:09:11/05-27-54> >>>>>[ BTW Highlander, we have finished the first case, but we are about to start another more involved one. Meet us at Bazil's at 18:00:00 ]<<<<< -- Nightstalker <13:10:59/05-27-54> >>>>>[My dear Cerise. I certainly did not mean to leave you out of my welcoming message. In fact, I'm delighted you've graced us with your divine and inspiring presence. A thousand pardons for my oversight. 'Twill not happen again.]<<<<< -- Millhaus <15:33:06/27-May-54> >>>>>[ Not bad Millhaus. I'll give it 9 out of 10. ]<<<<< -- Cerise <14:32:32/05-27-54> >>>>>[Hmmm, it appears my contact is not as good as i had previously thought. I just tell you what i hear, but will be more careful in the future to verify my info. In any event, Rojo is preparing a full scale gang war. A struggle for all the turf in seattle. Stand strong. "Hi Cerise"]<<<<< --Iron Claw (Wow, no more| time\date) >>>>>|Although I don't have the metafluos teflon-coated manners of my chummer Milhaus, I do welcome you Cerise - how could someone as vivid as you be forgott en. On other matters, I want to thank you Raven, for the confirmation of info - at least we know we're not up against Ares or the UCAS directly - although may- be one of their assets. For our part, NightShade and I snagged a few Coyotes to look at their gear. It Was Not any configuration or Brand in wide production. It Was unserialized paramilitary custom spec gear of a relatively good quality and new production run. One of the SMGs had a sticker on it that displayed a Red Dragon and said "InterPlay Toys - As Good As The Real Thing". Does anyone know anything about InterPlay Toys ??? Betcha thats there supplier. Also I believe Rojo is stocking for reenforcements. After all Los Coyotes (plus Blood- Suckers) are still only half the size of The Ancients. I believe Rojo is expect -ing help. My feeling is - Rojo is stockpiling, probably for Fujitsama, if we find him we find the warehouse, and vice versa. Which means we're going to have to go UnderGround.|<<<<< -- KHANx (******) >>>>>[Nice to meet you, Cerise. OK, I don't think we have to worry about The Ragman doing the Funky Chicken on anybody for a little while. He seems to have sated his appettite on that poor beat-cop. (Nice kid, I hope his insurance plan will cover the medical costs.) But now Lone Star will be looking for a couple of faceless Fujitsama security personnel instead of your's truly. We did get some primo info out of him though. It seems as though the beat-cop grapevine has learned of a Los Coyotes hangout that is also picking up traffic from some of our esteemed asian visitors. It's a restaraunt (of all things) in the downtown area called the "Divine Wind." I consulted our friendly yellow-sheets and (much to my surprise) found out that they cater mainly to those of the Japanese persuasion; by reservation only. The Coyotes don't hang out in the actual restaraunt, but in the "closed for renovations" theatre *right next door*. One more note: after weeding through the standard garden of corporate holdings and ownership deeds, I discovered that both the "Divine Wind" and the theatre are owned by (you guessed it) Ares Macrotechnology. Couldn't find a connection to Fujitsama though. On surveillance, more to follow...]<<<<< -- Legion <05:47:06GMT/5-28-54> >>>>>[Well here I am finally. After many trials and pursuing different contacts I was able to find the means to gain access. This may sound normal, but for a Mage I found a great deal of difficulty in turtling around in this bloody system. Alas, I managed to find my path onto this new realm. So I plan to begin with a Salute. But I must also tell of a strange storm I saw in the Tir last week. The oddest thing I have seen in awhile, it had swirling clouds that held an epicenter of a purple hue, I assenced the area, and I swear I saw little glowing spheres moving back and forth in the clouds. Odd that's all I have to say. Only two other people saw the storm with me, I haven't heard of any other reports recently.]<<<<< -- Moonscyer<1:28:24/27-May-54> >>>>>[ DOA, I think you are losing it.. After all, I'm still here, at least for a few more days, and therefore everyone else is, too. (Muahahaha) But, really, I think that in our absence, this place will go to the dogs (*woof*), or is it already? Well, I hope that it doesn't go too far into the gutter, as I for one plan to return. With another of my wonderful Anime fests (the last one was so fun). And OddBall, you didn't do anything major to the LandRover really...I think that a few scars on it do it good. Not as if it didn't have any there already... ]<<<<< -CoHort >>>>>[ Waaal, folks, sorry it's late but we had a run to do and I couldn't get back to my ghost writer to get the story for y'all. Here's the lowdown on the bachelor party for y'all; I think it was one of the best parties I've ever been to. ]<<<<< -- Steel Stringer >>>>>Includefile: Bachelor Party by Poet -+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+ -+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+ Though he'd had everything ready for a few hours, Stringer was worried. He'd only been in Seattle a month, and already he'd invited the Shadowrunning community to his place. Of course, it was a bachelor party, but the idea that shadowrunners were always a dangerous group existed. Still, he checked again to make sure everything was in order. The 'snack tables' had been set up against the bar; loaded with various foods, they looked to be a main attraction. Then there was the band; Steel Pigeon Returns, his nephew's band, was almost fininshed setting up at the far end of the wide room. He stepped to the back and checked the cake; no bachelor party was ever without the old cake trick. Stringer smiled; this time he had a bit more trick to the cake, one that everyone would really enjoy. A soft whisper was all that warned him of his girlfriend, Dancer, coming up behind him and slipping her arms under his to hold him in a soft embrace. He caught one of her arms with his hand and said, "Don't worry darlin', everythin'll be fine." She buried her face in his back and breathed; she almost never talked, but her body language spoke eloquently enough. He turned and reciprocated her embrace. "You jest git along nah an' git ready fer the paarty," he drawled. She turned her face to his, her bright eyes shining, and kissed him. As always, it took his breath away. Then she was gone, gracefully sliding back into her dressing room. He scratched his head under his black stetson. Lord knew why she liked him; but ever since they'd met on a run in Denver years ago, she'd been his constant companion, friend and lover. One day he'd get the nerve up and marry her. He felt one of his steel interface jacks in his hair. Yeah, about the same day he got rid of his jacks. He turned around again, checking the time. 8:12, PM. They'd be here any minute, and he had to make sure everything was right. A knocking at the door was answered by a tall, lanky cowboy dressed up just like the western icon of the last century. "C'mon in, pardner," he drawled, his western accent thick. Powerhouse strided into the room, and shook hands with the cowboy. "Powerhouse," he said. "Steel Stringer, jest call me Stringer," was the reply. Powerhouse looked around, scanning the room. "I'm the first one here?" "Yep," replied Stringer, moving to open a few bottles of liquor. "Help yerself to the hooch; I gotta make sure all's well, y'know." Stringer moved from behind the bar as Powerhouse mixed himself a drink, downing it with experienced ease. He looked at Stringer, "Where should I put this?" he asked, holding a package aloft in the air. Stringer shrugged. "Never thought abot it much," he said. "Ah knew there wuz somethin' I fergot." Stringer strode into the back room and pulled out a card table. Setting it up, he said, "Jest put it on har." "Ralph, old chap, if you dare to embarass me at this party I will remember it," said the gentleman in the car. The passenger in the back seat to whom he was referring to was spawled sideways, trying to snap a pair of pants while they drove in heavy traffic. "Watch in, mon', I havin' trouble enough wit'out you crazy drivin'," came the reply from Ralph. "We even close yet, or we gotta ask directions?" he continued. "According to the address, we should be just up the block." Blindside scanned the street, noting a certain building with a large parking lot next to it. The neon sign marked "CASHMERE'S". "We are arrived, chaps," said Blindside. He drove the car into the parking lot, noting the two large orks in security blues at the gate. Ralph squirmed and turned, trying to button his pants. "Hey, mon, you gotta take the bumpin' easy, ya know," he grunted. Dressing oneself in the back seat of a Westwind was not very easy. He gasped, and finally got the button done as Blindside hit the brakes to slow into the parking space. Ralph was caught totally unprepared, and flew off the back seat, which startled Blindside into taking his foot off the brake momentarily. The sleek machine roared forward, to plow directly into a parked Dynamit, which sent Ralph over the front seats into Blindside's lap, his feet knocking into Michael Moonwalker's head in the front passenger seat. "Get off me you oaf," growled Blindside, pushing Ralph away. Unfortunately Ralph didn't go very far and managed to hit the shift with his hand, sending the car into reverse. Blindside and Michael could only pray as the Westwind slammed into the wall behind them, doing no doubt irreparable damage to the back end. Then Ralph, who was still flailing away, sent the car into forward, and the black sports car finally buried itself in the Dynamit. Blindside pushed the door opened and crawled out of the wreckage of his prized Westwind, Michael crawling over a protesting Ralph because the impact had ruined his doorlock. "Dammit, Ralph, next time you ride in the bloody TRUNK!" growled Blindside, slamming the door on Ralph. The door closed hard, then swung off the hinge and landed on the ground at Blindside's feet. Blindside grumbled, and it was all he could do to stop himself from doing physical violence to the hapless dog shaman. "Come along, Michael," he said, "Let's hope the party can put me in a fairer mood." They left the scene. Ralph let out a pent-up breath as he sank in relief. Then the troublesome button popped loose again. "By de spirits," he swore, "I shoulda wore a robe." Once inside, Blindside and Michael walked up the stairs to the door and knocked. Upon opening, Steel Stringer greeted them as friends, having met them previously when he backed them up a few days before. Then he broke the bad news. "That was mah Dynamit y'all slammed into," he said solemnly. Blindside stammered, trying to explain and apologize at the same time, but Stringer just shook his head. "Y'all's gonna have to pay fer whut y'all's did. Ah cain't let somethin' lahk thet go unpunished." His hand moved toward his holster, and Blindside cringed, knowing it was too late to do anything, as Stringer's hand came up with some keys, tossing them to Michael. "Ah'm gonna saddle ya with another Westwind," he said, grinning. "Ah needed ta get ridda that Dynamit anyway, Lone Stawer wuz gettin' mighty nosy abot it," he chuckled. "C'mon in, make yerselves ta home." Blindside moved to the bar, noting that Stringer stocked the same scotch that Highlander usually brought. "Ah, a man of fine tastes," he said, pouring himself a glass of Glenlivet. "Hey, 'Side, what about me, huh? I'd like some of that too," said Michael Moonwalker, trying to reach past Blindside and grab the bottle. "Not tonight, Michael," stated Blindside. "Do you remember how you get when you're drunk?" "ME?" Michael squealed. "I'm fine! Gimme the bottle! Gimme any bottle!" He clawed wildly, but Blindside was able to make sure the diminutive elf wasn't able to reach the liquor. "HEY! Stop it! Stop it!" Michael yelled, still swinging wildly, and as he almost reached a bottle of rum, Blindside was able to grab it and hold it high above his head. "NO FAIR! NO FAIR!" yelled Michael, now jumping to grab the outstretched bottle. As the musicians started with an old cover tune, a loud knocking was heard at the door. Powerhouse opened it, and saw a familiar face. "CRUSH!" The big troll smiled, walking into the room. "Hey, everyone, the bridegroom's here!" Powerhouse swung the door closed, and a shout of surprise was heard from the hallway, as Seraphy and Nightfox walked into the room, Seraphy rubbing his nose where the door had hit him. CRUSH looked about the room. "FOOD!" was his only word as he stomped to the snack table, each step shaking the floor as a mad god's thunder only could. Stringer looked at the happy CRUSH. Lordy, he'd seen trolls that big, but never quite as big as CRUSH was. 'Course, there was always Anarkus, but a troll with gigantism had a reason to be big. Stringer sighed. At the rate CRUSH was demolishing the vindaloos, he'd have to call in another order. The next knocking at the door was anwered by Nightfox. Opening the door, he found Highlander there saying, "Well doon't just stond there laddie, invite me in!" Nightfox moved aside as the scottish decker walked inside, tossing his trenchcoat onto the coat rack. "Wherre's the barr?" he asked, then sighting it, walked over where Blindside was still holding Michael Moonwalker at bay. "Blindside, I brrought yahr favorrite, mon," he said, turning to the Englishman and holding up two bottles of scotch. Michael's eyes gleamed, and a microsecond too late Blindside realized what had happened. "No!" he screamed, as Michael grabbed one of the bottles that Highlander was holding up. "Get him!" was all Blindside said as Michael took off toward the stage. Blade swung into the parking lot and waved to the security guard. As his Westwind glided in, he noted the wreck of the two other cars. "Hmmm, CRUSH must be here," he noted to Speed, sitting beside him. "I thought it was kick the Americar," replied Speed, looking at the wreck. "Whatever, I don't think it's safe to park over there," said Blade, swinging the Westwind into a parking stall. On the way up they ran into Ralph. The Dog shaman had finally gotten his clothes to fit properly, and he was on his way up the stairs. "Dogs playing poker," noted Speed, looking at the back of Ralph's tux. "Yeah mon," came the reply, "real chill ya know." Ralph knocked at the door. The door opened, and Michael rushed past the three, with Blindside and Highlander in hot pursuit. "Get him!" was all the three heard before the trio disappeared down the steps. They walked in, and scanned the room. Stringer saw this. "Next tahm Ah'll maark everythin' fer y'all," he announced, "So y'all'l know whar the exits an' all are," he finished. Blade and Speed laughed. Only shadowrunners could be so paranoid, and Stringer had caught them in the act. A round of introductions, and Blade and Steel joined CRUSH at consuming mass quantities. The party was getting noisy when the foursome of Punisher, Noname, Polish and I.B.A. got there, each carrying 5 slabs of German lager. Noting the vindaloos were already there, I.B.A. put the beer down and waddled toward the food line. Polish immediately spotted CRUSH and walked over. "Hey, CRUSH," he said, slapping the troll on his shoulder, "Gotta suprise for ya downstairs." "More food for CRUSH?" CRUSH blurted around a mouth of spicy enchilada. "Better. C'mon downstairs and have a look," he said, raising his voice to include everyone. He moved toward the door, narrowly missing a tall indian in a leather duster with the nameplate "BOB" on his lapel. He and CRUSH picked up a slab and started down the stairs. Claw and Lister drove into the parking lot and swerved to avoid Michael Moonwalker, still clutching the bottle of scotch and laughing gleefully. As they shook their heads, they had to swerve again to avoid Blindside and Highlander who were shouting at Michael. "Looks like the party's started," said Lister. "Ay, ya got that right, mate," said an Ork who had just pulled up alongside them on a modified Blitzen with a sidecar. "Hey," said Lister, "you look just like Neil, the Ork Barbarian!" "Sorry mate," said the Ork, "but Neil is my name, but I got no talent for the trid. Gotta lotta talent for the guns though," he added, swinging off the bike. "Who might you blokes be?" "Name's Lister, and this's Claw." The black shaman bowed, dreadlocks waving in the wind. "What'd you bring for CRUSH?" Neil bent down into the sidecar, and brought up a bulky package. "Well, I wuz thinkin' 'bout a few kilo's plastique," he smirked, "in case ol' Crush gets tired of his sheila. But," he grinned, "he might not put it to that use. So I got him something he'll need real soon," he grinned. "What might that be?" asked Lister. "A few bottles o' the best rotgut for seducin' the fairer sex," Neil grinned, "Plus a book on pre-parentin' activities, if ya know what I mean!" Neil, Lister and Claw met CRUSH coming downstairs with Polish. "Hey, CRUSH, where ya goin' ?" asked Neil. CRUSH turned slowly to Neil. "Polish say he got big surprise for CRUSH downstairs," he said. "CRUSH going down- stairs so CRUSH find out what Polish bring him." "Sounds good, CRUSH," Lister said. "We'll catch up with ya in a while." And with that, the threesome went inside the party room. 9:30, and the party'd finally gotten started. People were buzzing and the band was into their originals, blaring out with such volume that they'd already received numerous complaints from other people on the block. Stringer grinned. Thanks to certain "contributions" to the Policeman's Retirement Fund he'd made, Lone Star wouldn't be asking them to turn the music down. He popped open another can of Lager to wash down the spicy tex-mex food he'd been eating. In an hour, the party'd really start. Over at the bar, Powerhouse and I.B.A. were telling Nightfox, Seraphy and Coyote Bob about the last incident in Los Angeles. Blindside and Highlander had finally caught up with Michael but not after the little decker had drunk more than two-thirds of the bottle of scotch; they were now trying to keep him in a broom closet, and toasting each other with shots of Highlander's scotch. Stringer wandered downstairs, and halfway down he started hearing the pounding racket. Oh no, he thought, they're probably pounding the Dynamit even more, which suited him fine, he thought. He emerged, to find CRUSH wielding powerful kicks into the side of a Ford Americar, which one side had already been buckled in. Standing around him were Polish, Scythe, Wolf 359, Neil and Lister. With each impact the Americar jumped a few feet. "Waaaall, gents, y'all enjoyin' yerselves?" asked Stringer. "CRUSH have lots of FUN!" shouted CRUSH, as he did his best to turn the Americar into more of a tin can than it already was. "Your turn, Wolf." Wolf 359 looked at the Americar, and knew he wouldn't be doing any severe damage. Still, he swung his baseball bat into the hood, making a small dent. He sighed. He'd never be the strongest, but the meat didn't matter really. Still, it was quite fun, if tiring. "Your turn, Neil." Neil took a running start and kicked the front left tire. To his credit, the Ork samurai made the car jump a few inches, but what really happened was that the tire immediately blew out with an explosive report. Neil shouted, "YEAH!" as the 'car settled to its new position. "Hey, mate, give it a go, eh?" he said to Stringer. Stringer looked at the car. Even though Wolf was doing his best, Stringer didn't feel like damaging the car. "Reckon Ah'll have to---" and he stopped as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Dancer glided past him, while the other men gazed at her lithe elven beauty. She stood on one foot, and started spinning. When she took out the monowhip, the others ducked, although Stringer knew her control with it was too fine to have any accidents. Then, lightning-fast, she made three passes, and stopped. "I don't see anything," said Scythe, as he unleashed a kick into the side CRUSH had been pounding on. And as the kick landed, the entire top assembly slid off the 'car, landing on the ground, leaving the Americar topless. Dancer looked pleased, and her melodious voice rang out, "A convertible." Laughter followed from all participants. The incessant honking of a large ambulance shook Stringer out of his reverie. "Hey, Stringer!" shouted the passenger. "Move or it's ten points!" "Fahve points, Catcher," said Stringer, but he moved as the ambulance rolled in and parked next to IBA's old school bus. Two men got out, one dressed as a sarariman, the other in an old army longcoat with a flattop on his blonde hair. They looked at CRUSH and the rest of the crew. "Catch-22," said the sarariman, "And this's Zero." Zero laughed at the poor battered Americar. "Who stole the can?" he asked, looking the dented monstrosity over. "I did," said Polish. "But it ain't gonna last very long." "Zero persp," said Zero, as another Americar drove into the lot, parking itself a few feet away from the first one. Zero's eyes seemed to focus as the second Americar turned itself off. "Just start on this one when you get through." And with that, Zero turned, and planted a cybernetically-powered fist in the first Americar's hood, leaving a fist- shaped impression where Wolf 359 had put the slight dent. CRUSH looked at the second car. "CRUSH so happy," he said. Inside, Commander X2 put down the moon juice and noted the room, with the crude signs marking EXIT #1 and EXIT #3 and then the other one over the chandelier saying THIS IS NOT A MASKED LASER! He chuckled; whoever put the signs there was definitely playing on the shadowrunners' innate paranoia. IBA turned to the commander. "So guy," he said, "How was the cat the other night?" "IBA, Ah'm too much of a gentleman ta kiss and tell," said the Commander. "But she was quite the lady, Ah'll admit." He took a can of Lager and headed toward the food table, now being restocked for the third time. "C'mon, guy, tell us the whole thing." IBA walked after the Commander. "This is what a bachelor party's all about. Everyone gets drunk, gets loose and shares their stories with the rest of us. So tell me," IBA said, "Is she as good in bed as I heard she was?" Commander X2 stopped. "IBA, Ah'll thank you to keep your nose out of mah life," he said. "Ah don't want to talk to you about it." "Hey, pal, don't get pissed with me!" IBA said. "I just wanna hear if she's a good lay or not." Although the Commander had heard how crude IBA could be, there came a time when he could only take too much. But Commander X2 was too much of a gentleman to slug an injured person, as IBA was still bandaged from the harrowing LA run. So he stiffly turned away, walking toward Nightfox and Seraphy. As IBA started to follow, a ceiling panel above him opened, and Michael Moonwalker popped out, to land on IBA, crashing both to the ground. "Sorry chummer," said Michael, "but I gotta get a drink!" And he was off, wobbling as he sped away. In the hall, Blindside and Highlander leaned against a door. "Ah doon't hearr a thing," said Highlander. "Ya suppoose the laddie's given oop?" 10:00 and the party was really jumping. CRUSH and the others had just returned from downstairs, at Zero's behest that they save the other Americar for later. Stringer had to laugh at the poor wreck that was what was left of the first Americar; it hadn't gotten interesting until Neil and CRUSH decided to put CRUSH's namesake to good use. Now the big troll was sitting on the big couch, drinking lager and eating the last of the fourth load of vindaloos. Speed's cameras were recording away as the band played their tunes, still blasting away for the partiers' enjoyment. In particular, Coyote Bob and Seraphy were dancing, although not with each other, Seraphy spinning with energy to the hard pulse of the band's latest number. But there was no one else dancing, and a few guys were grumbling about it. IBA in particular was wondering, "Where's the babes? Didn't that Angel say she'd be here?" On cue, the door was opened by Powerhouse, who'd sort of nominated himself to be the doorman for the night. Bouncing through came three feminine forms, one shouting, "We're here, let the fun begin!" Two were dressed in tight clothing but the third wore nothing but a silver-metal bikini and a short leather jacket, plus high heels. IBA grinned, and ambled to the raven-haired beauty wearing almost nothing. "And who might you be, my dear?" he leered. "Angel's the name, Dirty Angel. And this is my sister Kira," she pointed to one of the girls with brown hair, "and her roommate Donna," indicating the blonde with legs to die for, who smiled, with no interest, at the fat decker. "We thought there'd be more girls here, but I guess not..." "Don't you worry your nice little butt about it," said IBA, as his eyes scanned the body part in question. He slipped his hand around Angel's waist, and purred, "We can have fun without them, right?" "Wrong," said Angel, slipping out of his grasp. "You just waddle your fat hoop back to the bar, and we'll be fine." "Fat??? You're calling me fat???" IBA was incensed. True, he _was_ fat, but the slitch had no right calling him that. Or acting like she was too good for him. "Do you have any idea who I am?" He was getting more angry by the minute. "I could take you out and down and you'd thank me while I was doing it!" "I'd just like to see you try, fatso!" Angel was in defensive mode now. The fat decker in front of her was making serious moves toward battle and she didn't know what to do. So she tried to insult him. "You probably couldn't find your dick, let alone know how to use it!" "Bad move, slitch!" And fatso, I mean IBA, connected with a sharp right hand slap, sending the slim rigger reeling. He was about to show her her place when a chromed cyberlimb caught his arm. "Stop," was the only word spoken. IBA turned to look into a pair of cold metal orbs in Zero's face. His cyberlimb held the decker immobile, one of the advantages of enhanced strength. Zero continued. "This isn't the time for fighting. You're a little drunk, chummer, why don't you just do what the lady said?" IBA was furious! He'd show that stuffed-up rigger just what to do with his patronizing attitude! With his free hand, he swung around and managed to connect solidly against Zero's jaw. Now the rigger had a problem; while his cyberarm was exceptionally strong his constitution was exceptionally weak. Zero let go of IBA's arm and thumped onto the floor. "My jaw," he mumbled as he passed out. IBA swung around to survey the rest of the room. "All right, who's --- URK!" he managed to finish, as he was caught in the throes of not one but two control spells. Catch-22 nodded to Nightfox, as he had been just a little slow on the draw, and relinquished control to the dark elven mage. IBA was forced to walk over to the couch and sit down, where CRUSH swung his arm around the decker's shoulders. "CRUSH make sure you have good time," rumbled the troll. IBA grimaced. "I'll get you for this, Nightfox." "You were out of your own control. Someone needed to take over," shrugged the small mage. "I feel no remorse in having to quell a dangerous situation. You are here to enjoy yourself and celebrate our friend's marriage, not to cause a bar fight." Nightfox dropped the spell, and even IBA seemed to breathe easier. Meanwhile Dirty Angel had managed to revive the bruised Zero. "Whu-- where--" He felt his jaw with his flesh hand, winced with pain at the bruise. "Owww. Teaches me not to pick on IBA," he grimaced. Then he looked at Dirty Angel, who gazed candidly at him. "Who do you think you are," she asked, "my hero?" 10:15, and the loud knock at the door made most people jump. Powerhouse moved to open it, but it swung open on its own. After Michael Moonwalker, pursued by Blindside and Highlander, came rushing through the door, the samurai peered into the blackness beyond... and then realized the blackness was coming through the door! A head poked its way through the door, followed by two shoulders. It looked as if a giant were trying to squeeze his way into a door half his size; which, indeed, it was. Most in the room stood in awe as a gigantic troll struggled to get into the room, through a doorway that barely gave CRUSH any problems. The partigoers stood speechless, but Stringer charged forward. "Anarkus, ya came!" He clapped the troll on the arm and steadied him so Anarkus could bring his full self into the room. "Y'all, Ah want y'all ta meet Anarkus, the tawllest troll in awl thuh Northern Hemispheere!" Anarkus was finally inside, and stood as well as he could. Even CRUSH was staring at the troll; The room had a very tall ceiling, such that CRUSH could stretch his arms over his head and barely touch the ceiling, but Anarkus had to duck his head! Anarkus bowed towards CRUSH. "Greetings," he rumbled, "I am Anarkus. I am a friend of Daniel's," indicating Stringer, "and he told me about the party. I came to give you my congratualtions and wishes for a long and happy life." CRUSH stood slackjawed. Heck, the whole room stood slackjawed. Seraphy even stared. "I sense no magic. No cyberware. Nothing to indicate that this man is a phyical adept." Seraphy stared in awe. "How can this person be four-and-a-half meters tall? Such size is impossible for trolls unless..." Seraphy frowned, "Unless they are Dzoo-noo-qua!" Stringer laughed. "Naaaaw, he ain't no monster. Heck, he ain't even no shadowrunner. He's jest a troll with gigantism. He'd be big if he war human." Anarkus smiled, and continued for the decker. "I goblinized when I was thirteen. I stood seven feet tall then. I know that most people with my condition die from heart attacks when their bodies get too big. But I'm a troll, and I regenerate." He smiled. "The doctors estimate I will get to be twenty two feet tall," he grinned. CRUSH looked lost, looking up, and up, at the giant before him. "You plenty big enough for CRUSH," he managed to sputter. Anarkus looked down at the troll, and smiled. "It is not every day that one of our race can find true happiness," he said to CRUSH. "Your marriage is to be celebrated, and for that reason I came to congratulate you." Anarkus took CRUSH's hand and shook it. "And now I must be leaving." "Naw, Anarkus, Ah'm shore ya kin stay here, right?" Looking about the room, Stringer saw assent written on everyone's face. "Yeah, yeah, chummer, y'all jest make yerself t'home and enjoy yerself," he finished, guiding Anarkus to a large chair. "CRUSH happy to have you here," said CRUSH. 10:30. Time to get the party jumping. "Hey, CRUSH, guess whut tahme it is?" asked Stringer. CRUSH looked at his watch. "Little hand on ten, big hand on six... ten-thirty," he finished. And smiled. "Naaw, CRUSH, it's tahme ta git yer presents!" And with that, Powerhouse and the Commander carted over the table, laden with gifts. "This bein' a bachelor party, we're sure this'll help ya with your life ahead, ya know," grinned Powerhouse. CRUSH's eyes were wide as he grabbed the first gift, wrapped in a plain brown wrapper. "That's from me," said Powerhouse, as CRUSH unwrapped the present faster than any kid on Christmas morning, to reveal the latest edition of PATTERSON'S COMPLETE GUIDE TO WOMANISING. "In case ya get tired of Spirit, ya know," the samurai said, clapping CRUSH on the shoulder. The next present was from Neil, and CRUSH was overjoyed at the bottles of spiked wine. "Spirit really like these!" he said half-jokingly. The book was titled METAHUMANITY AND THE KAMA SUTRA, and gave CRUSH a laugh just from the title alone. Neil hugged CRUSH and wished him the best. After this came Polish and Zero. "I got you your gift already," said Polish, "and it's in a nice neat package downstairs, thanks to you and CRUSH." "That's correct," said Zero, "but the next Americar is my present." Next came Noname, who clapped the troll on his arm and said, "I've been working for some time on this." He tucked a ring onto CRUSH's left index finger. "It's a spell lock," he explained. "Touch this ring to this fetish," and he applied the fetish to the troll's shirt, "when you need to escape Spirit for a while." Noname's eyes twinkled. "You'll like it, trust me!" Blade stepped forward next, carrying a long katana, sheathed. "While in Japan, on my last business trip, I found this in a little curio shop in Kyoto. It's excellent workmanship and I'd be delighted if you'd accept it as a gift." He handed the katana, hilt first, to the troll, who accepted, and grinned. Next came the tall indian, Coyote Bob. "Since Stringer's got another present for ya, he let me give this to ya." He brought his hand from behind his back to reveal an iron ball with a chain connected to a cuff. Stringer chuckled. "It's the old ball-n-chain," said Bob. He tried to cuff the ball-n-chain to CRUSH's foot but the cuff was too small. "Oh well," mused the lanky indian, "maybe you can find a good mantel to put this on..." CRUSH was laughing at this last gift, but then Dirty Angel spoke up. "I know how much of a pain your SO can get to be," she said, "so I got you this. Bring it in!" And from behind the door to the storage room Angel's sister wheeled in a small guillotine. "Works, too," Angel said. "In case you get really tired of Spirit." They laughed. Angel's sister Kira was next. She stepped right up to CRUSH, put her arms around him, and kissed him full on the mouth. The kiss lasted a few minutes while the rest of the partygoers made catcalls. Then she broke the kiss and gave CRUSH a card. "My phone number," she said. "Call me if it isn't working out." Highlander spoke up next. "Ah goot ya a bonny gift lad, boot it seems the lassie isn't herrre yet --- " "She wuz here, Hahlander," Stringer spoke up, "But with mah present Ah dint think another one would be good for CRUSH." Highlander was puzzled. "You mean you sent my present away?" "Trust me, Hahlander," said Stringer. "Ah got a REEEL good surprahse fer CRUSH." Highlander let it ride. Neil spoke up again. "I forgot, I had another gift for ya from Swipe and Zee." He pulled out a package. "The boys couldn't be here, recuperatin' in the sick bay an' all, so they wanted me ta give ya this." He passed the box to CRUSH, who opened it. "DONOTS!!!!!" yelled CRUSH, who pulled out a gooey chocolate donut and began eating with gusto. A knock on the door was answered by Powerhouse, who returned with a brown package. "Said it was for CRUSH," said Powerhouse. "Dunno why UCAS Mail would deliver so late." He gave the package to CRUSH while Ralph scanned it. "Don' find no hateful traces," said the dog shaman. "It mus' be a present, ya know." CRUSH opened the box and found two flipcomms, closed link from one to another. A card inside stated, "Sorry I couldn't be there, but use these to make sure you always keep the lines of communication open between you and your spouse. --uplink" Stringer looked at the phones, and whistled. "Ah know those," he said. "Taht beam commo link used only bah UCAS Fed forces, coming out next year. Uplink's pulled uh good deeal," he finished. Punisher tossed something to CRUSH, "Here." CRUSH caught a brand-new Panther cannon. He gasped, "Big weapon, Punisher." Punisher smiled. "Try it out. Go on, trust me." CRUSH looked dubious, but caught Stringer's nod. So CRUSH pointed it at Punisher and pulled the trigger. The high-pressure water jet took the samurai almost by surprise, but still managed to get him soaked. Laughter sounded throughout the room, and even Punisher had to laugh. IBA spoke up next. "Those vindaloos you've been eating were my present," he said. "And the way you demolished them you obviously liked them." When it was Speed's turn, he gave CRUSH a big pat on the back. "Good goin, guy, landing Spirit," he said. "I'm gonna make sure you remember this night. We're trid-taping it for ya, I'll give you a copy later." Finally, Stringer stepped forward, but was interrupted by Dancer. Dancer wore an outift made of gauzy clothing, and had her ballet slippers on. She said only three words in her beautiful melodic voice. "I will dance." The participants cleared the dance floor away as Dancer fiddled with a portable disk player, and as the first strains of elven music came from the small player, she began to Dance. It started slow, as she stepped lightly, tracing an outline on the floor. Nightfox gasped; he had thought the ritual dances of his people had been long forgotten, yet here Dancer was about to perform one of the most difficult dances there were. As she tripped lightly over the floor her costume fluttered in her movements, graceful, sensuous. The music speeded up, and so did her dancing. Already she had discarded two veils from her costume and still she danced. Zero found Dirty Angel clinging to him as they watched the dance, her hands sweaty and her musk filling his senses. This was a Dance of Love, a Dance of Desire, and all within the room felt its call. The music was faster, higher, and Dancer never lost step. Commander X2 watched with fascination as the lithe elven beauty Danced the Dance. He noticed that he was breathing hard, and was very sweaty, although she hadn't revealed any more of herself than her face and hands. Next to him, Scythe was also starting to breathe funny, caught in the mesmerizing effect of the Dance. The music had reached a fever pitch, and Dancer Danced. Noname and Ralph found themselves caught up in the entrancing effects of the Dance. She was using the Dance to Center herself, the two shamans realized, as did Nightfox, amazed that an elf so young could dance so well, and even better than he remembered. All in the room could feel the sexual energy coming from Dancer as she spun, bounced, Danced to the music, Danced to the beat of the night, Danced to the beat of Life... ...and came to a stop, kneeling, in front of CRUSH. No one spoke for several minutes. Then CRUSH managed to say, "She my present from Stringer?" This shocked Stringer out of his reverie. "Naw, naw, CRUSH," he said, still dazed from the Dance, "She may be a perty filly but she's MAH filly." He went to Dancer and helped her rise. "Y'all's present is coming up raht soon... in fact, here it is!" And none too soon, he thought, as he helped Dancer find her way into the storage room. The cake was obviously fake, and obviously had a girl inside. This didn't matter to any of the participants of the party, who watched as Catcher and Blindside walked the cake to the center of the dance floor. There seemed to be some confusion as to where the cake should have been placed, but Catch-22 demanded it be set in one certain spot, over Blindside's opinions that "It just doesn't look right, old chap." Finally Blindside agreed to leave it alone when Catch offered to fill Blindside's glass with more Glenlivet. The band caught on, obviously having been prepared. They swung into a "dirty dance" song, as CRUSH and the others watched the cake start to spin, and ignite candles on the exterior, and then suddenly, the top split open, and a beautiful blonde-haired girl sprang out, wearing not much more than a big smile. "Hi!" she said. "Can someone help me out?" CRUSH was all too happy to oblige, and picked the girl up and put her down on the dance floor. She started dancing around CRUSH and caressing him, touching him lightly and tickling him where she could. "Hey!" exclaimed Lister. "There's another girl in the cake!" So there was, and Scythe helped her out, a brunette with not a lot on but really friendly to the physad. In fact, no sooner had he helped her onto the floor than another girl appeared, to be helped out, followed by another, and another... and then Lister, his hands full of short-haired blonde, made a startling discovery. "I know that girl!" he shouted over the din, indicating the girl who'd just stepped out of the cake. "That's Randii Reynolds!" IBA looked at his partner. "Hey! You're Traci Walker!" He was amazed at the Seattle girl. "Stringer!" yelled Powerhouse. "How could you get the cheerleading squad from the Seattle Seahawks to this party?" "Connections," replied Steel Stringer, his arms full of Dancer. "Besahds, who duh ya think muh brother-in-law is?" He chuckled, then laughed, "You guys ever heard of David Adlam?" "You mean," exclaimed Scythe, "your brother-in-law is the Seahawks' star running back?" "Yep!" Stringer smiled. "Nah y'all jest enjoy mah present ta CRUSH," he said. The troll himself was buried in the affections of Macy Lancome, the Seahawks' troll chearleader. Macy had been blessed with a gentle goblinization and only barely seemed to be a troll, not just a taller (and chestier) human girl. "If y'all wanna take it further there's prahvate rooms upstairs," he added, and noticed that three individuals immediately took his advice. CRUSH was overjoyed. This had to be the best present anyone had given him. Mrs. Armacy lived a few doors down from Cashmere's, and usually didn't have any complaints with the restaraunt. She usually went to bed around 9 and the restaraunt never got too noisy. But tonight she had been jolted out of her comfy ways by the racket from the restaraunt's parking lot. She hobbled up the street as fast as her 87-year-old body could take her, and stopped when she saw the troll kicking the car. Horrified, she went back to her home immediately and called the police. They assured her they were looking into the matter. At ten the din quieted down, but then a half-hour later she was woken up again by loud shouting and even louder music. Furious, she phoned Lone Star again, and demanded that they do something about the racket. "After all," she said, "I pay my fair share of your wages, young man!" The dispatch officer, well aware that orders were to leave the address alone tonight, made assuring noises then hung up. Crazy old bat, he thought. Nearly another half-hour later, the music hadn't stopped, and she was really angry. So Mrs. Armacy went outside and waited. Sooner or later the police would show up and then she'd make sure that those punks would quiet down and stop disturbing her and her three dogs! At the same time, Jack Walters was driving around downtown Seattle with his partner, Malcom. It was a quiet night and the two Lone Star officers were bored, driving lazily around the city looking for innocent civilians to harass for no good reason. Just like they taught Jack at the Academy; innocent civilians were usually Shadowrunning criminals in disguise. His partner, Malcom, dozed easily, stretched back in his chair. Jack turned a corner, and saw a crazy old lady waving her arms wildly at him. He nudged Malcom, who grunted. "Hey, Malcom," he started, "Take a look at the crazy old bat." Malcom opened one eye and looked out Jack's window. "Wonder what she wants," he yawned. "Dunno," said Jack. "Could be she wants us to get her cat out of the tree." Malcom looked at the street scene. "Ain't no trees around, Jack." Jack shrugged. "Maybe she's lonely. These retirees get that way. She just wants to talk us on our ears." Malcom grunted, then struggled to sit up. "Well, are we going to see what she wants?" Jack swung the car over to the old lady. "Guess so," he said. "Anything's better than this boring stuff." When the two officers arrived, Mrs. Armacy was pleased. Finally the police had sent someone. The passenger got out first. "What seems to be the trouble, ma'am?" "Oh officer I'm so glad you're here. Those hooligans down the block are making such a racket I can't get to sleep. And Mrs. Hufnagel down the hall can't sleep either and she's half-deaf. And the noise is scaring my little Poopsie-Woopsie." Malcom stuck his head back in the car. "Disturbance down the road," he said to Jack. "You wanna check it out?" "Dreck yeah!" said Jack. "Finally, a chance to bust some heads." They drove into the parking lot, and immediately noticed the remains of Blindside's Westwind, conjugated with the Dynamit. Then they saw the small cube that remained from the Americar. "Dreck," swore Jack, "Looks like a friggin' gang of 'em. Better call for backup." Upstairs, Anarkus helped himself to vindaloos and burritos. The smaller people in the room were enjoying their newfound company, and several couples had disappeared to the upstairs rooms. Stringer and Dancer were nowhere to be found, although Anarkus suspected that they were engaging in much the same activity. He sat down on the big chair, and took a bite of mexican pizza. The girls remaining downstairs had put a few more clothes on, at least. They'd originally come from downstairs; it seemed there was a trapdoor built into the dance floor for some reason. The girls had gathered in the restaraunt below and climbed a ladder to get into the cake. Anarkus swallowed the last of the pizza and started in on the vindaloos. Several partiers were on the dance floor, and a few sat and made out on the couches, oblivious to those who might be watching. The fat decker had managed to find two women interested in him, and was taking turns in the corner. And behind the bar counter, the occasional cry of "Scotsman Ho!" told him where the scotsman had gone to. Behind him, through the window, Anarkus heard sirens. He shook his head; at least here they were safe from the violence of the Streets. Dirty Angel weaved through the crowd, spotting the center of her attention: the cute elven mage she'd had her eye on all night. Now that she had a few drinks in her she wasn't doing to let him get away. Nightfox noted the drunk human female walk up to him. She was cute, but he wasn't interested. He smiled at her, and continued his conversation with Seraphy and Catch-22. Dirty Angel saw him smile. It proved that he really wanted her; he was just playing hard to get. But maybe he didn't know her intentions; she decided she'd drop subtle hints about her amorous attentions toward him. Angel swung the young mage around to face her. "I like you," she said. "Take me now." "I don't understand," started Nightfox. "Take me!" Dirty Angel wobbled. "Do me, screw me, twice is nice but don't refuse me! (BUZZ!) me, damn you!" Nightfox turned away, with an mumbled, "I'm sorry," on his lips. Seraphy could sense the young elf's emabrrasment. Angel wasn't about to be deprived of his body so quickly. She swung him around again, kissing him full on the mouth and trying to get her tongue between his lips, and her hand groped at his crotch, trying to arouse him. Then she felt a peculiar force take hold of her, and throw her away. Nightfox gasped for breath, his face darker than usual. "Not... INTERESTED," he ground out. Angel was furious; she'd have him if it was the last thing she did! The spell ended, she charged up to him, grabbed his shoulders... Angel suddenly got a vacant stare to her eyes as she limply let go of Nightfox. Catch-22 smiled. "I have just the thing for you, my dear," he said. "Zero!" Zero was on the dance floor, but walked over anyway. "Whattaya want?" Catcher smiled, and concentrated. Seraphy saw the mask spell take effect. Clever, he thought. So now Nightfox won't have to put up with her any more. When it was done, Zero looked like Nightfox, and vice versa. Then Angel swung around toward Zero, put her hands on his shoulders, and the vacant stare came out of her eyes. She kissed what she believed was Nightfox with full Mach 12 force, and found him to be responding! Her lucky day! "Let's go upstairs, Babe," came Nightfox's voice from Nightfox's image. Seraphy looked alarmed. "Voice mask," explained Catch-22. Seraphy nodded, and contnued to watch. "Hell with upstairs, I can't wait that long." She shrugged, and het metal bikini fell off. "Do me here, do me now, just DO ME!" Catch-22 couldn't help but laugh, nearly rolling out of the bar stool as his friend and a slut made hot, passionate love under his feet. "No back-up," said Malcom. "You want we should just do this on our own?" "Yeah, might as well," said Jack. "Besides, from the sounds of it they won't hear us coming." Quietly the two policemen crept up the stairs to the second floor. There, they took the usual stances. Jack nodded to Malcom, who pounded on the door. "Police!" screamed Malcom. Then Jack turned and attempted to kick the door in. Unfortuantely, he forgot the hinges were on the outside of the door, and rebounded. Malcom helped him back up the stairs. "That was smart," said Malcom. "Next time, try opening the door." Jack grimaced. Taking stances again, Malcom pounded on the door. But before he could identify them, the door opened. Jack rushed into the room, only to look up.. and up... and into Anarkus' eyes. "You... have... the..." Jack couldn't believe it; he knew he was going to die. "mother" tumbled from his lips. Anarkus laughed, as did the other Shadowrunners in the room. They'd heard Malcom the first time and managed to shrug into armor jackets and pick up hidden weapons. Malcom looked around. "Jack," he said, "this isn't a gang hideout." Malcom looked at the others in the room. "Jack," he continued, "these people are shadowrunners." Malcom looked at Jack, still trying to find out where Anarkus stopped. "Jack," Malcom said, "We're going to die." "Die? Naaw," said Stringer, who'd managed to throw on his jeans quickly. "We'all jest got together fer a party ta celebrate our friend CRUSH, here, " indicating the second largest troll Jack had ever seen, "his gettin' hitched tomorrow!" "And this isn't a gang hangout?" Malcom seemed relieved. "What about those wrecks downstairs?" "CRUSH get frustrations out of CRUSH's system," said CRUSH. "CRUSH now very happy." Malcom nodded. "Ooo-kay. In that case my partner and I will be going. Sorry to bother you all. Have a good night." He turned, and tried to move the frozen Jack. "Boo," Anarkus said. Jack looked at the troll and laughed once, hysterically. He then looked won at his crotch where he'd managed to wet himself. He then fainted, and was caught by Malcom, who nodded, and carried Jack out. They waited until the police car drove away, and then they laughed... 3 AM. The party had broken down then; Most people had to get up for the wedding. CRUSH had gone home with many happy thoughts and presents and even carried the excess food and lager home with him. Stringer looked at the room; it was a mess. The band had finally broken down and were now leaving. Stringer stood in the center of the confusion and rubble. Even after the police had left the party hadn't stopped. First they had to play Kick the Americar again; it was even funnier when they played while they were drunk. Lister and IBA eventually got so drunk they started crushing beer cans on their heads; this had to stop when IBA managed to knock himself out, forgetting he was still recuperating from the LA run. And everybody had to dance with CRUSH; it seemed Stringer had decided he'd dance with the troll during a song, then Punisher danced with CRUSH, then Norm Yoshida, then everyone else... Stringer looked around, scanning the room. It was a mess; he was glad he didn't have to clean it up. His brother-in-law's service would take care of that. He moved to the bar, and while popping open a can of cola, heard movement under a table. Looking under, he saw Zero still entangled with Dirty Angel. "Shhh..." she said, looking down at the male rigger. "Don't make a sound. Just toss me my jacket." She nimbly got up, then grabbed her metabl bikini, and accepted the jacket from Stringer. "Thanks, lovely party," she said, slipping out the door. "I like her," came Zero's voice from under the table. Stringer bent down and looked at his friend. "Y'all would, yah dirty minded git," said Stringer. "She's jest yer type." Zero got ub, groaning as his bones creaked, and looked for his clothing. "The spell dissolved sometime around midnight when Catch went home. She decided she liked me better than Nightfox. We're going to the wedding tomorrow." Zero had found his underwear and stooped to put them on. Stringer nodded. He looked at his watch. 3:05. "We gotta git outta here," he drawled. "The weddin's at Eleven tomorrow." Stringer looked one last time at the mess as Zero put his pants on. Dancer glided into the room. "Anybody upstairs, darlin'?" asked Stringer. Dancer shook her head. Stringer checked under the couch, and was satisfied that no one was there. "Then let's git out and go." On the way downstairs, it hit Stringer. "Awww no," he drawled, "Blindside scragged the Dynamit and took the Westwind. How are we gonna get home?" Zero smiled as the ambulance drove up. "Need a lift?" On the way home they found Ralph in the back of the ambulance. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= >>>>>[ Whew, the run did take a lot out of us. We'll tell you all about it when we get a chance to catch our collective breath.]<<<<< -- Zero <<<<<[She went south. *shrug* Dunno what she's involved in, but I know it's heavy. Said something about having to guard a Royal Pain. She's up to something with her uncle, that's all I know. She told me to watch for strange weather patterns... But she didn't say anything about purple storms. But with Brandy, who knows. Oh, and yeah, I went to school, but it was only for a couple of weeks. It was fun and stuff... but kind of restricting. I'm glad to be back in my deck, though. I thought I was gonna die without it. You guys have no idea... I mean, you may be used to your decks and all, but I was raised in mine. It was like having all my limbs cut off, and being blinded and deaf. Ever read "Johnny got his Gun"? *shiver* And what kind of drek-head would attempt to revitalize MONICA? Fool. I assume he's dead. I mean, if one of you didn't get him, the MONICA clone surely must have. That's what she programmed herself for... Man, I have got to get myself back in the swing of things. Regarding school, I didn't really immerse myself in the social life, so I really don't know how I'd fair with people my own age. Course, college kids STILL aren't my own age. But I did meet a really neat proffessor... Kinda cute too. *snicker* Wait'll Brandy hears that...]>>>>> -DOA- <9:33:20/5-28-54> >>>>>[I see from Steel Stringer's bachelor party transcript that his girlfriend has been going by the same name as I have. A coincidence, I'm sure. (I should have expected that a female might also choose - or earn - it.) But to avoid confusion, allow me to clarify that I was nowhere near the bachelor party (if I had been, I fear that the music may have disagreed with me rather strongly) and have never met Stringer. Lest anyone make unwarranted assumptions based upon a man going by "Dancer", it seems to fit well for the adopted son of a former UCAS-champion ballroom dancer who has, himself, gone on to become a regional champion. Decking is but an occasional diversion these days, and no longer the consuming passion it once was.]<<<<< -- Dancer >>>>>[ DOA: Delta Epsilon decided not to kill Meyers since they were able to capture him. However seeing that they handed him over to the police and he is wanted for Aggrevated First Degree Murder, I don't expect him to live for more than a year or two. ]<<<<< -- Nightstalker <13:10:59/05-28-54> >>>>>[ I think I understand what you mean. The idea of going through a day without going into astral space at least once is horrible. I guess you deckers feel the same way about the Matrix. Too bad about Brandywine. Maybe she'll come down an visit us sometime. ]<<<<< -- Raven the Mage <13:12:58/05-28-54> >>>>>[ Amazing how much recognition you get if you just speak up around here. I'll have to do it more often. ]<<<<< -- Cerise <13:15:15/05-28-54> >>>>>[ Interesting, Legion. I'd look into it more, but I've got work to do right now. Keep us posted and maybe I can get you some more information. ]<<<<< -- Raven the Mage <13:16:55/05-28-54> >>>>>[Aye, I'm still here as well, though I've been doing precious little of late. Sounds like MONICA II hadn't forgotten what you did to the original, Sierra. To bad about your deck. Whatever happened to that guy (Stone? Rock?) that you had with you right before Mr. Yoshida's kidnapping? Is he why Brandy left? Glad to have you back in; some of us had been getting kind of worried about you. Chastise Brandy severly next time you see her: the lass should have let us know what was going on when you dropped out of sight like that. Ah, well, as long as you're all right...]<<<<< -- Highlander (13:58:31/5-28-54) >>>>>[You think my being one-armed gives you some sort of edge, Cerise? How little you know me, lassie... And that soda machine thing could have happened to anybody!]<<<<< -- Highlander (14:02:32/5-28-54)