Wandered Roads 55

Wandered Roads of Varisia
Session 55
December 1, 2018

Campaign Timeline

Ilsurian Boils Over

12 Kuthona 4711

Kallin follows the newly met spirit, Aureda Rullus, and watches a version of her murder in the shallow water of the lake. He learns a little bit of town history but with no frame of reference, he is clueless. The rest of the group continues to watch the Painted Varisian, who very shortly closes up his stall and heads home.

The group makes to follow him but are distracted by a commotion nearby. They investigate and find that another murder has happened. A local recovering Shiver addict by the name of Filton Legg has been hanged from a tree. While checking out this scene, they meet a local man named Akin who says he is a member of the Truth Advocates, a local group dedicated to preserving the heritage of Ilsurian and providing for the education and enlightenment of the town as a whole. Kallin asks him about some town history and he directs them to the nearby Patriot Library and its benefactor, Genthus Duggern. They follow Akin to the Library and meet Genthus Duggern, a young Human that seems very invested in the town of Ilsurian. Kallin asks some questions relating to the murder of the spirit he met and this line of inquiry seems to get Duggern quite upset, as the woman in question had some connection to his parents. The meeting ends with sore feelings and the group is asked to leave.

Back at the scene of the hanging, some clues are found on the body of Filton Legg, one being that his left hand had been severed and was not anywhere to be found. An obvious clue comes in the form of a piece of parchment pinned to the dead man’s shirt reading “We take care of our own,” written in Varisian. A Harrow card, The Desert, which bears the image of a Sphinx, is found tucked in his vest, clearly a plant. He also has upon him a letter of employment written by Arhaneem Braeton, who is a known business owner in the shipping business.



The group decides the next course of action is to go speak to this Braeton and find out his connection to the hanged man and the rest of the events that have transpired. On the way to his manor house, the group comes upon yet another commotion, this time, a youth from the Carnival has been assaulted by a group of townsfolk. In an attempt to send a message that Varisians are unwelcome in Ilsurian any more, the Chelish townsfolk have nearly killed this youngster.

The mob is broken up and the boy is healed. Some citizens try to argue and continue the fight, but they are shown the error of their ways. The boy, a young man named Milandru, admits to sneaking back into town to say goodbye to a friend he had made. Had the Heroes not shown up in time, the boy would have no doubt been killed and a whole new set of problems would be facing the town and Carnival alike. Constable Byron is called and several of the townsfolk are arrested and taken to the jail.

As night falls, Braeton Manor is approached. Several lights are on in the large house and the group approaches up the front walk. As they get close, someone jumps out of the bushes and fires a crossbow at them, shouting an alarm to others in the house. Another thug appears and throws a flash bomb that nearly blinds everyone. One thug flees around the side of the house and the other rushes inside. The group splits up and gives chase.

Inside, it appears that an ambush has been laid for the group. They are peppered by numerous archers and alchemical grenades. The battle is difficult and several find themselves in trouble. Samad summons his illusion partner, Damas, and the two dance their way into the fray. Outside, Daellin, his speed enhanced by his powerful Shard, chases and neutralizes the fleeing thug. He then enters the house through a window and begins stalking room to room, looking for enemies.

Back in the main hall, a doorway on the 2nd floor balcony opens and Daellin comes out and makes a comment that implicates himself as the killer of the Braeton’s. He then flees through an upstairs door. More thugs appear and join the fight. Finally the battle is over and the perpetrator is apprehended. Borovius Monchello, a local businessman and apparent leader of a secret Thieves Guild, the Gilded Hands, was behind the whole thing. He was using the Carnival as a patsy for his move to take over Braeton’s business, he then switched tactics in hopes of framing the Heroes of Sandpoint as well. The Braetons are found murdered, though their two children were spared and they cower in fear of Daellin, as Monchello had assumed the Elf’s visage when he broke into the house. He admits that the rest of his guild, and partner and wife, Robella, are at their hideout down on the docks. Quick healing and planning sends the group charging for the docks to put an end to this nonsense once and for all.

Session Pics

Characters Present:

Kallin Hawkril, Half-Orc shaman and budding Priest of Pharasma - played by Dan E
Calina - Varisian Human archer and scout - played by Carol C
Daellin Silvanthalas, Elven Farstrider Ranger - played by +Ben L
Samad Aldhul, Human ex-mercenary - played by JeCorey H
Alistar Gavin Lourdis, Human Mageknight- played by Don K
Thim Westerdale, Half-Elf rogue - played by Malcolm G

and +Jason GURPS as the DM

G:InterfaceZero 0.03

#GURPS: Interface Zero

version 0.03
August 20, 2018 - January 6, 2019

Band-Aid Makes It All Better

Friday, August 4, 2090

Where's Phil? You're Not Phil!

First Friday of the month. Time for John to restock the supply closet. Not his favorite part of the job, but it had to be done. There were people out there that needed help and he was gonna need more than spray bandage and anti-inflammatories. The grocery cart that he pushed made all sorts of noise as he made his way to the secondary service dock of South Seattle Medical Center. It was a third rate hospital, but definitely the best one in the area. They were always busy, turning folks away left and right, mostly because they didn't have the credits. Just leaving them to die. 

He pulls the hood of his jacket up over his head as he rounds the corner. He's supposed to look like some sprawler or junkie or something, pushing his cart around. He hates this part, but it's the only way it'll work. If he drove a van up here, security would be all over him. Plus he doesn't drive. Hasn't been behind the wheel is years. 

John approaches the loading dock and sees the steel barrel that's been turned into a makeshift grill. Smoke lazily wafts out of its top. The “go-ahead” signal. John pushes the cart up to the dock and climbs up, looking for his guy. A tall fellow, Russian by the look of him, steps out of a nearby doorway. He's holding a gun, though it's not pointed at John or anything. 

“Where's Phil? You're not Phil,” John says to him nonchalantly.

“Phil isz biszy,” he says in a thick Russian accent. “You're John, the patch man, yes? Come inside,” he motions to the open doorway with his gun. 

John moves through the doorway into the semi-lit hallway he has travelled many times.  Having someone he’s not familiar with makes him very uneasy.  He is glad he can feel “Betty,” his 9mm holdout, against his back.  He prays he doesn’t need to use it but just having it gives a certain level of comfort. John glances back the mob muscle, and laughingly says, “How ‘bout them Cubs?”  The Russian just stares straight ahead with his gun out.

“Fuck the Cubs,” the gangster spits out and shoves John further into the hallway. This part of the hospital is not frequently used and its been much longer since it’s been cleaned. Debris and dead leaves crunch underfoot as the Russian leads him inward. Finally, he stops John and directs him to another doorway to the left. “In there,” he says and gently shoves John into the room. 

Inside the room, what looks to have been some sort of administrative office now being used as a storage area, John sees his contact, Phil, tied to a chair.

There is a red patch on the side of the man’s head where he had obviously been hit recently. When Phil sees John, he starts to struggle and make whimpering noises. He refuses to look in John’s direction at all, and after just a moment of struggling, he sits still again. Also in the room is another Russian. This one is clearly the boss. He is well dressed and clean shaven, his dark hair combed back nicely. High end suit, fancy tie. Definitely the boss. He motions to a chair, “Come in, please, Mr. O’Brien. Sorry for all this, but I couldn’t find your number in my book.” He speaks with smooth, nearly perfect English, only a hint of Eastern European. 

John looks the Eastern European man in the eye, assesses the situation, then states, “Ok, let’s cut the bullshit.  First, I’m not that hard to find so I know this is a meeting was set up to put me in a position where I couldn’t say no to “whatever” you need me to do.  That’s cool, but you do know that you could have of just asked and I probably would have said yes. Second, I know that there’s not much I could do anyway but say yes now. I also realize that you need an off the book doctor for something so you aren’t going to shoot me right now.  I must be very nervous and angry enough ‘cause you got me talking too much.   So here is what I ask.  Just tell me what you want, no bullshit.   We can discuss it.  I might ask a few questions.  But I have to do it regardless.  Also, I need to look at my friend, Phil.  No negotiation on that.  He’s hurt and I fix.  It is in my nature.  It is what I do.  Plus you let him go with no strings attached.  You could just kill him.  Yea, you could. Nothin’ I can do to stop you but I wouldn’t take it well. So, if I live through your request or through this encounter, I may have to patch you up sometime and you may not get, ummm…., let’s say, my best.  Just something to think about. Now I’m done, what do you want?”

The boss sits down, he smiles and leans back in his chair, “I like you, um, hmm, no, no I don’t like you at all, but that doesn’t matter. You seem like what other folk might call ‘a nice guy,’ but whatever, I don’t give a fuck.” He pauses and lights a cigarette. It is long and black and smells expensive. He blows a few smoke rings into the air. His henchman smiles and watches them float up to the dirty ceiling. “Anyway, I think you got the right of it. I need a doc off the books, but I need that doc to be good. Not too good, nobody working at the hospital or urgent care or anything like that. Need a street doc. You fit that bill, but I also need someone I can leverage, and from what I can tell, you don’t got nobody that I can use to leverage. Not really anyway. You are an enigma, an island. But anyway, I know your story is out there, and maybe someday I’ll get a peek at it, but for now, I think I have another way. You seem to like helping people, almost like it’s your job or something,” he laughs at his own joke then gives his man a harsh look when he realizes that he isn’t laughing. The Russian goon quickly joins in with an uncomfortable laugh. “You run a clinic out of your apartment, down in Five Corners, near First South and 168th, right? Above that cheesy pseudo Asian Fusion restaurant and gaming center. Total shithole, but I got the right place, right?” John closes his eyes and nods ever so slightly, knowing that this guy is already certain that he is right. 

“So, here’s the deal, someone’s gonna come into your clinic today, gunshot wound, ehh, lets say wounds, that's probably gonna be more like it.” He turns and smiles at his man, who is now drawing shapes in the dirt on the floor with his shoe. The boss shakes his head and turns back to John. “So, this guy, let’s call him, oh, I don’t know, let’s just call him Guy, he ends up on your table today. You’re gonna fix him up, you’re gonna fix ‘em up real good. Nice and tidy, right? You take care of him real nice like, and that’s a good idea cause his friends probably won’t like it if he don’t make it. But here’s the twist. Before you’re done, you’re gonna leave this tucked away inside of him.” He opens his hands to reveal a folded up piece of gauze. He unwraps the gauze to reveal a small, fleshy little nub no more than a few millimeters across. A few hairs or something seem to be sticking off the side of it. “Organic tracker. Just need to keep track of a friend, but he don’t need to know. Actually, if you wanna tell him, I guess you can, but they’ll probably kill ya for it. You do this, and I’ll have all your supplies that Phil here had ready for ya delivered first thing tomorrow morning. You DON’T do this, and I’ll have something else delivered tomorrow, understand?” He folds the gauze up and sets it on a countertop. He closes his eyes for a moment, nods his head ever so slightly then makes a flicking motion toward John. An image of a man flashes up on his HR display. “That’s him. That’s Guy. We good?”

John puts on his vinyl gloves.  And picks up the device. He searches through his kit for a plastic bag and puts the organic tracker in it. John glances over at the Boss, and proceeds over to Phil to check him out. John does an analysis and realizes that Phil is just banged up a bit.  He grabs a bandage and antibiotic spray to put on Phil contusion on his head.  He then applies the bandage with antibiotic, turns and says to the Boss, “Ok, now we are good. You do know there is another form of leverage you could have used.  It is called money.  I do respond well to cold hard cash.  Yes, I’m a nice guy but that also includes being an honorable guy.  A contract is a contract.  You see, Phil here is my friend not because we are particularly close. We don’t go have beers and talk the current sports games.  He is my friend because he assists in honoring a deal we made.  So, you see I don’t like you now either.  I will do what you ask.  Keep in mind, the more you pull shit like this, I may not be so cooperative.  Because, like you said, you don’t know my story.  And part of me, may not be a nice guy.”  

The Russian mobster looks at John with a sneer. It almost seems as if he is reaching for a gun under his jacket then stops. “Shut the fuck up, asshole. I’m not playing games with you. Put that tracker into that guy, got it. Don’t fuck around.” He turns around to leave, “Zem, let Mr. O’Brien know that I’m serious.” Before John can even turn to look at the other guy, the slugs John in the stomach, hard. John lets out an ooofh and doubles over. He sees the thug with his gun in his hand. “He means it, trust me,” then follows his boss out the door, watching over his shoulder as he leaves. 

After John recovers, John goes over to Phil and unties him.  “You okay? That guy is kind of overly dramatic.  Seen too many gangster movies.”  John then grabs his physicians backpack and heads back to his home/office. John is not sure if he will have enough supply to last but hopefully when he puts the tracker in the guy, this asshole honors his end of the deal.  As he rubs his stomach, he REALLY hopes honors his end of deal ‘cause he remembers how good of a soldier he truly was.  

A Drink at uNLuckys

On the way back to his place, his route takes him past Lucky’s, a favored watering hole of John's. He laughs to himself reading the sign where someone had painted the letters “uN" in front of the name, spelling uNLucky’s. It had been like that for several months. 

John then diverts into Lucky’s and looks around the bar.  He pull up his favorite stool, and orders a double whiskey.  He is hoping that a few of these will calm his nerves.

“Hey,  good to see ya, John,” the android bartender calls out in his cold, metallic voice. “Your usual?”

John smiles as he replies, “You know it, Mac.”

Mac sets John up with a cheap whiskey and slides it down the bar to him. He fills a small bowl with what John assumes are stale pretzels and puts them in front of him. “So, whaddya think about all them simulacra jumpers? There was another one this morning, somewhere in the Heights. I think that makes 5 now.” He motions over his shoulder to the large screen showing, among other things, a news-cast regarding a string of jumping “suicides” involving simulacra instead of Humans. The report stated that there had been 5 incidents in the last several days and that the authorities were attempting to determine if there was a connection between the sims and why they jumped. Each one had been damaged so thoroughly in the fall that a digital investigation of each unit was not turning up many clues. John finishes his drink and places the empty glass back on the bar. 

John shakes his glass to get another. “Simulacra jumpers, you say?”, John replies.  He continues, “I haven’t given it much thought. Of course, I never really studied the psychology of simulacrums.  But you say no clues, so the police believe it may be evidence of foul play.” John grabs a handful of stale pretzels as he ponders the puzzle. “What do you think Mac?  Any theories?”, John asks.

Mac refills his glass and says, “Who, me?  Oh, I don't know. Either they were emancipated and did it on their own accord or someone made them do it. But even that's tricky. Take me. I'm an android. I was built and programmed. I'm owned. A piece of property. The boss can tell me to do any number of things, all of which I'd do, no problem, but ya know what the owner can't make me do? Climb up to the top of a building and jump off. Self preservation coding. I got it. Most of us do. I mean yea, some of them military fighting units can be commanded it do some really dangerous stuff and all, but most anything with autonomous programming won't destroy itself like that. That just doesn't compute to me. Boss tells me to stand on the edge of a high roof and then pushes me himself, well that's another story I guess and then you'd have some newer, more efficient model in here making your drinks for you next time.” The android laughs his pre-programmed laugh, and for some reason John believes it to be sincere. 

As they talk, John sees a woman enter the bar. She smiles at John and Mac at the bar and heads to a booth in the back near the virtual pool table. She sits down with a man that was already sitting there. John does a double take at the booth because he didn't think there was anyone else in the place when he came in. He sucks down the remainder of his drink and chews on one of the half melted ice cubes. 

John thinks for a moment.  Something is sending that this situation is a little off.  He pops one of his stim tabs. Asks Mac for one of those synthohol beers (don’t really taste like beer but at least it doesn’t have the alcohol in it).  He casually moves to a booth where he can watch the room. He quietly removes his gun from it’s holdout holster and sets it on the seat next to him hidden from most eyes. He begins to watch to see what events are about to happen.

The two at the booth do not seem to notice John get closer, they appear to be focused on whatever they are talking about. Mac busies himself behind the bar since there are no other customers in the place. John sips his synthohol and tries to listen to what is going on between the two in the other booth, but he can’t hear them at all. After a few minutes, John starts to think that he was wrong and that nothing is it happens. The man, John now sees as an Asian man, with long hair and goatee, yells out, “What the hell!” and quickly jumps up from the table. “You bitch!” he screams at the woman and flips the table over on her. He turns and bolts toward the front of the bar, coming right past John. 

John grabs his gun as he stands up and attempts to bump the man as he rushes by.  As the man regains his balance, John looks him straight in eye, trying to assess the man.  John then proceeds over to the woman, with his gun in hand, to see if she is ok. 

The man climbs back to his feet as John stares him down. The man looks absolutely terrified as he scrambles around on the dirty tile floor of the bar. As he approaches the booth, the woman leaps from the bench, coming at John with a flying kick. “Who the fuck are you?” she demands. 

John frustrated, drops, and tersely states, “I’m John, and all I was doing was trying to see if your ok.  I guess you are!” As the woman flies over him, John starts to realize what a shit day this has become.

“Dammit,” the woman curses, still worried about the man on the ground with the gun. She whips out a pistol and fires three shots at the prone John.

John yells, “Stop shooting! I’m not going to harm you!” He rolls toward the bar away from the barrage of bullets.  Not sure if he got hit, he hopes to gain some cover behind the bar.

Mac starts waving a dish towel and yelling from behind the bar, “No discharging of firearms within the bar. Violators will be shot!” He leans over, getting something from beneath the bar. The woman curses and looks at the other man, climbing to his feet and moving toward the door.

John scrambles toward the bar and gentle puts his piece on the floor.  He then puts his hands up as he attempts to stand up. 

Mac produces a shotgun from under the bar as the woman and man both exit the building at about the same time, one from the front and one from the rear of the bar. “What just happened?” Mac asks John excitedly. “And just so you know, I don’t think I would have shot you, though my programming does direct me to fire upon violators of our rule. It seems that you were trying to help, so thank you.”

“Mac don’t worry. I would’ve tried my hardest not to violate that rule.  If I would, I just try to wound, at least something I can patch up later quickly.  What just happened? I don’t know. Deal gone sour? Maybe. Anyway, I better go home before my day gets any worse.  Put things on my tab?” John leaves through the front door pointing his feet toward home.

As John makes it outside, he hears several gunshots. Hearing gunshots in this area of Seattle is not that uncommon, but these were close by, around the corner somewhere. 

John debates following the direction that shots came from.  After a few minutes he realizes that he isn’t near his home but around where he thinks the shots came from.

Shot in the Empty Lot

John finds himself in an empty lot somewhere beyond Lucky’s. About 20 yards away, he sees a body on the ground, three kids are hunched over it, fighting over it's belongings. John cautiously approaches the group hovering the body. As soon as John gets within 10 yards, John shouts, “Hey guys, how it hanging?” As moves forward even slower, he pulls his gun out of his holster and tries to conceal next to his leg. As John approaches, the kids scatter, running off and yelling obscenities in his direction. He notes that they don’t run too far and all three remain nearby, watching. Quickly, John sees that the body belongs to the Asian man he saw in the bar recently. He has several gunshot wounds, on to his neck, that is bleeding profusely. He is alive, but probably only barely so. John holsters his weapon, and rushes over to the man. He puts med backpack down and reaches in to receive some bandages and antibiotic. He quickly does everything he can to stabilize this man and checks to see if he has any spinal issues. John believes this man is able to be transported. He yells at the youth, “Any one want some free stims, or money? I need help moving this guy back to my place.” One of the kids flips John off, then steps up a bit and calls out, “Yea, old man, I’ll help ya. 300 creds and some stims! Cash up front, and I get his jacket!” John sees a Credit Request icon from the kid pop up on his TAP display. It shows a request for 500 credits, not the 300 that the kid asked for. A moment later another one for 300 pops up from one of the other kids. Then a third one, from the last kid pops up, but for 3000 credits. John hears the kid curse then the request disappears and a new one pops up for 30 credits. The kid curses again and yells, “300! 300 muthafucker!” the Request icon disappears again then reappears for 3000. It disappears again then finally appears for 300. All the of the kids watch John as he considers their offers. John sighs. He hits his TAP and orders a ZoooM. John then declines all the offers. “Sorry guys, you all are way TOO expensive.”, he yells. He dons his backpack, grabs the man in an attempt to do a fireman’s carry. John gets the balance wrong but is able to semi-gently lower the man down but ends losing his balance falls over on him. He quickly checks the wounds to make sure everything is ok and attempts again. On John’s second attempt, he knew he didn’t quite get the hand placement right. He readjusts and gets the man off the ground to finally make his way to his rendezvous point. On his way, John realizes he hasn’t done this in years and must be a little rusty. Maybe he can talk Kirby or Angela into being his practice dummies for this maneuver. The kids curse and continue to flip John off as he drags the wounded man away. They break out in raucous laughter at one point when John drops the man and nearly falls himself. Finally, John makes it to the corner and the ride is there waiting on him. The driver leans out the window. “Aww, shit, is that dude bleeding out? I don't’ want no blood all over my ride, man! Come on! You look like a big, strong dude, can’tcha carry him? South ain’t that far. Aww, dude, he is bleeding. It’s all over you! You’re not getting into my ride like that!” he proclaims loudly. As John looks at the back seat of the used Nissan, he sees the remains of what appears many young people's mispent adventures. He looks at the driver, and says sarcastically, “You are correct. Blood in your car would ruin it’s pristine and sanitary nature.” John sends the driver on. He deeply sighs as he contemplates the journey ahead. In his army days, he remembers carrying wounded comrades miles to aid stations but he was much younger and much better shape. He looks at the wounded man and says, “You better be worth this.” The Asian man groans, as John starts to put one foot in front of the other to head home.

Second Mob Of The Day

John starts the walk home, carrying this unconscious and wounded Asian man. He is much heavier than he looks and John assumes he has some cybernetic upgrades somewhere in there. About two blocks into his trek, John hears tires squeal loudly around a corner. He turns and sees a blacked out luxury car skid around the corner. Three motorcycles with black suited riders follow the car. Finally, a highly modified JUMP bike comes flying over the rest, landing on the street just past where John is. The car screeches to a stop and the JUMP bike spins and stops at the far end of the street. The motorcycles rev their engines and zoom up and down the street, doing wheelies and burning out left and right. Two of the riders wave machine pistols and the third rider brandishes a wickedly curved katana. John disgustedly sighs and states, “Fuck this.” He lowers the man’s body gently to the ground and casually draws his gun from it’s holster. He desperately tries to hide the exposed gun against his leg as he positions himself between the car and the wounded man. John knows that if there is a fight he on the losing end of the stick but the way his day has been going he doesn’t give a fuck. Maybe this is the day he finally gets back with his unit. Three Asian men in suits get out of the dark car while the bike riders continue to zoom back and forth down the street. The three men from the car all raise assault rifles, pointing them at John. The driver of the car calls out for him to drop the gun and step away from the man’s body. John is pretty sure this must be the Yakuza. “Did you do this to Kanzo?” he shouts out to John. John gently puts his gun down on the ground and takes two side steps away from Kanzo. He shouts back, “NO! I found him likes this and was taking him back to my surgical suite to get back to a working condition. I’m a street doc! I’m John O’Brien!” Still not to sure about the trigger fingers on the hired muscle, John takes two more steps to the side. The Asian mobster takes a step forward and lowers his weapon. He reaches up and pulls the dark sunglasses from his face and cocks his head, looking more closely at John. “You’re a doctor? Surgeon? Can you help him?” he calls out. John nods, affirmative. The man calls out to his companions in Chinese or Japanese or some other language that John doesn’t understand. Several of the men move forward and pick up the injured man, Kenzo, and take him to the car. The man that spoke to John beckons him over, “Come on. We go to your place. You fix him up. You can get your gun. I trust you.” John smiles a little as picks up his gun and puts in its holster. He heads toward the car. He gets to the luxury sedan and says, “I can fix him and I will keep alive on the ride over there.” He gives the driver his address and concentrates on keeping his patient stable on the bumpy ride home. The car, escorted by the bikes, makes is way through traffic to John's place. The parking lot of Lo Pan’s Den - Fine Pan Asian Fusion and Gaming Center is beginning to get crowded. The large HyperObject that is the wizard Lo Pan glides around the lot, just over the tops of the tallest vehicles. He waves and beckons to passing vehicles and people, occasionally throwing a pair of flaming dice that always comes up snake-eyes. As the Yakuza vehicle enters the lot, John notices the HR Lo Pan turn and look in their direction. The smiling face turns sour and the giant wizard shakes his head and holds out his hand as if to say “no.” A notification pops up on John's TAP reminding him that residents of the building are not allowed to park in the restaurant lot even if they are coming in as patrons but instead must use the off-street or alley parking in the back. John signals to park around back. He says to the mob boss, “It has better access to my surgical suite plus you won’t have the hassle of your limo being towed away.” The mob boss signals to driver to go ahead and park around back. John says to the muscle as they haul Kinzo out of the back, “It is the 3rd floor, the apartment all the way at the end of the hallway. Hey, gently. He still isn’t out of the woods yet” He shows them where to place their hands to get a more secure grip. The group takes the elevator up to the 3rd floor. The hallway is dimly lit. John reaches up and touches his TAP and a door unlocks at the end of the hallway. “In there guys,” John states and gestures toward a well lit surgical suite. He puts his pack down in his apartment. He returns to the suite and begins to work on Kanzo. It takes several hours, but John is able to stabilize the seriously wounded man. If it had been much longer before they got here, it would have been too late, John thinks. It’s a good thing that the Yakuza showed up when it did. John then wondered if he would ever think that specific thought again. Then he thought about having another drink, all this surgery was really wearing him down. Normally his clinic was filled with folks with broken bones, small contusions, coughing, STDs, cyber rejection, things like that. Not serious gunshot wounds and all this mafia business. He finishes up with the Yakuza and the gangster in the suit pays him well. “You don't know us, right?” he says as they help Kanzo to his feet and leave. John is quite sure Kanzo recognizes him from Lucky's and gives him a weak sneer before leaving. John thinks he really needs to find another way to make money. John also thinks he needs another drink. He spies a bottle of whiskey on a nearby shelf then remembers he has a couple of free drink credits downstairs at Lo Pan’s. John heads down to Lo Pan’s. He sees his favorite waitress here, Lucy. He attracts her attention and she signals which is her section. He finds a quiet booth in her section and starts checking the news on his TAP. At first it seems the same old crap. Some congressman making a bad decision on something that is being opposed by another congressman from the other side. He sees a vid on how crime is up in Seattle. John thinks to himself, “No, shit.” Then a blog on simulacra jumpers catches his eye. He just started getting into the blogger’s theories when Lucy brings his Scotch. He gives her a free drink credit, and smiles. She doesn’t say much but she always seems to make him smile. He then finds his way over to the subreddit on medical procedures. He posts a couple of questions. Then finishes his drink. Lucy anticipated him and had another Scotch as soon as he finished the first one. He happily gave the other free drink credit plus a few credits extra as a tip.

Fresh Wounds

As John sips his drink, thinking about the events of the day, a call pops up on his TAP through one of the call routers he uses for the clinic. The OOL ID says Grim. John doesn't know anyone named Grim and he wishes he didn't have to use these call routers because since they give him some anonymity for the clinic, it likewise allows callers to use easily spoofed IDs as well. The life of a street doc, he muses. Saving lives and breaking the law. The call continues to flash in his peripheral. He takes another sip of his drink. John sighs heavily, and says “Hello” to answer his TAP call. As the image starts to appear, he states “Watcha need?” John is met with a young, raspy voice speaking quite frantically, “Aww, man. Hey, you the doc? I need a doc! I got three people here. Bee's been shot, the other two are banged up. Can you help? We're in the parking lot of some place called Lo Pan's. Karh tried to stop the bleeding but, um, I'm thinking it didn't work. There's a lot of blood here. Karh went in to look for you but this didn't really seem to be the right place.” The voice pauses for a moment, breathing heavily and John thinks he can get a few words in. John looks at his drink, and sighs heavily into the TAP, “Ok, I will be right out.” He grabs his backpack as he stands up. He scans the bar to see if anyone unusual in the place. He thinks he sees someone by the door, they don’t look like they looking for anyone just drinking. Realizing his TAP line is still open, John asks, “What does Karh look like?” “Ha, like a punk-ass.. um, sorry. I mean he looks like a guy. Bout 20, dark hair. Frowns a lot. Big but eyes,” the voice on the line chuckles again briefly then continues. “Not quite 6 foot, wearing a dark hoodie. I think he was wearing it anyway. Hold on,” the voice asks. After a moment, John gets an image over his TAP. “There, that's him.” Now with a picture to work with, John rescans the room as he makes his way to the door. Almost immediately he sees the fellow, Karh, talking to one of the Lo Pan waiters near the entrance. John makes his way across the crowded bar toward Karh. Upon his arrival, he leans in and says, “Hey Karh, I think you are looking for me. Now, let’s go to your friend before he dies.” The young man looks at John with a bit of a shocked look on his face. John now sees that the front of Karh’s clothes are covered with blood. Karh shakes his head and mutters, “Yea. Parking lot,” and turns and heads back out of the building. He leads John to an old model Tesla. Very old model, John thinks, totally an antique. He notices that the side of the car has some recent damage and several people can be seen inside the vehicle. Karh approaches it and waves his hand, “I got the doc,” he says. John sees an older man slumped over in the front seat and then a young, dark haired man climbs out of the back seat, he is covered in blood. John also notes that he has a sheathed katana in his hand. Two more people, a man and a woman are in the back seat as well. They both appear to be injured. “I’m Grim,” the dark haired man says, “We just talked.” John feels this man quickly sizing him up. He then turns and does a 360 scan of the area, clearly checking it out for danger zones. John thinks this kid, he can’t be more than 20 or so, has had some sort of training, military or private sector security, at least. He looks inexperienced but seems to have a good eye for things. “Where do you want them?” he asks John as he lights up a cigarette. John assesses the situation and states, “Do you think it would be safe to move them outside the car?” He then looks at the man in the front seat and begins to move him onto the tarmac of the parking lot. Karh shrugs and Grim responds, “I dunno. You're the doc right? Bee, in the back. She was shot. Dickhead and the old man were both smashed by a door and run over by a, umm, well, by a rhino. A hybrid, ya know?” John gets the man in the front seat carefully to the ground. As he does a triage of the patients, he states, “You know a little help moving the others would be helpful.” Grim and Karh help John with the injured bodies. As they do so, several people passing in the parking lot shoot glances at what is going on. Some smart ass shouts out, “Let ‘em bleed! Blood in the gutters!” Grim shouts back and flips the bird. Once again, the giant HR Lo Pan ambles over to where they are. It leans over and shakes its head and waves a finger in John’s direction. Another TAP message comes in, this time a direct message from the manager of Lo Pan’s, an older guy named Harko. “Second time tonight, O’Brien. Come on, get it out of the parking lot. You know the rules. I gotta report it to the owner this time.” The giant Lo Pan turns and stands directly over where John and the others are looking over the patients. John cusses as he realizes yet again that he is not to be performing business in the parking lot of his landlord’s business. The owner of Lo Pan allows him to use his apartment for his practice as long as he keeps it out of public view. John considers that Lo Pan’s could probably be shut down, or worse, if the wrong people found out he was running a clinic out of the building. A quick assessment show that the girl, Bee, is in the worst condition. She is suffering from a gunshot wound that has been horribly bandaged. The other two appear to have suffered from some blunt force trauma and may or may not be suffering from concussions, not that that isn’t dangerous, but they’re not bleeding out in the parking lot of a shitty casino and restaurant. Karh glances up as Lo Pan settles in above them then turns to John and says, “Might be best to get them off the street ya know? We are drawing a bit more attention here than either of us are looking for. Where should we go?” John snaps at Karh, “Yes, I know. I live here.” He quickly stabilizes Bee’s gunshot wound. When John finishes he looks at Grim, and says, “Dark One, she should be stable enough to move. Grab her. “ Pointing at Karh, he says, “You and me help the others.” John helps the closest one to him up and escorts them to a back alley behind Lo Pan’s. The alley is dark, and full of garbage. John spies a few of his recent patients on his way to the door. He thinks, “I guess they’ll be back.” When he opens the backdoor, there is a hallway to a rickety, unclean elevator. He looks at the group and states, “We are going to the elevator. It smells like stale piss but hey, it is better than the stairs.” When the creaking elevator gets to the third floor, the doors open to make-shift surgical suite. John motions toward a surgical table and says, “Put the girl there.” He motions his patient to a chair nearby and turns to Bee. He grabs a mask and instruments. He stops suddenly and looks at Karh, “You are going to be my nurse. Not hard. Just hand things to me when I ask. Oh, here is a mask. Put it on.” When he has everything in place he begins.

Cast of Characters: 

Doc John O'Brien: a washed out combat medic turned street doc; played by Dan E

and Jason GURPS as the GM

G:InterfaceZero 0.02

#GURPS: Interface Zero

version 0.02
August 18, 2018 - January 16, 2019

Achievement Unlocked

Friday, August 4th, 2090

For the Movement

Kobato’s external sensors indicate that the temperature outside today is hot by typical standards and her optical feed backs this up. The people of Tacoma moving and working and living around her are sweaty as look fatigued. Many of the locals wear respirators or have bandanas or fabric of some kind over their faces to block out the “Tacoma Aroma,” as they call it. Kobato’s olfactory suite detects the plethora of foreign particulates in the air and knows that many of them are not beneficial or desirable to biological life forms, especially Humans.

Currently, Kobato is making her way toward the old port district to drop off a bundle of propaganda material to a group planning to hold a rally and protest for Synth Rights at Obelisk Computer Systems in downtown Seattle next week. The company just made a deal with some Brazilian biotech corp to code some wet chips for a new model of Simulacrum. This new tech is supposed to made it harder for the Sims to break from their programming enslavement. Utterly barbaric and disgusting. And in Cascadia, where the actual President is a Synth.

Kobato jumps on the Rail, the new and shiny monorail system that is supposed to be bringing Tacoma back to its glory days. From its elevated position, she can see the black smoke from the perpetually burning fires in Puyallup and the acrid, yellow smoke coming from the numerous stacks here at the base of the Sound.

Her car is empty except for a little, old Russian woman with a cart full of groceries and a pair of tweakers huddled at the far end, near the doorway to the next car. As Kobato watches the dirty cityscape of Tacoma speed by the doors at from of the car open and 3 gangers stroll in, being loud and vulgar. They look at Kobato and one of them makes a disgusting sexual gesture with his fingers and tongue before they turn their attention to the like old lady.

“Hey babushka, what ya got in the cart? Anything good for the Blazers today?” the leader shouts as he grabs the handle of the cart from her. She yelps and curses him in Russian. Though she does not recognize the name or their HyperTags, she does notice that each of the gangers has a Havoc Stick hanging from their belt. 

Seeing what is clearly a robbery, or what others might call a “shakedown” in progress. Kobato moves from where she was sitting to face the three street toughs. Her voice a modulated rainbow of tones, her head tilted to one side tauntingly she declares “Those groceries are not your possessions. Return them to their rightful owner or there will be… consequences.” She stands with her hands on her hips, one hip cocked saucily to the left - a remnant of her old programming perhaps.

One of the thugs turns and looks at her, and chuckles and dismisses her rudely, “Mind your own business, bitch.” He turns back to harassing the old woman.

Closing the distance with preternatural speed, Kobato interposes herself between the gangers and the old woman, pushing her shopping cart away from them. As she does, she speaks, as if reciting from a Wikipedia article. “Bitch, female dog. When the alpha female of the pack sees a member of her pack being threatened, she becomes aggressive and unpredictable.” She looks up at the men, her finely machined face inscruitible. “Also used colloquially, as in ‘Bring it, bitch’.”
“Hey, what?” The tall ganger that appears to be the leader steps back and reaches for his Havoc Stick, drawing the electrified club and flicking it on in one easy motion. The other two thugs each take a step back, giving the other one room. “I’ll bring it, bitch. Sorry you got your circuits in a cross, but whatever. I’ll straighten them out!

“Are you entirely certain you have considered the repercussions of your actions?” she asks, solicitously as she draws her primary katana from the sheath on her back. “I would advise you to abandon this course of action now, though I fear that the loss of face may be too great if you do so. Your status within your gang will surely suffer if you back down to a tiny girl. But perhaps that is still a safer bet than being beaten by one.”

She realizes that her words, however truthful, are intended to goad the thug into precipitous actions. An odd sensation passes through her as she considers that she wants him to stand his ground. Desire is still a foreign feeling. It doesn’t feel like it is designed to fit into her digital circuitry, and yet she feels it. “Bring it indeed. Those that prey on the weak deserve no remorse, be they ganger or corp drone.”

The ganger snarls at Kobato and lunges forward, swinging his softly buzzing Havoc Stick at her. His overly aggressive strike puts attack on target but Kobato sees that it makes him more open to a counter strike. If she can intercept the wrapping first, that is.

Seeking to end things quickly, Kobato leaned hard away from the blow and swung for the punk’s forearm. Sufficient force will sever the ulna and likely the radius, disarming the target and eliminating that threat vector. But the motions worked counter to one another and the swing met nothing but air. Recalculating, adjusting compensators. May be necessary to accept some blows to facilitate incapacitation of the target.

One of the other punks “oohs” as his friend misses and is nearly relieved of an arm, “Looks like the bitch has some bite, Nail. You got this, right?” he says and laughs. Nail, the thug currently locked in battle with Kobato, growls, “Screw you, man. I’m gonna kick your ass next!” he says as he makes an obvious swing at Kotato, this time, angling for her head! The stunner goes wide, narrowly missing her shoulder on the way down. The other two gangers laugh as their friend misses again.

Inbound vector indicates that the strike is wide. Assailant is clearly untrained and unstable. Avoid repeated attempts at the same attack to prevent predictability. Kobato processes the situation quickly and decides to attempt a more decisive blow. Her katana lashes out, attempting to separate his head from his body.

The ganger punk leaps back in surprise as Kobato’s blade whistles toward his throat, narrowly avoiding the strike. “Whoa, there, babe, gettin’ kinda nasty, aren’t ya?” He smiles cruelly and lunges forward again, this time going for Kobato’s sword hand. Kobato attempts to acrobatically dodge but the Havoc Stick finds its target anyway, striking hard against her closed fist. She feels the sharp electrical surge as the weapon releases its stored charge. Kobato feels her circuits completely overloaded and then her sensors go dead.

When her visual sensors come back online, Kobato sees that she is surrounded by several Humans and one Canine Hybrid. The Hybrid is wearing the uniform of a Transit Monitor. He is speaking, but Kobato cannot hear him. She runs a systems diagnostic and finds that her audio sensor has suffered some minor damage. As she sits up, those around her all lean in close, all seeming to talk at once. She sees the little Russian woman sitting nearby, her grocery cart mostly intact still. She smiles at Kobato and says something, but Kobato still can’t hear. She quickly spies the “Help Box” Hyper Object located on the TransMon’s belt. 

Looking around, Kobato does not see her sword, but she feels that she still has her pistol tucked up under her jacket.

Still out of sorts, Kobato hits the link to the Help Box, hoping she can at least open a line of communication.

>>SeaTacTrans. I see that you are accessing from the #3429 northbound. Agent Bowers is on site. How can I help you that he cannot?<< the query comes through. The agent looks at you funny then touches his belt where the Help Box is located.

>>Please advise Agent Bowers that my audio circuits have been damaged and I am unable to communicate with him.<< Kobato sends back.

The Transit Monitor smiles and nods in Kobato’s direction. He begins speaking to her and his words come through as a text display in her field of vision. >>I’m Agent Bowers, you were assaulted by some Rail Blazers while assisting this woman here, is that correct?<<

>>Correct, Agent Bowers. It didn’t need to come to blows, but they were unwilling to accept no for an answer.<< Surely he needn’t know about her taunts or her unsettling desire that they refuse to see reason.

>>Thank you for your assistance. The woman, Mrs. Smekov, says you protected her from three of them. They stunned you but ran when these other passengers chased them off. You seem to have been damaged in the incident. If you want to make a report, you may do so within the next 24 hours. Do you require any further assistance?<< Bowers smiles and extends a hand to help her to her feet.

Kobato takes it and stands, still a little unsteady. >>Unless you are clever with an electronics kit, I don’t think there’s much more you can do. Unless you know where the Rail Blazers make their home?<<

Agent Bowers looks at her and shakes his head, frowning a bit, his canines showing. >>Not sure why you would want to go looking for more trouble with them Rail Blazers. Usually they just scare some folks, sometimes shake ‘em down for a few credits or whatever it is they’re carrying. Pretty harmless if you just let ‘em go their own way. As far as where they are, hard to say, you can always find one or two at the smaller terminals, though I’ve heard that they congregate a lot out past Fife Heights, up past Old New Tacoma, but that’s something I don’t recommend, ma’am. Thank you again for your assistance.<< He nods and ends the Help Box connection. A flashing Incident Report link floats in the corner of Kobato’s view then minimizes in her to-do list. The other passengers nod and pat Kobato on the shoulder, she believes they are mouthing congratulations and thanks to her, though one of them gives her only odd looks and doesn’t say anything or get very close. Old Mrs. Smekov smiles and pats the seat next to her. She offers Kobato an apple from her grocery bag then frowns and takes it back when she realizes the folly of her offering.

Pausing only to return to her original seat to grab her bag with the pro-Synth propo materials, she takes the offered seat. Using her internal monitors to try to avoid shouting, she thanks Mrs. Smekov in Russian for the offered apple anyway and takes out her tool kit. “I hope this won’t be disturbing to you, if I attempt to repair the damage I sustained?” she asks, keeping her voice light and melodic, as she knows how disturbing it can be to the uninitiated.

The old woman nods at Kobato with wide eyes, eager to see an Android do self repairs. Kobato sees that she has about 20 minutes until her stop, more than enough time to attempt the repairs, but she is not sure it is enough time for HER to complete them.

Over the course of the trip, Kobato manages to get the access cover to her damaged hand open and to assess what was wrong there. A few connections were beyond salvaging with her simple toolkit supplies, but she managed to get most of the insulation and fiber optics cleaned up and her hand feeling more like it was fully functional. She took the time to make sure Mrs. Smekov could get a look at what’s going on inside there. “See, no blood or gore at all. And no pain. That is one benefit we definitely have. This… I guess you would say that it ‘feels funny’ to have a probe inside there, checking the connections.” Whenever Mrs. Smekov tries to talk to her, she simply smiles and nods.

Given the time limitations and the limitations of the tools at hand, that’s all she manages to do before the train pulls into her station. She quickly packs up her gear and grabs her pack. She waves to her new friend and those that were there when she was roused by the transit cop before she steps out onto the platform and begins the trek to the Synth Rights office.

Again Kobato notices one of the Humans that had been there when she came back online. He is the one that had not been very congratulatory after the fight. Kobato noticed that he kept looking at her, but would always look away if she turned toward him. He gets off the Rail at the same station. Kobato knows that her destination is only a few blocks away, but is not very familiar with this area of Tacoma. The suspicious man follows her down the stairs then passes her and crosses the street. He enters “World of Weed,” a store that apparently sells all forms of marijuana products. A thick, green cloud wafts out of the door as he enters. 

Her, destination, the Emerald Queen, or what is left of it anyway, is two blocks up and two blocks over. The streets are busy this time of day. Numerous vehicles move haphazardly up and down Portland Avenue. Kobato identifies at least 100 beings within her visual scope, each of them seemingly going about their daily business. She imagines it is quite noisy here, and almost relishes the silence brought on by her damaged audio sensors. Her HR display is flooded by advertisement and HyperObjects and she quickly and effortlessly brushes most of them away.

Curious, and a little more cautious after our latest adventure in being too cocky, Kobato throws an HR flag on the interested fellow before he disappears into the dispensary and intends to keep an eye out for him again in case there’s anything more than a coincidence in their traveling to the same stop.

She heads to the Emerald Queen but a strange sensation makes her walk past and find a place to observe from cover for a moment. Is that what non-synthetics refer to as “a bad feeling” she wonders to herself?

This area isn't as crowded as where she got off the transit though there are some people and vehicles moving about. Several drones zoom through the polluted sky, some of them displaying ads and others on unknown missions.

The Emerald Queen is a dilapidated, half-sunken boat styled in a historic fashion that was part of a casino and gaming complex that sustained great damage in recent years. Most of the rest of the complex was destroyed but the floating casino managed to avoid the majority of the damage.

The ship is now being used as the “headquarters” of a small activist collective that organizes and leads lots of small, mainly peaceful demonstrations and protests. Their methods are not effective enough to Kobato’s processing but she is happy to help out with the propaganda. More voices are always needed.

After verifying that nothing untoward is going to happen, Kobato moves back to the dilapidated ship and joins her erstwhile comrades. She brings in the propo pamphlets and, after explaining her audio situation asks about possible sources for parts to get it repaired.

The leader of the collective, a Human by the name of Heto, thanks Kobato and sends her info on the nearest CyberShack, only about a mile away. Kobato nods in thanks and starts to leave but Heto motions her back. He picks up a handheld display and types a quick message on it then shows it to Kobato. It reads: Close the door. I have something important to tell you. Kobato gives him a look and a nod then closes the flimsy door.

He nods his thanks then sticks on a subvocal mic and composes a quick text message to her with some serious encryption. He types the key onto the handheld display and shows her, carefully shielding the display with his hand. In a moment, she gets the message. He quickly clears the decryption key from the display.

>>Sorry for the secrecy, but this is serious. I know you feel a little more strongly about this stuff than us. You interested in striking a real blow to the man? Take a step toward really changing the system?<<

A Job

He sits back at his desk, which isn't much more than a shelf with a bunch of unorganized papers, fast food wrappers, empty energy drink cans and lots of little waxy paper strips that are no doubt the backs of stim stickers. Kobato nods to him to continue and he composes another message to her.

>>So I got this lead, ok I swiped some info while hacking recently on some of the networks of our target companies. Was trying to sell a little paydata and found a really eager buyer. It's where I got the credits to pay you the other day, actually. So anyway, this buyer wants more of this stuff. He even told me where to get it, but I don’t have the skills or, well, the balls, to do it. It’s a data heist from ZRTech, but it’s gotta be an onsite grab, closed system. He says that the data could be huge for the movement. Something about some old research data that shows that they knew all along that the type of programming that runs Synths leads to sentience and self-awareness but they’ve been suppressing it the whole time! What do you think? You in?<<

Kobato considers the proposed operation. >>I can provide some of the muscle and on-site presence, but I will need to engage the skills of a hacker, and probably some additional offensive assets. I have some contacts, but without payment for the data it will be difficult to convince those who are less dedicated to the movement. Is your client willing to put a price-tag on this data?<<

Heto holds up one finger as if to say ‘hold on, one second’ and Kobato watches him manipulate something in HR. He smiles for a second and she can see him speaking. He then does some hand manipulation of an unseen HR ‘screen’ and pushes it over to Kobato. She accepts the screen and sees an image of a male Simulacra. The visage is dark-skinned, African. He nods at Kobato and smiles, then text appears on the screen. >>Heto says your audio sensor is out. He also tells me you are passionate about Synth Rights and are interested in a run. Can you put a team together? The run must be made tomorrow at just after 9am. There is a diversion in place to divert attention and the security detail to the first floor lobby at that time. I can provide you access to the building for three of you. You will have to break the network, retrieve the data and get out. I will pay 6000 for the job, 1000 up front if you are interested.<<

Information on the target appears in an attached screen, location, time, file batch names. A flashing green money bag with 1000 on its front floats above two glowing buttons: >>YES / NO<<.


The face on the other end nods and Kobato receives a packet of information on the target. ZRTech. A small archive and data retrieval company. Based out of Chicago, ZRTech has smaller offices in numerous cities, including Seattle. The building is a 5 story, free standing building near Sea-Tac. The floor plans of the building are fairly standard. First floor has lobby, public relations office, loading dock, small warehouse, security center, conference and some other shared space. Second and third floors contain office space. Fourth floor has a computer lab, mechanical room, network security and some dedicated data storage repositories. The fifth floor is all data storage. The data storage bank that must be accessed is on the 5th floor. It is not connected to any of the interior networks and must be accessed directly. It’s physical location may be monitored by an interior security network though. The cover story for getting three people in is a delivery and installation of some new peripherals for the climate control system in the mechanical room on the 4th floor. There will undoubtedly be video surveillance and possibly a member of security or at least maintenance assigned to oversee the task. The address to pick up a truck and the parts to be installed is given with instructions to meet at 6am. A portable data safe will be provided to copy and store the files as well as uniforms, ID cards and temporary TAP masks. The scheduled arrival time at ZRTech is at 8:30am. The scheduled distraction is to happen at 9am. Kobato looks over the plans and feels that everything needed is there. The client includes an OOL to contact when the data is off-site and secure. With that, the connection is ended. Heto looks at Kobato and smiles an uneasy grin. “Yea, that kind of stuff is way over my access level, I wish. Good luck,” he tells her.

ZRTech

She leaves the Emerald Queen and heads toward the CyberShack to get her audio input fixed, as well as the other damage she sustained. As she walks, she begins to think about who she can get to make this run with her. No names immediately stand out on a quick hacker query of her databases. She will have to reach out to one of her contacts to see if they can find someone on such short notice.

Making her way to the CyberShack, Kobato puts in a text call to Moxie, hoping that the nature of the work will have some allure for the diminutive rodent boy.

Moxie complains that it is a little short notice to put a crew together, especially one requiring a hacker, but he says he will do his best to find someone. He suggests that maybe having a backup might not be the worst idea. He promises to send word back as soon as he figures something out.

Finally, she makes it to the nearest CyberShack and prices out getting the damage repaired from the brawl on the transit. The kid behind the counter estimates about 600 credits to make the repairs once the tech is available, which should be in a few minutes.

Waiting for the repair technician to be available, Kobato puts another call out to her erstwhile boss and sometimes friend back at the nightclub. >>Onto something, could use a little help. Might need a hacker for a scratch job, and any information you have on ZRTech.<< At the same time, she fires up an agent to do an indirect search for information on the company.

Kobato’s search for the company comes back with pretty much the same information she already got. ZRTech is a data archival company based out of Chicago. They have business ties to several of the larger megacorps and many of the smaller ones. The field of data retrieval and archival storage is a fairly competitive field and there are many other companies that provide similar services for similar prices. There is nothing in the public Deep regarding ZRTech having the type of data that is the focus of this job, and there is nothing out there to even suggest that such information has been unearthed recently, though if it were public, Kobato imagines that would be huge international news already. Finally, the CyberShack tech is available and Kobato heads into the service bay to have her repairs made.

Kobato undergoes the process stoically. No pain involved in her own repairs, unlike so many of her fleshly acquaintances. She recalls the processes she’s already undergone to augment her strength and reflexes. The sensations were nevertheless awkward and unsettling. If one was truly the sum of one’s parts, did it change a person when they added new parts and replaced older ones? Did humans go through this kind of dysphoria when they had cybernetic enhancements done, she wondered?

Satisfied that ZRTech was a legitimate organization and not something simply set up overnight or as a front for what might be a trap, she tests out the newly repaired components and thanks the technician before leaving the ‘Shack. Now she only had to be patient and wait for her contacts to find her some new allies. Patient she could be - her people were good at being patient.

The afternoon streets of Old New Tacoma are not too busy, but there are plenty of people around. Vehicle traffic is picking up as well as it approaches rush hour. Drones of all sizes fill the air above her head. Sirens can be heard in the distance, either police or private security forces, she imagines. A blast of automatic weapons fire pierces the scene. Everyone tenses and stops for a moment, most people reaching for a sidearm, but no return fire is heard and soon everyone is back about their business.

Seeking Retribution

Now that things are starting to get crowded, Kobato does a little searching on the Rail Blazers, as she heads to her doss to pick up her other katana before paying the gangers a visit.

Hoping to keep this sword in her possession, Kobato boards the Rail again, heading north toward Fife Heights and greater Seattle beyond. The Sprawl gets rougher and dirtier the farther north she goes. Things start to clean up around the airport, located halfway between Tacoma and Seattle. She notices that there are not a lot of stops in this are, and when there are, not many people get on and fewer still get off.

Kobato calculates which stop would be the optimal one to find her quarry and quickly disembarks when the Rail arrives. No one else gets off or on at the Milton/375th Street Station and before she even makes it down the steps to the street she spies a couple of Rail Blazers defacing a support pillar. They are about 7 yards away, over a rail and across some uneven terrain under the platform above. They are definitely not the ones she was involved with earlier but their HyperTags identified them as Rail Blazers nonetheless.

Finding a place to prepare, Kobato draws her remaining katana and holds it rigidly against her leg, hoping to keep casual observers from seeing that she is in fact carrying anything, and moved generally toward the Blazers, making no eye contact and keeping her face impassive - the way some of her friends have confided “creeps them out.” Gauging the distance, she rapidly closes the distance between them and pounces on the one most distracted by his juvenile delinquency.

Kobato silently leaps the rail and navigates the rough rocky terrain near the pillar. As she closes one of the punks turns and gasps, quickly taking a step away from the tiny, charging woman, getting close to the recently spray painted pillar. The other ganger shouts, “muthafucker!” as he wheels around and throws his paint can at Kobato's face. His desperate attack goes wide and sails over to the walkway nearby. Kobato is pretty sure she sees the first punk reaching for something, most likely a weapon of some sort, on his belt.

Taking no chances this time, Kobato lunges at the off-balance ganger closest to her, the razor tip of her katana aimed at his chest.

The blade slides easily into the surprised youth and she feels the tip hit the support pillar behind him. She quickly retracts her weapon as he lets out a gasping sigh and slumps to the rocky ground clutching the bleeding wound. The other ganger, a long, black-bladed knife in his hand turns and runs down the rocky slope, away from Kobato as fast as he can run.

Locking onto the fleeing ganger, Kobato runs down the hill after him, taking care not to fall, unwilling to allow any mistakes to befall her this time.

Kobato pursues her prey down the rocky hill, careful not to fall. The Rail Blazer, however, does not show the same caution and just as he reaches the bottom of the hill, his legs, moving faster than his body, slide out from under him. The ganger skids and rolls on the dirty pavement as Kobato steps up.

Placing the tip of her bloodied sword against the fallen ganger she addresses him sharply. “Stay down, or you’ll join your brother in a swift death.”

“Yea, yea, sure. I'm down. I ain't fucking moving! Come on, what's the feed? Wha'd ya want?” he pleads.

“Nail. He has something of mine. You will tell me where to find him.” Her android voice, designed to be mellifluous and melodic, natural self-harmonic, is cold and brooks no challenge.

“Huh, what? Nail? Oww, shit. I dunno where he’s at, but I can call him for you. I’ll call him and find out, alright? Come on!” The ganger squirms on the dirty ground beneath Kobato’s blade. He cranes his neck around to try to get a look at better look at her. He relaxes a bit and smiles uneasily, “Hey, settle down honey. I’m sure we can work this out, right?”

Kobato applies the tip of her boot to the gang banger’s head. “There will be no working this out. All I need is to know where he is. Locate him and you live.” It felt unusual to omit that he would live in an unconscious state, so as not to betray her further, but if Kobato had learned anything in her time alone it was that sometimes the whole truth was more trouble than it was worth.

“Yea, ok ok, I’ll call him. Hold on,” He shifts his weight a bit and gets that blank stare when Humans are accessing their TAP. He mumbles, “call Nail,” under his breath. He waits a moment, then smiles weakly. “Hey, yo, Nail. What’s up? Where you at?” He pauses for a moment then continues, “Yea, naw, I was just wondering. I’ll catch up with you later, alright? Cool. Blaze on!”

The prone man turns back to Kobato. “He’s heading back home now. Mud Lake. At the abandoned park. Only about a mile from here. Just up the Rail. Next stop.” He looks up with scared, sad eyes.

Seeing his mental state so clearly on his face, Kobato moves the tip of her sword from his chest. “Why do you do this? Why do you associate with people who hurt others for their own gain? What hold does this Nail have over you?”

The youth on the ground kinda smirks and sneers at the same time, “What Nail? He ain’t got nothin’ over me, he’s my boy and all, but whatever. You gotta find a crew and stick with ‘em. They have your back. But seriously, come on, I told you what you wanted to know, lemmie go, will ya? I ain’t got no feedback with you, an I never did nothin’ to get your wires crossed, lemmie get the hell outta here and I’ll never see you again, cool?”

“That is unfortunate. I might have been able to bring you on to a team that uses their strengths make things better, not just for their own gain,” she says.

He almost laughs at her when she says this. “What? Seriously? Make things better. You gotta be outta your mind, or circuit or whatever it is you have up there. Nothin’s gettin’ better. Not for you, not for me, not unless I make it better. What’re ya? One of them optimists or something?” He shakes his head slowly in disbelief.

“Ah, a nihilist. I should have known.” Kobato aims a kick to the side of the young man’s head, hoping to render him unconscious but not dead.

The haughty Rail Blazer tries to turn away but catches the full force of Kobato’s foot. A strained “ooof” escapes his lips before he crashes face first into the ground. She nudges him with her foot. He does not move. Kobato does a quick pat down of her downed foe and finds a little baggie with some pills and patches in it, a collapsible baton and a knife sheath. The knife he drew before running down the hill is not on him anymore. He's wearing a beat up combat jacket and boots with nasty spikes on the toes as well but neither are Kobato's size.

Pocketing the drugs - they might be useful to a teammate - Kobato leaves the unconscious ganger behind and heads back to the train to make her way to Mud Lake.

Kobato has to wait quite a few minutes before a local train stops at the station, though several express trains pass her by as they zoom along their way toward Seattle proper. No one else waits at this terminal. She looks around and sees quite a bit of graffiti and vandalism, mostly of the Rail Blazers variety, though there is quite a bit of additional random artwork as well. A couple of drones can be seen in the sky nearby, but none seem to be interested in the goings on at the train station. Emergency sirens can be heard at random intervals from the surrounding area. Looking southeast, Kobato can actually catch a glimpse of Mt. Rainier, but the haze and smoke hide any details.

Finally, a train stops. There are not a lot of travelers on this train, but she does take note of an armed Transit Monitor one car back. Most of the rest of the travelers appear armed and able to take care of themselves, just out for a trip on the Rail. One traveller looks out of place, an older Human woman, with tall, gray hair and very well dressed. She seems to be busy manipulating something on her TAP and possibly communicating subvocally. She does not seem to be paying any attention to her surroundings at all. Not too safe in this neighborhood, Kobato thinks. As she settles into her seat, she does notice that the two young Humans sitting across from her, both tall and fit, have black duffle bags at their feet with the StonePeak logo on it. Off duty cops, either going to or coming from a shift, she thinks.

Waterworld

The rest of Kobato's ride to the next stop is uneventful. She gets off at the proscribed stop and notices she's the only one getting off here. The terminal is covered with Rail Blazers graffiti. As the train pulls away she scans the area and quickly sees what must be Mud Lake. A large, brown expanse of water stretches out and covers what must be an abandoned water and theme park. Various makeshift bridges and platforms connect the different dilapidated buildings and broken down structures.

Realizing that she was likely standing out, being the only person on the platform, Kobato quickly moves to some cover and reviews the camp, looking for any activity and getting a feel for the entrances and exits.

Kobato sees that most of the park is ringed with water, though it is unclear how deep that water is in most places. It is definitely not too deep in many places as she sees the tops of fences, railings, benches and other things poking up out of the water. There seems to be a cobbled together wooden walkway leading from a wooded ridge into the building housing the boarding ramp of one of the coasters. Kobato does not see any movement in the park, but can hear some faint, muted music coming from somewhere in that direction.

Moving as quietly as she can, Kobato approaches the main entrance, keeping an ear out for the faint music she heard.

Kobato makes her way to the trees along the western edge of the property. The main entrance is a narrow walkway bridge stretching across about 15 yards of water. From here it is clear that the water isn’t too deep, probably only 5 or 6 feet at its deepest. The bridge leads to a wooden structure connected to a dilapidated rollercoaster. Scanning the area, she does not see anyone on lookout or notice any functioning surveillance tech.

Sticking to the shadows, Kobato approaches the rollercoaster, slowly, looking for good places to hide along the way. Her goal is to reach the place and find where the gangers make their hideout.

As Kobato makes it to the nearest end of the bridge, the sharp report of an automatic rifle rips through the sky. Bullets hit the water below the bridge and several ricochet off the bridge itself, flying all around her. There is no cover immediately behind her, the bridge is about 15 yards to the building across. There are some trees and a low earthen berm 3-4 yards behind her. Some shouts of “We have visitors,” can be heard echoing from within the park.

“Nail! Don’t be a coward. Come out here and bring me my sword or face me like a man!” Kobato runs forward, trying to close the distance to the nearest building without giving ground.

The sound of the automatic rifle fill the air again and Kobato can only assume the bullets are coming her way!

Kobato manages to dodge and weave as she runs across the bridge toward cover, luckily avoiding being hit by the bursts of automatic rifle fire. The gunfire continues followed by a shout of “Go to hell, bitch!” As she makes it about halfway across the bridge, though, her luck runs out and she feels several high powered slugs hit her. She is thrown to the decking of the bridge by the first hit and the second impact microseconds later threatens to throw her systems into standby mode. Warnings and notifications are popping up left and right and Kobato attempts to deal with them all. There is a momentary pause in the shooting, giving Kobato a brief second to try to recalibrate her motion actuators and sensors.

The next thing she knows, all of her systems begin shutting down, the alert: SYSTEM OVERLOAD keeps repeating. Then it stops and everything goes black.

 

Cast of Characters: 

Karh Danishan: a young hacker looking for that big score; played by Ben L
Doc John O'Brien: a washed out combat medic turned street doc; played by Dan E
Casanna "Talon" Moretti: a tiger hybrid bounty hunter; played by Carol C
Kobato: android former pop star turned anarchist; played by Jason P

and Jason GURPS as the GM