Little Hawk – Stephen

Post by **GM Nick** » Wed May 28, 2014 9:30 am

Tian'we "Little-Hawk"
Nuyen: ¥17,600

Age: 32
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 175 lbs

[ QUALITIES ]
+ Codeslinger (Data Spike)
- Sensitive System

[ ATTRIBUTES ]
BOD: 3
AGI: 4
REA: 2(5)
STR: 2
WIL: 5
LOG: 6
INT: 4
CHA: 2
EDG: 2
Essence: 6.0
Initiative: 6(9)+4D6
Limitis: 9P/4M/4S

[ SKILLS ]
Computer: 3
Cybercombat: 3(5)
Demolitions: 1
Electronic Warfare: 3
Hacking: 3(5)
Locksmith: 3
Perception: 2
Pistols (SA): 4(6)
Software: 2
Unarmed Combat: 1
Police Procedures: 3
Matrix Hangouts: 3
Organized Crime (Yakuza): 2
Sprawl Life: 3
Gangs (First Nation): 2

[ POWERS ]
Attribute Boost (Agility) (1)
Enhanced Accuracy (Pistols)
Improved Ability (Cybercombat) (2)
Improved Ability (Hacking)
Improved Reflexes (3)

[ ARMOR ]
Lined Coat [9]

[ GEAR ]
AR Gloves
Bug Scanner
Data Tap
Goggles (Smartlink, Lowlight)
Area Jammer
Directional Jammer
Sim Module (Hot-Sim)
10 Security Tags
Wireless Sequencer
10 Stealth Tags
Tag Eraser
Subvocal Microphone
Trodes

[ CYBERDECK ]
Model: Microdeck Summit
Attack: 4
Sleaze: 3
Device Rating: 1
Data Processing: 1
Firewall: 3
Programs: Armor, Browse, Configurator, Decryption, Demolition, Edit, Encryption, Exploit, Fork, Guard, Hammer, Mugger, Shell, Signal Scrub, Sneak, Stealth, Toolbox, Virtual Machine

[ WEAPONS ]
Ares Predator V [ 8P | 5(8)acc | -1ap | SA | 2rc ]

[ CONTACTS ]
Max Teller (Beat Cop)[3.4]

Post by **GM Nick** » Sat May 31, 2014 12:28 pm

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 One of
seemingly thousands of sickly orange dock lamps flickers and dies as Tianwe
Little-Hawk scans the Everett waterfront from his rooftop perch, leaving yet
another small patch of darkness on the mottled vista of Pier 46. The remaining lamps cast their own virulent
halos into a noxious haze which seeps into his skin and permeates his very
soul. A cologne of salt, oil, ozone, and
refuse oozes lazily into Tian's nostrils as his eyes drift over the bay toward
the distant, towering arcology. A
burning landmark reaching to swallow all other light in its vicinity. How can a land of so many lights be so
utterly dark? The answer is beyond
him. Casting the thought aside, he tries
to imagine he can smell a trace of the pines he knows reside somewhere to the
north, far away, but success eludes him.
It has been too long, and this is his home now. His turf.
His and his brothers'. And they
are here to prove that today.

 Casting
his gaze out over the bay, Tian's attention turns to a new AR blip, just now
visible through the noise. One of his
First Nation brothers has succeeded, it seems, in planting a stealth RFID tag
on the small vessel.

 "Contact,"
Tian whispers into his commlink. A
chorus of acknowledgements crackle back in return. The boy at his side, Daneh Red-Sky, flashes
Tian a feral grin before turning his attention back to the bay. Watching from the corner of his eye, Tian
notes that the plaster grin doesn't fade.
For the hundredth time in as many days, Tian laments being assigned the duty
of supervising the 16-year-old nephew of the chief of the Everett chapter of
the First Nation on his final rite of passage.
He's not sure the honor is worth putting up with the sadistic little
child. And who ever had a final rite of
passage be to watch the back of a decker from near-total safety? Tian himself was nearly killed twice during
his own. No matter. After tonight, Tian can wash his hands of the
little drekbag.

 Their
quarry draws closer, running as dark as the night around it. The small boat belongs to one of the Seoulpa
Rings, and according to a Yakuza informant, carries the street-value equivalent
of around 75,000 nuyen worth of tempo. Not an insignificant score as far as Tianwe
is concerned. Not that he'll ever see
much of it anyway. At least enough to
gain some favor with the chiefs, at any rate.
Not to mention that the Ring has been gaining ground on the trade for
far too long. A message must be sent,
and that sapling cannot be allowed to take root.

 Their
intel suggests the boat is to dock at Pier 53, and making sure it doesn't is
Tian's primary goal this night. If the
First Nation marched onto Pier 53, the body count would be monumental on both
sides, and would likely favor the Ring.
The Nation will launch from Pier 46 once the boat is disabled just
offshore. Gangland piracy at its best.

 "Be
alert Red-Sky. It begins," Tian
whispers to the boy, who meets his warning with a contemptuous glare. Suppressing a flash of irritation, Tianwe
Little-Hawk settles down against the wall, propping his cyberdeck on his knees,
and drops into VR. He becomes a
quicksilver hawk, streaking through the vacuum toward the coded RFID tag
attached to the hull of the ship. Within
seconds he acquires the ship's engine node.
He launches a brute force attack, and silently smiles as a tiny silver
hawk's talon appears stamped on the engine's device node. One down, two to go. Little-Hawk prepares another code packet.

 The
flash of a red flare goes off in Tian's peripheral vision. The proximity sensor at the roof access
door. He hastily hurls the packet of
malicious code at the ship's engine, barely registering the appearance of another
talon mark on the node before jolting back into reality. Two.

 Tian
Little-Hawk awakens just in time to see the first tear slide down the cheek of
a filthy, terrified boy of perhaps twelve years old. Daneh Red-Sky has his pistol pressed against
the boy's temple, his offhand tangled in the boys greasy hair. "You're on the wrong roof,
chummer," Daneh spits maliciously in Salish. It's clear the boy doesn't understand a word.

 "NO,
Daneh! He knows not what he sees. Let him go!"

 Daneh
rounds on Tian with hateful lust in his eyes, "He has seen our faces. He cannot live. You know this."

 "He
is a boy. We will be with the wind
before this one can run 100 yards. Let
him go. If you want to prove yourself a
man this night, let him go," Tian counsels softly as his hand stealthily
taps one of the softkeys on his cyberdeck.
A filename "Hammer" replaces "Signal Scrub" in his
AR feed.

 *Report.
Little-Hawk, report. Target is
approaching Pier 46.* The request
crackles through Tian's commlink with a dire urgency.

 "You
are weak," Daneh sneers. "I
will show you strength." He grips
the boy harder and thrusts the barrel of his pistol against the boys head as
his finger creeps toward the trigger.
One choice, two paths. Tian
decides.

 A shower
of smoke and sparks erupts from Daneh's pistol as Tian's data spike melts its
internal circuitry, fusing the slide to the lower receiver. The distraction is enough for the boy to
wrench himself free of Daneh's grip and disappear through the access door. Daneh clutches his burned hand in disbelief
and stares after the boy for a moment before turning a baleful gaze on
Tian. A bellow of rage erupts from his
throat, and before Tian can so much as twitch, he finds himself on his back
with a combat knife pressed to his throat.
Blood wells from under the point of the blade as Daneh glares into his
eyes , suffused with blind hatred and putrid ecstacy. "Remember my face," Daneh croons as
he applies pressure to the blade.
"It will be the--"

 The
night illuminates with a flash. Another.

 Tian's
ears ring from the accompanying aural assault, and he becomes dimly aware of
his face being covered in warm blood.
Not his own. Daneh's body slumps
down on him with its full weight.
Gulping a breath of air, Tian shoves the body away, eyes frantically
darting around the rooftop until they finally land on a shadowed figure
emerging from the access door. A
gleaming Ruger Lawgiver leveled straight at his head gives Tianwe all the
identification he needs. His eyes flick
to the cyberdeck lying just within reach at his side.

 "Don't
you fragging do it," a gruff voice commands firmly. "Kick it here. With your foot." Tian has no choice but to comply. The figure advances far enough into the light
to confirm Tian's suspicions. An
ordinary beat cop. A short, stubby
fingernail on the long arm of the law.
Tian watches as the man picks up his cyberdeck, suppressing the suicidal
urge to draw his pistol on the man for profaning his deck with so much as a
look. The Ruger leveled at his head keeps
the urge in check. Barely.

 The cop
hefts the cyberdeck, grunting softly. In
a matter of seconds, his eyes flick to the ruined pistol on the ground, to
Daneh's cooling body, to the access door behind him, and come to rest on Tianwe
Little-Hawk.

 "I'd
ask what happened here, but I think I already know," he rumbles. He cocks his head as if waiting for
something. Tian offers nothing. "Get up."

 Tian
stands slowly. The men stare at each
other. Seconds seem to stretch into minutes. "The boy?" Tian asks finally in
heavily-accented English, more to break the silence than anything else.

 "Probably
snug as a rat in the Redmond landfill at this point. Looked scared as drek when he ran by, but
he'll be fine." The cop looks him
up and down. "I should take you
in."

 Tian
only looks at him, doing his best to ignore the increasingly urgent radio
chatter coming through his commlink.

 "But
I won't," the man finishes. "I
know what you did here. Most cops in
this fragging city wouldn't do the same if it was their own fragging mother
under the gun." He hesitates a
moment. "Lone Star is all over that
boat. We've had it painted since it left
port. Nothing you can do to change it now.
Go. I'll think of something to
tell the boys. Best go now. Before I change my mind."

 To nod
in a modicum thanks is all Tian can bring himself to do. Everything is completely fragged. He's just screwed up royally. And he knows it. He begins walking numbly to the door, trying
not to look at Daneh's body on the way.

 "Hey,"
the gruff voice calls to Tian. He
snatches the cyberdeck as it hits him in the chest, too numb to feel the
appropriate level of rage at the reckless treatment of such a holy object, and
too shocked to do anything but stare at the cop who just gave it back to
him. "What's your name?"

 "Little-Hawk,"
he replies from somewhere far away.
"Tianwe Little Hawk."

 "Maxwell
Teller. Where you goin' now?"

 Tian
forces his gaze to Daneh's body. He was
a brother of the First Nation, but he didn't deserve death any less because of
it. "I need to tell his family. My family."

 Teller
takes a long look at the body, then turns his gaze to the cyberdeck he's just
returned to Tian's hands. "From
time to time, we all make choices that go against ourselves, who everyone wants
us to be, who even we think we are,
but that don't make them wrong. Just
think of it as being reborn one choice at a time. That's what makes us free, chummer." He gestures to the world around him. "Certainly not all this. Farewell, Tianwe Little-Hawk. Perhaps we'll meet again."

 Tianwe
nods hollowly, turning toward the door.
The night is as silent as Seattle gets; the only thing quieter is his
commlink. He walks into the night to face
the music he knows is coming. Alone.

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Little Hawk – Stephen

Little Hawk – Stephen

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