Run #3 - The Smoking Gunwale

[GM Nick]

It's not quite dawn. The stars are concealed by an opaque marine fog that has settled over the night. Even the moon is victim to the murk, rendered nothing more than a muted blotch on gauzy canvas. The only light on the horizon comes in the form of sporadic bursts of tracer fire; faint trails that resemble shooting stars in reverse. Despite the idyllic past few days at the ranch, the war grinds on.

The runners are gathered in a circular conference room located in the bowels of the maze-like chateau. Sitting on executive chairs around a polished wooden table, surrounded by the colorful patina, they are sequestered from the dreary sky. Though fairly accustomed now to Tex's lavish abode, most of the team still feels deeply out of place among the opulence. Even Achak, who is seated with them, doesn't look very comfortable.

At the center of the conference table is a glass sphere ringed with LEDs. This high-end tri-dimensional projector is connected to a dizzying array of communications equipment, all of which serve a single purpose: establishing an encrypted link to Preacher's church. Even though the enigmatic fixer is some eight hundred miles away, a near-perfect facsimile of him stands just above the orb. The implications of this setup are obvious to the entire team: Tex and their fixer have a deep connection.

Preacher is garbed in a simple, monochromatic vestment. A gold crucifex dangles around his neck, casting a strange glare into the tri-dimensional sensors. He smiles at Achak and makes the sign of the cross with a sleeved hand, before nodding to the team. The commanding quality of Preacher's voice is not lost in the transmission, thanks to the sophisticated equipment.

"I am grateful to be working with you once again." His eyes stray to one side and then the other. "Those of you who have decided to stay."

[John]

Everything hurts. Mick has spent the last 48 hours getting brown-out drunk, suffocating to the point of passing out amidst a panic / psychic attack, getting scooped up into a wheel barrow by one of the Blue Dog Ranch groundskeepers, and being flayed open to have lab-grown plating grafted onto their entire fraggin' skeleton.

Everything. hurts.

The ork is just barely able to lift their head to regard the ghostly projection, their skin throbbing with every even minute vibration they endure. The dark circles under their eyes are such deep bruises that they would damned-near be enough to start a convincing raccoon cosplay.

"Looks like you're bleeding parishioners, Padre." Their voice is hardly more than a grumble that comes dribbling from their lips, lifeless and weary. Mick looks at their companions, another pang of rage at Taipan's disappearance erupting within them and setting their scoured nervous system screaming. The ork returns their watery attention to the projection. "Usually a sign of your flock losing faith."

[MattL]

Yung leans back casually in the comfortable executive chair, with fingers intertwined, supporting his head. One of his legs is folded casually across his lap as he rocks slightly. He wears his familiar round rimmed glasses, the only aspect of his outfit that remains consistent. Instead of his trademark high fashion attire, he’s wearing a black Pumatec tracksuit and a pair of fuzzy pink slippers. Despite his cozy looking getup, he shifts uncomfortably in his seat every couple of minutes.

He leans forward to take a sip of tea, the steam briefly clouds the exterior of his glasses obscuring the reflection of the trid-projected image of Preacher. "Es verdad." He adds to Mick’s comment, the tone of his voice conveying clear irritation. "Can’t say I blame em, getting stuck in FreeCal for what was supposed to be a one and done job. Wasn’t planning to stick around myself, but we weren’t left with any good alternatives, eh." He slowly stands as he finishes speaking, turning his back to Preacher as he walks over to the nearest wall.

He turns around and leans back against the wall, crossing his arms. "Anyway, we’re here, ne? So, let’s hear what’s next on the agenda."

[GM Nick]

Preacher turns to Yung, displaying all the warmth of a funeral director. The frigidity of the fixer's gaze is just as potent via hologram, reminding Yung of a Siberian winter.

"There is a man: Alexei Volkov. Perhaps you have heard of him? He was deputy Minister of Defense for the New Soviet Socialist Republic before the war. These days, he fancies himself an information broker. Although he lost his position, he retained much of his influence. His retirement is a farce, he simply pulls strings from the shadows now."

"Volkov owns a shipping concern by the name of Voskhod Light Industries. For quite some time we believed this corporation to be a shell, nothing more than a means to conceal his movements. There was no evidence to suggest that it was even a real venture. Until now."

"A vessel was spotted off the coast of Baja." Preacher lifts his fingers, causing the rosary beads wrapped around them to clack. Grainy stills of a large freighter appear in front of the fixer. Barely visible on the side of the ship is a hull identification number and Voskhod LI. The ship itself extends far past the edges of the frame, hinting at its massive size. "The ship continued to sail North, until it reached the territorial waters of California. "

"The ship stopped sailing twenty miles off the coast of San Diego-- where it remains. I managed to obtain satellite imagery of the ship but there was no cargo or crew to be seen on deck. I immediately dispatched Achak to surveil the freighter. Unfortunately-- as you know-- Achak was apprehended just before he could board the craft. It was a foolish oversight to send a single agent on this errand. I take full responsibility."

Preacher clears his throat. "Most curious of all is the fact that the Imperial Navy has not approached the derelict freighter, not with man nor drone. You have served me well so far. I wish to enlist your services again. I desire-- no, I need to know the purpose of that vessel. It is crucial that I understand Volkov's machinations."

"I want your team to sneak aboard the freighter, discover its secrets, uncover its purpose, and report it to me. Depending on what you find, I would ask that you either commandeer or scuttle it. That is a decision that will be made once I have gleaned the ship's mysteries."

"I will answer what questions I can, but know that there is much we do not know."

[Drew Buddy]

Axel sits leaned back in his chair, one leg propped up on the other knee, sipping a drink from a pineapple (Tex said it's real!) with a little colorful umbrella in it. He smacks his lips. The alcohol does its job to keep him relaxed.

"Good to see you too, padre." He says as stares at the small figure in three dimensions. "So the Japanese empire, and now some neo-Soviet dude? We off to Italy and Germany next for the World War II collector's pack?"

His nonchalant attitude covers his displeasure at having to travel even further from Seattle. But he also finds himself hooked. "And can't say I've boosted a pleasure yacht before, but I'm up to the challenge. " He's a bit surprised at the twinge of hunger in his voice. "Any intercepted chatter from the Nipponese about why they're giving it a wide berth?"

[GM Nick]

Preacher blinks at Axel. Much to the rigger's chagrin (or relief) the sarcastic banter breaks upon Preacher's stoic demeanor like a snowball on the side of a mountain. Axel idly wonders if Preacher isn't secretly taking a mental record of these gibes in order to exact appropriate revenge at a later date. If he hadn't been somewhat intoxicated, he might shiver.

"I gather there is some debate about the vessel's territorial status. Some maps put its position in International waters while others claim it is California territory. As the ship sailed from Aztlan waters it's possible that the Imperials are treading carefully, so as not to make an enemy they cannot afford. A war on two fronts would spell the end for Keiji Saito."

[Molly]

The wee hours of the morning bear little impact on Mouse’s disposition, who has apparently made herself comfortable alongside her peers. If anything, she seems in the midst of a placid afterglow, bearing the self-satisfied expression of a well fed cat, who would express nothing but shock and sympathy at the mention of a missing canary.

In front of her is a heavy porcelain cup, loaded with what is apparently several shots of espresso, thoroughly doused in milk and sugar. She gives it an idle stir as she muses over this news, watching ribbons of some kind of caramel wash into the swirling blend of caffeine and diabetes. "I WAS GOING TO SAY- SAN DIEGO’S PRETTY FAR SOUTH FOR SAITO." There’s a gentle clink as her spoon comes to a rest. "NOT THAT IT STOPPED THEM FROM DETAINING ACHAK."

"AND YET, WHAT YOU’RE SUGGESTING WOULD NECESSITATE A SIMILAR APPROACH- WOULD IT NOT? ONE THAT WOULD TAKE US ON A DANGEROUS ROUTE, DEEPER INTO IMPERIAL TERRITORY?" Her synthetic tones roll along smoothly, revealing neither irritation nor anxiety, as she lifts her cup gently with both hands to sip at the sugary concoction.

"THIS WOULD PERHAPS BE A MORE MANAGEABLE ASK, HAD WE AN EXPERIENCED SAILOR AMONG OUR NUMBERS, OR SIMPLY MORE MUSCLE, SHOULD WE ENCOUNTER RESISTANCE EN ROUTE." It’s here that she pointedly eyes the conspicuously empty seats, as though waiting for them to speak. "AS IT STANDS, PERHAPS I SHOULD CUT MY EARS OFF AHEAD OF TIME- SAVE THEM THE TROUBLE WHEN THEY FIND US."

[GM Nick]

Achak makes an expression that seems to proclaim it can't helped. "My mistake was entering from California waters. I was swept up by Saito's coastal guard. I foolishly thought that as a single person, I could pilot a craft small enough to avoid
detection."

Preacher inclines his head ever so slightly. "Indeed. The better course of action would be to chart a course to International waters from a safe launch then approach the vessel. Saito's troops are extremely unlikely to venture out of California waters, especially at the moment. In International waters, the only threat you'd need to be wary of is piracy."

[John]

Mick suppresses a snicker as they envision Preacher with an eye patch and a parrot indifferently shitting on his shoulder, the most enjoyable single element of the image being the idea of whatever event earned him his peg leg.

Wincing as they shift in their seat, the ork asks, "Got any idea of how many people might be on this shit? Thermals showing activity on deck, outbound comms chatter, drek like that?" They think back to the horrors Saito like to hide in his basement. "Any signs of life, or are we boarding a ghost ship haunted by cyber demons?" They

[GM Nick]

Preacher's head shifts from side to side, but his gaze remains firmly locked on the team. "We were not able to obtain any infrared imagery. Furthermore, the proximity of the vessel to the Aztlan DMZ makes magical reconnaissance difficult. To put it plainly: we simply do not know who or what awaits you aboard the freighter. The silver lining is that-- to the rest of the world-- it appears to be nothing more than a stranded vessel from a little-known corporation; commercial salvage, if you will."

[John]

The ork's eyes narrow. "So how long has it been sitting there dead in the water?"

[GM Nick]

"This day marks the twenty-first day that the vessel has remained at its position. As far as we know, no parties have boarded or disembarked the ship. As the ship lies on the same latitude as the DMZ, I imagine both Aztlan and Saito's regime are hesitant to investigate. The presence of patrols of both nations has likely thus far dissuaded any other curious parties. As mentioned, pirates are the only group desperate and bold enough to challenge coastal defense over what appears to be an abandoned ship. "

Preacher turns the rosary beads over in his hand. "This is my personal assessment. I can make no guarantees based on so little intelligence. I would suggest that you approach the matter in a manner that best befits your team."

[Molly]

A faint chill runs down the decker’s spine at Mick’s mention of ghosts and cyber demons, the phrase ‘dead in the water’ seeming suddenly quite apt. Between detention centers, digital-child-nukes, gojira and slumbering elder gods, Mouse can’t help but indulge her more cautious instincts when it comes to ‘secrets lurking in the water.’

"OF COURSE, THE LONGER WE WAIT, THE MORE LIKELY THAT SOMEONE WILL BE STUPID ENOUGH TO TRY IT." Her dark eyes dart to the team’s usual negotiator, as if to underscore the full implications of her ‘concerns’: urgency tends to add a comfortable padding to the price tag for a job.

There are, of course, pragmatic calculations to be made as well. "IN ANY CASE, IF WE’RE TO APPROACH FROM INTERNATIONAL WATERS, WE’LL NEED ANOTHER BOAT TO DO IT. CAN WE COUNT ON A DEAR FRIEND TO PROVIDE US WITH ONE? OR ARE WE TO PROCURE ONE OURSELVES?"

[GM Nick]

The gravity of Preacher's leaden gaze lands on Mouse.

"I have asked more than I feel comfortable of my comrade. No, I will supply the finances necessary for securing a vessel. Or, should the occasion arise and you obtain one by other means--" Preacher clears his throat to accentuate his intention. "--then that expense would instead be applied to your pay."

[John]

"Diving gear!" The words come bounding out of the ork's mouth, gracelessly elbowing their way into the room with all the tact of a drunk vomiting down his chest on the subway. Catching themself, the adept approaches the idea more cautiously. "We get a little ways away, jump in, and swim up to the ship beneath the surface." They make a wriggly series of hand gestures that broadly affect the idea of the team swimming up to the underside of the ship.

[GM Nick]

Achak raises a hand. The shaman is dressed in a suede armored jacket with fringes and tactical pants tucked into combat boots. His raven black braids are gathered in a bundle that rests atop his skull. "Pardon the interruption, but I am able to infuse blood with oxygen for short periods of time, averting the need to breathe underwater."

[MattL]

Yung clicks his tongue, "Hate to perpetuate a century old stereotype, but I never learned to swim."

[John]

Mick shrugs, then grimaces. "I figure maybe we try to get some kind of thing like divers use? Basically like a little propeller and handles." They sigh. "Then, I don't know, maybe you just hold onto me?" The idea looks like it makes the ork uncomfortable, but not so much as to make it insultingly so– at least, probably not to most people.

[Molly]

Mouse bites back the obvious discomfort at the mention of diving, only for Yung to voice her exact concerns. She quirks an eyebrow in surprise, having stolen a peek at Yung's build before, which she put firmly in the category of a 'Swimmer's Body'.

"IT MAY BE GOOD TO KEEP OUR OPTIONS OPEN, ESPECIALLY IF WE’RE BRINGING EQUIPMENT THAT CAN’T BE WATERPROOFED." She fills this in with a loose shrug, as if her forced informality would cover for her own visions of herself flailing miserably in the ocean. "BUT IF YOU GUYS THINK YOU'RE STRONG ENOUGH, I'M NOT TOO PROUD TO BE A BACKPACK. IT’LL BE LIKE THAT MOVIE- RACCACOONIE."

[Drew Buddy]

The words flow over Axel, leaving little impression. His mind is on other matters.

"So we can try to steal a boat," he says, eyes intense, "and we'll get paid even more to do it?" The look on his face can only be described as why-aren't-we-doing-this-right-now?

[John]

Mick catches the decker's expression from their periphery, and can't help but smile at the guy. 'Hard not love a fellow lowlife with a lust for grand larceny.' Camaraderie amongst thieves, indeed.

The ork returns their attention to Preacher, and bluntly asks, "How does this lead to us getting out of FreeCal?"

[GM Nick]

"Once this task is complete, I will be able to recall Achak to Seattle. He has connections that should enable you to cross the border, should the fighting die down."

Achak nods in agreement. "I must remain here until this is done, but I would be happy to escort you back."

[John]

Mick nods. "Uh-huh. And only if we run this errand for you, right?"

[GM Nick]

Achak locks eyes with Mick. "That goes without saying."

"As this is a time sensitive matter, I can't afford to delay. You're free to pursue your own way across the border as was the provision of our last agreement. However, that means abandoning this contract, which you may decide against once you hear my
offer," Preacher adds.

[Molly]

The decker traces a finger in the air, drawing up maps of the broader California coastline in her HUD. "IF WE BOOST A SHIP AND MAKE IT INTO INTERNATIONAL WATERS, WE’RE AS GOOD AS OUT ANYWAY, NE?" Obviously this is oversimplifying- out in the Pacific is still a long way from home, but technically it qualifies as ‘getting out of Freecal’.

She pauses her deliberations and laces her fingers in thought, gazing at the fixer's projection behind the rising steam of her drink. "ONLY THIS WAY, WE’D ALSO BE HELPING A FRIEND IN NEED- ONE WHO DOESN’T HAVE MANY OPTIONS BESIDES US, GIVEN THE CIRCUMSTANCES. "She casts a knowing glance toward Mick- as if to reassure the ork that she has not, in fact, forgotten who had gotten them stuck in Freecal to begin with. At least this way, they could get the promise of a payday out of a task that would be tempting regardless.

Her lips settle into a gentle smile as she returns her focus to Yung, still undoubtedly a shrewd negotiator despite his present appearances, and the good Preacher. "AS SUCH, I’M SURE WE CAN COME TO A MUTUALLY BENEFICIAL ARRANGEMENT- WOULDN'T YOU AGREE?"

(( …assuming Yung ends up negotiating for us, throw in some teamwork dice for me, please? :) ))

[John]

Mick grumbles and settles heavily into their seat, but not before casting their best 'I see through your shit' look at Achak, who was "happy" to help.

[MattL]

Yung slowly peels himself off the wall, pulling the top of his tracksuit taut and placing both hands behind his back and begins slowly circling the table. "Mmmm." He shakes his head. "This is a tough one father, time sensitive, a lot of unknowns, disputed territory…" He lets out a trio of *tuts* "That said, I think the crew sees the merit of your actions, apparently we don’t lack the moral fiber that is so common among mercenaries." He smirks. Despite what Zal might think.

"You and Tex have been quite accommodating and frankly, the pay has been adequate to the risk. But this feels like a powder keg, and we could very well be the match." He says slowly, lowering the pitch of his voice to convey the weight of the statement.

"What kind of resources are you and Tex prepared to offer that can provide us an approach, is it indeed up to us to boost transportation?" His tone emphasizes the word ‘boost’, as he glances at Axel, subtly cocking an eyebrow at the rigger. "Given that you sent such an important and capable agent on the first excursion, this information is clearly of great value. So where shall we begin?"

[GM Nick]

Preacher's eyes track Yung's orbit of the conference table. "I am prepared to pay seventy five thousand nuyen to each one of you who accompanies Achak. This payment is contingent on the discovery of the freighter's purpose. Contact me once you have unveiled this secret and I will issue an appropriate directive-- depending on which will confer a further bonus. I will provide a thirty thousand nuyen stipend for securing transportation to Achak. As mentioned, should you secure your own transportation, I will pay that amount directly to you upon completion of this task."

[Molly]

Mouse presses her narrow eyes shut once more, as though to indulge in a moment of silent deliberation. In truth, the gesture is little more than a fig leaf for the way her pupils bloom at the obscene number. Leave it to a preacher to so effectively wield temptation- something about being a 'fisher of men' and all that.

She takes another sip of her drink, letting the sweetness wash over her, as though to combat the deeper sense of hunger clawing at her judgment. "IT’S ALWAYS HUMBLING TO LEARN WHAT A LIFE IS WORTH." As her deck tabulates Preacher's expenditures on these past missions, she can't help but peek back at Achak, as though to try to read his stoic expressions. After all, this sum alone is close to what the Preacher had paid for his dear friend's safe return from captivity and torture. After the bonuses, it's easily more.

"BEAR IN MIND, WE'LL LIKELY NEED TO PROCURE ADDITIONAL EQUIPMENT IF WE'RE TO PREPARE FOR ALL OUTCOMES." She looks between her fellow runners, as if they were her true audience for these considerations. "ASSUME WE MAKE IT ON BOARD, ONLY FOR THE GOOD PREACHER TO DECIDE HE NEEDS THE SHIP UNDERWATER." She tilts her head as though weighing this possibility. "THAT WOULD REQUIRE US TO HAVE, ON HAND, ENOUGH FIREPOWER TO BLOW A HOLE IN THE SIDE OF A FREIGHTER."

"I'M SURE WE COULD COME UP WITH CREATIVE ALTERNATIVES, BUT THAT INTRODUCES RISK, AND WITH THE STAKES THIS HIGH…" The implications hardly need to be spoken, though she eyes Yung once more, making way for him to work his magic.

[MattL]

Yung draws his lips to a line, as Mouse supplements the negotiation. As she discusses the various contingencies the team might face, he closes his eyes and begins gently nodding his head in agreement.

He waits for a brief stillness to settle over the room after she finishes. "She makes some excellent points." he says with a low drawl. "There's even more unknowns than the last run, makes eventualities difficult to plan for." He runs his left hand through his hair, scratching the back of his neck for a moment.

He turns to address the projection of Preacher, "For this, we need an additional ten percent on the base fee. An additional seventy five hundred nuyen for a stipend, which can be applied to any mission relevant expenditures, not just transportation."

He puffs a sigh through his nostrils, "I don't like the idea of negotiating a bonus while the operation is underway, it leaves both parties at a potential disadvantage depending on the situation. An alternative that would be preferred, but I'm not sure that is possible." He concludes, lifting his arms out wide in a gesture welcoming input.

(( Roll negotiation, second chance. ))

[GM Nick]

Dice

Mouse - Assist Yung (Negotiation)
Neg (2) + Cha (6)
6, 2, 3, 1, 5, 1, 2, 3
2 hits on 8 dice
~
Yung - Negotiation
Neg (5) + Cha (5) + 2 (Teamwork)
1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 1, 4, 6, 1, 3, 2
1 hit on 12 dice
~ Second Chance ~
1, 1, 2, 6, 1, 3, 6, 5, 2, 6, 3
4 hits on 11 dice (( Total 5 hits ))
~ vs ~
Preacher - Negotiation
Neg (5) + Cha (4) + 2 (Spec.)
1, 3, 6, 3, 5, 6, 1, 4, 4, 6, 1
4 hits on 11 dice

"There is merit to your counter-point, but my offer is already exceedingly generous. I believe a five percent increase across the board is more than enough incentive. To summarize: seventy-eight thousand, seven hundred and fifty nuyen to each agent, thirty-one thousand, five hundred nuyen for a vehicle stipend, and a five percent increase of any bonus that we negotiate at a later date."

Achak glances at Yung, then back to Preacher. "Sir, with respect, this mission's success depends on a stealthy insertion. Should we not maximize that chance by investing in or incentivizing the capture of a quality vehicle?"

Preacher turns to Achak with something akin to surprise buried beneath his rigid expression. "You aren't wrong. Very well. A five percent increase to base pay and bonus, but a vehicle stipend of fifty-thousand nuyen."

"Thank you, sir." Achak bows his head.

[MattL]

Yung looks down slightly as Preacher counters his offer, it's only once Achak interjects that he lifts his eyes to acknowledge the Amerind's contribution. If this is some kind of backdoor negotiation tactic, not sure what it gains Preacher. He narrows one eye behind his glasses, trying to work through situations where this somehow backfires. However, the Padre has never given the group reason to doubt his intentions.

Yung clears his throat slightly, "We will agree to the terms of this arrangement," he says, with a quicker more pitched inflection before continuing at a slower more deliberate tone "provided, that Tex is willing to utilize his network for any resources needed for the job. Assuming we are successful, I would also request that you be willing facilitate our efforts in acquiring any potential difficult to acquire items or services in Seattle."

"Do we have a deal?"

(( Not sure if that requires more negotiation, if so Second Chance again ))

[GM Nick]

Preacher tilts his head forward in a subtle nod. "That is acceptable. Then, we have a deal. Achak, please demonstrate the DSEC-D."

Achak stands and retrieves something from under the conference table. The device is the size of one half a carton of cigarettes, composed of titanium and vacuum molded composite bumpers. It opens lengthwise, revealing a control interface and telescoping antennae.

"This is the device you will use to contact me once you have determined the freighter's purpose," says Preacher. "It is a Directional Satellite Encryption Communications Device. The device has been pre-configured to transmit on a specific frequency to which I will be attuned. In order to dissuade eavesdroppers, the device is capable of 1024-bit chaos cryptology. Prior to beginning a transmission, remove the safety cover from the back of the device and turn both keys. This will destroy a stasis module inside the unit that will release a highly unstable radioactive isotope. The encryption algorithm creates a complex hash based on the vibration frequencies of alpha particle decay, which is impossible to predict. Know however, that the half-life of said isotope is only twenty minutes, so it's imperative that you use the device directly after engaging the keys. This is the only secure method of contacting me that can be employed in the field, as well as the only method likely to overcome any interference generated by proximity to the DMZ."

[Drew Buddy]

Axel lets out a low whistle. "That's a serious piece of kit. So no one is approaching the freighter, but they're probably listening and watching it closely then." He takes another sip from his drink. "That means we definitely want to go in quiet."

He turns to Achack. "Any idea where to start looking for a ride? If the current owners are deserving enough," he glances toward Mouse, and points a thumb and index finger between her and himself. "The two of us can probably negotiate a steep discount."

[John]

Mick watches the smart ones and the bulldrek artist volley thoughts and implications back and forth, certain the best contribution they can offer the party at the moment is their silence. They hated feeling stuck in Preacher's grasp, let alone feeling stuck in FreeCal. But, regardless of their feelings on the situation, with the group's plan to expose what Saito keeps in his basement's basement already set in motion, there was no longer any question. Mick had thrown in with this crew, and would stick with them at the very least until the task was done and the sky began to fall.