COMPLETED: Revenge is a dish best served with bullets!

[John]

Max listens in on Val's commentary as he continues,

"Really? The frag is wrong with you?? She needs help!"

[GM Nick]

Scan Hidden Node (4) (Val)

[Scan (5) + Electronic Warfare (5) = 6]
5 1 3 5 1 6 1 6 5 5

Val's avatar reaches out, passing his arm through space near the frequency address of the bouncer's tablet computer. Something flickers as his fingers pass through it. Gotcha.

[Stephen]

(( Forgot to mention I'm running Stealth. Safe to assume I'm always doing this during Hack-on-the-Fly attempts. ))

[GM Nick]

Improved Invis. (f4)

[Spellcasting (6) + MAG (6) + Power Focus (2) = 4]
1 6 6 3 4 5 5 1 2 4 4 3 4 1

Improved Reflexes (f4)

[Spellcasting (6) + MAG (6) + Power Focus (2) = 3]
2 1 5 6 2 5 3 4 3 4 2 2 2 3

Resist Drain (3)

[WIL (4) + LOG (6) + Centering (4) + Focused Concentration (2) = 6]
3 4 3 6 6 6 1 4 6 2 3 6 4 1 6 4

Resist Drain (4)

[WIL (4) + LOG (6) + Centering (4) + Focused Concentration (2) = 5]
1 3 1 6 2 6 3 2 5 1 1 4 6 1 5 3

Control Thoughts (f4)

[Spellcasting (6) + MAG (6) + Power Focus (2) = 5]
1 3 1 3 3 2 6 6 4 2 6 5 6 2

Resist Spell (Goon #2)

[WIL (4) = 2]
2 6 3 5

Tyros clutches the man's mind.

Resist Drain (4)

[WIL (4) + LOG (6) + Centering (4) + Focused Concentration (2) = 7]
3 4 3 6 2 4 6 1 6 5 6 3 2 5 1 5

[GM Nick]

Hack on the Fly Test (3)

[Hacking (5) + Exploit (4) + Codeslinger (2) = 6]
4 6 1 1 6 6 5 5 2 5 2

The node accepts Val's forged login credentials. A list of names and faces explodes from within, filling his field of vision.

[Stephen]

(( Don't forget my +2 dice for hot-sim! ))

Bits of data stream from Stat1C5hade's translucent fingertips as he paints the credentials of himself and his comrades into the guest list, making sure to flag the false entries as having VIP status. Once done, he edits the access log in an attempt to erase any evidence of his tampering.

[John]

Max can see over the first goon's shoulder as the second goon's eyes take on the somehow both glossy and dull quality that the entire team has become so familiar with. The guard's facial muscles relax and his body takes on the faintest sway that would be all but imperceptible to anybody who didn't know to look for it. Tyros is in there, and the odds are now squarely in Max's favor if this turns ugly.

[GM Nick]

"I said, beat it, elf."

The goon pulls a stun baton from the fold of his jacket.

[GM Nick]

Forge Command (Val)

[Hacking (5) + Spoof (4) + Hot Sim (2) = 5]
5 5 4 3 5 4 2 6 6 1 1
[System (3) + Firewall (3) = 3]
4 5 2 3 6 5

Val removes any trace of his actions after adding the team's roster to the VIP list.

[John]

Max raises his palms toward the goon and gives him jazz hands as he says,

"Oooooh, big tough guy. Alright, I'm leaving. Enjoy your night, asshole."

The elf turns to back down the alley. With the team on the VIP list now, there's little use for exit through the back anyway.

(( Elliott-- it might be a good idea to wipe these guys' memories just in case. ))

[Drew Buddy]

Doc laughs,

"Jesus, Val, if you can pull that off just like that, I'm taking you with me every time I go drinking."

He steps out of the Rover, and closes the door behind him, arming the security system once the others are out.

The packed crowd makes him uncomfortable.
Too damn many people around to afford any mistakes. We'll have to tread lightly, he thinks, as he meets Max at the corner. With a hint of concern in his voice, he greets the elf,

"You ready for this?"

[John]

Max's eyes are determined and Doc can plainly see that any uncertainty in the elf is gone. Max has a spotty track record with keeping his drek together; for every two situations in which he's come through big, there's one in which he has given up the team early, begun in-fighting with Tyros, or completely lost his cool all together. This will not be one of those times, and no words need speaking for that to be clearly obvious.

Max turns toward the line at the front of the club and gestures for the large troll playing tough guy at the door. Shouting over the din of the crowd, Max says,

"VIP list! Adams, Merrin, Sinjin, Tyros, and Overstreet!"

Max waves a credstick between the index and middle fingers of his right hand.

The elf puts his most coolly confident face forward in his dealings with the troll. 'The trog, more like it.' But no. He's going to keep it together. Nothing is more important than keeping it together-- regardless of whether or not this may have been one of the trolls who took his family from him.

[GM Nick]

"Hold up," grunts the troll. He runs a sausage sized index finger down the tiny screen.

"Oh, yes. Gentlemen! Welcome back. We're pleased to see you here again."

He snaps his fingers and the holographic cordon disappears.

"Go right in. Oh, and Mr. Merrin, your champagne is chilling."

[John]

Max slips the troll the credstick with next to nothing on it and slaps him merrily on his meaty shoulder. The elf enters the club more intently than he has any other situation in his life.

[Drew Buddy]

Doc follows close behind Max.

"This is your show, lead the way."

[John]

As Max scans the place, he thinks to himself 'Nowhere does lowlight vision come in handy like it does in this sort of hole.'

[Drew Buddy]

Doc watches for any reaction from Max as the elf picks apart the room with his eyes.

He has no idea what Max's daughter is supposed to look like.

I suppose there might be a family resemblance, but how the hell can you pick that out in this crowd?

He hopes for Max's sake that she isn't found on one of the poles.

[GM Nick]

The unrelenting force of the bass-heavy electronic music assaults the runners as they enter, feeling almost like physical blows with each reverberation. Strobe lights slice through the haze of cigarette smoke like plasma cutters, occasionally revealing a snapshot of an artificially perfect man or woman caught in the throes of drug-induced dancing. Holograms of jungle creatures creep along the dance floor; snakes slither in between dancer's feet and a tiger stalks in the corner, watching the clientele with predatory interest.

A tall, female elf in a skin-tight black latex outfit guides the team to their table. Her lips, glossy and glowing brightly under UV, are moving but any sound is lost in the din. Arriving near the back of the club, she gestures to a round stone table.

[John]

Max takes a seat at the most observationally advantageous place at the table and continues to scan the club.

[Drew Buddy]

Doc sits at the table, feeling somewhat useless. He orders a scotch, and gives a disinterested look around the room.

[GM Nick]

An Eastern European man approaches the table and smiles widely. He speaks, his thick accent cutting through the air like a blade.

"You are here for something special, yes? Perhaps you would like to see the menu?"

[John]

Max knows what kind of menu he's referring to, and nods knowingly.

[GM Nick]

The man opens his firewall and transfers a file to the team's respective PANs.

After a second during which the file is un-ecrypted, its nefarious contents splay across each team member's respective field of vision. A myriad of frames come into sharp relief. In each frame is a nude girl, presumably unconscious and posed provocatively. Adjacent to the photos are statistics with ethnicity, age, height and weight. A nuyen figure looms in the foreground of each photo, some staggeringly high.

Max's eyes race over the photos. His pulse hammers.

She's not there.

[John]

Max looks over the menu and motions the man close to him,

"This little get together is in honor of my pal here," Max slaps Doc on the shoulder and continues, "selling his manhood down the river for some slitch he met a couple months ago. Thing is, we're really looking for a girl who will remind him of the one that got away..."

Max proceeds to offer the man a description of what his daughter would look like today informed by what she last looked like when he knew her to be alive. Max drips salacious lecher off of his words in hopes that his ruse will not be seen through by this piece of drek standing before him.

[GM Nick]

Con Test (Max)

[Con (4) + CHA (7) + Pheromones (2) + First Impression (1) = 7]
3 3 6 5 5 1 3 2 5 2 6 5 1 5
[Con (3) + CHA (3) = 2]
1 3 5 6 2 3

The man listens intently and nods.

"I am afraid we do not have such product at this time. Tell you what, friend, I will contact our supplier and see if they have anything."


He turns away from the table and taps the side of his comm.

[Drew Buddy]

Doc gives the man a sheepish nod of gratitude.

"No dice, huh?" He asks Max once the man's back is turned.

[John]

Max's expression opens into jubilation and he throws his arms open wide, and he bellows,

"This guy! This is the guy!"

[Drew Buddy]

Doc hoists his drink in the air, doing his best to play the part of a poor sap having one last taste of freedom.

[GM Nick]

The man returns and raises his hands plaintively.

"So sorry, friend. We did have a girl just like that, but she was returned to the supplier after complaints from the customers."

[Drew Buddy]

Doc gives the man an earnest look that is usually the reserve of the very inebriated.

"Come on, man, she was the ONE! You gotta help me out, chummer, do me a solid," he says with a frank and eager slur.

"Can you hook me up with the, what'sit, supplier?"

[John]

Max slaps Doc on the chest and chastises him,

"Hey! This is your party, pal! I'm the one handling accommodations! You just need to sit back and wait for the best!"

Max stands and draws near to the man with the bad news and says,

"Look, my friend, price is no object here. This guy's like a brother to me! I've got to get him what he's looking for! What do you say? I'll make it worth your while." Max withdraws a credstick and taps it against the man's chest before continuing, "And don't worry about the slitch-- I'm sure she's nothing we can't handle."

As Max finishes, he gives the man another look that inwardly chills his bones while nodding suggestively.

"So how about? Grant a dying man's final wish?"

[GM Nick]

The man's eyes follow the credstick with alarming alacrity.

"Well, you know, for the right price... maybe I could, I don't know, set something up special..."

[John]

Max leads the pile of human drek standing before him,

"That's my man!" Max's put-on jubilation makes his flesh crawl as he interacts with the man who may very well have been part of the sale of his own daughter-- if she's alive, that is. But he doesn't miss a beat. It may very well be Max's career-defining performance. "Every man has a price, am I right! So go on-- I love a good opportunity to deal!"

[GM Nick]

The man glances surreptitiously over his shoulder and then back to Max.

"20,000 nuyen, my friend. It is a lot of money, I know, but you will need to pay your visit inside the supplier's place of business. You understand?"

[John]

Max pantomimes being comically gutshot. The elf takes a step back and grasps for his stomach as he looks up at the man with feigned anguish on his face. Reaching his right hand back toward the man with his fingers extended, he groans,

"Ohhhhhh! You got me! AggghhhhH! Ohhhh frag! I don't think I'm gonna' make it!"

Dropping the charade and smiling, Max steps back toward the man and attempts to broker a deal, knowing that blindly consenting to the price he was just offered might raise suspicions,

"How about ten? I don't think we have twenty to spread around, and it's my buddy's last chance to nail a slitch in anything other than missionary, you know? What do you say, my friend?"