Nail catches the wire ties and begins tying up Sasheille when Goethe begins his monologue. While tying, he speaks lowly near Sasheille’s ear so that only he can hear: “Hope you got the wax out. Goethe can be a real chatterbox.”
A few seconds later, he gives the wire ties one final swift yank. “Well, enjoy your chat,” he says, and then immediately rushes to help the wounded UO soldier.
Seneth commands the Water Spirit.
“I’m going to heal these children. Please enhance my healing spell as much as possible.”
A brief update for now. The next major update will be up in the next few hours.
Seneth enters the room and looks over the UO agents. Both men have passed on, and no amount of magic can save them. Goethe could use some healing, but the rugged ork doesn’t appear to be too concerned about it. Next to the badly damaged 4509, he looks like the figure of health.
As 4509 slaps Kirk in an attempt to rouse her, Darwin beeps and buzzes urgently. He glides toward the cyborg and attempts to fit himself in between 4509 and Kirk. Before 4509 can smash the drone to bits, Donovan intervenes. He gently pulls the drone away from 4509.
“You don’t want to be there,” Donovan says to Darwin. “Don’t worry. He won’t her her,” Donovan says. He refrains from adding “I hope.” He turns to Seneth, and shouts “Bring the spirit over here! See if it can clean some of that poison from Kirk, before 4509 breaks her jaw.”
Goethe and 4509 can potentially benefit from healing. Kirk can potentially benefit from the water spirit using a cleansing spell to detoxify her. Seneth should prioritize his healing effort before I resolve the results.
Meanwhile, Goethe is interrogating Sasheille. The elf miraculously seems to gain confidence during Goethe’s speech. Goethe has the impression that he has inadvertently told Sasheille something that pleases the elf.
“You think you hold all the cards, do you?” Sasheille says with smug wickedness. “Go on and kill me, then, because I don’t know where Johnson is. Even if you find him, your mongrel crew would be torn apart by his security team. And, even if a miracle happens and you manage to kill or capture him, you’ll all end up dead in the end. Synthcorp isn’t the end of it. Everyone knows it, right? UO, Synthcorp, McManus…all of us are like children in a sandbox, and trust me; you don’t want the adults to catch us fighting.” Sasheille chuckles as a sudden humorous thought jumps into his head.
“I bet my daddy can beat up yours,” Sasheille mocks. “As for your elf girlfriend, I don’t know what he wants with her, but I can guess. The girl’s a prodigy; anyone can see it. As it turns out, Synthcorp needs a new genius, since the last one ended up with too many holes in him. Thanks for that, by the way. I was told to keep her anesthetized and unhurt.”
Goethe is quite sure that Sasheille has not lied to him, or attempted to deceive him. Goethe may continue interrogating Sasheille if he has any more questions for him.
"I’m not taking your bet, because you’re probably right. Your daddy probably could beat up mine. And I don’t need to hold all the cards. I just need to hold the right pocket card. And Synthcorp has gone to great lengths to keep whatever is in that video from getting out.
"And Normally I’d be surprised that you seemed to be pleased at Arry’s death, but since Synthcorp tends to view everyone who works for them as disposable commodities anyway, I really kind of expect it at this point. Of course, it does raise one interesting question…How do you know you’re not next? You clearly failed at stopping us. What’s to stop them from killing you as well?
Priority of healing.
Goethe
Kirk
4509
Oh, and as far as us ending up dead in the end, what difference does that make? We were dead the moment we agreed to work for you guys. So we might as well see how deep the rabbit hole goes. You think I underestimate you, and you might be right. But you underestimate this crew even more. It really doesn’t matter who kills us, does it? Johnson wouldn’t have stopped until we were dead, so he kind of forced our hand on this one. So your threat about the big bad evil guy at the end of the conspiracy chain of dunces doesn’t amount to anything more than indicating that your corp is little more than a tool. But it’s good to know. See, information exchange. I don’t suppose you’d actually want to share whose boots Johnson licks, would you? I only ask out of curiousity’s sake, of course.
Assuming he has any downtime after treating the UO dude, Nail stretches deep, cracking his knuckles over his head. He then reclines against the wall, lights a cig, and enjoys a brief moment of relaxation.
As Goethe interrogates Sasheille, Seneth approaches him from the side. Goethe ignores Seneth as the mage places a hand on his shoulder and begins chanting quietly. Only a small grunt escapes Goethe’s mouth as the spell takes effect; otherwise there is no sign the ork even notices he is being healed. Seneth can feel resistance from Goethe’s cybernetics, like static buzzing in Seneth’s concentration. The mage pushes through the interference with brute force, and is pleased to feel the resistance fade.
Next, Seneth approaches Kirk, with the water spirit alongside him. 4509 is shaking the unconscious elf a bit too roughly, and Darwin is fidgeting with displeasure.
“Fix her,” Seneth tells the water spirit, but the nuturing entity has already begun to approach the elf. It envelops her with energy, and there is a sound of pouring water that gradually increases in volume. In moments, Kirk opens her eyes with a sudden panicked jolt. 4509 in particular sends her scrambling backward in terror. It doesn’t take her long to realize that she is among allies, though, as Darwin glides over to her.
“I feel awful,” Kirk says, nowhere near her normal overly-verbose awkward self.
Seneth turns his attention to the cyborg. 4509 glares back at him, and Seneth half-expects the cyborg to crush him for daring to use magic on him. But then Seneth realizes that 4509 is even more damaged than previously known. The cyborg’s eyes seem unable to remain in focus, and he twitches involuntarily as his systems struggle to remain online. Miraculously, 4509 does not resist or even protest as Seneth lays a hand on him. As he begins to channel healing energy through the cyborg, Seneth’s fingers go numb. There is almost no humanity left inside for him to heal.
“I need your assistance, spirit,” Seneth says, as he feels his own energy pouring through the machinery as if it were a drain. The water spirit adds its power to Seneth’s, as they both concentrate on healing the man inside the machine. Seneth searches through the spiritual chasm of 4509 for any sign of life that he can latch onto, but there is only an expanse of suffocating darkness. Seneth is prepared to abandon his effort, when he finds the smallest spark of life he has ever seen in a human. Seneth and the spirit cooperate together, directing their power toward the one hopeful spark, as 4509 suddenly goes rigid. He can’t help but exhale a long, agonized groan as Seneth’s healing magic begins to work. The interface between his body and the machines that have been attached to it become overloaded with activity, and 4509 can feel his systems being rapidly brought back online. The feeling that he has been “changed” somehow is unnerving, like he has been contaminated by something he can never be rid of. Resentment rages within 4509, and it is all he can do to control himself from squishing the life out of the offending mage.
While Seneth heals the party, Goethe continues his conversation with Sasheille.
“Johnson doesn’t lick anyone’s boots,” Sasheille says. “But, I bet he could tell you just who’s behind Synthcorp’s spectacular and unlikely success. I’m just a zombie drone, remember? The grease in the cogs.”
Kirk’s nasaly and awkwardly loud voice calls out, “I know how to find him! Johnson, that is. He is the one you want to find, right? Because standing around beating that zombie up is a remarkable waste of time, unless you’d rather torture wicked people than finish your job.” Sasheille promptly shuts his mouth, obviously surprised and concerned that the technomancer has awoken from her chemically induced coma. The rest of the crew looks at Kirk, obviously expecting an explanation.
“It’s the Surveillance room. I couldn’t immerse long enough to help, but I caught bits of transmissions from Synthcorp goons about an attack on the surveillance offices. Whoever captures that office can lock this place down tighter than a pickle jar. Frankly I’m surprised you made it this far without it. Actually, no I’m not. You lot are fantastically luckier than you deserve to be.”
4509 keeps his eyes on Seneth during Kirk’s exposition, still crouched by Kirk. Finally he turns to the elf. “Another detour? What a fucking mess.” He stands, flexing the synthetic muscle of his arms. “And if anyone here is lucky, it’s you.” 4509 views the elf in varying spectrums of light before rising and looking to the others, his machine pistols swirling from his arms and into his hands, which get to work reloading them. He patches through to Chaggo’s comm: “If you’re still alive, help is on the way.” Then to the commandos: “Meet us at Chaggo’s position.”
4509 turns his baleful gaze on Sasheille. He approaches the injured elf and lifts him off the ground with one hand. “Give me something worth your life.”
To Kirk:
"Lucky? I think it’s because we’re just that good. Besides, none of us were the one that had to be saved from a life of catatonia and/or being Johnson’s bitch.
“But it’s good to have you back, Kirk. Seriously.”
Upon seeing 4509 accost the elf, Goethe casually observes to Nail, but obviously not really meant for him:
“Normally, I’d be trying to stop him from killing him, but what do I know. I’m just a cross between a roach and a disobedient dog.”
To 4509:
“When you’re done playing with your new chew toy, we should really get going. Chaggo’s group is unlikely to be able to hold out much longer Oh, and when you’re done with him, if you’ve decided to leave him conscious, shove a sock up his piehole. We don’t need him calling for help.”
Goethe will then tape the rest of the synthcorp agents mouths shut.
To the Kirk/Goethe exchange, Nail merely replies with a quick “Yeah.” After Goethe finishes talking and starts taping the agent’s mouths shut, Nail speaks. “Hey, save some of that tape for yourself, Goethe,” he wisecracks, standing up from his smoke break. “Well, if we’re finished saving our game, let’s blow this checkpoint and keep moving.”
The elf doesn’t dare struggle. His previous taunting tone is gone; replaced with subdued pleading.
“I don’t know where Johnson is,” the elf says. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”
4509 doesn’t bother responding, but simply grabs the elf’s neck and squeezes.
“Wait, wait!” Sasheille says, but his voice trails off as his windpipe closes.
“Hold on,” Donovan interrupts. “I think this maggot has something to say.”
4509 releases the pressure on Sasheille’s neck, and the elf gasps painfully. “I can help you capture the surveillance office,” he says in between choking breaths. “I’ll order some Synthcorp agents away as we arrive, to thin their numbers before you attack. If I do, will you let me walk away?”
“We’re not taking you with us. You either offer me something you can deliver now or you die.”
Sasheille can’t help but attempt to negotiate.
“If I make the order now, by the time you get there Synthcorp will have discovered I have been compromised, and will surely defend the offices even more vigorously. Surely I am no threat to you bound and guarded, right?”
4509 rends through Sasheille’s chest with his armblade, the reflective, chromed weapon exploding through the elf’s back. The cyborg retracts his blade and tosses the lifeless corpse aside without ceremony: There is no significance in the man’s death to him.
He makes his way towards the surveillance offices, machine pistols primed to go.
As Goethe sees the vatjob mercilessly kill the elf, he can’t help but blanch a bit. Goethe’s seen his share of death, and even been the deliverer of it on plenty of occasions, but 4509 takes it to a different level.
*What do you think of the vatjob now, Chummer? Anyone with humanity left in them will still be somewhat awed by the experience of taking someone’s life, no matter how desensitized one has trained oneself to be. But this vatjob kills without conscience. It comes as natural to him as breathing. That’s just unnatural. It’s not even a question of deserving, since no doubt the elf had it coming long ago. But unlike Johnson, who needs to be put down before he puts us down, the Elf didn’t seem to be any long-term threat. Interesting that Elf called your bluff for the most part. Not many usually do. But he cooperated for the most part anyway, so there was reason to take it further. Unless you’re 4509 apparently. Also interesting that the Elf started begging for his life once he realized that 4509 really would kill him. I guess there’s something to be said for being inhuman. People certainly fear you.
Of course, it was rather stupid of him to try to negotiate for his life. Since he didn’t offer to really help us until his death was imminent, it’s likely he would have betrayed us at the opportune moment if we had taken him with us. Don’t ask a runner to believe you’re not a threat because you’re restrained. We know better.
So at least the vatjob still hasn’t killed anyone in your presence that didn’t deserve it or didn’t ask for it by being stupid or both. But still, as useful of an ally as he is, is this really the type of person you want to consider running with after this job?
But enough introspection for now, you’ve got a job to do.*
Goethe follows 4509 toward the surveillance offices.
As 4509 guts the defenseless elf, Nail instinctively blanches and turns away while crying, “Ah man, he was kinda fun!” Before following Goethe, he stands over the bloodied corpse, looks down at it for a few moments, and mutters, “What a waste.”
The group leaves one Synthcorp agent alive, but bound. Together, the crew makes their way toward Chaggo and the team assaulting the surveillance office. Ominously, there have been no recent comlink transmissions from the ork adept.
Donovan has taken the duty of carrying the tiny elf technomancer Kirk. She is still too weak to walk on her own. Darwin dutifully follows the pair.
“Synthcorp is sure to find the virus chip soon,” Donovan says. “What do we do about the security drones, which are about to get a lot nastier?”
“Shush,” Kirk snaps. She is immersing, and can not devote concentration to a more thorough verbal lashing.
As the group approaches the elevator on the 14th floor, the door to the elevator opens before them. Instictively, the group readies their weapons as the first flash of chrome comes from the other side. Kirk snaps back into “meat space” reality moments before the group unleashes a volley of destruction upon the heavy assault drone inside the elevator.
“Don’t shoot it, you brutes!” Kirk scolds. “Honestly! Is violence your very first reaction to every situation?”
The heavy assault drone is built in a vaguely human shape, with heavy treads instead of feet. With one chrome plated arm, the drone makes a short gesture to the group, clearly meant to invite them in. The group enters, and as the elevator car goes up, Kirk seems particularly pleased with herself.
“You like him?” Kirk squeals delightfully. “I’m going to name him Solomon. Sol for short. He’s a prototype Synthcorp combat drone who can’t do anything useful except break things. Kind of like you guys, now that I think about it!”
The surveillance offices are on the 35th floor. As the elevator doors open, the group finds a group of 8 men with weapons ready, pointed at them. Chaggo is leading them, and looks much worse for wear. He’s bleeding from a bullet wound that has pierced the left side of his chest, and was partially healed through magic. His face is covered in grime. The men around him look just as bad. They are all humans, decorated with facial war paint, bare chested, with body tattoos identifying them as members of the Chinook nation. Two of them are wearing jewelry and fetishes identifying them as tribal shamans.
Chaggo is silent for a moment as he surveys the similarly-battered group in the elevator.
Each of the characters wearing a comlink receives an error message from their machines, indicating their signals are being jammed, and use of their comlinks is impossible. Well, that explains the lack of recent communication.
“Nice robot,” Chaggo says.
4509 inconspicuously captures image stills and records biometric data of all the Chinook warriors, particularly the shamans, as he steps from the elevator. “Who’s jamming us?”
Goethe to 4509:
"While electronics and tech aren’t exactly my area of expertise, I’ll take a wild guess and say that it’s Synthcorp that’s jamming us. What do I win?
“But seiriously, I’m guessing if we take out the surveillance room, we’ll probably find our comms working again.”
To Chaggo:
“Good to see you guys were able to hold out. If we take this room, we’ll have eyes on the entire complex. It looks like you’ve run into similar resistance as we have. What do you know about the forces protecting the surveillance room? How many are there? What resources do they have?”