“They aren’t going to have men posted with RPGs on helicopter-duty. Just fly in, drop us and fly out.”
“They might not have men posted for an aerial infiltration, but they’re no doubt well-armed enough that they have some RPG’s or such on hand. And it only takes one well-placed shot.”
4509’s said all he has to and doesn’t participate in any further discussion on the matter, keeping his rifle trained on the city below.
In an agitated whisper, Sinthia says, “Whatever. I don’t care what we do as long as we do it. Someone just decide and we’ll go.”
“Alright then,” Rescigno says, “It’s decided. You’ll land outside of RIP turf.”
Goethe watches 4509, but doesn’t see any sign of protest from the cyborg. It’s almost eerie how quickly he dropped the issue.
Moments later, the helicopter comes to rest at an intersection marking Rot Iron Punk territory. Goethe is the first one out the side of the copter. “Don’t show any weakness,” Goethe says to the others. “Worst thing you can do is look like prey to these thugs.” He glances at Sinithia, who seems despondent, lonely, and depressed. “Especially you,” he mutters.
“Hands up, mutt!” a growling voice orders. Even through the turbulence of the helicopter rotors, the voice is loud and powerful. An assault rifle is trained on Goethe, lazily held in the hands of an incredibly large and muscled ork with a gigantic purple mohawk. The ganger looks like a caricature of his race, with bulging shoulders, pecs, and biceps stretching out a too-small tank top shirt.
“You first,” Goethe says. He doesn’t raise his own weapon, but he isn’t backing down either. The big ork is flanked by two normal-sized gangers with assault rifles. For a moment, it seems like the big one will just shoot Goethe and be done with it, until 4509, Nail, Nightshade, and Sinthia also exit the copter.
“There’s no fuckin’ way you’re taking a step on to our turf,” the ork says, clearly sizing up the cyborg as he speaks. “Take your tin-man and scram back to whatever corp’s payin’ you. You’ve got nothin’ we want.”
The Punk ambassador seems uninterested in negotiation. The crew outnumbers the RIP welcome committee, but they’re still clearly not afraid of a fight.
4509’s long-distance rifle is packed up by the time the chopper lands and the cyborg doesn’t hesitate in making landfall from the vehicle. Unaffected by the wind and noise from the rotors he makes his way towards the welcome party, pistols spinning from his arms and into his hands.
Uninterested in the ork’s threat, 4509 cuts him off and trains both weapons on him as he stalks forward. This ork wouldn’t be the biggest thing 4509’s killed by far and the cyborg briefly wonders if he’d put on as big a show if he knew it. “You’re letting us pass.”
Goethe will use physical intimidation with a point of edge for the below. He’s not intending to come across as threatening in any way. Because Goethe isn’t making a threat. He fully means everything he’s saying. There is no menace behind his words, just matter-of-factness from a guy with little to lose who fully intends to follow through on what he says. He’s not going to back down. He’s not going to leave. He’s going into that turf or he’s dying here. It’s that simple.
"I really don’t advise you piss the cyborg off. I’ve seen him detonate a plasma grenade at point blank range between him and a dragon. And as you can see, he’s still here. As for the dragon? Well, the less said the better.
"As far as crawling back to the corp that hired us, well that’s going to be hard for most of us. Only two are actually working for the corp. The rest of us have our own reasons for being here. It’d be nice to get a nice bonus from the corp in the end, but I’m not expecting it and I didn’t contract for it. I’m here for personal reasons, one of which is the people we’re working against–if you can even call them people–have already murdered a close friend of mine and would have tried for me next. I’ve been a dead-man walking for a while now, so I got little to lose. And I plan to go out on my own terms, not theirs. It’s interesting the perspective one gets in these types of situations. So I’m willing to die for my cause, and I’ll take anyone with me who gets in my way. I can’t speak for the others as such, but you’ll find they’ll express similar sentiments. So the way I see it, we can fight this out, which will likely end bad for both of our sides, regardless of who wins in the end. And even if you win, you have to realize we’ll do enough damage to you that the vampires we’re after will have that much easier of a job taking your merry little gang out and claiming the turf.
"Yeah, you heard me. Vampires. I honestly wish I was bullshitting you. Of course, if you’re working with them, we’ll probably have to wipe out your group anyway, but I doubt you are, because they know we’re coming, and they wouldn’t have sent out this small of a welcome wagon.
"We really have no desire for your turf; I doubt you’ll find the vampires feel the same way, after all, they already claimed a piece of it to make their HQ. Say what you want about the corp I’m working with, at least it’s run by metahumans and not plague-ridden abominations out to remake the world in their own twisted image.
"So it’s your call. We’re not asking for anything more than passage to this corp to take them down, and then passage back for whoever survives. We will accept any level of escort you want to give us. Our beef is not with you unless you want to make it that way.
“I’m ready to die for my cause, right here if necessary. Can you say the same? You might even take me out, but the rest of this team will obliterate you before you can even call for help and then the rest of your gang as well if you try to stop us.”
“So what’s it going to be?”
“No one about what happens anymore, anyway,” Sinthia mutters to herself…and yet oddly loud enough for others to hear.
She raises her arms and begins to mutter what sounds like a spell.
“Heat” is the only word anyone can understand.
**Sinthia is preparing a massive fireball attack. She is waiting to see how Goethe’s intimidation goes. She will likely use 1 point of Edge in her attack if it goes forward. **
Goethe and 4509 have each had a small amount of success intimidating the Rot Iron Punk, although the hardened street thug would never admit it.
The ork glances between his fellow gangers. Goethe reads the body language like an open book; the thug is nervous.
“Ain’t afraid of vampires,” the ork says. “Ain’t afraid of 'borgs, neither,” he says a bit less convincingly as his eyes briefly dart toward 4509. “But we Punks are businessmen. Looks like we got something you want, but nothing’s free. You want an evening bein’ a tourist in Punk turf? The price is your 'copter.”
Nail chips in. “You’ve got a deal, handsome,” he says eagerly.
“Wasn’t finished,” the ork continues. “The price is your 'copter, and your 'borg.” Even 4509 is taken by surprise by the ork’s demand.
“Not a chance,” Goethe says reflexively. “He’s not an object. We can’t just trade him.”
“Well, technically…” Nail says.
“Shut up,” Goethe snaps back.
The ork clarifies his demand. “Not forever, see. We just need a front man enforcer for an…operation…we got planned against the fairies on 72nd. Mean lookin’ thing like your tin-man would probably jump at the chance to hurt some elves, amirite?” As he speaks, he turns toward 4509, clearly addressing the last part toward the cyborg. “What do you think, tin-man? Finish up whatever revenge bullshit you got goin’ on, and then join the Punks for a few days? Or you could kill me and my boys, and have a thousand angry orks pissin’ on your corpses tonight.”
“You aren’t getting me or the vehicle. You’re letting us pass or you die.”
The ork holds his ground, at first. “You sure?” he says gruffly. “Wouldn’t want you to do something you’ll regret.” In response, 4509 simply walks past him.
“You just made the biggest mistake of your life, chum,” the ork says to 4509’s back. Goethe catches a murderous note in the ork’s tone, but surprisingly the beefy ganger with the wild mohawk stows his rifle and backs away.
“Jazzy, Blitz,” the ork says, addressing his two allies by name. “Let’s bounce. Yer borin’ our new friends to death.” The two normal-sized orks exchange a mutinous glance, but eventually follow their leader’s command and lower their own weapons. The ork trio starts to walk away.
Nightshade considers the orks thoughtfully as they depart. “You know this isn’t over, right?” she points out to the rest of the crew. “Seems like a future problem we can solve right now, if you know what I mean.”
Nail shakes his head. “You really want to shoot them in the back?”
Nightshade shrugs. “Why not?”
The ork chief and his crew have retreated, for now. Anyone who wants to get a bit more blood on their hands has a chance to attack the gangers with a surprise initiative pass.
They let their guard down. Odd. They must know we can destroy the three of them without even breaking a sweat, so why give us the opportunity. What’s their game? Maybe they think you’re too honorable to shoot someone in the back. Awfully large gamble to take. There’s got to be more to it. Guess there’s only one way to find out…
As the trio walks away, Geothe raises his Assault rifle and taking aim at the leader shouts to him:
"Hold up. I can see if I can get you the chopper. I can’t make any guarantees, but I’ll talk to the guy who owns it. If he’s willing to part with it, it’s yours after we complete our mission. However, if you attack us, all bets are off. This means if you want to make the cyborg here part of the deal, well, you’ll have to have that out with him. That’s the best I can do.
"Besides, you might not be afraid of vampires, but these guys are trying to find a way to cyber themselves. As you can see from 4509 here, cyborgs aren’t much for making deals. You think the cybervamps will be any better? You think they’re not going to start turning your gang into cyberghouls, slaves to their every whim?
“It costs you almost nothing to give us passage through your turf, and additionally, you stand to get your own chopper out of it. I suggest you think real hard before you turn this down. Of course, if I can’t get the chopper, well, I guess we might as well just fight it out. Because you’ve already made your position clear. And we can’t let you leave if we don’t come to some agreement. You and your gang want to fight us, we start it right here and now. You will not leave here alive.”
Goethe waits to see what the leader does. If he keeps on walking, Goethe will open a full burst into him. If the leader pauses instead, Geothe will call Rescigno on the commlink, keeping an eye on the gangers for any surprise moves.
“Rescigno. We got a bit of an issue here. The only chance we have of not having to fight our way through the gang turf is to give them the helicopter when we’re done here. They also want to borrow 4509 for a bit. He told them they weren’t getting either him or the helicopter. While what 4509 does on his own time none of us really have any control over, giving them the chopper is something you can authorize. And I suggest you do it. Consider a cost of doing business in the shadows. Because if we want to take these followers of the Dark down, we’re going to need all the resources we can have. I really don’t want to be wasting bullets here on a fight that even with us winning, we still lose.”
4509 waits for word from Rescigno before continuing.
The ork has already been humiliated in front of his minions. When Goethe yells at him to wait, the ork simply waves him off with a dismissive gesture. “You know our price, mutt.”
Rescigno says via comlink, “I don’t like how this is going down. The 'copter means nothing to UO, but it alone doesn’t seem to be enough. You’re on your own. 4509 won’t be UO property after this mission, so I can’t promise his service.”
Over a channel only 4509 can hear, Rescigno says, “For once in your goddamned life, why don’t you sacrifice for the greater good? You kill The Dark and you’re a free man, just like I promised. Looks like this gang will even let you run amok, killing to your heart’s desire anyway. Why not make the deal?”
After receiving Rescigno’s private communication, 4509 considers, motionless and silent. Finally he gives Goethe a small nod.
Gothe again addresses the leader:
"The chopper’s all yours. And it appears that the cyborg is willing to lend you his services as well. Though, I really gotta wonder if you truly know what you’re in for by hiring him. He doesn’t exactly play well with others.
“But it’s not my problem. We’ve put up our part of the contract. It’s time for you to put up yours.”
Goethe holsters his rifle and walks off following the gangers.
“Let’s go.” he says to the rest of the team.
Why can’t people check their egos at the door when making business deals. The world would move much smoother…
The ork stops and turns around. “That’s what I like to hear,” he says. His minions Jazzy and Blitz look up at the giant ork with awe at his negotiation skill. Nail is profoundly annoyed, and mutters under his breath.
“Alright chums, here’s how this is gonna’ work. You want to cross RIP turf? You get an escort. You’re gonna see my pretty mug til’ you’re off my property. You show me where we’re going, I’ll walk you there, we cap some some vamps, then I walk you back. How you get home is your own problem, 'cept the 'borg. He stays. Any questions?”
“Yeah. What do we call you?” Nail says. “I was thinking ‘hey you,’ but I’m flexible.”
The ork laughs at Nail. “Call me Pop.”
“Pop? Your parents must have been so proud,” Nail says.
“What parents?” Pop replies. “Alright, enough jabberin’. We got work to do.” Pop nods toward Jazzy and Blitz and says, “Go show the boss our new toy.”
The helicopter rotors begin to turn even before the two smaller orks board. One of them must be a technomancer, Goethe realizes. Pretty sophisticated for a street thug. Soon the 'copter lifts off and zips away, leaving the crew alone with Pop the mohawked ork.
Pop makes a nodding gesture toward RIP turf behind him. “We ready?”
Geothe responds.
“Yeah, I think we’re ready. By the way, the name’s Goethe. I’ll let the others introduce themselves if they’re so inclined.”
Sinthia has lowered her arms, realizing that they will advance with no fight.
She sits down on the ground and lowers her head. It’s hard to see, but it’s pretty obvious her eyes are closed. Her legs are pulled up to her chest.
Is she praying? Crying? …sleeping? Who knows?
4509 is ready to go. He doesn’t introduce himself.