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Abby sends a message of confirmation, then heads to an ego caster asap.
Need to get out of here. Venus is just as bad as home now.
[You're being dramatic, Abigail. Things are not that bad.]
No? I have a PI stalking me, and the only candidate I can think of is my family. It's pretty bad.
Proxy hummed in acknowledgement, but did not say more.

Upon awaking post-egocast, she checked to make sure everything was per her request, and noticed her feet were wrong. Again. This time she had prehensile feet for sure, but instead of the hand-like feet she was used to, she had an odd configuration where there were three longer toes in the front and a shorter one where here heel was. It was almost as if someone had tried to recreate neo-avian feet on a human. She spent a solid minute just frowning and flexing her feet. Eventually she spoke up.
"Yasmin, what the fuck is this?" She asked, gesturing to her feet.
Yasmin did not answer, because she wasn't there. Abby took note of this fact, and frowned deeper. She got up and tried to move, stumbling over her new feet at first. Eventually she got the hang of it, got dressed, and floated out of the small room to find her handler.
 
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The Peculiar Taste of Silence
In the strange way that simple physics manages to achieve, rotational gravity takes hold of everyone in the elevator, Mach and his bouncer friend included. She settles on her prehensile feet, the 0.4g just a little heavier than the Martian standard but hardly difficult, before the car clamps into place and opens out into the cylinder. The sensory assault from the moveable festival that is the Silence’s central cylinder spills into the car: laser lights, the stench of drugs and alcohol, blaring music ranging from Lunar bhangra to Martian pop to autonomist punk rock mix with the din of high times through the gravitated halls that the bouncer carrying Mach steps out into.

The bouncer - currently only broadcasting an @-rep profile identifying her as EamaliatMutanaghima at rep level 1 - carries Mach down the small maze of alleys and hallways. Doorways open to provide glimpses of exotic bodies in biolabs, elaborate designs in neo-tattoo parlors, raucous dance halls where shouts of ecstasy ring out over pounding music, red market stalls where anything can be for sale to the right buyer; a thousand pleasures can be found here, in the party that never ends.

Morphs of all shapes and sizes are on display as well, some more literally than others: neo-hominids and neo-avians share space with exotic looking synthmorphs, swarmanoids, and at least one instance that, even with their laid-back posture and transhuman morphs hanging off its arms, could easily be taken for an exhuman predator with its frightening face and powerful musculature. Everyone seems some kind of pleased to be here - even as the sight of a wrecked fighting kite being carried by a bouncer draws curious looks.
The bouncer turns and enters one of the rooms: traces of metal shavings in the air hint that this is a machine shop of some kind, but Mach’s perspective is out to the hall, in the corridors where the life of the party rolls ever-onward, before the door shuts behind them.

“Ah, there you are! Did you bring my patient with you?” Asks the hoarse voice of a neo-raven, translated from french with a barger patois.
“Yes,” the bouncer answers, swinging what remains of the chassis around and holding it in her arms for the neo-raven to see: perched on the work-table overlooking a cyberlimb, the neo-raven’s morph - about the same size as the fighting kite - is augmented considerably with cybernetics, but the bat-like feathered wings of a neo-raven remain in place with a sheen from the machine shop light. A desktop cornucopia machine hums away in the corner, fabricating some kind of unknown supplies for the machinist’s purposes, with supplies and tools scattered around the room in an organization that could generously be described as biological.
The neo-avian turns their head one way and the other with the rapid motion common to avian-kind, clicking softly as they observe and take notes, Mach’s enhanced vision picking out cybernetics within the neo-raven’s eyes that zoom and enhance the nature of the damage.

“...yes, extensive damage from high-energy particle impact and explosive-thermal warping. Indeed the work of a particle beam bolter - taken from close range. You weren’t kidding when you said it was bad, I see that now. This is more along the lines of a reconstruction than repair…”
“How long?”
The neo-raven clicks to themself as they inspect the damage some more, calculating the time to themself: “...about thirty-nine hours, assuming a well-supplied shop and either repair spray or nanofabricator access to create the appropriate parts.”
“Hmm…” The bouncer grunts, setting Mach’s chassis on the table to inspect him herself. Half a minute passes, the two of them looking Mach over, occasionally exchanging a glance.
“Saddiq,” the bouncer starts, “I believe we are in a position to help one another. You may call me Yasmin, and this is Scirocco.”
“Would that we’d met under better circumstances, Marcus Speidwagon,” Scirocco comments.

“Now then, Marcus - I would dare to say you are...I believe the term is “in deep shit” with whomever your employer is. I doubt your meeting was supposed to end like this. I’m going to have to cut to the chase on this: we may be able to help you, but we’re going to need you to help us in turn.”

Yasmin pauses for an instant before continuing: “The scum don’t get in the habit of interfering with red markets around here if it can be helped, but troubling rumors about that ship you were trying to visit have come to light, and so in exchange for assistance with your body we would ask what it is you can tell us about your contact and what you were supposed to be acquiring from that ship. If what has been suggested is true, then you could be in much deeper shit than you bargained for.”

Rushing Jaws

“Whoa-ha-ha holy fuck - you sure weren’t kidding about being covered in sequins!” Rushing Jaws exclaims as he floats into view of his comrades, his fury towering over the other two morphs between its natural height and the bodybank’s microgravity. “Fuck dude, I’m loving the look.”

“A scum barger if ever I saw one, and- oh, fuck yeah!” He exclaims again, taking a offered muffin from Devin’s supply and a bulb of chifir still hot to the touch. Biting into the muffin brings a smile to his face as Rushing Jaws starts kicking off one end of the corridor to the other in lazy corkscrews, a secret hope that the treat is laced with some good scum drugs to take the edge off his continuity shock but happy to have the muffin and tea all the same. Spiked or not, the snacks give Rushing Jaws - or the woman with his memories - a reason to smile.

“This is just the fuckin thing after a bullshit resleeve - you are saving my life right now,” Rushing Jaws comments through a bite of the muffin on his latest pass; nodding to the bag of gear, he says: “Gimme a sec and I’ll take a look at getting us set up.”

Arresting his momentum next to Devin, Rushing Jaws takes the bag and inspects the assorted equipment, switching to the TacNet chat that boots up and syncs between the trio’s mesh inserts: [Okay, looks like we got light vacsuits, submachine guns, and pistols - with about three spare clips per weapon - for each of us. Good haul, Devin. Anyone try to get in touch with Atreides Apogee while we’ve been waiting?]

Just then, a message arrives for the three sentinels over the Eye.

Atreides Apogee {PM to Azathothwakes, Hara, and Heliotrope}: [Apologies for the delayed contact - something’s come up that required my personal attention. I’ll need you to collect Abigail Hammond, who should be sleeving up as we speak (look for an Exalt with prehensile feet, tell her you are with Yasmin Al-Rundi), and begin investigating our mysterious dealer. I shall be along as soon as I can - I’ll contact you when I know more.]

Azathothwakes: [Well shit, that answers that question. Suppose we should figure out what song we’re gonna sing to get Abby to come along, then be on our way.]
 
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"I was so stoned when I cast out I think I'm astral projecting directly from 2070," Vidar chimed in as Rj voiced their opinion on their own shitty re sleeve.

Viddy took a swig of the chifir watching Rj do micro gravity laps. Rj was a big presence and one he was glad to have today- it was hard to stay melancholic when beautiful orca woman was singing the praises of sequins and muffins. He was staring, but at this point these two knew he was weird and he suposed it hardly mattered. He pulled up the local mesh and decided to start looking for the traffic that would indicate what they were looking for. He gave a moment of thought to the vac suits when they were revealed. He had chameleon skin installed at the moment and that would be put to best effect in his birthday suit. He focused on his hands, made himself the same shade of matte pink as his jump suit and then back. He had honestly been expecting it be more of a mental hurdle. This was going to be a wild run.

He read the message from Atreides Apogee . This was an opsec nightmare.

Heliotrope: [Lets hope she doens't put two and two together that were the same norwegian and orca hanging out with the last member of the Dropkick Murphys that she beat break out crisis with. or she's definitely not going to buy the art dealer cover.]

He finished off his muffin, having stress devoured it.

"Devin, I love you, but these were regular muffins weren't they?" He said in disappointment. He rather liked the the soft hollow way his voice worked in this morph.
 
Mach Infinity
Jack cup Track 2: Silence.
Mach-B wasn't happy. 32 hours until this Kite was operational. OtherMach could be done and gone in two. Two hours! He almost went off, but... 'Whoever your employer is'... That sounded wrong.
"Whoever?... Okay I'm gonna assume this is a secure room, but if you don't know who I work for, you aren't with anyone I know, 'cept maybe some Guanxi contacts. And much as I love my brothers and sisters in crime, I got no clue if I can trust you with anything I know. You talk about your boss, maybe I can say something about mine. Also, I need to be operational way faster than 32 fucking hours, so I might need to rent something. Hell, if you got anything in here you can get running in thirty or less, I'd like a look."

While Mach was talking, he fired off a few messages. The first went out to the Barge Guard with the Pod on loan.
[Hey. You said you had a spare pod, right? Could I rent that and some muscle? Someone shot my kite to bits, and something tells me they aren't being cool and kosher with anyone else, either.]
The second was sent from his Guanxi profile... TO his Guanxi profile.
[So, you a fake, a fork, or an idiot? Pick two, Asshole.]
 
Vidar sifted quickly through the local mesh, searching the hashtags for newcomers and problems makers and cross referencing it with the most recent ships docked to the peculiar silence. And what he found was reflected by the tremendous face journey he went on as he discovered one Marcus Spiedwagon was at the heart of the deal. He tossed the footage of Marcus eating laser to Penny to gif while he organized his findings into words and with links to sources.

Heliotrope: [Guess who is also here. it's a reunion. ] {Insert gif} [Mr. Speidwagon came here to seal a deal and ate shit just out said the Annora Arabella; a private courier. So that narrows down who our art dealer is I think. Two other ships of note came to port; Mammoth Apostle is set to head back to earth with the swarm, but the Palindromeemordnilap is a bit of a wild card, it could go anywhere from here at any time. But what ever they got on the Annora Arabella has to go some where to get anywhere you know, so my bet is one of these two are here for pick up. You know anything about these ships Devin?]

Heliotrope{Pm to Atreides Apogee}: Would your personal business happen to involve Mr. Speidwagon?
 
The Peculiar Taste of Silence

Yasmin and Scirocco share another look, saying nothing for a pause, before Yasmin concedes: “I suppose that is a fair request.”

“Scirocco is a mercurial and a resident of the swarm - merely an associate of mine who could repair your kite for you, having nothing else to do with this. I’m here acting on behalf of the Argonauts: we don’t exactly have ‘bosses’ per se, but we do have people concerned about the proliferation of exceptionally dangerous technology or threats to transhuman life. I have come out here to see what I can do to prevent either.”

“I have to say you’re lucky to even be here to talk with us,” Sirocco comments upon hearing Mach’s request for quick assistance with his resleeve, “with how severely damaged your morph is: a stray solar wind would fry what’s left of your circuitry. Reconstructing your morph is going to take some time, regardless of method.”

“Now, if you want to resleeve, that we might be able to accommodate,” Yasmin chimes in. “It may not be optimal, but I know of at least one spare worker borg I can have borrowed for you to sleeve; I believe we could even access an ego bridge to facilitate the process. I would be drawing on my own reputation to get these things for you, and I must again ask something of you in turn.”

Turning to Scirocco, she asks: “may I borrow the relative privacy of your shop for a moment?”

“It’s about time for me to look for lunch anyways!” Scirocco proclaims, opening his wings and leaping from the table to glide to the doorway, landing just as the door opens. “I’ll be back in fifteen - don’t have too much fun without me!”

“Excuse Scirocco,” Yasmin says as the door closes behind the neo-raven, “he can be inappropriate at times. Now then, if it is a secure channel you want, wait just a moment-”

Meter detects a ping from Yasmin’s own personal area network, and works to establish a link - the process somewhat hampered by the damaged inserts of Mach’s morph but holding steady with some work. Yasmin’s sight is out of focus in the way one’s is when someone is using their entoptics.

Atreides Apogee: {PM to Heliotrope}: [Yes. Could help us; could also be major liability. Will update later. Continue search.]

Meter scans the connection for any malicious data or programs, as does Yasmin’s muse on the far end of the connection: both muses return a code green and complete the handshake without incident.

[There we are! This ought to grant us a measure of security], Yasmin transmits. [Now then, to the present matter: if you want my help with a morph, I am going to need information about who’s ship that is and the contents of its cargo. I don’t want you to risk your ego by leaking information about your employer, but lives hang in the balance of knowing what is on that ship - quite possibly including your own - so I must ask you to consider your answer quickly.]

Just then, the response from the scum from earlier lands, addressed from an @-Rep profile named AlegríaDeLosEnjambres.

[¡Eyyyyy cabrón! Saw you got fucked up real good - warned you about fuckin around on the barge essé!! ?? I dunno bout no borg morphs, sure I could find something if it’s worth that much to you. We’re keeping an eye on those boys, they mostly keeping to themselves after that belleza shot one of them up - why, you wanna round up a group and start more shit? Sure you could find some bois around here who’d be up to it if you’re good for your word. Issa scum barge, ask the right people and you’ll find what you’re lookin’ for.]

Shortly afterward, Meter reports a glitch in Mach’s Guanxi messaging: an upstream anomaly of some kind allowed a message to get through, from Mach’s own profile.

{[ERROR]}: [Apparently you’re the fake - and the idiot too, seeing as how you’re the one with a junked morph. You’re in way over your head, rookie: fuck off back to Hyperdrive where second place gets you a winpin instead of shot.]
 
After waiting for a few minutes with no one coming to get her, Abby exited the body bank entirely, and made her way to the entrance proper.
Proxy, send a message to Yasmin.
[Sure! What should I say?]
"I am here, where the fuck are you?" I really don't want to float around some scum barge by myself.
 
"We got shit to do, man, I'm not babysitting you," Devin complained. "I'll get you super fucked up after." The way things usually went for them, he had no intention of any of helping any of them get stoned.

At Vidar's second question, he said, "I don't know shit, my dude. But I know someone who does. Give me a sec."

the Magpie{pm to Venetian Knife Fight}: Hey, you know anything about the Palindromeemordnilap, the Annora Arabella, and the Mammoth Apostle??
Venetian Knife Fight {pm to the Magpie}: I thought you were on Locus what the hell
the Magpie: I N E V E R said I was going to Locus!!!!!!
Venetian Knife Fight: interesting
Venetian Knife Fight: So
Venetian Knife Fight: The Mammoth Apostle's a long-range freighter. They're basically scum anyway, and they're planning on sticking around. Pretty big. 1100 I think? Got a shit ton of fabber blueprints and tech from outsystem. Know how to work it. Glad we're not in competition tbh
Venetian Knife Fight: The Palindromeemordnilap are autonomist smugglers. Mostly they move shit like drugs and nanofabrcators to hypercorp habs in the inner system. They're great. 2 of them bailed out of corp indentures. 3 died in the Fall. (Maybe you know them??) Great at drinking, bad at cards, fyi. We need to ruin them before they take off. Shouldn't be too long. They showed up light on cargo and heavy on cred and rep, and they're gonna go off to bring toys to the naughty little hypercorp children as soon as they're stocked.
Venetian Knife Fight: The Annora Arabella literally just got here. Came in real quiet, and it's keeping it that way. Which mean's it's DEFINITELY full of dangerous goodies, and everyone on Guanxi's dying to find out what it is.
Venetian Knife Fight: have your last two brain cells rubbed together to come up with a plot?
the Magpie: I have THREE brain cells thanks
the Magpie: also you're not invited to my plot
Venetian Knife Fight: but your bootycall from Locus is?
Venetian Knife Fight: very interesting
Venetian Knife Fight: Kostya's going to be so mad that you invited him and didn't tell us.
the Magpie: Thanks GOOD BYE
Venetian Knife Fight: (: (: (:

Devin relayed the information on the ships to Vidar and RJ, and then leaned over as someone entered the body bank's entrance the inside. They had...bird feet?

"You must be Abby," Devin said, and wondered if she'd recognize them. She wasn't stupid, and Vidar was right. They were pretty damned memorable. "Yasmin asked us to meet you. She had something come up, so she's running a smidge behind. I'm Devin. Welcome to the Peculiar Taste of Silence. Would you like a muffin?"
 
"They're just regular muffins," Vidar added, in English, both as warning and reassurance.
 
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"Devin, you dork. We've met already. I see you were right about owning a beard. I didn't know you were with the Argonauts as well, though," she said, before looking to the other two. "Hi, I am Abigail Hammond. Please call me Abby though. Yes, most of the rumors about me are true, so go ahead and get your questions out of the way."
[Abigail, you may seem a little self absorbed.]
Don't I usually though? Might as well get the tedious stuff out of the way.
 
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"Hello," Vidar said, "I've never heard anything about you before in my life. I'm Tuesday. Argonauts arn't usually my shebang, but I'm in art collective out on locus and Yasmin called me in for a favor. Something about some art deal?" He said.
 
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Mach Infinity
Lap 2
Mach couldn’t be-fucking-lieve this. Autonomists against TITANs. The only worse people to tell about the purchase would be actual Sentinels. So...

[Hm. I dunno, I’ll need a minute to mull it over.]
He said to the Autonomist over the network,
[Gray Xu is cutting us out of the deal. Force will be required to obtain the tech, and my morph is barely operational. Permission to use the buying money for a new morph and backup requested.]
He sent to Nerrix.
[So that “Belleza” is trying to very politely hold my stack hostage unless I squeal on my deal. If Y’all can pick me up in the next couple of minutes, I ought to have a ton of creds ready for a morph and some hardy boys. Just be quick, she’s got a fiber optic and I don’t know how long she’ll tolerate me beating around the bush.]
He sent to the barger, along with some details on his current location.
 
Rushing Jaws

[Good fuckin hunting, boys - this is gonna go a long way!]

“Hey Abby,” Rushing Jaws greets once the other introductions are out of the way, starting to kick off the walls in his corkscrews again. “Yasmin Al-Rundi sends her regards, had to miss your meeting on account of what we’re here to do. Name’s Jie. Not exactly an Argonaut myself, but I heard y’all needed help with the job so I figured I’d swim by. I’ll have my muse set up you up on our TacNet, give ‘er a hot second.”

While you’re at it Māzǔpó, need a couple of ads posted.
[What’s up?]
Put an ad up on Guanxi, askin for intel on the Annora Arabella. Put a g in cred up, that ought to lure some prey.
[What’s the other?]
Let’s get our fix. Might need it if this goes feeding frenzy.
[...that’s convenient.]
Now isn’t the time to get on my case about it; we can discuss my drug habits once the job is done.

There is no response from his muse as she gets to work: the ads go up quickly before Māzǔpó and Proxy shake hands prior to copying over the TacNet software and authentication codes to bring Abby aboard. A response to the Guanxi ad is swift in coming, causing Rushing Jaws to chuckle to himself as he opens a chat window on his entoptics. Gesturing to the rest of the squad to follow, Rushing Jaws says: “C’mon, let’s get out of here and start floating the halls. I got some stuff I wanna pick up.”

X1J1F4E7UN: [can tell you about the ship.]
BR04DS1D3_NO92: [Yeah?]
X1J1F4E7UN: [Annora Arabella. It’s Night Cartel.]
Rushing Jaws whistles to himself as the squad floats their way into the main passage into the Silence.
BR04DS1D3_NO92: [No kidding.]
X1J1F4E7UN: [you want more? pay me.]
BR04DS1D3_NO92: [Got your bank account, chilong - payable on delivery.]
X1J1F4E7UN: [head bitch is Gray Xu, here for the cartel. got several buyers lined up, some already come and gone. some left, opening the rest of the stock soon to players]
BR04DS1D3_NO92: [whats the goods?]
X1J1F4E7UN: [real hot shit. no one who knows is talking - everyone else is talking shit. buyers all bigshots, lots of cred to throw around.]
BR04DS1D3_NO92: [how long’s Xu here for?]
X1J1F4E7UN: [till their stock runs out. another couple of days, probably?]
BR04DS1D3_NO92: [selling fast?]
X1J1F4E7UN: [fast as the buyers are lining up.]
BR04DS1D3_NO92: [where are they coming from?]
X1J1F4E7UN: [pay more, might know]
BR04DS1D3_NO92: [Got what I need. The g’s yours. Fair winds.]

No sooner does Rushing Jaws close one connection that another opens from the Circle A: his “procurement” ad has been responded to by someone with the handle AlegríaDeLosEnjambres.

AlegríaDeLosEnjambres: [¡Madre de mierda! Rushing fucking Jaws is here! ¿Este es el tiro caliente who fuckin smoked Voynich in the battlespheres??]
Rushing Jaws: [Thats me! ?]
AlegríaDeLosEnjambres: [Amigo, that XP fucked me u p. The way you fuckin juked around Voynich three separate times and shot that cabrón like fish in a barrel? Fuckin legendary.]
Rushing Jaws: [Some of my finest work ?]
AlegríaDeLosEnjambres: [You lookin for some MRDR, essé? Come on over to my pod, I got some tabs for the fuckin war hero - co-ords coming at’chu now.]
Rushing Jaws: [Fuck yeah, ‘be over soon.]

“Hey squad, making a quick stop over for a procurement; Abby, I’ll bring you up to speed over TacNet while we make our way,” Rushing Jaws explains, beckoning the rest of the squad to follow as he follows his AR graphics toward the hookup.

[Okay Abby, here’s the sitrep. You’re here to help us investigate some real dangerous tech. We’re working on figuring out what it is, but since you came recommended for your skills as a hacker we’re gonna have you on electronic overwatch. We’ve got a site and some leads] - Rushing Jaws proceeds to brief the squad on what he learned from X1J1F4E7UN - [so once we get there we’ll probably need you to hack into the Annora Arabella’s network and get ready to throw some switches if shit gets wild. If you can, we’ll likely need you to dig up whatever intel you can from the ship. I’ll keep you posted - ask if you got questions.]

The trip takes closer to ten minutes with the squad’s reasonable pace down the corridors. The AR directions guide Rushing Jaws to a door that opens in time for them to turn the corner: a muscular bouncer with braided hair looks out to them, her face lighting up as she recognizes the rep profile Rushing Jaws transmits to her.

“¡Eyyyyy amigos! You brought friends, even better! C’mon in, we got your stuff!”
“You heard the lady!” Rushing Jaws says with a smile. “What’s your name, friend?”
“Felicia Menendez! C’mon, I wanna show you off to my crew here.”
Wasting no time, Rushing Jaws leads the rest of the squad into the capsule built for four but already housing six: the scum make room for four more, things getting intimate as people clamor onto laps and strap in to keep from floating away in microgravity. Rushing Jaws finds an open spot and nestles in as Felicia draws a small cylinder from her pocket and casts it at him.
“Seven capsules, clean and clear essé,” Felicia proclaims, beaming; Rushing Jaws opens the cap and glances at the contents.
“Fuck yeah, this is good shit. Thanks for the favor, Felicia.”
“Not a problem, amigo. Your friends wanna kick it here? Plenty of room~”
“We’ll take a rain check on that, got some business needs takin’ care of first.”
Felicia doesn’t hide her disappointment, but offers a shrug in return. “Guess we’ll have to smoke weed with the champ and his crew later.”

[Hangin out with scum’s gonna have to wait, we got game afin], Rushing Jaws transmits over TacNet, [we got the intel from our contacts, and all the clues are pointing toward the Annora Arabella. We wanna look into this fiasco with Speidwagon or make a move on the ship?]
 
[Wait. Afin? Swim? Spiedwagon? You guys are the crew from Breakout! What the fuck is going on here? You want me to do a job, I need deets. And don't give me a runaround, I left that "above your paygrade" bullshit behind when I left Mars.] Abby replied over the TacNet, visibly pissed. One person from Breakout was a coincidence. Add the orca and the speed freak, and you had a conspiracy.
Proxy took the opening to speak to Abby privately, [Abigail, calm down. They can still help you achieve your goal of finding the PI stalking you.]
I will not! For all we know they hired the PI! Hell, RJ or Jie, or whatever her name really is, might be the PI!
 
2sday{Group chat}: [Those are the details we have though? This is Yasmins shindig and I for one am not here to let her down. The world is full of conspiracies and this one is pretty mundane it sounds. I think Yasmin will be able to explain when she's done with carboy. She's got Spiedwagon on lock down atm, we should hit the ship.]
 
the Magpie{group chat}: Well, you only survive long enough in a hypercorp to break out of it by being smart and paranoid.
the Magpie: Tragically we're only marginally less confused than you are at the moment. Yasmin's keeping her cards close.
the Magpie: No idea what's Spiedwagon's doing here besides pissing everyone the fuck off tbh.
 
Azathothwakes {PM to Atreides Apogee}: Yasmin? I know you’re busy but Abby’s pissed over here and wants answers we can’t give. Need you to fill her in like you were gonna.

Rushing Jaws {TacNet (group chat)}: [Okay okay alright- Yasmin was supposed to break this down for you, I guess she got tied up and told you to find us. Can’t blame you for being angry right now, I’ll owe you a real couple of drinks later, no matter how this goes. Trying to get in touch with Yasmin as we speak.]

There is a few seconds’ delay between sending the message and receiving the reply. Abigail gets a message over CivicNet just after Rushing Jaws receives an ‘acknowledged’ over the Eye.

Yasmin Al-Rundi {PM to Abigail Hammond}: [Salaam Abigail. I owe you an apology - and an explanation. We are here on behalf of ISET to investigate a cache of dangerous technology. The others can explain the details that they have, but it is believed that criminal elements are seeking to move dangerous technology - weapons and technology created by the TITANs can not be ruled out - into the hands of hypercorp or other criminal elements. You were asked to join by ISET because your hacking abilities are unparalleled. Simply: you are among the very best at what you do, and we need your talents here to ensure this mission’s success. I will join you as soon as I can, as I am trying to contain a situation on my end, but the three operatives you are with can be trusted. They are here to help us resolve this crisis. More answers will come in time, but there is a lot hanging in the balance and I must ask for your trust right now. I am sorry it has broken this way, and will make amends as soon as I can.]

While Abby contemplates her answer, Rushing Jaws posts to the TacNet group chat: [Sounds like we’re on for the Annora Arabella, so we’ll want a plan to get aboard the ship. Multiple ways of approaching this, what are we thinking?]
 
Mach Infinity
You got boost power!
Mach hadn't spent that long on Guanxi. When the message came in, he got to business.

th3R4tK1ng: I hear you're looking to invite some new friends to a party? You're in luck!
SpeedMachZX: If you got a solid crew ready for boarding action, I’m listening.
th3R4tK1ng: Former special ops, my guy. Bring our own party favors and everything.
SpeedMachZX: Sounds like just what I need. If you guys have boarding charges or a plasma cutter mixed in with the rest’o’them favors, and you’re willing to pick up both me and my new morph, I’m sold.
th3r4tk1ng: I’m sure we can bring something to put a smile on your face ;)
SpeedMachZX:... Not looking for the flirtatious type of backup, but I guess this IS a scum barge. Okay, good enough. Sending location details. Pick up the Morph first, please.
th3r4tk1ng: You got it, my dude. See you soon!

And, just like that, Mach had his way out of Yasmin's grasp, and onto Gray Xu's ship. Everything was coming together. Sure, it wasn't perfect, but he couldn't wait to show her that he meant goddamn business, and didn't take kindly to being kidnapped. Of course, Mach didn't realize who th3r4tk1ng was. If he did, he wouldn't be NEARLY this smug or happy. In fact, he'd be pissed.
 
the Magpie{group chat} I am a genius.
the Magpie: Speidwagon is looking to hire mercs to get onto the Annora Arabella with him.
the Magpie: Guess who just got hired?
 
Rushing Jaws {TacNet (group chat)}: fucking superb, you funky little scum barger
Rushing Jaws: way to contain whatever bullshit that was gonna be and get us an in on the Annora Arabella
Rushing Jaws: this is gonna be one for the history books
 
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Manicpixiecyberhacker{TacNet}:Yeah, okay, fine. One condition, though. After this job, you guys help me with a problem of my own. Now what do you need me to do?

AbigailH{to Yasmin Al-Rundi}: I will help, but after this, we are having a long talk about what constitutes need to know when dealing with me.
 
Yasmin Al-Rundi {PM to AbigailH}: [That is more than fair - you will have earned some answers by the end of this. You could make a big difference out here, Abigail.]

---

Rushing Jaws {TacNet}: [Fuckin a', sounds like a deal to me.]
Rushing Jaws {TacNet}: [As for what we need you to do right now - you're on electronic overwatch. Keep tabs on our TacNet, make sure no one tries forcing their way in while we pick up Speidwagon and get ready to do this. Once we arrive at the Annora Arabella and secure entry, you're gonna want to hack into the ship's VPN to pull off whatever e-gremlin shit proves necessary: likely that means ripping intel from the ship's network, but if this gets frenzied then we might need you to cause some chaos and cover our escape.]

Rushing Jaws {TacNet}: [While we're out here, we ought to get you kitted out. Never know what could happen in there.]
Rushing Jaws {TacNet}: [Actually, this would be the time for anyone looking to get gear to call in favors for swim over to the red market. Figure Devin and I can go get our lucky boy and the new morph he needs to sleeve into, mind the ego bridge while y'all go sort yourselves out. Copy?]
 

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