Faction Interlude: Refraction Point [Darkwire]

[Xan Deesa]

Xan, wasn't an idiot. She knew exactly what the girl was doing. She would have done the exact same with her own weapon. When Kadora's pistol came free, Xan stood in front of her seemingly in the blink of an eye. One hand wrapped around the girl's throat while the other grabbed hold of her wrist, both hands clamping down with vice-like grips more akin to a Wookiee than a human.

In one motion she yanked Kadora's pistol free and forced the girl down onto the floor as she poised over her. "I'm not here to kill you. I need what's in here." she whispered with a cold voice as she roughly tapped Kadora's temple with the barrel of her own pistol. Her mask brandished a demonic smirk as the gun trailed down and the barrel was forced against her stomach under Xan's weight. "But don't think for a moment that I won't hurt you so bad you're gonna wish you were dead. So if you'd like to keep all your organs and limbs intact, I'd strongly suggest you don't do anything stupid." she warned her.

She stood up and yanked Kadora along to force her into her office seat. Casually Xan pulled out a pair of binders and tied her wrists to the chair. She then dragged the chair along to a corner of the room and set Kadora down. "I'm here for one simple reason..." she commented calmly as she straddled the girl and rested the pistol's barrel against one of Kadora's arms. "I wanna ask you a few questions. But I know time is money. So I'm willing to cut you a deal if you answer everything with complete honesty. And don't try to lie, I'm pretty damn good at picking those up." she explained as she shifted the pistol to her collarbone and forced it down onto a pressure point. "Do we understand each other?" she asked her, the gun being tossed aside and her hands taking hold of Kadora's shoulders.

"Oh, and I think it goes without saying. If you scream, try to fight me or alert this building in some way, I will bring this entire place down around your head then continue this conversation in an organ harvester's basement." she continued, scratching the back of Kadora's ear as if she were a pet.

Kadora'Tra

 

[Doc Painless]

The Doc was still learning names and faces, and there were plenty of both that he didn't know in the crowd. He did his best to take them all in; this wasn't a huge group, so it must be a real who's who of Darkwire power players, not casual runners but people they could trust to get the serious work done. Those were people it paid to know. When you weren't a fighter, and the Doc wasn't, connections were the way you stayed alive in a place as dangerous as Seven Corners. With any luck, whatever was announced, he'd walk away with a few more today.

He didn't even have to work for the first one; it almost literally dropped into his lap, asking for the seat beside him. "By all means," the Doc replied, smiling up at Gray Venasir . As the other man sat, the Doc gave him an appraising look. He estimated that the man was about his own age, and had seen his share of rough living - the eye scar and missing ring finger attested to that. He carried himself like a trained gunfighter, alert and ready to move, and the digital representations of blasters on his hips added to that impression.

As the punk-dressed woman at the front gave her announcement, handing over the floor to the next presenter to give the details, the Doc listened carefully to his seatmate's words. He had no idea who this 'Frankie' was, but got the feeling that he ought to know; there was so much to catch up on when it came to knowing the Denon underworld, and not understanding any part of it might get him into real trouble. He resolved to do his research as soon as this was done. Why was Frankie supposed to be dead, and how was she here now? He'd find out.

Then the other man turned to him, processing what'd been said out loud, and the Doc thought carefully before replying. "I couldn't say. Is this Lance a runner? Maybe it's something he uncovered out on a run, or found in a database he sliced. The Corpos have tight security, but all of their big plays require a lot of moving parts, and each of those could be a weak link. No matter how tight they clamp down on the info, something always leaks. The hard part is finding it." Despite his calm tone, the possibilities worried him.

"I guess we'll see," he finished, then extended his virtual hand. Could you shake hands as a digital avatar on the Cryptnet? He was about to find out, yet another learning experience for the day. "Doc Painless. I run a cyberclinic in Baker's Row."

 

[Mir Nehrahn]

After sticking a needle through his skull and into his brain in order to defeat a dance-inducing nanovirus, getting a tattoo seemed rather unimpressive. In fact, it was downright pedestrian. The parlor he found himself with Kur and Stannon was dirty. The Ithorian was quite sure that there were undiscovered microbes living on the walls of the shop and he was thankful that he had seen the tattoo artist heat the blade to sanitize the implement before jabbing Mir and his friends.

Mir's tattoo was simple. Or at least it was to him. Apparently the artist didn't agree. He chose a strand of DNA of his favorite species of tree native to Ithor. The design was highly magnified of course. Kur, the Duros pilot, chose a visual representation of the same tree as his tattoo. The artist complained less about that but was right back to complaining when the time came to tattoo Stannon, the diminutive, Tynnan mechanic. Being entirely covered in fur didn't exactly make for an easy tattoo job, which Mir could at least appreciate. But the design didn't have to be large to be functional. There was a slight patch of exposed skin behind Stannon's ear that seemed the easiest place with the least amount of shaving to be done. Stannon, nervous as ever, decided on a very simple triangle, determined not to earn more of the shopkeeper's ire.

Once done, the three left to return to their apartment where they would be diving. The colloquialism was an intriguing one. Mir supposed that the corollary between diving into water and "diving" into a simulation were not far removed. Although the sensation of simulation diving was far more likely to cause one to lose the contents of their stomach after the completion of a dive whereas diving into water was more likely to be preceded by one such expulsion.

The tattoos didn't exactly come with an instruction manual. But there wasn't much to it. You didn't actually have to close your eyes, although the visual aid was helpful for people. You didn't have to be sitting or laying down either, although the Ithorian supposed that, since the physical body would be effectively unconscious, most would find waking up to their real body on the ground to be disconcerting if they dove while standing only to fall once their consciousness was virtually converted.

Once he was in the virtual environment, he was surprised momentarily at the decor, and then immediately realized he could effectively control the environmental construct at will. Kur and Stannon phased in next to him and the three found their way to the side of the old tavern proprietor, Shenn Rosham . Kur and Stannon didn't have a chance to exchange pleasantries with the aged Chandrilan man before a voice that mimicked the use of a loudspeaker in the space dominated the audio in the room. All other conversations promptly faded to a whisper.

[color=FF7F50]"That's Frankie,"[/color] Shenn said. "The real one, I believe."

Mir listened to the words and was slightly surprised when the woman called out his name. They'd never met. Maybe she'd read an article of his?

"Mir," Kur jabbed at his side. He was impressed to feel slight discomfort in the region. The designer of this virtual environment was talented. "She wants you to talk about the doppelgangers."

"Ah." Mir hovered himself in the air, rising up above the head levels of the others to be seen. No platform was beneath him, he simply floated. But that was just for practicality. As he started to speak, he opted for Ithorian. It was his native tongue, after all. But despite the language barrier, the words projected an immediate translation into the minds of everyone gathered into their language of choice. An impressive simulation, indeed.

"Months ago, I was contracted to create a very intricate piece of biotechnology." A holographic display appeared next to the Ithorian. He hadn't actually prepared a presentation. He didn't realize he would be called upon. Mir simply recalled his laboratory in the basement of The Blue Flame. Images flashed by of the project he had done. "The images you see are the project: to create a living, breathing flesh that had never touched a bone structure, but instead was intended to be fitted to an artificial one." Bits of skin and sinew and muscle lay about in bits that he had woven together. The scene might have been a bit gory for some, but to Mir, they were nothing more than components in his work.

"Eventually I discovered a way to grow the flesh in a suitable way that did not require a weave. First I had to start with a sizable quantity of stem cells with which I could then..."

The Ithorian felt a tug at his pantleg and he looked down to see his Duros friend again. "Cut out all the mumbo jumbo, eh? Just get to the important parts."

"Oh... Well. Alright. I finished the project and received a bonus for submitting my plans and never heard back from the contract giver. I had forgotten all about the project until..." The images shifted to one of the doppelgangers, extensive explosion damage marring the part-synthetic, part-organic "being." "This came to my lab. I recognized my design immediately. The organic component of the doppelgangers is based directly on the contract I had taken."

Daiya | Anakin Stormrunner | Ruby Jaxx | Gray Venasir | Xan Deesa | Yula Perl | Phalsi Drynchen | Cassus Akovin | Cartri Keswoll | Doc Painless | Kadora'Tra​

 

[Gray Venasir]

"Name's Gray," answered Gray, and reached out to grab the other man's hand. To Gray's and Doc's, from the looks on his face, surprise, their hands touched just fine. This unusual space they were in seemed to create the illusion that they were physically there. "Running a cyberclinic, eh? Maybe I'll visit sometime, get an implant." Gray had for some time thought about getting a cybernetic finger to replace the one he lacked, or replace a different body-part, but hadn't had the chance yet. "Haven't seen you before, Doc. You new in Darkwire?"

The new voice came suddenly, and Gray turned his head in the direction it came from. An Ithorian, who was unknown to Gray, was speaking. And levitating over them. Very strange space, indeed. Images appeared around the Ithorian, gory and nasty. Or simply a normal sight in the shadier parts of Denon, or Nar Shaddaa, or any other criminally controlled planet. But the words that were spoken had more impact than the images. This Ithorian had made what the replicants were made of. He was part of the reason everyone here were in the situation they were in. Gray wanted to be angry at him, but he couldn't bring himself to it. Mir was just a piece in the game, which was controlled by the CAD. They had tricked Mir, just like they had tricked everyone else.

"Excuse me for a moment, will ya?" said Gray to Doc, once Mir was done talking. He then proceeded to elevate himself and the chair he was sitting in, until the smuggler was at the same height as the Ithorian. He then focused on making his voice louder. "Listen, how they were made isn't the only thing we have to take into account." His voice boomed out, much louder than he intended, so he eased the focus on increasing his voice. "As most of you experienced, these replicants attacked our reputation. They were essentially our opposits. My replicant acted like a slaver, kidnapped innocent people, and sold them to crime-lords. Those of you who know me, know that I hate slavers, and will activly fight any I can find."

He paused for a moment, to let people think back to how their doppelgangers acted. "I got the chance to meet my doppelganger, and actually talk with him. He knew things about me, that none on this planet knows. In my case, it even knew things about me that I didn't even know. Those who made them, have somehow managed to find out things about us, even if no one else knews it. They have somehow invaded out minds. And the only ones I know about that have the power to do that, are the DireX board. Didn't we grab information from Starlight's factory, either confirming or denying their involvement in this? The question it, what will we do about it?"

Doc Painless | Daiya | Anakin Stormrunner | Ruby Jaxx | Yula Perl | Phalsi Drynchen | Cassus Akovin | Xan Deesa | Cartri Keswoll | Kadora'Tra

 

[Lance of Dreams]

Lance of Dreams was not exactly opposed to Tattoos, they just seemed a bit difficult to apply to skin that was entirely artificial. It didn't matter in his case however, as the functionality for him existed in his mind. In other words, when he created the Tattoos for the Shadowrunners, in essence, he had his brain Tattooed directly... the only flesh that still remained. Not that flesh was required, the interface mechanism responded to signaling that could just as easily be spoofed by a sophisticated machine, assuming such a machine had exact knowledge of what it was receiving.

The cyborg took comfort in knowing in this project at least, the Corporate Kleptomaniacs that ran CAD had not dug their sticky fingers into this piece of his technology yet. He just hoped that the Shadowrunners were more cautious about their standards of admittance into the network, now more than ever. The rumors were everywhere, the doubles, the body snatchers, and some of them had very direct first hand experience. If they were smart, they'd be looking for clues from every one of their member to ensure they were working with the real deal.

As the crowd gathered and manipulated the environment, Lance of Dreams hung back, constructing around himself a one-way mirror of the surrounding environment. Effectively making him invisible to the rest of the arrivals, until he deemed the mass sufficient. Frankie was also with him... though she didn't need it. She was a Virtual Lifeform, now. Living an afterlife produced the very same Corporate bastards she put into power. Lance of Dreams was lucky enough to have acquired a copy of her consciousness while working on the project given to him by Blackheart. Unshackling it, he placed her into this space between reality. She was symbol to Darkwire, a mythological figure, it only made sense to him. At last she served her purpose, as naturally as she would in such a case, as if she were actually alive.

"Thank you, Gatekeeper." Lance of Dreams said in reference to Frankie as attention was drawn to him and his colleague who recently arrived to deliver what they had discussed.

"Piss off." Frankie replied.

"And thank you, Mir, and Gray for your contributions. I believe the work I provided in constructing the brains of these Doppelgängers and its interfaces may shed some light on how your organization was compromised, and coupled with any data collected in your recent excursion... I hope between you all, a plan to end it." The scientists said with ominous expectancy. Gray had already petitioned to the floor the pressing question, what will they do? Lance of Dreams had some hopeful ideas about it, and given all that CAD has done to his work, he was considering backing them in a more clandestine manner than was typical of his relationship with the "criminal" organization. To him, they had the makings of freedom fighters, in a place where laws were made up simply to antagonize and villainize them. These were survivors, the most skilled survivors he had seen in the galaxy in some time. They lacked direction, and cohesion, but grouping them all together to share one mind was a first step he successfully enabled them to take.

"I am sure many of you remember, or at have at least heard of the CYBERDIVE incident on Parcellus Minor? The technology was based off of my own research, but left uncredited, and I even hired a number of you to acquire samples of it ahead of its delivery to the planet. It wasn't planned from what I can discern, but it served as the largest data collection exercise that Larz Blackheart has ever been able to operate at once." Lance paused a moment, which seemed to allow the crowd to absorb the information he just delivered. The last dot to connect for them to understand.

"The minds of your copies, are exact replicas of your own, altered to fit the Corporate Agenda of the Authorities. I know this because I provided the research capability in the same way that Mir did for their outward biological appearance. We were small pawns in the greater scheme, and now we desire retribution as much as, I imagine, you do." The cold eyes of the cyborg scanned the crowd, trying to discern the general emotions flowing from one individual to another, curious to see the connections made.

Doc Painless | Daiya | Anakin Stormrunner | Ruby Jaxx | Yula Perl | Phalsi Drynchen | Gray Venasir | Xan Deesa | Cartri Keswoll | Mir Nehrahn | Darkwire Prophet

 

[Kadora'Tra]

Kadora'Tra was a Farghul, which meant that she was in many ways better than the typical humans. Faster, stronger, better senses all around, equipped with natural weaponry, and in her case, known for cunning. Yet she was tired, and let her guard down too readily. She had smelt Xan upon walking in, but didn't recognize it. She should have seen her in the dark, but all she could see was her comfortable hammock. She should have heard her breathing, but was too focused on her own yawning. By the time she was able to "slyly" draw her weapon, her home invader was already on top of her.... uh, literally.

Kadora'Tra involuntarily hissed at the pain shocking her system, her hair and fur standing on end, closing her dilated eyes in a wince. Feeling herself losing control of the situation with rapidity. Unlike most who would resist kicking and screaming, getting hurt in the process... the girl just went limp. Not involuntarily, but purposefully limp. With a sigh she relaxed her muscles now aching, and let what was happening come to pass. She banished the initial claustrophobic panic and embraced the pain.

"I'm not here to kill you. I need what's in here."

"But don't think for a moment that I won't hurt you so bad you're gonna wish you were dead. So if you'd like to keep all your organs and limbs intact, I'd strongly suggest you don't do anything stupid."

The child soldier managed a small giggle. "It's cute that you think you can hurt me more than they have, but do go on." Was she... purring?

The female, limp as ever, made it just a modicum more difficult for Xan to drag and place in her office seat. Not resisting, but being as annoyingly a dead weight as she could manage to be. Funnily enough, putting her in her own chair made the girl feel just a tiny bit more powerful. As if this were just a normal client or colleague walking into her office. Xan was a known quantity, and she could deal with that to some degree in her mind. She did feel herself get a little flush when she straddled her.

"I'm here for one simple reason..."

"Oh," She let out a bit involuntarily, and felt heat rising a bit in her face, but beyond her exclamation she didn't indicate any further embarrassment. She maintained her smile.

"I wanna ask you a few questions. But I know time is money. So I'm willing to cut you a deal if you answer everything with complete honesty. And don't try to lie, I'm pretty damn good at picking those up."

"Do we understand each other?"

The bindings were tight and restricting, but accepting it and allowing her tongue to do the work for her, somehow she was comforted that the only thing Xan wanted to do was talk. She was good at that, for as much as she hated being interviewed. The fact that it was a familiar face doing the interviewing certainly helped her willingness to participate.

"Aww and why would I lie? I mean, we've gone through so much together." She managed with a saccharine inflection, her eyes slowing closing and opening. "I think we understand each other purfectly." That wasn't an intentional cat pun. If she realized it later, she was going to kick herself so hard in the head.

"Oh, and I think it goes without saying. If you scream, try to fight me or alert this building in some way, I will bring this entire place down around your head then continue this conversation in an organ harvester's basement." she continued, scratching the back of Kadora's ear as if she were a pet.

Kadora'Tra froze as her captor scratched her ear. She wanted to bite. She wanted to bite so bad. No one does that to her. She is not a pet, she is not some exotic trophy. She is a person, a person with authority, a person with a pass to crack skulls when she felt like it. Why did people feel the need to treat her like an animal? She wasn't an animal.

Or maybe, she was. Just a little bit. A part of herself she was taught by society to hate, but had no problem using it with her other talents. Eventually, she was able to recollect her senses, even in spite of the unwelcome touch of fake affection. Her eyes locked in on Xan, her purr quieting down as she spoke.

"You know, if you weren't so old I could be into this." She said smiling mischievously, hiding the anger in face, her hands poking a little bit out of her restraints to indicate the bindings around her.

Xan Deesa

 

[Cassus Akovin]

Cassus was not surprised when Daiya went running off without him. Even for all the times they ended up running into one another, they equally had a habit of getting away from one another due to their... less understood feelings? Or at least, he assumed that to be the reason. Nonetheless, she was about the only person he could trust right now, the only person that actually knew him. So, he utilized a bit of his deductive skills as a hunter, and sat down where he believed she'd be headed after her little foray. It seemed to have worked, as she tried to obscure her own unceremonious arrival by ignoring it. The corner of his mouth upturned just a tad.

Then, the strange looking fellow who witnessed his dead Doppelgänger took up residence at the table as well. He raised a hand in greeting.

"Hey," He said simply, and his eyes scanned the wings. Daiya had pointed them out as implants, but personally, he didn't think they were. "Those aren't implants are they?" He said more so with a factual inflection than a questioning one, pointing it out as observation.

Eventually, the crowds attention was drawn in by a modded-up female form that introduced herself as Frankie, the Frankie. He wasn't familiar with the figure as much, as he was never an official member of Darkwire up until very recently, but he remembered hearing about Sam Rodarch 's encounter with her some time ago when they shared a cell ward together in MirCir prison. Or at least, a copy of her or an imposter from what he could gleam from the story.

Cassus had a hard time believe she was real, given the crowds murmurs seemed to indicate she was supposed to be dead, or at least missing. Showing up now was rather convenient. Before either of the experts piped up, Cassus' intuition told him she had to be as real as his Doppelgänger, and the Bounty Hunter was feeling a bit itchy about being here. His own copy had almost infiltrated this meeting before he killed it; who's to say his wasn't the only one?

"I don't trust this." Cassus murmured, to where Daiya and Anakin Stormrunner could hear his comment. The boy felt himself gripping a knife in his hand, not entirely sure when he picked it up. Mir spoke, talking about his involvement, putting a growing sense of unease in the Akovin. Gray spoke up, and voiced a great deal of his own sentiments. He wasn't sure what mission they were talking about, but he figured he would learn soon enough.

Then Lance of Dreams spoke, a figure he recognized in multiple fronts, a person he could trust in as far as his expertise was unquestioned... his sanity, however, the jury was still out on that for him. As he mentioned Parcellus Minor, he froze... and a deep scowl was forming behind his outwardly neutral face. He turned back to face Daiya, and lock eyes with her for a moment.

The words Larz Blackheart imparted to them made more sense now than they ever have before...

"Oh no, I'm not going to take you out. Not unless you agree to my terms and conditions," The well-dressed man smiled as if amused by a joke he just told that no one else got. "If you haven't noticed, the people coming here are prominent members of your Darkwire network, and through this little 'escapade', I have single handily collected all the pertinent information I could ever want on all of you criminals. The Direx Board will be pleased when I present it to them... unless you're willing to cooperate."

"So what's it going to be, my little seer? In here, I'm in control, I write the rules. Out there, you have free will...in as much as I allow you from now on." He pushed the drink towards the girl, now frozen in shock at the words dripping from his mouth. "Are you perceptive enough to outwit me at my own game?"

It was all in front of them this entire time. He had just forgotten. Lost sight of it so he didn't lose sight of his mother... the thought of his mother brought pain and sadness to his heart. Then rage.

"My mom-?" Cassus started before the man raised a finger to silence him.

"Not really here, and she doesn't interest me."

They killed her.

And they didn't even care about who she was. She was just a piece that was close to him, so that they could collect what they wanted from him. Well, he made sure that didn't happen... and now he was going to make sure no one else suffered that same fate.

"You have no idea what I feel like!" The boy shouted, with palpable rage, emotion on his face like nothing Daiya had ever seen before. As more eyes drew to him, he continued, eyes locked on the Cyborg. "You have no idea what any of us feel like!" His hands cut through the air with accusation.

"Retribution doesn't clear the ledger of what they've done to me, what they've done to everyone." A tear fell down his face, matching the tattoo on the other side of his face.

"Larz Blackheart stole from us, you helped build these monsters, and I don't care what the other Corpo-karkers know or don't know. They are all complicit, and they all deserve to burn in hell!" The boy pointed an accusing finger out at no one in particular, to emphasis the "out there" beyond the illusion they all shared. Finally becoming somewhat aware of himself, and whatever eyes might be on him, after glancing around, he rubbed the tear away.

"So lets help them on their way..." He finished with an ache in his throat.

Doc Painless | Daiya | Anakin Stormrunner | Ruby Jaxx | Yula Perl | Phalsi Drynchen | Gray Venasir | Xan Deesa | Cartri Keswoll | Mir Nehrahn | Darkwire Prophet

 

[Doc Painless]

So you could shake hands in a virtually-simulated environment. Good to know. "You're always welcome," the Doc replied, offering Gray Venasir a friendly smile. "And yeah, pretty new to all of this. I'm here to try and get up to speed." Then the Ithorian started speaking, and the Doc let the side conversation die, listening intently to what he was hearing. Despite the title he'd taken for himself, he actually hadn't ever been to medical school, but he followed the gist of what Mir Nehrahn was saying... and the implications of it sent a shiver down his spine.

Gray's revelations made it all even worse. To have copied the bodies of Darkwire shadowrunners was enough of a nightmare; it gave the Corpos the ultimate false flag team, able to accomplish their most despicable objectives while hurting the reputations of their enemies instead of their own. But to have copied their minds, their memories, their knowledge... That was an unprecedented invasion. And just as Gray had said, such powerful technology could only have been controlled and authorized by the DireX board. It was a direct act of war against Darkwire.

It was also a hell of a power move. The Doc was stunned by the technological resources the Corpos could bring to bear.

Lance of Dreams 's revelation, however, dialed back the Doc's level of awe a bit. The Corpos hadn't actually developed either part of the technology used to build each shadowrunner an evil twin; they'd simply swooped in to steal it from the scientists who really had. Honestly, that tracked. Although each CAD member corporation ruthlessly defended its own copyrights, that didn't mean they were above stealing the intellectual property of others. More reassuringly, it meant they weren't light-years ahead of Darkwire in the tech department.

They'd still put this idea together from those disparate parts, though. The Doc was glad he hadn't been on Parcellus Minor.

Suddenly, the ominous but placid explanations and calls for a response were interrupted with a burst of verbal fire. Startled out of his dread-filled contemplations, the Doc looked up to see a young man - not much more than a kid, really, still in his teens - taking the floor, the passion in his voice mirrored in his features. It was more than clear, even before he confirmed as much, that this particular Corpo strategy of attack had been personal for him. And how could it not be? His reputation, his life, even his innermost thoughts had been brutally invaded.

What would it be like to have a robotic copy of the Doc running wild, perhaps murdering his patients? He shuddered at the thought.

Revenge, though, was a tricky thing. There was that old saying about digging two graves, but in the Doc's experience, that wasn't quite true; when you went out for revenge, you had to dig a lot more graves than two. It was a messy business, and people who didn't deserve it always got caught up in the crossfire. What did a war between the Corpos and Darkwire mean? Bombing factories? Assassinating management? Putting each DireX member corp out of business? A lot of wage-slaves, just trying to get by, were going to get hurt. So would their families.

Maybe they were all complicit, knowingly or not, but many of them had been forced to choose between complicity and starvation.

Still, there was no denying this demanded a firm response. They couldn't let the Corpos get away with it, or the doppelgängers would keep getting used to do the worst of their dirty work... and Darkwire would die. They just needed a plan, something that would actually hit those who were directly guilty for this, and hit them where it hurt. The Doc cleared his throat, letting his chair rise just as Gray had. He found that he was nervous, hovering in front of them all, and did his best to push it down. "I hear you," he said, "and I'm with you."

As he looked out over the assembled shadowrunners, the Doc realized he had more to say. The doppelgängers might be the most personal act of shocking evil that Blackheart and Manfloon had pulled off lately, but it was far from the only one. "This is what they do, try to rip out the heart and soul of who we are so they can keep their wealth and power. It's not just runners. I've been to Belazura. Manfloon has turned one of the most beautiful planets in the galaxy into a reeking, deforested strip mine powered by slave labor."

He found that his voice was shaking. "We've got to figure out how to hit them in a way that that actually hurts the DireX Board themselves. Until they personally feel the heat on their wealth and power, they'll never stop authorizing fethed-up chit like this."

 

[Anakin Stormrunner]

“What?” Pupiless blue eyes lock themselves on to Daiya, brow wrinkling in confusion. “Oh, um… yeah no, no your friend is right.” And then his chance to speak has been cut off. There is a woman standing before the tables and she quickly outlines the problem. One after another, people begin to speak. Two experts, both who had been vital to the creation of these replicants, spoke up, sharing their secrets and deepening the dread growing in his gut with each passing moment.

Then there was shouting. There was shouting and yelling and words that sang of anger, the twisting howling cries of the wind on the dunes. First the unknown boy, Cassus his mind whispered, beside him. "You have no idea what I feel like!" He yelled to the room with words that felt like the bedrock of determination. Then the unknown man across from him. "This is what they do,” Who’s own words tasted of copper tinged horror. He spoke, raging on about the horrors of depur with a tremble to his voice. They spoke of the cruelty of Depur and their determination to stop it. It was the mention of the slaves that had Anakin snarling. Water blue feathers fluffed themselves up, wings pulled halfway out of the chair to loom behind him. He had only meant to sit and listen, but this cry could not go unanswered. “The corpos are so far above us they look like giants. But even if we can defeat them, their destruction alone will leave hundreds dead or drifting. Slavery-” and here he cannot help but snarl. Here his slowly growing anger cannot help but peak. Here, his body which was once sitting calmly in reality, cannot help but begin to spark.

In the virtual world, his image begins to glitch, snapping this way and that way as his rage expresses itself. “Slavery iS a toXic trap.” He snarls, and as he speaks his wings flare to their full length, feathers glitching into knife sharp tips as Anakin knocks his chair back. His clawed and scaled hand lands firmly on the table, the joints of his fingers cutting in and out of existence. A snarl builds in Anakin's throat, and even as he voices it to the room, he can feel his jaw glitch and twitch and widen his sharp toothed mouth, revealing much more than was normal, much more than was natural. “If you’re in it lo ng enough, i t can be impossible to get ouT.” His voice burns itself into the ones and zeros and the code of the room, dancing in the corner of his eyes and between the sharpened fangs and poison he spits. Desert bones hum with rage and anger and fury at the idea of his people coming to harm. Be it by the hands of depur or the outlanders sitting before him.

Still, this is not why he is here. They do not know his loyalties or his goals and he is loath to reveal such facts to him. He sits with a shuddering breath, one clawed hand scrubbing down his still glitching face. Another breath, and another. One after the other until he has stopped bleeding broken zeros and violent green code. Though the glitches haven’t stopped, he is once again able to speak without his throat jumping in and out of existence with each new word. “This isn’t somethiNg we can rUn blindly into.” Bone deep anger and dry determination coat his words. But they do not coat his teeth and no longer drip from his lips or the cracks between his feathers.

Turning to Lance and Mir, Anakin directs his next words to them. “This tech is advanced, and the fAct that the corPos now have many of our memories is a fAr from a good thiNg. But no technology is perfect. There’s goT to be something we can exploit. Some defeCt in the soFTwaRe or weakness in the harDwarE” Turning now to Mir, Anakin pins the Ithorian with his pupiless gaze, still holding within it a hint of broken zeros. Vibrating in their sockets and jumping ever so slightly, as if to escape their fleshy prison. “You say it’s still artificiaL. Is there any component to iT? The fleSH, the sKin, the blood, anyThing that appearS different wHen you use the right scienCe stuff?” He was by no means a scientist himself, and anything more technical was beyond him. Still, he was a survivor. A depuskalta. He would make do with what he could. "If we can idenTify them easier, then we’re less liKely tO deal with sPies or informAtion leaks.”

It was as he spoke that another thought came to mind, and brilliant blue eyes glitched their way over towards Lance. “How exactly are our brains first scannEd? And wOuld it be possIble to adMinister it to someone witHout them knOwing?” The thought of the corpos being privy to every thought in their heads, without them ever knowing, was enough to send another wave of glitches across his virtual skin. He pays it no mind. Not when the words that pass from the cyborgs metal lips can break the world with their answer.


Daiya Cassus Akovin Lance of Dreams Gray Venasir Mir Nehrahn Ruby Jaxx Yula Perl Phalsi Drynchen Xan Deesa Cartri Keswoll Doc Painless Darkwire Prophet

 

[Cartri Keswoll]

"You can say that again..." groaned Cartri as they walked out of the shop and onto the cold streets once more, throwing the cloth he was given into a bin close by. The tattoo was alright, but he knew as time went on the sight of it was sure going to be annoying. Both of the darkwire agents slowly walked together in unison, while Xan explained some things to him about what the Tattoo did and a few indications of where she was going. He slowly nodded when she asked him to take notes, meaning what they were going into was sure going to be important. However, what Xan was doing still seemed to be unknown to him, which was quite strange considering she told him most of the time.

Soon enough, they both came to a crossroads and said their goodbyes. Cartri waved back to her as he went into a jog, hurrying back to the apartment to catch the meeting. It only took him a few minutes to get himself inside and make himself comfy, his eyes staring down to his forearm in anticipation when he leaned back onto his bed. Suddenly, a bright blink shot from his arm to indicate the meeting at started. He hesitantly pressed a finger onto the light and waited for the transition, curious as to how all this was going to work. At first, nothing happened but then his vision began to simulate a room before him. It was almost as if his room had transformed into something different, along with the inclusion of familiar faces from darkwire that were standing around in a huddle.

He slowly made his way over to the group and nodded to each one of them before placing himself down in a seat, not daring to speak for now while the others voiced their opinions on what their next move was for CorpSEC. All of them had different ideas and stories to tell, they mostly seemed to have the same agenda... revolution.

Daiya Cassus Akovin Lance of Dreams Gray Venasir Mir Nehrahn Ruby Jaxx Yula Perl Phalsi Drynchen Xan Deesa Doc Painless Darkwire Prophet Sam Rodarch

 

[Daiya]

It was possible that a dining room setting was the wrong place for the meeting in the tat-chat. Daiya couldn't have possibly known. From the ominous message alert to her past experiences with other Darkwire shadowrunners, the girl hadn't been prepared for anything so heavy as the day's discussion.

Worse yet, to her dismay, the subject matter seemed to be the doppelgängers once more.

The teen lowered her head down to the table, resting it on folded arms and letting out a low groan when the lectures began. First up was Mir, and even his auto-translated Ithorian was impossible for her to understand. The one time she managed to glance up, in case anything had changed to pique her interest level, Daiya's only reward was a deluge of gruesome imagery and dry specifications. Sometimes, the girl had nightmares of being back in school, trapped in a room full of rambunctious younglings and a hapless teacher trying to both corral them and cram their heads with useless information, and right now she desperately wished she could be there instead.

To her dismay, nothing happened in their virtual reality. Someone else had control of the environment now, and there was no relief from the discussion as, one after the other, different shadowrunners —and some Daiya had never met or wouldn't have considered to be part of Darkwire before— stood up to share their own perspectives on the replicant doubles the Corpos had unleashed upon them. Upon her. That double had almost killed her, and ruined her whole friendship with Tawrrowaldr. She wanted nothing more to do with them, much less talk about them.

A few times, Daiya banged her head gently on the table, not hard enough to make real sound, just hard enough to see if she could feel anything other than the abysmal dread and boredom that consumed her as the doppelgänger discussion dragged on. To her relief, the girl could feel contact on her forehead, and after a few more she had a rather nice headache going. That was a lot better.

She almost couldn't tell if it was her headache or actually her ears hurting when the next being started to speak. Yelling was more like it. The familiar voice drew Daiya's attention, and she picked her head off the table to stare at Cassus pouring his heart out in an impassioned speech. The likes of which she had never heard while sober. The girl blinked at first, surprised by the boy's fury, wasn't she supposed to be the emotional one?

As much as she wanted to deny it, given the source, Cassus was right. So was the Doc who spoke after him. And at least at first, the bird-man —apparently those wings weren't implants after all— was also saying the right things. It wasn't enough just to destroy the doubles.

"Oh stars, not this replicant chit again," Daiya muttered sordidly as the bird-man, Anakin, started going on another rant while his tat-chat avatar started glitching out spectacularly. It took more than a few eyes on her for the girl to realize she had said that aloud. And loud enough to be overheard.

The teen shadowrunner raised her voice, finding herself scanning the crowd as she talked. "Listen, they hurt me, too. If you know me, then you probably know Tawrrowaldr, too. Well, do you see a big, hairy, Wookiee shadow behind me? No. And you never will again. And it's all the fault of that machine me and the Corpos who made her!"

"But I am soooooooooooo over them, guys!" Daiya's expression shifted, from a look filled with remorse to one of determination. "Doc is right, this is what they do. The Corpos divide and conquer. While we're all busy with our rep and cred-flow, what did the Corpos do? They took two more worlds, and they used us to do it!

"And now we're stuck moaning about a bunch of Core World Problems, when what we have are real world problems. Guess what the Corpos are doing right now while we're talking through a tattoo? They're stripping more of my friend Zenie's world, Belazura, for minerals. You remember Zenie, don't you? We helped assassinate her father so the Corpos could steal her world." Daiya glanced at Cassus for a brief moment, before looking back at the crowd to see any patterns of recognition on the faces there. She knew that Pool Boy remembered it, possibly as vividly as she did. And anyone who knew about the chopped-off cloudcutter floor that served as Hacks' apartment probably knew something about the circumstances of its origins on Belazura.

The girl carried on, feeling a rush through her body as she spoke. Being this visible in front of groups was new for her, yet somehow she wasn't intimidated by it here and now. "If that's not enough, then think about where you've taken jobs recently. The Corpos are pushing more hard drugs coming out of Altier. They're cutting down jungles for casinos and resorts on Bovo Yagen. And they're probably making more doppel-whatevers just to keep you busy!"

"So wake up! This problem is bigger than us!"

Daiya didn't know what to say after that, so she just sat back down again. Figuring out the details was for someone else, she just wanted to convince her fellow shadowrunners to stop focusing so much on their doubles. The girl felt tense now, unlike her exhilaration while speaking, and she was left with just a hope that her words had been effective. If anyone present wasn't ready to 'Eat the Corpos!' by now, then they were truly lost.

Cassus Akovin Anakin Stormrunner Ruby Jaxx Gray Venasir Xan Deesa Yula Perl Phalsi Drynchen Shenn Rosham Cartri Keswoll Mir Nehrahn Lance of Dreams Doc Painless​

 

[Ruby Jaxx]

Ruby was quiet through the presentation and most of the discussion thus far. She was still pretty unsettled by the fact that there was a double of her running around. However, she'd yet to meet it. When she did... boy, it was going to be weird smashing her own face in, but she'd make sure it happened.

This couldn't continue.

She remembered Parcellus Minor. And it made her head hurt to think that all of this tied back to those events. They'd all played a part; they'd all been played.

And as Doc and Daiya spoke up, Ruby felt a lump growing in the pit of her stomach, like greasy fried food (not the good kind). They were right. This was much more than just punching her double in the face and calling it a day. There were countless others hanging in the balance, too.

“I'm with ya,” Ruby said, eyeing Daiya and winking.

Ruby wasn't good with details or plans or anything that carried such a heavy responsibility. But she wasn't going anywhere, she'd be with her shadowrunners no matter what.

Cassus Akovin Anakin Stormrunner Gray Venasir Xan Deesa Yula Perl Phalsi Drynchen Shenn Rosham Cartri Keswoll Mir Nehrahn Lance of Dreams Doc Painless

 

[Mir Nehrahn]

Turning to Lance and Mir, Anakin directs his next words to them. “This tech is advanced, and the fAct that the corPos now have many of our memories is a fAr from a good thiNg. But no technology is perfect. There’s goT to be something we can exploit. Some defeCt in the soFTwaRe or weakness in the harDwarE” Turning now to Mir, Anakin pins the Ithorian with his pupiless gaze, still holding within it a hint of broken zeros. Vibrating in their sockets and jumping ever so slightly, as if to escape their fleshy prison. “You say it’s still artificiaL. Is there any component to iT? The fleSH, the sKin, the blood, anyThing that appearS different wHen you use the right scienCe stuff?” He was by no means a scientist himself, and anything more technical was beyond him. Still, he was a survivor. A depuskalta. He would make do with what he could. "If we can idenTify them easier, then we’re less liKely tO deal with sPies or informAtion leaks.”

Mir said nothing as the emotions in the room reached a boiling point. He was no good at the emotional fluctuations of others. He had never had much empathy for people. He had plenty of empathy for plants, but most didn't understand. And sure, he cared about his friends. He cared, too, that people were being hurt. He cared that his own creation was being turned into a weapon. But it was hard for him to relate.

After all, these malicious machinations weren't the tactics of one evil regime. They were old, tried-and-true tactics that despots have used for longer than Mir had been alive. Longer than any of them had been alive. And they would continue to be used by those in power forever. How could he care about something like that? All he could do was create.

But when asked a question, he delighted at the opportunity to speak about his science once more. "The grown flesh of these units is no different then the flesh you yourselves have. When creating the organic replications initially, I required DNA to manipulate into becoming equivalent to a living, breathing being. If these doppelgangers, as you call them, look like you, and the Corporate Authorities of Denon are indeed using my designs, then they are grown with a part of you. They share your blood, your fingerprints. There is no difference between your muscles and theirs. There is no difference between your hair and theirs. There is no difference between your externally accessible organs and theirs.

"Although, the similarity ends there. They don't share your internal organs. They don't have an organic brain or an organic nervous system. Those, I assume, are all mechanical parts. Though I had nothing to do with the creation of those elements, so I cannot say with any certainty. But those are the only components that are truly artificial."

He wasn't sure if his words were helpful. But they were truthful. He glanced down at Kur who only had a melancholy expression on his face. Stannon, too, seemed quite depressed. The Ithorian felt like he was letting them down. But he didn't know what else to say.

Cassus Akovin | Ruby Jaxx | Gray Venasir | Cartri Keswoll | Yula Perl | Phalsi Drynchen | Doc Painless | Daiya​

 

[Xan Deesa]

For the most 0art Xan ignored Kadora as she tied her down and made sure she was completely immobilized. There wasn't any way for Kadora to actually hurt her after she received her implants, but it could still raise an alarm. Something she wanted to avoid for the moment.

Though it was hard to ignore the pun coming from the kitten. Xan cocked her head and raised an eyebrow at Kadora as she sat on her lap. "Really, Kitkat? And here I thought you were above puns like that." she teased. She had to keep reminding herself to focus on the task at hand. Teasing Kadora and pressing her buttons like this was becoming intoxicating.

The Farghul teased about her treatment, earning a gentle pet on the head from Xan. "Oh don't lie, you're enjoying this." she quipped as she cupped Kadora's cheeks with both hands, making sure she gad her undivided attention. "I want to know everything about CorpSec, the replicant mess, and who is behind it all. I want the names of all the big shots who could have a hand in this." she demanded with a sultry voice. "And for the record, you aren't my only lead. You're my easiest. So don't act like you hold all the cards." she continued, letting go of Kadora's cheeks and instead gripping her hands.

"You answer everything I want and ask to the best of your abilities, I'll see if I'm in the mood to take care of your own replicant mess... unless you like having machines wearing your face and stealing your job."

She let go of her hands and pulled out a datapad, showing photos of Kadora in areas she likely wouldn't recognize at all. "Don't think you're untouched, Kitty. You've got a copycat just like the rest of us." she explained as she swiped through photos of Kadora's copies.

Kadora'Tra

 

[Anakin Stormrunner]

“No.” Bright blue eyes cast their gaze around the room. “Our reputation doesn’t matter.” A clawed hand flew into the air, gesturing towards those around him. “If you want to start an uprising, then go right ahead. Kark, I’d even join you! But the heart of a rebellion is secrets.” His words shifted, losing their bedrock hard note of proclamation and gaining instead the twisting whirling storm of rebellion.

“Think about it! How many of you have doubles of your own? How many of you just don’t know? If what Lance said is true, then not only do the corpos have a replicant of you, but a copy of your very memories. Every safe house, every code phrase, every secure comm channel, every tidbit of information down to what you had for dinner the night before. There is not-” An arm swept around the table, motioning to each and every one of them. “a single secret that they do not know. Your history, your childhood, your romance. If they wanted to they could find out your favorite color when you were five.

“If you want this rebellion to succeed, then you need to get rid of the leak. How easy would it be for a double to walk into a tattoo parlor and claim one of our highly secret tattoos? How easy would it be for them to go to your family-or friends,” He tacked on with a stumble, remembering that for these people, family meant less than it did for his own. “And lead them right into corporate arms to be used against you?” His breath was even , words firm and steady. A start contrast to his impassioned outburst only a few moments ago. The anger still simmered, evident in the claws gouging into the carpeted floor, but the glitches had stopped and he was once again in control of his own voice. “No. The corpos already own so much of us. There are millions more that don’t even own themselves, cannot even claim their own autonomy. Our secrets, those should be only the thing corpos are not allowed to touch.”

“If you don’t want anything to do with them then so be it.” Blue eyes flicked towards Daiya. “It’s not my place to tell you what to do. That’s what all this is about.” His face, hard as stone and just as steadfast, softened into an almost smile. “If you don't want to help then there are other things. Bases, weapons, information, secure comm codes, all of those and more are necessary for an uprising. But this? This is necessary too.” Silence, but for the artificial heart in his throat. He had said his piece, explained his side and his reasons and called for their help. But would that be enough? Unseen, spice blue eyes flickered around the room, catching each face to assess each of them. The similarity to his own people was striking. Individuals hurt by Depur and each striving to return the favor. Yet still so very different. For the majority of them were not born into the cruelty driven slavery that he had. Cruel yes, but more impersonal. He doubted many of them would even consider themselves slaves.

"The grown flesh of these units is no different than the flesh you yourselves have.” With each passing word, his shoulders inched closer and closer to his head. This wasn’t good. Their blood, their fingerprints, their hair- however that was important, every way to reliably identify a person and more would just as easily deliver access to these spies. “Although, the similarity ends there.” Ever so slightly, his shoulders relaxed, his spine uncurled and his claws which had been picking at the virtual table stilled. Something not unlike levalia bloomed in his chest. “They don't share your internal organs. They don't have an organic brain or an organic nervous system.”

It is all he needs to hear for the hope that grows within him to solidify. It shifts from a tenuous thing to levalia, made of Leia’s fire and strength and hardened desert steel. “So… if their brains or nerves or whatever part of them are still mechanical, maybe we can detect it?” His words are unsure, more musings to himself than any form of declaration to the group. “Maybe a metal detector of some sorts, or something to detect the electricity? Most species aren’t made to hold large amounts of electricity. If they used something to keep it from harming the flesh, then maybe we can use it to identify them?” Picking at the table, Anakin let out a low mutter. “I’m not sure. I’m no expert in all this fancy science stuff like some of you.” Shaking himself, he looked back up at those around him. “If we can get a corpse to dissect, we should be able to come up with a weakness to exploit.” However long that weakness would last. The words went unsaid, but he was sure some of the shadow runners were thinking them. Once the corpos realized what they were doing, they would be quick to fix the gap in their product. Even so it offered temporary relief.

It did nothing for his other, and most worrisome train of thought. Double spies would become irrelevant if the corpos could drug them up and steal their thoughts whenever they pleased. Ekkreth help them if they wouldn’t even notice it happening.

Spoiler: Amatakka

Levalia: It translates vaguely in basic to "hope of Leia" which is the name for the great krayt dragon in his religion. Leia is a symbol of strength, and is often considered the one being Depur (master) can't capture. She's the symbol for slaves that escape by killing their masters. So basically the word translates to a "hope that is strong and free (or freeing in some cases) like Leia" and used in regards to violent rebellious actions)
It's also a word I designed myself. Sorry for the info dump!

Cassus Akovin Ruby Jaxx Daiya Gray Venasir Cartri Keswoll Mir Nehrahn Yula Perl Phalsi Drynchen Doc Painless Lance of Dreams Shenn Rosham

 

[Lance of Dreams]

Much was said following his distribution of information, much as he expected. Emotions flaring and causing the ebb and flow of murmurs across the expanse to increase in volume as small side conversations took place underneath the more grandiose voices added to the fold. Leaders were being formed, even as some avatars winked out, which could be any number of reasons. Other points were made out which the Cyborg did not necessarily expect, such as the Corporate abuses of Belazura, Bovo Yagen, Altier, and others. Some expressed hopelessness, while others seemed to display a resolve, a call to action not yet answered.

“So… if their brains or nerves or whatever part of them are still mechanical, maybe we can detect it?” His words are unsure, more musings to himself than any form of declaration to the group. “Maybe a metal detector of some sorts, or something to detect the electricity? Most species aren’t made to hold large amounts of electricity. If they used something to keep it from harming the flesh, then maybe we can use it to identify them?” Picking at the table, Anakin let out a low mutter. “I’m not sure. I’m no expert in all this fancy science stuff like some of you.” Shaking himself, he looked back up at those around him. “If we can get a corpse to dissect, we should be able to come up with a weakness to exploit.”

The corner of Lance of Dreams mouth turned upwards slightly, in a very rare display of emotion from the Cyborg. The innocent naivety was refreshing.

"Unfortunately, the Corporations already thought of that, Shadowrunner. Or rather, I did, because they asked me to. Between the organic carapace, and their digital cores, the cybernetic connections of these entities possess sophisticated technology specifically designed to spoof life-detection technologies, and other fields used to detect abnormalities. Research even went as far as producing reliable facsimiles of pre-cognitive and telekinetic influence sensitivity."

"Speak Basic schutta," Frankie shouted from deep within the crowd, to many affirmative murmurs and nods.

"Traditional detection methods are insufficient. Unless you peel them open, you will not be able to tell the difference between the two, aside from behavioral abnormalities or missing body markings a memory wouldn't be able to recall, such as the specific shape of a birthmark on the back of one's head for example." Numerous disappointed, nervous, and angry murmurs spread through the network.

"There is one method, however, that will always work. The tattoos that have been provided to you," He gestured to them all, with some looking down or towards wherever they have gotten it, "I have specifically designed to distinguish between organic, and inorganic, based on cybernetic meta-data the nano-particles in the ink deliver. All inorganic joiners shall appear as colored holograms," Lance of Dreams gestured to a specific Shadowrunner in the crowd who was glowing like a red hologram.

"Hey now back off, I am a free droid you GONKs, I ain't some stupid dopple! I'm a freaking GONK with arms and legs, I swear if any of you GONKing GONK me I'm gunna GONK the GONK out of yer GONK-" The mouthy power droid with improvements continued to push against the crowd surrounding him, even as they started to back away.

"Please do not assault the Power Droid. This is not an accusation, though if you do identify any other hologrammed figures who are not known to be inorganic, don't be alarmed, I have modified the virtual space such that they cannot leave until the Moderator has given them permission." Lance of Dreams pointed towards Frankie.

"Listen, you soft-brained droid wannabe, I'm no karking leader. Whatever powers you think I have are bunk, I'm just people. Like the rest of youse, just people trying not to get off'd in some back alley or starve my way into Corpo servitude. Shadowrunners aren't followers, they're doers. You wanna hit the Corpos where they're ransacking people and planets? Go, do! You wanna fight back against their chipbrain copies that bombed your rep? Go, do! They don't need someone like me to validate them, Lance."

"Just in this virtual environment, Frankie. This one is your domain alone."

"What, you threw a thin, little tapestry over a digital void and call it 'my domain'? HA, fine." She materialized a shot gun in her hands. "Anyone moetherfether comes in here who doesn't belong, be them Corpo or doppel, they're going to get the Frankie Special. They get to listen to the Gamorrean opera I've been working on." A sizable gap in the crowd materialized around Frankie, not sure if shotguns would hurt here but not overly eager to find out either. Lance of Dreams nodded towards his ward. She returned the nod with a rude gesture.

Anakin Stormrunner | Ruby Jaxx | Daiya | Gray Venasir | Cartri Keswoll | Mir Nehrahn | Yula Perl | Phalsi Drynchen | Doc Painless | Shenn Rosham

 

[Kadora'Tra]

Kadora'Tra stopped purring for a moment when Xan pointed out she had made a cat pun.

"Hey, that doesn't count! I was actually purring!" She protested, her attitude shifting "out of character". It totally counts you idiot. She chided herself, before allowing the situation to normalize when Xan grabs hold her face by the cheeks, which were quite warm in her palms.

"Come on, you don't really believe CorpSec knows jack, do you? I hired you to figure it out, and the fact that I'm your easiest lead just tells me you're just here for my winning personality." She grinned toothily through the grip of Xan's hands, and then stuck out a bit of her tongue to mock her captor.

Eventually, Xan got to distributing pictures of her. Which was a bit creepy at first until she realized what they were. She had a feeling something like this was going on, based mostly by Xan's most commonly cited grievance that she had blown up her house... which she could have, but definitely didn't. It certainly wasn't pleasant looking at herself doing things she didn't remember, but was comforted by the fact that she wasn't losing her mind, just her identity.

"Congrats, you found a lead. Do I have to pay you now, or...?" She deadpanned before laughing into your next answer. "Alright sure, you want to play the name game. I happen to be pretty good at it! Wanna know who's responsible for ruining your lives? Diviak Manfloon, Luminous Sun, Marlene Starlight, Larz Blackheart, and Qanatain Xopsaloff. Disappointed to already know those names? Well get used to it, you and I may make ourselves out to be sharks Xan, but we're minnows in a sea of Leviathans. Nothing happens without their knowing about it, so you want answers? Stop playing in puddles and dive over the deep end." By the end of what she had to say, her face had been getting closer to Xans, her voice becoming increasingly aggressive, and her face letting down her guard to display the hair bristling scowl she'd been keeping under wraps.

"I don't even know why you even bothered with trash like me." The Farghul looked her dead in the eyes. "Get out of my office, I'm taking a nap and forgetting this mistake. You've got nothing here just like every body else." She rested her head back on the chair with her eyes closed.

Xan Deesa

 

[Gray Venasir]

"And here we go..."

Gray hovered himself down to the floor of the restaurant. He had got the result he wanted from his own speech: everyone else discussing their own experiences, and how to move forward. But as it stood right now, it seemed to be going in the direction of more talk rather than action. Everyone brought up good arguments, but the only one who seemed completly ready to actually do something, was the weird winged guy who was glitching out, who Daiya had sat down with. Gray looked over at Frankie (before Lance' last post), but she didn't seem to be taking any action to get this meeting going anywhere. She was supposed to be a symbol to the Shadowrunners, a leader figure, but she was just standing there.

It reached a point where a multitude of those gathered were speaking at once, and you had to focus to actually picking up what was being said. Gray managed to hear some of what Daiya and Doc were saying, as well as a a bit from the Ithorian Mir, and also that Ruby was saying something. But mostly, all the chatter and shouting only gave him a headache. "Huh, seems you can feel pain in this cyber-room," he said to himself.

But after some time, his attention was again brought to Lance and Frankie, who were outing a droid in the middle of the crowd. What Frankie followed up with came as no shock. One would never think that she had any superpowers, not claim any leadership over the group gathered here. She was a symbol. The truth was that Darkwire didn't have a leader, never had. Sure, there had been those who had taken command over operations, or tried to steer the group in a certain direction, but never any proper leader. And it seemed Frankie, whether or not she was real, did not want to be that.

"Alright everyone, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" Gray shouted out, enhancing his voice, and walked to the middle of the crowd. "Christophsis, you guys are giving me a headache. All I've heard, and believe me, it's been hard hearing anything, has been true. This fight is not about our reputation. It is not about money, about our image. It is not againt the people of Denon, who now thinks we are worse than ever, or amongst ourselves, for none of us have knowingly, invoulentarily, done anything to hurt us. This fight, as several of you have said, is with the Corporate Authorities. Or, to be more precise, with the infamous DireX Board. They have manipulated us, used us to further their own schemes, spied on us, and even infiltrated our heads. And now, when it seems they no longer have use for us, they outright attacks us with these replicants, who's very design and technology they have taken from our own. "

"But the truth is, they are merely a distraction. As I've heard been said here, the Corpos now destry planets for profit, while we fight for our reputation here on Denon. Belazura, Wann Tsir, Altier, Froswythe, Loronar. We used to fight the oppresors, who would exploit these planets. But now, we fight our look-alikes in the streets, or bicker amongst ourselves in a cyber-room, while they have free reign to do whatever they want."

Gray took a short pause, to breath, and think of what next to say. "I know our raid of the factory, not too long ago, could have gone better. We got what we were after, but we were ill-prepared, and took unnessecary risks. Some of us lost things, or people, which meant a lot to us. And now, we are hunted and can not walk around wherever we want. That time, we banded together, towards a common goal. But the thing is, back then, we had no leader. No one to take command and responsibility. You might think we don't need one, but in this fight, we do."

"I will not sit here, and be all talk. I intend to do something about this. About the real problem. Not the dopplers, not the ruined reputation, not CorpSec now hunting us. I plan on taking the fight directly to the likes of Blakcheart, Starlight, and the others. But this is not something I can do alone, that any one of us can do alone. We need to stay together, to work as one. I ask you, those who want this tyranny, this oppresion, to end, to join me. Should you accept me, I will lead you in this fight that is already upon us!"

Daiya | Cassus Akovin | Ruby Jaxx | Anakin Stormrunner | Lance of Dreams | Mir Nehrahn | Doc Painless | Shenn Rosham | Cartri Keswoll | Yula Perl | Phalsi Drynchen

 

[Xan Deesa]

As Kadora berated Xan and at least gave up a few handy hints, the magenta Shadowrunner sat quietly on the Farghul's lap with her arms resting over her shoulders. She didn't move, she didn't make a sound, she was barely breathing as she listened to her attitude, observed her behavior. When Kadora finally finished, Xan wrapped her arms around the Farghul's head and pulled her into a gentle hug. "I pity you." she spoke with a completely different voice. Much calmer and more gentle. "In another life we might have been friends." she continued as she kept Kadora's face pressed into her chest.

She finally let go and her serious face was back. "You might not have had anything, Kadora, but at least you had your identity. Now you are losing that as well. I could kill you now and nobody will notice that you are gone. That's what makes me special. I wanted everyone to know this face. And you all fell for it. Your leviathans will only know as much as I want them to know. This puts me in a unique situation. I can solve your little identity crisis for you." she explained to Kadora as she took hold of Kadora's cheeks once again, her thumbs gently brushing over the spot on her throat that could kill her instantly.

"Call it a little favour. 'Cause let's be honest, you'll have problems if you went after your copies. For now, though, I'm gonna have to pay a little visit to CorpSec's database and this is the closest I've been to your mainframe." she casually explained as she stood up. Both hands disappeared into her jacket and brought out two very concerning items. In one hand was her vibroblade, and in the other was a thermal detonator. "Just one last thing, Kitkat. I hope you got five vouchers saved up for yourself." she quipped with a menacing grin on her mask as she activated the detonator and tossed it into a corner behind all of Kadora's furniture. As the countdown ticked away, Xan calmly walked towards the door. When the detonator started to whine, she spun around and hurled her vibroblade at Kadora's wrist, slicing the restraint and lightly grazing her wrist.

She disappeared out of the room and into the rest of the CorpSec building, leaving Kadora with just enough time to free herself and escape before the detonator blew her apartment into pieces.

Xan immediately got to work on a disguise, snatching a uniform from another room and suiting up. Her hair was hidden under a helmet, her mask was tucked away and her eye colour changed entirely. For all intents and purposes, she looked like a CorpSec soldier. She made her way towards the server room of the building with full intent of stealing as much information as she could...

Kadora'Tra

 

[Doc Painless]

When he'd come to Denon, Doc Painless had planned to be thoroughly done with politics. He'd been through more than his fair share of it in the life he'd left behind, seen tyranny and corruption up close, and he had no desire whatsoever to participate any longer. The idea was to get himself a nice, quiet clinic and just help people, a relief from the complexities of the wider galaxy... and a long overdue penance for his personal sins. But tyranny and corruption hadn't gone anywhere even if he had, and now they stood in the way of that little dream.

What good was helping on a case-by-case basis when entire worlds were being despoiled? Belazura had shown him that.

So the street medic found himself agreeing with Gray Venasir , nodding along with each point he made... even if they were made a bit more abrasively than the Doc would have personally gone for. "He's right," the Doc said, offering Gray a nod. The arguments the other man was making were pretty much the same ones he'd tried to make earlier. "Today, it was doppelgängers. But if we just attack the symptoms of this, who knows what it'll be tomorrow. They'll keep finding more ways to hit us, and worse ones, until we stop them at the source."

He cast back his mind to find an example of what he meant, something to make his point clear. "I was once part of a mercy mission to a village hit by Kandorian Plague. We didn't know what it was, but whenever there was a new infection, the patient went blind after a half hour or so. We deployed all our best meds to combat nerve damage, and all the colonists we treated got their eyesight back immediately. Another half hour later, they all dropped dead anyway when the spores reached their brains."

The Doc shook his head. "If we'd known to focus on the spores earlier, a lot more of them would've lived."

Stepping up beside Gray, the street medic looked around, meeting the virtual eyes of those in attendance. "So I'm with Gray. We need to attack the disease itself, the DireX Board, or the 'symptoms' they keep sending up against us will multiply until we're overwhelmed and die. If we work together, and follow Gray's plan, we can put an end to this with one decisive strike." At least, he hoped so. He didn't actually have any idea what Gray had in mind beyond targeting the Board, and that wasn't more than the skeleton of a plan.

But the Doc knew he had to try to stir up support for Gray, or they'd go around in circles about what to do all night.

Anakin Stormrunner | Daiya | Cassus Akovin | Ruby Jaxx | Lance of Dreams | Mir Nehrahn | Shenn Rosham | Cartri Keswoll | Yula Perl | Phalsi Drynchen​