Exhaust smoke hung in the air. Shouts of rage, sadness, and drunken ignorance replaced the sounds of digital advertising messages. Ruined shells of buildings stood beside the cracked webs that were once well-used streets. Amidst all the ruin of the Seattle Barrens metahumans from all the dregs of society washed up together. Together they would find whatever rest, respite, or work that could be made available to them. The Hellfire Bar, rooted between a few of the broken shells of old buildings, was a location for people looking for just such things.

It was a single story squat building, grey plascreet with a pathetic attempt at painted hellfire across it. Most of the paint seemed to be trying to conceal the obvious structural damage across the lower reaches of the building proper. The bad art couldn't hide the sagging in the walls and ceiling however. A sturdy door composed of old bits of welded together steel, the same type that made up the bars covering every window. An open, mostly debris free stretch of plascreet served as the parking lot, filled with numerous motorcycles all bearing the logo of the Spikes Street gang. Everything about it screamed that only the toughest people should set foot near it.

Everything except for the posh-dressed dwarf standing beside a blue Mercury Comet sedan.

"Where the hell are the others," Davas muttered to himself. His sunglasses did as good a job concealing his eyes as they did enhancing his senses, so no one else should have been able to see his eyes darting back and forth. Along the bottom of the glasses his clock read 12:53 am, June 9, 2072. "I am never late to a meet."

From behind one of the ruined buildings emerged a series of headlights. The vehicles pulled into the parking lot. Up front was an enormous Harley-Davidson Scorpion being ridden by an equally enormous figure. Behind it rolled in a pair of scooters. The trio of vehicles and riders pulled in beside Davas' car.

"You lot took long enough," muttered Davas as he gave his fellow runners a grin. "If you had taken any longer I might have had to go to the meet by myself."

"Hello," called back the enormous figure stepping off his motorcycle. His voice was full and deep, but there was an unmistakable childlike quality to it. Unusual to say the least for a nearly three meter tall troll, long blond hair clinging to his rough face. "Jek knew that Davas wouldn't go in without him. A fight could start, and Davas is no good in fights."

"You give Davas too much credit," mumbled one of the men dismounting from a scooter. His clothing was dark and slightly loose around his gaunt frame. Removing the helmet and setting it on the handlebars revealed short-cropped black hair, and unusually pale skin for his Asian features. The cybereyes and faint marks of old upgrade surgeries may give reason for some of the unusual nature of his appearance. "He gets into a fight by himself and he's dead. He starts a fight and gets me involved with it while I'm here, and he's covering my ammunition costs plus hazard pay."

"Oh Hanzo, that isn't very nice to say. Jek is here and can handle all the fighting on my own."

"And then I'll have to patch all of us up, so I'd appreciate not getting shot at tonight. We haven't had a meet out in the Barrens for a while. If memory serves our last Barrens job offer had an argument over the pay, and it resulted in me getting shot in the leg, and our employer getting his head unceremoniously removed by Hanzo's shotgun."

These musing came from the man on the other scooter. A mess of dirty brown hair tumbled out of his helmet, reaching the neck of his armoured duster jacket. The man didn't appear to have any weapons on him, although a medical kit did hang from his belt.

"One day perhaps Davas will find us another job where we can stay in civilized company," muttered Hanzo as he adjusted his clothes, checked his gear, and cracked his neck. "Of course it tends to be the civilized meets that try to fuck us the hardest. Now lets get this over with."

Hanzo began walking up the door to the Hellfire Bar. Jek, a broad grin on his features came as he grabbed the massive axe from the side of his chopper and slung it across his back. The other man shook his head, and allowed Davas to go before him. Davas glanced up as he walked past. "If Hanzo is right and we get shot, I expect you to heal me first Doc, so I can increase how much we get paid."

"Financial support is the only way that my bills get paid and I still get the medical supplies I need to keep us and the rest going. Here's hoping we get this done easily." Doc followed Davas into the bar, his fingers crossed behind his back.

The inside of the bar was even murkier than the outside. Nearly a dozen trolls wearing leather jackets with the Spikes gang logo on them sat at most of the tables inside, drinking from massive tankards, smoking cigars, and occasionally punching each other in the head for accusing each other of cheating at cards. The smoke drifting around their rough faces made them look near the demons that should be found in a place of hellfire. Conversation wouldn't come easily due to the headache inducing volume of goblin rock being blasted through some ratty speakers in the corners.

A cursory glance from the troll bartender was all that the reaction the runners' entrance elicited. Given the state of the place, they got all kinds of metas coming through looking for cheap drink and bad soy. Most of the other people were passed out for the night at their tables. Other than the trolls only one table had conscious and attentive occupants, a booth far at the back. The fact that all three of them were wearing tailored suits worth more creds than the belongings of everyone else in the bar revealed that table to be the easy target for their employer for the night.

Davas, Doc, and Jek all headed over to the back booth and grabbed the seats across from the other three. Hanzo took a different tact, settling himself down beside a few of the passed out humans and sidelong from his companions. The bartender lumbered over to him, a massive scar crossing the right side of his face twisted his features. "What cun I get yus?" The troll ground out.

"Grab me a whisky." Hazo directed a few nuyen from his credstick to the bartender, and waited for his drink to arrive.

The three figures in suits sat across from Davas silently. An ork and a troll flanked the human that sat in the middle. Gazing lazily over his sunglasses, the man had clear signs of old cyberware surgeries, and his head was completely shaved right down to his dark skin. He didn't say a word.

"If you are looking to get something done, Mr. Johnson, my crew are the ones you need to do it." Davas gave a light and easy smile as he said the words, his sunglasses sliding slightly down his nose to show his shining and eager eyes.

"And who says I need something done?" Johnson's eyes remained bored, his voice steady. Neither of his companions even blinked.

Using the self-control he had developed over years of such negotiations Davas resisted his urge to roll his eyes, or sigh, or show any sign of displeasure. So, we're playing this old song and dance all over again are we. He thought to himself. The words that actually left his lips were a great deal different from his own thoughts. "We have a mutual friend that instructed me to meet here, with you, for some business. If this mutual friend has been sadly mistaken than allow me to buy you a drink to apologize for disturbing you. Of course, none of you look like the kinds of folks that would frequent a fine establishment such as this for your culinary needs. You three would prefer bottles of wines with names and labels on them I expect."

Mr. Johnson's cheek twitched the slightest amount. If his control hadn't been as good as it was he would have smirked a little bit. Davas knew he had an in. He stood up as though to leave.

"Please, stay a while. Perhaps we can talk after all." Mr. Johnson held up a staying hand, and brought out a fiber link from behind one ear. Davas brought one out from his behind his own ear. The two men connected through the cables and began a private conversation of their own.

"Still interested in discussing business?" Johnson's voice echoed inside Davas' head. No matter how many times Davas had done this it was always an unnatural sensation.

"Depending on the job, and of course the fee, we'll see if we can deal." Couldn't let anything slip just yet. Some of his friends needed a way to keep their roof over their head. Passing up on jobs would lead to bad future negotiations if it happened too often. "Begin with what you want, and how we fit in."

While Davas negotiated just what the terms of this job would be with Mr. Johnson, it left the four other metahumans sitting around the table without much to do. Before long Jek began to drum his fingers on the top of the table. Then he began to hum loudly to himself, to strange looks from the orc and troll across from him. After a minute or two of this Jek turned to Doc.

"Doc, Jek is bored. It is interesting when Davas talks out loud, but when there are these quiet ones I get very bored. How can I be less bored Doc?"

"I, um, just give me minute to see if I have something." Rifling through his pockets Doc could only find his commlink, credstick, and his medical supplies. That, and an old rubber eraser. He held up the small box of pink rubber with a defeated look on his face. "Sorry Jek, all I have that I don't need is this old eraser."

"That will work." With surprising swiftness Jek grabbed the eraser from Doc's fingers. The large troll then began bouncing the eraser back and forth from hand to hand, a broad smile on his features. Missing one of the bounces, the eraser fell onto the table, and Jek frowned sadly down at it. Then he picked it back up, began bouncing it once more, and his great grin returned.

Hanzo barely had time to start his whisky before Mr. Johnson and Davas nodded to each other and shook hands. The troll with Johnson tapped a few keys on his comm. Then, without so much as another whisper the three Corp suits stood up and walked out the door.

"I'm not leaving without finishing my drink," Hanzo muttered to himself as he waited in the chair. Taking a draw from the glass, Hanzo's lip curled up. He glared at the murky liquid at the base of his glass. Then he drank down another mouthful. He looked back over to his companions, who sat leaned over in hushed conversation, except Jek who was still playing with the eraser Doc had given him. Didn't look like they'd try to leave before he could finish his drink at least.

A below of rage echoed from outside. None of the regulars so much as interrupted themselves mid-drink. After a few moments a troll with great sweeping horns pushed his way into the bar, the gingers of his right hand slightly curled and burnt. Fury filled eyes swept across the interior.

"Alright, which of you runts has the stupid little car outside?!" His roar nearly shook the empty glass in Hanzo's grasp.

There was a laughing echo from the trolls in the bar, who then all went back to their drinking and punching each other in the face. With the angry troll at the door still waiting for someone to identify themselves as the owner of the car outside. Finally, as he was the owner of the car, Davas waved the Troll over.

"Sorry my good troll, I'm afraid that the car is mine." Davas flashed his most charmingly apologetic smile. "It has a pretty good security system on it, so I do apologize if you got a little too close to it."

"I didn't accidentally get too close to your car you dumb squat!" Spit flew from the troll's thick lips. "You bring a stupid little car like that to our bar and it is going to get stolen. Turn off your fraggin' security so that I can sell the piece of garbage for parts, and maybe you'll walk out of here."

A flicker of genuine concern passed over Davas' eyes, but it didn't last long enough for anyone present to see it. "Well, I didn't realize that it was your bar my good…"

"I'm Thugg, of the Spikes Gang. And I'm taking your car whether you want me to or not."

"Can you shut your mouth?" Hanzo quietly asked it, not even rising from his chair. "You may be a member of the gang that helps run this bar, but since you slotted out when a little car security zapped your sausage fingers. Since your name is only Thugg, I don't expect you are much of a lieutenant in The Spikes."

"You smoothy piece of garbage!" Thugg tore his attention away from Davas to lurch towards Hanzo. Hi meaty hands pulled a massive knife from his belt. "Maybe I should cut your head off and show you where I belong in The Spikes."

"Have to do it without one leg I'm afraid." In the blink of an eye Hanzo had his right arm forward. The barrels of his sawed-off shotgun rested against Thugg's left knee. Fear filled the troll's eyes and his mouth hung open dumbly. "Now, since you started this I doubt any of your friends will come to help you. They'll probably enjoy watching this little smoothy blow your leg off. Maybe they are already placing bets on if you scream like a little bitch after."

All around the Hellfire Bar eyes of other Spikes were all turned to this little conversation. None had lifted themselves from their chairs, although some of their hands had inched towards various weapons on their hips. Others leaned close together, whispering quietly as trolls can in or'zet. A few even wore broad smirks.

"Choose quickly, my finger is itchy." Hanzo depressed the trigger on his shotgun the most miniscule of amounts.

Thugg turned around and headed to a different table. The trolls there laughed right in his face as he sat down with them. Thugg replied by trying to put his knife through one of their hands. A brawl broke out immediately. The runners all took that as their cue to leave.

As soon as they were out the door Davas turned to Hanzo. "Thanks for that."

"Don't bother thanking me, just let me know what I need to for the job." Shortened shotgun tucked beneath his jacket, Hanzo leaned up against his scooter. "I trust it will be a paying one."

"Yes Hanzo, the job will pay." Nearly sighing, Davas stood in front of his car, looking it over quickly for scratches. There was a slight stain of grease from where Thugg's fingers had tried to slip under door handle. Pulling a kerchief from inside his suit he began to polish his car. "I need to contact Dodger and Ez before I start explaining the plan however."

"Why do we have to wait Davas?" His lower lip pouting, Jek's tusks almost vanished into the flesh below, appearing like strange blemishes inside his mouth. "I need more credits."

"This will be a big job, so we'll need the backup." Grinned Davas as he pulled his kerchief away from his once more shining car. "We're stealing a weapon's shipment from Ares Macrotechnonlogy."

Both Jek and Hanzo grinned to themselves. Jek even began clapping his great meaty hands together. Doc's response wasn't quite as positive; "Fuck, I'm going to get shot again."


From inside a darkened factory none of the machines moved. They simply sat around still assembly lines, old oil dried upon them, gears and belts locked in place. Chains suspended incomplete drones and vehicles, but if they had only been abandoned or been forsaken since the last crash there were no hints or clues. Old dirt and grime were caked upon the floor. One word was labeled over everything; M.A.R.S. There was also one sound that echoed in shadowed halls, wet and thick coughing.

A metallic ringing sound crashed out and echoed off the barren walls. Lights burst to light, casting stark shadows about the lifeless factory. A few drones moved between the still conveyors and hooks. They all moved towards a colossal screen with a broad chair before it. Within that chair sat the source of the coughing, a decrepit old man with rotted teeth, sunken flesh, and a surprisingly well tailored suits.

Spitting a hunk of phlegm to the ground the man cast a hateful glance towards the enormous screen as another round of ringing echoed through the walls. Pulling open one of the arms of his chair, the man proceeded to pull out an all matrix deck. Connecting the cables to the base of his skull and another port in the chair he brought the screen before him to life. On one half stood an image of the old man, dressed as a vagabond from the middle ages with even harsher features and a sharp blade on his waist. The other screen, leaning against his car, was Davas.

"Well now Davas," began the Matrix projection of the old man. "I trust that there is a good reason why a little puppy like you wants to wake up friendly ol' Uncle Dodger from his nap? If it isn't a good reason he might just have to give you a big ol' spankin'."

"I trust work is a good enough reason Dodger," replied Davas with a broad smile. "And we've had a talk about you not talking to me like that. It creeps all of us out, and that's why we never have you on comm when we are talking to the client."

"This is just the way Uncle Dodger talks little puppy, but if you want I'll be quiet when you are talking to your Johnsons while I just poke around in their business a little bit. But work will certainly count as good enough reason to wake up Uncle Dodger. SO what are we doing to keep the fun going hmm?"

"I'll let you know once Ez has been connected too."

"I appreciate you calling me first you stunty little prick, but I don't like to be kept waiting, especially not just for some half-bred, corruption blooded ork bitch."

"Just wait while I do it." Davas set Uncle Dodger on hold in a back feed of his commlink. He looked at the others who were all staring at him. "How many times have we told Dodger not to insult metas?"

"Dodger is always very nice to Jek." Nodding his head happily Jek grinned broadly again.

"That's because he's afraid you might be able to hurt him from the physical world inside The Matrix." Hanzo was practically dismissal. "And he doesn't insult me because I could track him down and put a bullet in his meat body immediately."

"Your support is appreciated guys, truly it is." Davas sighed to himself and sent out the next call.


The alleys of Seattle were filled with pop-up advertisements, vendors, hustlers, and all forms of folk that would most charitably be described as not reputable. Certainly you could find well off individuals slumming within as well, looking to feed their BTL chip habit perhaps, of cruising for a meat parlor to satisfy their carnal desires. But the well off that frequented such locations usually knew to try and look like they were confident.

"The ones that are all jittery and nervous sure do make easy marks," muttered a deep and husky female voice. The strange combination of Chinese and Jamaican accents, coupled with the enormous tobacco pipe that sat stuck between her thick lips meant the ork woman didn't feel much worry about being overheard and understood. She ran tough fingers through her long black hair, and continued to watch the skittish woman trying unsuccessfully to sneak through the alley ahead. "How she managed to keep an affair secret this long is the real mystery. Hubby must not be all that bright, but at least he pays me well enough. Now, lead me to this mister wrong of yours so that I can get the money shot I need to keep me in soy and smokes a little while longer."

From inside her earpiece came the tone of her commlink. "Why do they always have to call while I'm on the job?" She reached up and pushed the key to answer the call. "This is Esmeralda. I'm currently working so make it quick."

"Hey Ez, it's Davas," replied a familiar voice on the other end of the line. "We've got work if you're interested, but I'll need to run you through it with the others right now."

"Fine, fine. Keep talking but don't get all offended if I don't provide many suggestions. I'm serving as a voyeur, and if you make me miss the money shot I'll have to stunball my subjects and take a much less convincing image. Let me have it though, keeps me from getting board while I follow someone that might as well be wearing neon body paint they stick out so much."

"Excellent, allow me to connect everyone else and I'll begin the briefing."


With the other members of the crew connected via commlink, Davas had Doc, Jek, and Hanzo lean in around his car as he began explaining the details Johnson had given him. "So, for those that I haven't told yet our client wants us to steal a weapons shipment from Ares Macrotechnology."

"How big is the crew we're working with for this, you're only connected to that mixed-blood gypsy ork through comms, so who is there with you?" Dodger's Matrix avatar sneered as it announced it.

"We're also bringing Jek, Hanzo, and the doctor with us. Six should serve us plenty, as it is only a one-trailer shipment we will be procuring."

"And who are we doing this all for?" Dodger spat as he waited for a reply.

"Didn't take Johnson's details, but he holds the air of a Mega about him, and the pay seems fair enough."

"You know how much I hate messing with a Mega for some low-brow single A corp slot that doesn't even have the pull or balls to protect himself let alone hide who did the job for him."

"Payment is what interests me," cut in Hanzo, ending one of Dodger's most common rants if he wasn't allowed to dig through their employers commlink during the meet. "How much up front, and what are we looking at upon completion."

"Nothing up front for this one," explained Davas. "All the prep work and materials will be out of pocket so I'm hoping we can keep it pretty simple. Once we grab the trailer we deliver it to a location set out by Johnson, and then each of us gets to take one weapon of our choice as payment, before Johnson and his goons get to pick it over."

"Jek wants a new gun, Jek likes this plan and this job." Nodding brightly to himself, Jek began cracking his knuckles. "When will Jek get his new gun?"

"The shipment should be coming down Highway 90 tomorrow, approaching Seattle just prior to midnight."

"Security?" Hanzo seemed bored as he continued along his usual questions.

"Should be an Ares CorpSec team, so nothing we aren't used to. Sounds like it should be a relatively easy grab, they are relying on the small scale of the shipment and anonymity more than force to keep it safe. Too bad for them we heard about it."

"Alright, so planning for at least two CorpSec teams since Johnsons always make it sound easier than it really is, in case they are dealing with fresh meat. So, block the highway with debris or a broken vehicle, eliminate the security teams from afar, take the truck, and deliver it. Except that they will be monitoring their shipment for signs of deviation or trouble and will scramble who knows how many more security teams as soon as we start."

"Blocking Highway 90 would probably draw Lone Star attention prior to the trailer even reaching the roadblock anyway." Rubbing his hands through his hair, Doc was biting his lower lip.

"Which means we need to get the truck off the main highway without triggering any alarms with Ares and Lone Star to start," agreed Davas.

"And that is why you have the savant of the Matrix working with you my dear puppies and kitty." Cackling to himself, Uncle Dodger was rubbing his hands together. We're going to need a security broadcast through Seattle Central Traffic Control and then I can intercept and replace the route change to somewhere in the Barrens that we can perform our ambush. But even I can't hack the traffic regulation system with a days notice and expect to be undetected, so the warning will need to go out another way or your plan is shit."

"Too bad there isn't a real accident that would block the highway," Jek considered sadly to himself. "That would make things better."

Davas, Doc, and Hanzo all looked across at each other. A smile crossed Davas' face. "We could always let slip to several different gangs that a major delivery would be coming down Highway 90 a little earlier than ours. A little go-gang war should be just the warning we would need to get a redirection across. I'll send out a few subtle messages to different gangs to meet here tomorrow for details. Start the fighting and competition early, and then one of us tells them to head towards the highway. The destruction spreads and we tell the shipment to come right where we want it. Who will meet with the gangs tomorrow?"

"Jek will do it. Jek likes meeting new people." His broad smile lit up his face.

"You'll remember what to tell them, won't you?" There was worry in Davas' voice, despite all of his social graces. Jek just gave him another broad smile and eager nod. All Davas could do was sigh and smile back.

"I'll set up some watcher spirits to keep an eye on the road and give us a time estimate for their arrival." Doc smiled along with those around him, shaking his head slightly at the renewed energy as Jek gave suggestions.

"We'll need some old damaged cars or rubble to use to make a roadblock, but it's the Barrens so we shouldn't have any trouble there." Hanzo had already started to move towards his scooter. "I'll find a nice perch to provide support from."

"Also, Dodger," continued Davas, "We'll need you with us in the meat for this run. A lot of these corp rigs don't have manual controls any more, and they disable their wireless to make them hacking resistant."

"You worthless little shits wouldn't stand a chance without me there anyway." Despite his bold words, Davas could tell that Dodger wasn't happy to hear this. "If I do this I get first pick of weapons when the job is done. Hazard pay for your most valuable and important member."

"I pick along with Dodger," added Hanzo. "Or find someone else to fill my spot. I don't take other people's rejects."

"Yes, take that you dumb bitch!" Esmeralda's voice cut in alarmingly loud across the comm frequency. She practically sang her next exclamation; "That picture is a winner for sure!"

"Ez, have you even been listening?!" Davas' voice held barely controlled annoyance. "We aren't explaining it again just for you."

"Don't wory Davas, I've been listening. Stealing weapons, roadblock, shoot people until they stop telling us not to, Dodger's meat body, blegh, getting paid in guns. Send me the coordinates and I'll be there."

"Fine, I'll send everyone their specifics and then we can meet up to get this done tomorrow night. Gather everything you need and try and get some rest if you can."

"Sounds good, I'll deliver these pictures and should have plenty of time to smoke and sleep before you need me. Esmeralda out." Her commlink channel clicked off.

With the meeting concluded Doc hopped back onto his scooter, and Jek thumped down onto his motorcycle. The two set off, Doc back towards Seattle proper and Jek down a broken street further into the Barrens. As Davas opened the door to his sedan however, Hanzo put his hand atop the door to keep it from fully opening.

"Since we don't need to take care of this job until late tomorrow, I have another job I want you to look into for me this afternoon." The tone of Hanzo's voice suggested that the offer wasn't actually up for debate.

Checking the time in the bottom of his glasses, Davas was even more thankful for his sleep regulator. "Fine, what time and where is it."

"The meet is at a coffee shop called 'More Than Just Soy', middle class, your car should fit in just fine. Be there for three o'clock this afternoon and I'll meet you. Also, get Dodger in on this one from the start, it should only take the three of us to get paid, you to do the talking, and me to get the job done. Dodger is there only if I need him."

"So, we're keeping this one from the others is what you are saying?"

"They'd only get in my way." Hanzo put his helmet on as he sat down on his scooter. "I trust you tried to make Johnson give each of us two guns each for payment of this job?"

"Of course, but this one was a tough nut to crack and he stuck to his price. I convinced him that we got to take what we wanted before his crew did at least."

Hanzo's helmet regarded Davas for a moment, then it nodded. "Good enough. See you at three." Hanzo then proceeded to drive away.

Settling himself into his car, Davas closed the door, and lay his head down gently on the steering wheel. A thin layer of perspiration covered him. Taking his Hammerli 620S out of the holster in his jacket, he placed it in the glove box. Looked like it would be an even busier day.