[Cyberpunk] Beneath the Smog - IC

[Selothi]

OOC Thread (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=12760)

The lonely siren wailed for what seemed an eternity. The shrill sound echoed throughout this region of Cloudtop, but while usually three long blasts were all that was needed to announce the acid rain, the system seemed to have malfunctioned and the siren was left to blare for as long as was needed before it was repaired. The rain fell hard onto Cloud level, quietening the streets as everyone rushed inside. At this late time, there would be few people out and about anyway, but with this weather, the place felt abandoned. While this did help their operation, it did not make Arno feel any calmer.

Booted feet slammed into the puddles as he rushed to the designated safe point. This whole operation had gone smoothly, but it was so unlike them. For a start, their gang hardly ever worked Cloud level, and here they were, out of their depth, not even doing thievery or burglary, but state terrorism ! Nothing about the job felt right, least of all the don's insistence to get it done immediately rather than leaving them a choice, and his refusal to answer any questions, so unlike his usual self. The man had been adamant: get the job done, nothing more. They'd been supplied all the kit: two cars, almost wrecks with any registration data spliced off at a local garage Downtown. Arno had been sent to supervise the mechanic: he looked like a rookie, dyed hair yellow and black, tattoos and piercings, a cocky air about him, calling himself Jet. But he got the work done and didn't ask any questions. Well, none that were uncomfortable.

All three of them, the most trusted members of the gang, had been handed backpacks containing high-grade explosives, handguns, secure-line phones, fake ID and alibis. It wasn't the usual job, this felt like one of those world-class heists from books and films, not their usual fare. They'd parked the two cars at street level outside two office buildings, as close to them as possible. They'd wired the charges to the full-to-the-brim fuel tank, added the powder into it that would increase the explosive yield apparently. They hadn't left a trace of DNA, wearing lab-grade gloves and full-face masks as they set the car up for the deadly show. It was uncanny. They were being paid to do this by somebody who had a lot of contacts, and a lot of money, and with no explanation. Loyalty had never felt worse.

Jasper and Tinman joined him moments after, both looking flushed even beneath the hoods of their coats. Arno had the detonator in hand, ready to flip the switch at any time. They would see the cars go up in flames, hear the crashing of glass and steel, and within minutes the police and fire department would turn up. By that time, they would be going down the gravitic lift to their right to Quarter level and stay the night in a safehouse they'd never been to before. This didn't feel right. They weren't terrorists. But they were fired if they didn't do it. The job hadn't proven too difficult, all it was was getting the cars past the mandatory checkpoints leading into Cloud level, hiding the goods within the chassis.

"Just do it man, I'm jumpier than before my first time goddamnit !" Jasper was right, it was now or never. Arno grabbed his tube of Mentats, popped one in his mouth, bit down, and flipped the switch.

Lighting was kept low during acid rain, as there were too few people on the street to justify the energy cost. Yet at that precise moment the place lit up like a sunrise as the ground violently shook. Over the sound of the acid rain alarm, a deafening explosion escorted by crashing glass and bent steel filled every nook and cranny of their consciousness. The tremor seemed to not only hit your ear-drums, but every cell of your body. The plumes of smoke and the remains of the fireball rose high up, but the three men had little time to admire the view. As they sank down the gravitic lift, Arno established a comm-link with their boss.

-----------------------------------

The don was sat in his dim office. Through the walls came the faint noises of music from the nightclub next to him, which he owned entirely, along with another handful of them. He smiled like any businessman would when Arno told him the plan had gone without a hitch. The men were now to make their way back to the safehouse, drop off the gear they'd been lent and come back to him the following morning.

All said and done, the don cut the comm link, sinking back into his leather chair, that content smile still on his face. "All gone well ?" came that strong, unyielding, ever so slightly masculine voice from across the room. Sat half-shrouded in darkness, for the only light in the office was what either crept around the edges of the door leading out, and from the City's lighting through the windows behind the don, she seemed all-powerful, in that mystical way. You respected her on sight. The don didn't show it, but, knowing who he was dealing with, he felt a little inferior in the food chain. He was the leader of a prolific gang of professional burglars, high-grade and effective, but nothing more. She, was the founder of the Upheaval.

"Yes, Lara. The two bombs blew without a hitch, the men tell me the carnage, its sound only, was unbelievable." He let out a slight sigh. "As long as I get the money to pay my men, I need not ask any questions as to what that was all for."

"You know very well what that was all for Mr. Kalan, we had a long chat about it earlier during which you seemed most understanding." After a brief pause where she bit off a fingernail, she looked back at him. "Contact me on the secure line when your men reach their destination. Remember, don't tell them the truth about this job, this is still underground, understood ?" The don's silent nod, smug smile replaced by understanding obedience and approval, was Lara's queue to leave the man's office. She got up, multi-parted skirt swishing about her strong legs with a grace and elegance that seemed almost unreal. Her long strides brought her to the door, but, resting her slender hand on the handle, she turned round, serious face replaced with a slight smile of gratitude: "Your men have done well tonight Mr. Kalan, they're a good team. When the time comes, we will have more use for them. Thank you."

That said, she opened the fake-wood door, full noise of the night-club reaching her ears as she strode through it in that same stride, crowd almost seeming to part before her, as she headed straight for the exit, and once outside in the dark streets, like a ghost, she was gone again.

[Ushima]

Jet woke up in a bad mood, he was still sore from his fights last night. Being slugged in the jaw by a biotic arm didn't feel all that great. Rolling out of bed he took a quick shower and put on his clothes and piercings before going downstairs for breakfast. His mother was humming happily as she cooked, she had gotten over Jet dropping out of school. His sister shot him a dirty look as he sat at the table next to his father. "Morning." Jet yawned.

"Jet, there's a job coming in, I want you to take care of it." Cid instructed his son.

"Sure, I got nothing planned anyway." Jet began eating as his mother sat food down at the table. It didn't take him long to finish breakfast so when he was done he put his food in the sink and went back upstairs, brushed his teeth, grabbed his coat and said goodbye before going out the door. Reaching ground level he went to where he praked his bike. Starting it up he took off down the street before going into the air. He was heading to the garage.

When he got to the garage he had to open it, he was the first one there. Jet had to wait around before the client arrived which didn't take as long as he thought it would. The two vehicles were junk and they wanted the IDs taken off. This raised some red flags in Jet's mind, bubt he had his own illegal dealings as well so he said nothing. He went about his work confidently, getting IDs removed was tricky cause most vehicles were designed to prevent that sort of thing. Plugging his data pad into the car he began hacking away, for about half an hour all that was heard were his fingers on the keys. Once he was in he deleted the information, then went and did the same thing with the other.

It was a quick job and he was paid nicely, he just hoped whatever those vehicles were used for they didn't break in the middle of it becasue of how bad a shape they were in. He offered to fix them up a bit be his offer declined. He figured 'what the hell' and gave up. But back to his plans for the day he had a job to do. Bad Company wanted to boost a couple cars today. So once his father and the other employees arrived he left, meeting up with Tomas and Erik. They changed into recognizable clothes, put masks on and grabbed their weapons. Jet already had his pistol on his bike for quick use when riding.

They rolled up to the parking garage where a lot of expensive cars were parked. Erik parked his bike farther away, he was the lookout. Jet, with Tomas on his bike pulled up infront of their target. Jet got to work, plugging into the computer, overriding the alarm before unlocking the door. Tomas quickly got into it and began rewiring. *ding* "Hey!" Some guy came running at them from the elevator.

"Jet?" Erik

"On it." The guy tried punching Jet but he leaned back. He dodged another punch before punching the guy in the chest grabbed him by the throat, lifted him into the air and slamming him back down. Jet saw him hit his head hard. "Taken care of." The sound of the car starting got the three guys going. Once they brought the car to the chop-shop where it would be stripped and it's parts sold off they got paid. After that they went back to their base, and abandoned warehouse in Lowtown. Jet got back into his regular clothes and hung out with the others until the night came and he went to some night club called Metropolis. Loud music (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YZCYpkWj6Z4). flashing lights and skantly clad women were what greeted him when he entered. He took a seat at the bar, the whole bar was lit up by a bright white light. "Well if it isn't Jet! Here to fight again!?"

"You know me!" Jet and the bartender had to shout to hear eachother. The bartender poured Jet a shot and drank it. "On the Don's tab if you would." Jet found enjoyment in annoying the owner of every club he fights in, but he drew in more people so they wouldn't do anything. The clock ticked down and soon the music cut out and the lights dimmed. Jet was called to the dancefloor, he was standing across a twenty one year old man. The guy, named Fang, was covered in more tattoos than he was. Jet didn't say anything as he took off his jacket, shirt amd forearm coverings. The floor they were fighting on was raised two feet off the ground with stairs on the left and right side, the crowed gathered around them, the floor itself was tiled and each flashing a different color. Music (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBNHcp9STQo) kicked on and the fight started.

[GraftRaven]

Cypher heard the explosion from his position three levels below cloudtop where he was preparing to infiltrate a courthouse. He cursed to himself beneath his cloak, security would soon be on its way and any chance of pulling off his stunt would soon be extinguished. The cloaked figure marched out into the almost deserted street, at least at this level reduced rainfall reached the street. Entering a lift that would take him lower, Cypher reviewed his plans. He would need to return to his safehouse, gather intelligence on the place for the next week, make random appearances across the city to keep himself hidden in plain sight.

The lift clatered to a halt and Cypher stepped out and made his way through the drizzle to a section of Lowtown dominated by warehouses, the one aross from his destination he knew to be occupied by a small gang. He finally reached the run-down looking warehouse that belonged to a... well not really a friend, more like a contact, who allowed Cypher to use one of the small office rooms that had been left derelict. Inside there was a small cot, a set of shelves containing various devices, and a rather odd looking computer that seemed scratch built. He hung up his cloak and began typing, recording the events of the day and figuring out exactly where and when he would be over the next three.

An hour later he found himself at a club that, while not exactly his favorite place, was an exelent source of information and the place where he made money by betting on the fights, and sometimes participating himself. Jet was back, but he knew Fang to be a good fighter too. He placed his bets and sat back in a boothto watch, his red eyes lost amongst the flashing lights and lasers of the club, a nearly unnoticeable and slim black tube curling from his mask into a glass on the table.

[skyline339]

It was a long day, or was it days? The days all seemed to flow into one another. Zellitha had no idea how long its been, weeks or months since she finally managed to escape from deathrow. As she walked the streets alone, the large screens had been lit, they were advertising everything from Cola all the way to the latest in condoms. It was a sick and twisted world, and she had been thrown right into the middle of it. Making her way around a corner, a smaller screen came into life as she passed by. "Wanted, Zellitha Darkerence." The screen blinked and showed her profile. Just seeing her own face as wanted infuriated her. Winding up, her fingers crushing together into a fist, Zellitha lunged at the screen punching right through it. The shocks bounced around her synthetic hand and wrist before being shut off by an emergency power down.

"Hey you there. That was private property, you are under arrest." A man walked up behind Zellitha and placed his hand on her shoulder. Quickly Zellitha turned and shoved the officer away from her. It was obvious that far to much force was used as he fell backwards through the air and landed on the ground. He sat there for a moment before he realized who actually was in front of him. "All units, convict a..." His sentence was short lived as Zellitha smashed his helmet, precisly where the com link was located.

"You really think I'm that stupid, that I would let call in backup. What do you take me for." Zellitha said, the slight british accent in her voice making it all the more menacing. Walking over to the cop, she pulled off her glove. "Need a finger print for your file too?" She asked him now, almost with a little psychotic laugh. Drawing her finger from his helmit down to the chin strap, she unhooked it and pulled off the mask. "Let's see whose under this metal face.

The cop was stuck in a daze from the quick and hard punch he had recieved. His head was spinning and his ear was ringing quite loudly. In his daze, all he did was sit there and watch as she manhandled him, uncliping his safety mask. Blinking a few times, he snapped too, but already a moment too late. The moment he tried to counter attack, he found himself looking at the concrete up close. "No no no, I can't let you do that, it's already too late for you, just give up." Zellitha told him in now quite a moking voice.

Hurridly Zellitha spun him around again and kneeled on his chest placing the weight of her synthetic leg directly onto his chest piece. "Oh, my luck." She said in a disapointed sort of way. "Too bad, you were a cute one too, must be new to the force with this fancy shiny new equipment you have. But maybe one kiss wont hurt, at least you wont be able to scream." A large smile spred across her face, she knew she didn't have much time before her nural implants would be shutting her down, inducing her with drugs to keep her under control. Leaning over she kissed his nose, and looked at the fear nestled in his cute little blue eyes. Her own eyes were dancing in their sockets, the synthetic eye had a resemblance to a rubix cube as all the microscopic parts moved and adjusted focus. "I'm sorry kiddo, wrong place wrong time." With those words, she kissed him. His arms began to flail underneath her, but stopped quickly as her right hand smashed through his body. She opened her eyes and looked at the life he had drain from his body. "I'm sorry cutie, you should have walked away." Her hand left hand gently patted him on the head and spread his hair. Gently she kissed him one last time, leaving a lip mark with his own blood that passed from his mouth to hers, on his cheek.

Slowely, she pulled her hand out of his chest and stood up. The drugs were already taking effect on her brain, calming her down, and letting her regain control of herself. Just then a loud explosion rocked the ground around her, looking off into the distance of the flash, an old feeling washed over her, a feeling of duty. It was an old feeling, but it was one she wasn't going to listen to anymore. Turning her attention to the road in the opposite direction, she began to run. It wasn't going to be long before police and fire department show up, at least she didn't want to be caught with her hand stuck in another cops chest. Running to the nearest building, she climbed up one of the water pipes which lead straight to the roof. Once she had made it, she stood there and looked around. More bright lights caught her attention, a club, quickly, Zellitha began making her way towards the club.

Moments later the club loomed in front of Zellitha, the loud booming music, the drunks, and whores all littered the area, perfect place to hide. It seemed to be an easy time to sneak in, most of the bouncers and patrons all gathered around in the main foyer. As she walked in, another women was walking out, a little in a hurry and bumped into Zellith. Almost instantly, the synthetic eye within her skull scanned the womans features and took a picture of her face, as the two looked at each other. Zellith looked back at this women, not amuzed at all, but quickly turning away her focus changed and she entered the club. The last look of this strange women she had was the blood stain she left upon the womens clothes. Inside the music was loud, it blared out all around her, the vibrations coursing through her body. The crowed was cheering for some guy, someone named Jet, but that meant little. Stopping at the bar, she slams her fist down on the counter "Get me a drink, make it strong." She barked at the bartender, this really wasn't her day, well it never has been her day. Grabbing the glass, she downed the shot in one go before slamming it back onto the bar. Blood smeared the glass, and dripped down along the newly formed cracks "Leave the bottle." She said dangerously, but leaving enough money on the bar. Getting up from her seat, she looked around for a more private booth. Finding one that looked to be relitivly far away, she sat down and took another swig straight out of the bottle. How can her life become any worse, her mind was wandering now, as she vaguly watched the two kids fight.

[SQJ]

The Bubble Head was on fire. It was a beautiful day and he'd gotten some incredible chip sets for his boss and a quite a few for himself. He opened his baby blue backpack and stared at a blue jar filled with tiny blue specks. There were millions of them, they looked like chunky glitter, something he was in desperate need of. His last glitter stocks had run out and his special, sparkle king look had long faded drawing attention his his thin gaunt features.
He danced as he made his way through dirty and abandoned street of his neighbourhood. His bastard father had left enough money for him to live up top but he'd instead used the money for more important things, such as the two memory and cognitive learning modules attached to his temples, which was where most of the glitter he bought went to give him the look a sparkly bull with shaved off horns. He was on fire, a king, a golden god. His dancing immediately came to a crashing halt when the sound of electronics being hurt drew his attention.

He turned the corner and watched as an absolutely stunning woman tore through a display panel. He wasn't generally a fan of augments on women, they were a major turn off. It was bad enough his computer got a front seat in watching him masturbate, he still regretting giving his computer his mother's name, but there was something special about this girl. He licked his lip and grinned at the destruction she had caused. He couldn’t imagine a display panel dying a better death than at her hands, if they could still be called that.

Brendan jumped back and hid when an officer of the law turned and moved towards the vandal, who'd done such mean things to that defenceless electronic display board. He didn't want to be called as a witness when the court case came up, also he wanted to see her 'assuming the position' he just hoped she didn't have a robotic ass. If only the other policeman was a sexy, scantly clad, woman who liked playing rough...maybe even two police women.

The strength in his muscles faded when she took the copper down with little effort. He wanted to run for help, scream for the cop. Brendan was too far away to hear anything she was saying but he'd spent too much time in juvenile detention to not know when something 'bad' was going to happen. As he watched her move, he revised his thought from 'bad' to 'fucked up'. He was wholly right.
He shut his eyes for a moment before opening the left eye. She turned and he ducked. He considered running but knew better. People with robotics had a knack of moving up the physical food chain than more regular humans such as him, as far as he was concerned his augments didn't even count.

He waited, she left, he didn't.

Not just yet, there was something to be gained from this, there was always something to be gained from everything, the circle of life and all that jazz. Feeling sure she was far ahead, he moved around the police officer and moved instead to the crushed display panel. People didn't just tear through those things for the fun of it. Out his bag he produced a thin black device. He unfolded it once, twice, three times and linked it wirelessly to his memory augments. Her image including the entire event was loaded onto the black device and it played out in front of him in super high definition. Hundreds of lines ran over the memory footage and he began typing frantically.
The memory was fresh but his thoughts of sex, which had never left him even during the murder appeared to be threatening to distort the image. He began filtering, moving over and over again until the image could not have been clearer with a camera crew to aid. He watched the whole thing again on the large screen but got nothing overly useful out of it. He still didn't know who she was or what level of crazy he was messing with. He instead connected the display panel to the black device ensuring he could not be traced back for moving into the TV network. He found the footage from the moments before the attack, timing the crash of the display panel's destruction to the memory of the crash. He saw her,

'Wanted Zellitha Darkerence.'

He grinned wide and made a run for it.

Eventually when the adrenaline wore off he slowed to a stop, he grinned wide, humming. Money and information for bed buddies and he had the information, he just needed money to catchup. He just had to figure out how.
Telling the cops would be meaningless, she was a wanted crook, the chances of her being in more trouble non existent. Now the chances of him getting into trouble were real, very real. He could of course always sell the information after she was caught, to add to the case but that seemed just as pointless. He scratched his head at this, for a clever guy he was being very dense. Despair began to sink in when an idea hit him like brick to the jaw. Snuff films, people paid good money for those. She was already wanted. I little marketing of her list of crimes and she'd be a superstar, his video would make one sexy fortune. Yet somehow it didn't seem like it was enough. There had to be more that could be earned.

He pondered upon this and entered his regular night club home. He lived on the seventh floor. Although hundreds of men and women crossed behind his feet his home was a safe haven. There were at least two sure fire escape options, one of which was a high powered pulley system which was connected behind his toilet seat. If activated the entire seat would be destroyed and he'd lose he's deposit, so he'd never quite had the chance to test it out but it still made his home a little safer from the police.

Brendan saw a fight going down and stopped to watch it when his alarm clock went off. He needed to replace the coolant for his computer system. The dam thing created more heat than a truck in a heat wave and somehow he know the club owners would take more than his deposit if the entire club burnt down because of his computer. Too excited about his potential money opportunity and installing his new chip sets he turned away from the fight and rushed to the far end of the club where the stairway leading to the much higher floors led. The club wasn't a small one, this seemed more evident the deeper in he went, the sound of the music playing seemed to calm the further he went, he stopped at the door leading to the stairway when the club lights reflected as familiar streak of red. He turned slowly and gaped. There she was.
He bit his lip and tried to act cool, it lasted for no longer than a second before he slammed the door behind him and run up the stairs before stopping at his front doors. He fumbled his bag and pockets for a key card when he realised that the door only needed his finger print. Relieved he jumped into his room, he breathed a sigh of relieve and sat down against his door.
“I'm good, I'm good, I'm a golden god. A fucking genius. She didn't see me. I'm too cool to be seen, even smart bombs can't see me. Yes, yes.” He shut his eyes and let out a one more sigh quivering, pained, of relieve. Now he knew where she was, now this presented more options for his brain to process, he grinned at the prospects.

[Ushima]

"Ready!" The DJ said, It wasn't a queation, more of a formality. The fight would happen if they were ready or not. "Fight!" Fang attacked first swinging a right hook. Jet ducked underneath and landed a left punch. Jet followed up with two more punches, the first hit and Fang blocked the second. Fang held onto Jet's arm. The two struggled but Jet managed to get a decent grip and flipped Fang. The two fighters crashed onto the ground and tried getting up. Jet was quicker though and managed to get the upper hand and began punching and elbowing Fang in the face.

Fang managed to get his leg up and kick Jet off. Both fighters were back on their feet. This time Jet moved first, launching a kick at Fang's head. Fang ducked underneath but was caught by the follow up punch. Jet kicked again but the attack was dodged. Fang moved in quick and kneed Jet in the stomach. Fang's arms came around his neck and Jet received more knees to the gut. Jet didn't waste time and broke out but held onto Fang. He leaned back and delivered a powerful headbutt to Fang. Both fighters stepped away from each other, holding their heads.


"Damn it not now." Jet couldn't see, the blow to his head messed up his eye. "Come on reboot! Shit I gotta get this fixed asap." Jet got punched in the face, he could feel blood coming out of his nose. But that was put on hold as he regained sight. "Hell yeah!" Back in the fight now that he could see he tackled Fang back down and began his punches again. Fang managed to roll both them over after a minute and began his own attack. Jet blocked as best he could, he used the same tactic Fang used to break out. Jet got up as fast as he could and ran over to Fang. He delivered three quick, hard, punches to the head, left right left, then a hard kick to the head. Fang went down. Covered in blood Jet stood over the unconscious heap for a bit, breathing heavily. The crowd cheering snapped him back to reality, Jet raised his right fist in the air and the crowd went wild.

"Good job!" Stepping off the stage, clothes in hand, people kept patting him on the back and congratulating him. "Awesome fight!" Jet just kept walking and bumping fists with club patrons as he made his way to a private area. It was a pit with a long warp around couch in the corner with two tables. Jet was the only one there Closing his eyes he leaned back and let out a long sigh as he wiped off his face with a towel.

"You never disappoint." Jet lowered the towel to see a guy in a white suit sit down a few feet from him. "You made my boss quite a bit of money. A lot of people were betting on you to lose."

"Sorry to disappoint." Jet smirked. "So I assume my pay for this round is rather large?" The man reached inside his jacket pocket, pulled out a stack of bills neatly tied together and set it on the table. Jet picked it up and quickly flipped through it like a deck of cards. ""Perfect." Jet slid the money back over. "Put it into my account." Jet always deposits his money in a seperate account. Couldn't have his parents finding out where all this extra money came from.

"Rest up kid." The man patted Jet on the shoulder. "You fight again in a half hour."

[skyline339]

Placing the bottle down on the table, the noise from the fight brought her back to attention, just as some kid ran by dropping a black box. It was odd, Zellitha's eye snapped a quick photo of his face before he ran away. Her detective skills began coming back, as she slowly stepped up from the seat and made her own way to the door he had entered. Quietly she opened the door and peaked around the corner, the sound of someone scampering up stairs echoed around her. Switching her eye into heat mode, she looked up. There were different levels of heat being detected but that was it, the heat blob moving quickly.

Grabbing ahold of the railing, Zellitha began the journey upstairs, always keeping her attention on the heat blob never letting it out of her sight. Her mind wandered slightly, she thought there was a moving shadow earlier during the "Cop" incident, are they linked? Her mind was spinning, "Who was this kid." She asked herself very quietly. Eventually she made her way to the top of the long flight of stairs. In front of her was the door he had entered. The loud music from downstairs easily drowned out most of the noises, so climbing the stairs wasn't so much of an issue of being loud.

Peaking to all the corners of the hall, it was silent and no one could see her. As she neared the door, a finger scanner bliped up. Slowly, but firmly she rapped on the door with her now gloved hand. Carefully she scanned around for any holes for traps or any other convenient way of hurting someone. Placing her right hand near her side, where her gun was placed, she was ready incase any form of aggression was there. "In and out." She told herself, "That's all you need to do, return the item."

[Xanthuss]

Damien stared distastefully at the crowds of people that filled the nightclub below for a few seconds, before he turned to face the occupants of the VIP rooms in which he stood. Sitting on the couch, while studying a black PDA, was Miss. Athena, Damien's secretary, dressed up in a grey two pieces suit, and with a new hairdo, a tight bun in to which her black hair was constricted. Next to her, his hands folded in his lap, was an official looking man in a black suit, Graeme Trizonomo, CEO of Tark Media and one of Damien's most loyal friends.

Standing in the background, partly hidden by the shadows, was Gab, suited out in black armour and looking very much like a mercenary. "You may wish to make your bodyguard leave Damien, he isn't exactly a very friendly looking figure." Graeme said, glancing nervously at Gab.
"Gab, please activate stealth." Damien said, studying the man who was now being escorted towards the VIP level by a burly bouncer. Behind him Gab seemingly dissolved, causing Graeme to gasp in shock.

"Mr. X to see you." The bouncer informed them as the sliding glass doors slid open, letting in a blast of loud music and air scented with the smell of sweat, bear and other horrible things, and a short man in a trench coat much to big for him stepped in to the room. The bouncer quickly vanished, and the doors slide closed, locking out the music, while the air conditioning quickly removed the stink.

"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Trizonomo, Miss. Athena, and Mr. Mellbreen." X said, as he shuffled a hand around in his pocket and pulled out a cigar and a lighter, and proceeded to light the cigar. "I want you to create me another Gab, in return I will give you certain files that you need." Mr. X said, getting down to business quickly. "And Mr. Trizonomo will just need to pretend that his system has been hacked, but in reality he will be giving me 5 minutes TV time on his news show." X said, a slow and evil grin spreading over his face.
"No way would I give you a Gab, even If I could create another." Damien said, "I destroyed the technology after creating Gab, I was not about to let anyone get a Gab that they can then sell to the government." Damien muttered.

"Very well then, I will have to give the files to the government instead, they have already offered me a million dollars, a high security government testing warehouse and a pardon for all my previous and future offences." X said, turning towards the sliding doors again. "I know you can create another Gab, Mr. Mellbreen, your company can create most anything it wishes, the Gab Tech is only one of your simpler inventions." X said, smiling evilly and leaving the room quickly. The removal of the stench of his fragrant cigar a welcome relief to Miss. Athena, who had been getting a headache from it.

"Well, what do we do? I know you need what ever is in those files Damien." Graeme said, standing and walking over to watch Mr. X vanish out the doors of the nightclub. "What are those files by the way?"
"Something that I must not let the government get, the passcodes that allow for the control of a technology of unimaginable power... I don't even know why I created that technology." Damien said, his voice tense as he struggled to keep his anger at bay.

"Sir, someone to see you." A young, barely clad woman informed them as she peaked through the door, before quietly vanishing to let a tall, raven haired woman in a scarlet dress enter. "Ah, Damien, Damien, why oh why did you let him get those passcodes?" The lady said, grinning to show she really didn't care that he'd lost the codes. "I just wanted to let you know that all is lost for you." She said mysteriously, while still grinning, before stepping back out in to the nightclub, and hooking her arm around a handsome young man, and pulling him away to a darkened corner.

________________

[SQJ]

Brendan had only just made it to his feet when there was a knock on his door. Butterflies filled his stomach. Switching on the display panel on his door, tiny cameras on the top and bottom corners of is door activated and on the wall next to Brendan's head was a 3D image of the psycho killer, she still had blood on her. The dead copper's blood, soon to be his blood. The butterflies quickly turned into chainsaws. Brendan was by no means a short man but he could already feel himself being cut down by the fear which tore at him mercilessly.

This isn't how it was supposed to end! I still have more hacking to do! I still need to crack the system, the whole system. He screamed inside his own mind. His brow furrowed and he got to work.

The front of his door, was of a very simple, electronic design and made out of the same, light glass and plastic as any display panel before behind weighed down by steel at the bottom and top of the door itself. But his door was unique in the fact that it was layered with a plastique vinyl which made his door bulletproof for up to three shots and shatterpoof, but not strong at all, especially at the hinges where steel met glass meaning that only a few hits would bring the entire door crashing down. The display door lit up and an image of an Asian man about his size and height stepped from a differently designed room. The Asian had three others with him, all bigger than him.
“Yes? Can we help you?” the recording said. “I am Yun Sing and this is-” The Asian man rambled on, buying Brendan time.

On the other side of the door over a dozen preparations were being made. His Computer hadn't been compromised so there was no need to leave or destroy it, going against his 70% of his escape strategies. He lifted the tower which wasn't small the thing was over a meter high and weighed half as much as he did. Then there was the UPS and the coolant system which was actually as heavy as he was. Those would need to be left along with everything else. He attached his Tower to his toilet seat and tied a rope to his baby blue back pack which was now filled with clothing before he went back to the door his entire body quivering with anticipation and dread.

He had a plan, he'd talk to her, use his sharp mind to out smart her, record everything and run it on a live feed to a data storage unit elsewhere. That way if this all didn't work they'd know who killed him. If things got hostile he'd press his hand to the wall on his left, her right, and the pulley would activate pulling him away. He pictured the pulley dragging his tower away and his bag straps snapping, leaving him behind. No, he wasn't stupid, his backpack was of the highest quality and unique in its straps, it'd survive the pull. The only issue would be if he'd survive the pull. God he hoped he didn't have to press the button. He leaned again the obsolete emergency escape door handle and peeped through the key hole. She was still a sight to behold. The metal was unfortunate, the fact that she was a killer was unfortunate too.

The Asian and his friends suddenly froze and Brendan called from the other side. “Yeah? What do you want?” He called.

[Selothi]

The don was still staring at the spot occupied moments ago by Lara, unable to believe that he'd been contacted, had actually been face to face, with this legend, this myth of the underworld. It was rather intimidating to be honest, he felt out of his depth. It'd been years since that name had been pronounced in more than just hushed tones, and suddenly, out of the...

Somebody was knocking at the door.

"Come in !" shouted Mr. Kalan. The door snapped open and shut again in an instant, some youngster with spiked hair and an over-revealing tanktop staring at him, gasping for breath. "What is it boy ?" The messenger took a bit of time to gather his thoughts, before finally starting: "You're not gonna like this boss. A cop was found murdered a few minutes ago. Your guys out in the field, they ... ?"

A silent curse exited the don's mouth. The another, and in fact what followed was a string of expletives as the man swallowed what he'd just been told. "You mean to tell me that a cop has been found dead tonight ? Fuckin' hell boy ! The last time that happened, we had to shutdown ops for more than a week due to the extra patrols. Bugger off now, thanks for the info. Scram !" The boy obeyed immediately, leaving Mr. Kalan to decide on what to do next.

While Arno, Jasper and Tinman were supposed to come back tomorrow morning, since the body was already discovered, there'd be extra patrols within the next hour in Downtown along with the expected full lockdown of Cloud level as they dealt with the fire caused by the explosions.

"It's never easy, is it ..."

------------------------------------------

The three of them were hastily making their way to the safehouse they'd spend the night in when Arno's phone rang. "Listen, Arnot, it's me. Let's make this quick. We got a blue that got snagged down in the roots, so now we're gonna have more blues all over. You getting back home for breakfast is going to be a big no no, so you gotta make your way here now to your Dad's, or else. I mean it, don't ask questions, get here." Even beneath the coded language, Arno had sensed that the boss was tense. What was this then ? A cop getting killed ? It didn't happen that often to be honest, the Downtown policemen were walking suits of protective armor and anti-personnel equipment, and notorious hard-asses. No wonder the boss was so pissed.

"Change of plan guys: we're heading to the nightclub right now. A cop got shanked back in Downtown, if we don't hoof it quick we'll be tip-toeing around patrols out with questions, so let's get moving." The other two started asking questions as Arno did a sharp right turn and hastened his pace. They could get to the club fairly fast, even in this awful rain. Besides, Arno had done the trip enough times to know it all too well.

Within ten or so minutes, they were tossing their drenched coats to the doorman, a knowing nod signalling them as locals. Arno told Jasper and Tinman to get some drinks while he met the boss head-on behind the club. As he waded through the veritable ocean of people and the invisible cloud of sweat and booze they kicked up, he noticed the bare-knuckle fight going on stage. His car mechanic who'd done the necessary fixes to their two wrecks to turn them into the tools of a terrorist was pitted evenly against some other bloke, unknown. They were both pretty battered, blood on their face and sweat matting their hair. Too many coincidences happening at once, Arno didn't like it. Popping a Mentats in his mouth, he made for the fake-wood door leading him to an earful from his boss, and with a resigned sign, stepped into the warm air of Mr. Kalan's office.

[skyline339]

It was odd that this kid went to so much trouble in hiding. Hiding in his room like a coward, but hey some people can't fight. Flipping the black box in her hand, Zellitha calls out after she finally hears him talk. "Your dummy is really quite realistic, too bad I can see right through him. If you really want this box back, why not leave the room and come find me. I can't stand cowards. You really don't want me to come in there anyways."

With that being said, she turned and walked down the stairs, back into the loud noisy area of the bar. Moments later, after coming in through the door, a larger man, obviously drunk, pushed himself through the crowd. His eyes locked onto her, hoping for an easy night. Moving away from the man, she found her seat again and sat down, slamming the bottle down onto the table once more. It wasn't more than a few minutes later that the large fellow found out where she was sitting and sat down in front of her. Instantly his arms reached out and grabbed her by the wrist as she took another gulp of her drink. Her eye darted towards the man and locked onto him, as he moved in closer to her. Letting the bottle drop down, it spilled over the table.

Flipping control of his arm, she now grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him really close. "I recomend you leave me alone right now." Zellitha whispered to him before letting him go. The drunk quickly got up, and left her alone, giving her a nasty look, before sitting down with another women a few tables down. Picking up the bottle again, she looked inside the glass, and watched the liquid inside vibrate with the tone of the music going on. Slowly she took out the black box, and examined it. What ever it was, really wasn't that important to him. carefully she began pressing different buttons on the device, trying to figure out how to unlock it.

[GraftRaven]

[Note: Permission given by Selothi]

Cypher had gotten up from his table, left his payment on said table, and transferred his winnings to a secure account before he was ready to leave the club. It took him a considerable amount of time to wade through the sea of bodies blocking the exit, but when he finally neared it he spotted a few out of place looking people around the edges of the crowd: Cops.

Suddenly the music cut off and the main lights of the building came on as the others shut off. Orders were being shouted and slowly being complied to, they were simple: Stop what you're doing, sit on the floor or stay in your seat, keep your hands to yourself.

He was ready to run, surely one of the drunker patrons would cause a disturbance. Sure enough, as the ring of compliance closed inward a punch was thrown, the drunkard was put in a headlock and kicked several others, then when they tried to retaliate they were restrained, but not before the sparks of a full blown bar-fight had ignited the tension in the room. People ran for the doors, joined the fight, or just tried to escape the situation by hiding under a table or the bar.

The cops had pulled riot shields, truncheons, tasers, guns loaded with low-velocity rubber bullets, and teargas-grenade launchers, all effective crowd control devices and all flying around the room as cops and patrons were both losing.

Luckily Cypher knew of a secret exit at the back of the club, one that was concealed and not on any maps, and therefore unprotected by the police. He hurried to the back of the club and, upon finding the artificial wood door he thought led to the knot of hallways that housed the exit it was locked, so he smashed it in with almost no effort, shattering the thin material into splinters. What he found was not the hallway he expected, but an office with two people within, and one of them was the Don.

"Shit..." The word escaped him involuntarily as he froze, he knew he would be getting an earful soon enough.

[Xanthuss]

"Sir, SIR!" Miss. Athena screamed, as police streamed in to the nightclub below. "P-police!" She stuttered, going pale as a police office pushed his way in to the VIP suite. "Hands where I can see them! Drop your weapons!" The copper roared, as two more officers pushed past the now unconscious bouncer and in to the suite.

"Good god!" Graeme Trizonomo cursed as he jumped to his feet. "Gab, protocol d3.1" Damien said calmly as he stood up. Suddenly one of the police officers was down, slumped dead on the floor with a dagger in his throat. Then Gab appeared, turning off his invisibility shielding, and swung his rifle but at the next cops head. A sharp crack and a spurt of blood announced to the world that the police man was dead. The last man pulled his pistol out of its holster and fired. The bullet missed Gab's head by inches and hit the glass sliding door, shattering the safety glass in to hundreds of tiny pieces. A second later Gab had grabbed the mans arm, twisted it sharply, and swung the man up off the ground. The police officer flew through the window and a sickening thud and crunch followed by screams signalled that he had landed on to crowd below.

"I said protocol d3.1! not protocol t3.1!" Damien ranted as Gab and Graeme grabbed him and pulled him towards a hidden door in the back of the VIP suites. Behind him a hysterical Miss. Athena backed in to the hidden passage and slammed it shut, seconds before a group of Police officers charged in to the VIP rooms.

"Disappear!" Damien hissed at Gab, who did just that straight away. "Miss. Athena, get me an armoured sports car ready to get us out of here straight away." Miss. Athena whispered in to a discreet microphone, and a screech of brakes in the alleyway outside a few minutes later announced the car. Graeme kicked the door open, and pushed Damien in to the flash white sports car, seconds after the remote controlled doors had finished opening. A white Miss. Athena bundled herself in to the car next, then Graeme slid in to the front passenger. Gab, re-appearing once again, vaulted over the bonnet, and slid in to the drivers seat. The doors slammed shut and the car shot forward.

A rocket launcher popped out of the bonnet of the car, swivelled sideways and locked on to its target, a police car. "Missile fired!" a cool mechanical voice informed the occupants of the car, seconds before a rocket shot out of the launcher, and collided with its target milliseconds later. Flames consumed the police car as the sleek white sports, now with Missile Launcher retracted, screamed out of the alley, and skidded down the street.

[Ushima]

Jet was just sitting in his booth, a pink haired girl under his left arm and a black and green haired girl under his right. That's one of the perks to fighting. You win and the women want to be on your arm, as long as you keep winning. He was watching the next fight, seeing who his next opponent might be. So far he was unimpressed and he yawned in boredom. Though he would soon get his excitement as the cops soon busted into the club. "Damn!" The two girls ran and Jet quickly got up, putting his shirt and coat on quickly. A cop came at him, swinging a club. Jet disarmed him and turned the cluub on him.

People were everywhere, fighting, running, screaming, getting arrested. That was one thing he didn't need. He was sure if they caught him and run his prints they'd connect them to his crimes no problem. He needed to get out. Working for the Don as a fighter he knew of a special way out, fighting off three guys he made his way to the back and out a secret exit. Making sure no one was watching he slipped out. He came face to face with the Don. In his entire time fighting he only saw the boss mayby three times, but he'd never forget the man who gave him the opportunity.

[Selothi]

Arno was sure that despite the ruckus of the nightclub beyond the Don's office door, the whole crowd could hear his bellowing voice. "Bloody hell Arno, we have a cop who's been completely savaged found right after a fucking car bomb in Cloud level, can't you understand what this fucking means ? We're toast. Cops are going to storm all of Downtown looking for culprits and testimonies. I can't run a fucking illegal business with you screwing up like this !"

For the 'nth time, Arno repeated: "Boss, I didn't kill the fucking cop; his tone growing ever more exasperated; we didn't even go via that route." The boss undid a shirt button and pulled out a cigar, lighting it instantly. "I don't care, boy; he had an uncanny knack to always call people 'boy', all the time; we have to cut short operations, not just for tonight or tomorrow, but at least a fucking week. Shit shit shit, the money we're going to lose on this, and all because of that fucking Upheaval ..." Arno was about to argue further when he heard the U word. His tone dropped instantly. "Mr Kalan, what did you just sa..." The don's intercom crackled at once and he activated loud-speaker: "...'ve got cops coming down 35th and 36th, they're patrolling all large streets, with dog squads around the backs. We've intercepted comms that they're storming all major nightclubs for info on the dead cop and bombings. We're in the shit, sir."

The don didn't answer, cutting off the comm link. He spun on his heel, turning his back to Arno and peeked through the blinds of his window. As purple neon light filtered in, so did he peer out, as if expecting a police patrol to be waving at him just there. He turned again, teeth clamping down heavily on the cigar, spreading tobacco onto the front of his pearly white teeth. He opened the comm link again: "Yeah, wires ? Get expedient orders to all the drug runners, hackers, robbers, you name it, everyone out working to stop immediately and act natural." His crime syndicate was very well organized, but they'd never had to react to such a sudden surge of activity from the police. Understandably though, the last act of terrorism in this part of Cloudtop dated back to a few months back, and it was always considered a burglary more than terrorism. Cypher's handiwork was very good, that the don had to admit. Normal that police were reacting this way.

Speak of the devil. Mouth ajar, he witnessed the bugger smash through his office's door. "What the fuck, Cypher ?!" and then the ruckus of the nightclub filtered in completely. It wasn't the patrons' cheers they'd been hearing, it was their shouts of fear as police stormed the building. Within seconds, riots had broken out. Figures: drunken revellers and riot police don't mix, even if the latter's intention had not been to fight.

Arno was the first to break the awkward pseudo-silence between the three: "Boss, we need to get you; shit, we need all of us to get out of here before we're clubbed, gassed or cuffed, got it ? You must have some way of getting out besides the bloody window right ?"

Aw shit, another newcomer. The mechanic-slash-fighter had now joined their merry little company. Immediately, the don pointed his mangled cigar at the man: "What the fuck are you doing here ? We can't have every single nitwit of the club coming in here. Goddamnit, block the doorway with the desk while I gather some stuff and let's get the hell out of here."

Arno motioned at the other two to help him with the heavy wooden desk, and suddenly got a far better look of this man named Cypher's face, or at least his heavy-duty gas-mask, tubes, overcoat, the works. Either a freak, or a cripple, if not both. That wouldn't help him move the desk. "Come on, heave people. We've got to get out of here !"

At this point, Arno didn't care who these people were. As the club lights went off and normal lighting was switched on, and despite the cloud of pepper spray, the police were making good progress rounding up the patrons of the club and they'd get here soon enough. And rappelling out of the window without a rope wasn't a particularly tempting notion.

Just to add to the confusion, an explosion rocked the room, the sound of screeching wheels piercing through it, punctuated by a collective "What the ... ?". As the three men shoved the desk against the empty doorway, Arno turned to see the don stick an external hard-drive into a backpack, some loose files and his box of cigars as well. He had his priorities sorted. "There's a gravitic lift under these drawers but with power cut, I have no idea how hard we'll hit the ground at all. That is if it doesn't even just shoot us upwards instead. We should get down to street level if it works though, and I want to leave this fucking chaos as soon as possible." As he pushed the drawers out of the way along their wheels, and lifted the hatch, he gestured to Arno and the two newcomers in his office: "So, who's first ?"

[SQJ]

Brendan’s mind reeled. “What's she on about?” He asked himself. How could he have left anything behind? He stopped his panicked thinking for a moment. She'd left. Why? Why leave? Had she seen him? Had she not? Had he dropped something in his haste? Was he that stupid? He paused for a moment letting his inner machisist take hold, yes, you can be, it said calmly.
He clapped his hands together constantly, a nervous tick of his.

One breath, he didn't calm, two breaths, nothing, three, finally his thoughts started to come back to him. He wasn't stupid that situation should have turned out badly she could see him, which meant she should have burst through the door, or depending on how cybernetic she actually was, she could smash through the walls. Most contractors didn't use cement on its higher levels any more, this building was no exception. Instead his external scanners said she'd actually left. There was a likely chance she would come from the window but one press of the button would lead to him and half his equipment smashing right into her.

No, he thought to himself as he started to hyperventilate, she's down stairs I can feel it. He un hooked himself prepping his room for a quick escape. It didn't seem likely that he'd be using it but if he needed to run away this was the best place. Hell yeah, he thought to himself as he stared at him contraption.

Slowly carefully he made his way down the stairs, ready to make a dash for it if she pounced, but nothing she actually wasn't there. He tucked the butcher knife he had under his sleeve and proceeded into the club.

He grinned a little, it looked like he was in a little less trouble than he'd originally thought. Once his mind started to clear of the fear he felt his imagination start to run again. He grinned to himself as he fingered the handle of the butcher knife. The club was just as loud as ever, he could come right up to her without being seen. It would be great. His blade would slip right under her shirt, his free hand wrapped around her waist under her top, he'd press the blade softly but firmly to her ribs just under her diaphragm not to close to her breast so it made him look like a pervert but high enough so she knew that one thrust would plunge the blade into her heart. He'd be firm calm and compelling. She'd swoon, she'd give him everything he wanted and more. Unless her chest is metal too His brain said making his hopes crack but not shatter, that wasn’t likely. He wasn't even sure he'd heard of such a thing.

It dawned on him how long it had been since his last him having non hacker sex. Female hackers were covered in tattoos and piercings, spouting words only other hackers could understand. Non hacker females were another roll of dice. He clapped his hands together nervously and nearly dropped his blade. Calming himself once again he opened the door. A wave of chaos fell over him. Two people stepped on his foot as they ran past.
Crash the crowd started to turn to his direction, it took allot to avoid the mob which tired to escape to his doorway. He swore and was about to turn when he thought about that women....then the prospect(No matter how minuscule of sex), then all his tech. His tech won and he turned to leave, but his loins fought back and he ran into the night club, he saw her.

She looked to be getting up with her bottle. He ran up to her, half his plan still in his mind when he was accidentally in the nose with her free hand. He fell to his knees screaming and holding his face. He was blinded by the strike, something which wasn't phlegm in the back of his throat and he hacked and choked. He suddenly stood up holding his face, his blade long forgotten.
“Auuuck!!” He swore, “Auuuuuck Mbeh! Comb bith meh ibth you doth wan jail go!” He said before hobbling and running back for his room, which as it turned out was going to be hard. The police looked to be fighting tier way to the door to cut off the escapees and there was a crowd in the way. He swore as he foght his way forwards. He needed to get to his room. His tech would be confiscated if it was still in the room when the cops arrived.

[skyline339]

An extra thunk, and some kid yelling at her. It took a moment to realize, but it was "THAT" kid. A thought occured to her for a moment before Zellitha's mind locked back onto what was going on, he's got balls. The cops began pouring into the nightclub, using her synthetic eye, she forced a lock onto him, before turning fast and smashing a cop in the jaw. It wasn't that she liked killing cops, but none were real justice seakers anymore, they all just wanted to line their own pockets with gold. Scanning the room around her, she noted that this was just the new kids, being tested. In some ways, deep down, she wished they would have sent a Darkrunner, but they had no leads on her locations, and besides this was not how Darkrunners work.

Dodging blow after blow, the cops really had no idea who they were up against. Blood from many of the patrons already splattered across most of there shiny uniforms, giving them almost a devilish feel. From the corner of her eye, she watched "The Kid" run across the room, she knew he had answers. She watched him run, get out of here you piece of shit, she thought to herself, before noticing a larger cop barraling towards him. In a matter of less than a second, Stim flowed through her body entering her heart and slowing everything down. Inside her ear, the drum of war, her heart beat powerfully, THUMP THUMP THUMP. It was all that she could hear. Pushing off from her vantage point, everyone moved slowly, that's what Stim does, accelerates the human brain to extreme levels for combat advantages, only those with hightened nural implants could handle the drug, but she loved it. Grabbing onto a man's head, she used it as a lever for herself, as now her feet planted themselves upon his shoulders before jumping off his body. Everything was so quiet, if not for the beating of her heart, but it was almost like a dance beat. Flipping through the air, she grabbed onto the kid and through him up against the wall before smashing into him, just as the cop barelled into her back. The impact vibrated through her body, a normal human would have been crushed by that impact. Raising her face towards the nerd she just saved, flames whiped through her eye, as her synthetic eye rolled back into her skull, and in less than a second a barel spun, a gun was cocked with a small click and a ear defining bang echoed throughout the club.

The bullet flew through the air, first smashing into the face of the Cop who charged. The bullet then continued and met face to face with another cop holding his baton, ready to smash another patrons face in. The bullet passed easily through the armor, skull and brains of that cop before hitting one last one directly in the eye. The bullet then rested in a deep hole in the back wall. A second ago, the noise was rediculous, now silence, as the three cops stood there with a dumbfounded look upon there face, before falling dead to the floor. As some of the cops look up and get a look at who fired the shot, many of them had reconized her and began walking backwards. Slowly Zellitha whispered into the "The Kids" ear. "Play with me, and you'll get out of this alive." Grabbing him, spinning him to face forwards, and squeeze him against her breasts like a shield, she held the revolver.

The Revolver was an ancient weapon, but very powerful, being a .500 magnum. The weapon glinted off the light in the room, there were many who would pay a fortune for such a gun. The hand chizzeled cobra, followed the length of the barrel before ending at the stock, where the cobra looked to be biting into the hand of the user. It was a beautiful piece indeed. "If any of you fucking decide to move, the kid get's it. I'm pretty sure ALL of you know who I am, and how I do things don't you." She began to laugh, before closing her eyes. At that moment one of the cops moved to lift up a gun, but at that same moment, a loud click echoed through the room as the bullet was loaded into the chamber in her own gun. "Don't think that just because my eyes are closed, I can't see you." Zellitha said loudly, "Now get the fuck out of my way, and don't follow me, or." She stopped suddenly, giving her hostage and gentile kiss on the cheek. "Get's it."

As she kissed him on the cheek, she whispered once again to him. "You better start looking like your freaken out, or you may see your brains splatter on the wall." She said in an angry whisper. Slowly, she began pulling him towards the small stairwell in the back of the nightclub, where she had come from earlier, and where she persumed was his apartment. Walking slowly and surely, she walked to the door. The large metal door slid open for them, inviting them to climb. Walking backwords, still holding him in front of her, she closed the door. The second the door closed, she smashed the control console on the door, disabiling it from the inside. Noises could already be heard from the other side. Men were trying their hardest to open the door, it would slow them down, but not stop them. Holstering her weapon, Zellitha gave him that death glare of go, or stay behind and die, as she looked up at him, from the step below.

[Xanthuss]

"Location achieved." The computer informed those inside Invincible v2. The car came to a stop outside a huge abandoned warehouse. Underneath the car a click signalled the beginning of the security procedure. A bright red laser scanned the cars occupants, and when there identities had been confirmed, the ground under the car began to descend. A lift was taking the entire car down to the safe house.

Another panel of ground slid in to replace the one now carrying the car down, leaving no trace the car had been here. A high tech scrambler system would kill all bugs and surveillance systems that may have been slipped to a member of the Upheaval, and anyone who was not confirmed to be part of the movement would be neutralised and then the mess would be cleaned up by drones, within seconds.

Further down the tunnel the lift came to a stop, and a drone slid up to them. "Please exit the car and follow me, good gentlemen and madams." The drone said, as it turned again, and slid towards a huge steel blast door. As Damien, Gab, Graeme and Miss. Athena exited the car a tiny probe floated up to the faces of those gathered and scanned them.

"Identification confirmed." The probe informed each of them, before flying off again. Damien quickly strode over to the door, and leant down to scan his retina. The others followed suit, and the huge blast doors rumbled open slowly.

"Welcome to Deadly Nightshade!" A humanoid drone informed them as the doors slide shut behind them. In front of them a gleaming steel bunker spread out. A crowd of technicians scurried from wall to wall, all of which were covered in control panels, computer monitors and TV screens. A huge master control system filled the center of the room, and armed guards stood at attention in every corner and at every door.

Doorways lead out to rooms marked with names like 'Sleeping Quarters - Male' 'Sleeping Quarters - Female' 'Recreational Rooms' 'Gym' 'Kitchens' 'Dinning Room' 'Armoury' 'Drone Re-charge Quarters' 'HQ', and many others. Every door was made of reinforced steel, and retina, fingerprint and handprint scanners were positioned next to each. Armed drones glided through the crowds, and the holographic head of an AI floated above one of the control panels.

"This is the headquarters for all operations related to... you know what." Damien explained, as yet another drone flew past. "2000 people live here full time. Of those 300 are technical officers, 50 are medical staff, 300 are scientists and researchers, 50 are drone controllers, 500 are political enemies of the government, 500 are armed guards, and the other 300 are assorted people, like bomb experts, plant experts, ex-government officers turned informants, public relations offices and many other things."

"Impressive." Graeme muttered, before he was swept away by a drone, which informed him the AI wished to speak to him. "Nice set up, Sir." Gab said as the remaining three of them entered the door marked HQ. After several scans and a lie detector test they were finally allowed to enter. "General Strifeworthing at your service." A rigorous military man said, as he shook their hands. Miss. Athena collapsed in to a chair, and sighed, while Gab began to study the many displays.

"Is he allowed to do that?" The General asked, as Gab began to play with the settings on a computer console.
"Meet Gab, the ultimate warrior. He can dispatch ten people in a minute flat, and learn a language in the same time. He is part organic super-computer, part super-warrior." Damien said, with a smile. A technical officer was currently staring at Gab in wonder. "We've been trying to work out that glitch for the entire day and you fixed it in 5 minutes!" The technical officer said in awe.

[GraftRaven]

Cypher looked back into Arno's eyes for a few seconds, he could see that the boy thought he would be no help at all. Well, the time was ripe to show him how wrong he was. Cypher hefted his share of the desk with relative ease, not making a sound the entire time, and then watched as the drawers were pushed aside and the hatch opened. Nobody seemed to want in first, so he stepped forward. "For f--- sake people, its just a door leading to a lift that might kill us all, don't tell me you're less afraid of a slow rot in jail."

And with that Cypher took one last step before dropping neatly through the hole, arms crossed over his chest. There was no turning back now and, as he dropped his stomach seemed to drop out of him, that familiar feeling of freefall. He looked down and could see a patch of light rapidly approaching, this was the exit, and the floor. He felt a sudden twinge of anti-gravity, but did not think it would be enough. Then, instinctively he threw out his arms and thrust his hands into the sides of the shaft, slowing himself down to a stop.

Debris from his descent fell around him, then began slowing to a comfortable flow downwards. Cypher drew his arms in and gently floated down the remaining distance. When he reached the bottom he called up. "Seems to be working alright now, had to give it a minute though... you still might want to be careful."

[Ushima]

Once given the all clear he approach the lift. "Uh." Jet gazed down. "Ah the hell with it." He jumped in next. Descending fast, it was quite a thrill. Soon though he started to approach the end and began slowing himself down. "Incoming!" He called out before dropping to the ground in a croutch. "Clear!" He called back up. And so far it was, but that didn't mean the situation could change. Reaching inside his coat he drew his red and gold revolver. Pulling the hammer back with an audible click he moved to the end of the alley. He checked for cops, so far not finding anything. That brought a round of questions to Jet's mind. Why had they busted in? Were they looking for something? Someone? Didn't matter though, he didn't have time. Jet was stuck with the Don and he'd do what he can to protect his boss.

[Selothi]

Perhaps the cripple wasn't that crippled after all. He'd helped make light work of the desk, and with a confident leap, jumped down into a rarely-used gravitic lift knowing full well of the fluctuating power the nightclub had right now. That made him a mad cripple: Arno hadn't expected anyone to so readily agree jumping down the goddamn shaft, but hey, at least the guy hadn't crashed to his death. Nor had the car mechanic-come-boxer, either.

Shit was really hitting the fan behind them. The riot police had the upper hand, and the scene of destruction that greeted his gaze back inside the nightclub was harrowing: splintered wood, torn up plastic all lay strewn across the ground, a few lifeless bodies mingling with them. Screams still erupted all over, begun anew by that huge gunshot. Nothing short of a Magnum could make that sound, and no cops ever carried that calibre: some gun nut must've been in tonight. Arno could see specks of blood on the nearest wall, could still feel the gunshot echoing in his head. How the hell had this all gone so wrong ? "Arno boy, we need to get moving. I'll cover your ass, you get down there, now !"

Wrenched from his millisecond-long retrospection, the young man didn't argue. Casting a final look at the hell they were escaping from, Arno turned to the small circular hole in the ground, faint blue aura emanating from it. "A small step for man ..." he whispered, nodding to the Don as he jumped into the shaft. Arms held firmly to his sides, trenchcoat billowing wildly about him, his lungs couldn't help letting out a scream in the form of a cuss as he plummeted downwards. For the time being, the lift was having no effect, and while the two previous users sounded alive, he was paranoid enough to believe the thing could fail at any time. The ground loomed ever closer, as did the sinking feeling of anti-gravity, forming a huge steely ball in his stomach as his whole body mass was slowed down. Arno shot out from the bottom, emerging in a sloppy roll as he tried to cushion the fall. Dazed, but unscathed, Arno shouted up to the Don: "All fine down here !" A distant "OK" reached his ears, as the three of them waited for their final companion to arrive. "So, what the fuck do we do no..."

There's a clichéd but characteristic sound whenever power fails: the shutdown of all electrical equipment always sounds the same, yet at this given time, it had never sounded more ominous. The streetlights switched off for a few seconds, the lights from the nightclub followed suit. Arno ran up to the bottom of the shaft, shouting at the top of his lungs "Boss, no !" It was too late though, he could already make out the man's dark form careening down the lift, arms tight around a backpack. Power came on a few seconds before the end of his fall, cushioning his fall, but not much ...

Another characteristic sound is that of breaking bones. It never ceases to make you cringe, never ceases to wrench your guts and knot your stomach. In the relative silence of a Downtown night, that noise still echoed out unhampered. The boss was screaming his guts out, at least both legs broken by his violent fall. A small cloud of dust from impact still trailed about him, as Arno cursed and cursed again, grabbing the man's backpack and popping his Mentats tube in the man's mouth to stop him from biting his own tongue to shreds. "Fuck ! Anyone go... got painkillers ? Something, morphine, drugs, goddmanit anything ? We need to get the man to a hospital or some shit pronto ! Where's the nearest bloody hospital guys ?"

How worse could the day get now ?

[SQJ]

The next ten minutes of his life were a blur of fear and pain. It started with his moronic choice to take a shot at that woman. Not since his idea to hack the government had he ever made such a bad choice.

Everything happened in a tearful blur. The blur of police uniforms pouring in with a large number of them moving directly towards the girl who happened to be moving towards him. FUCK! he swore in the safety of his head alone. They swarmed. Brendan shut his eyes. They were both going to get cheezed(The same as getting creamed, it just lasted longer)

Thud! Crack! Smack!

The police blurs retreated. The demon woman didn't, if anything she got closer. FUCK!
She held onto him with those cyborg arms of hers, he rose up and forwards only to crash into the wall. He heard elevator music to match his currently elevated state. But the woman crashing into him killed it and he quickly realised he'd been knocked out.

She whispered into her ear but he didn’t respond. He wasn't sure how to. She flung him around as though he were nothing and he was blasted into her chest, facing outwards. This part, wasn't so bad. It was hard to complain when one's ears were being warmed by the breasts of any woman.

Oddly enough that one thing put his thoughts back on track. He started to panic pointlessly pulling at her arms. “Help! Somebody save me!”


"If any of you fucking decide to move, the kid gets it. I'm pretty sure ALL of you know who I am, and how I do things don't you."

He resented being called a kid. After all he was 23 years old turning 24 at the end of the year. Who was she to call him a kid? The comment deserved a snarky remark but he wasn't stupid. It could wait. He could save it for when he was free and staring down the barrel of her supercharged fists, moments away from being beaten to death to remove 'witnesses', assuming she did that kind of thing. He really didn't like the way she'd said they knew how she did thinks. He didn't know. He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

His mind was racing, she was moving backwards, heading towards the stairway. Had she been to this building before? No. Doubtful. She wouldn't have gotten caught out in this kind of deadlock if she knew about the building, something about her words made that theory seem truly unlikely. She was following the path she'd taken to his room earlier. There was something very less than comforting about that thought.

She kissed his cheek, her lips were soft and wet and made the blood rushing to his head consider moving down instead of up, it changed things. But only slightly, even being turned on did not change everything not with the fucking hand cannon she'd just produced, seemingly from nowhere.

The cops, shockingly enough, seemed to comply to her demands. He'd never been more disappointed, not that he wanted a shoot out, but them drawing back the way they were was bullshit. She got out behind the steel armoured door which had been put in a while back to cut off fires, most of the passages had them, and she crushed the panel separating herself from the rest of them and for the first time she loosened her grip.

Brendan fell to his knees coughing. He swore when he felt he could breath again, he swore again because the first cuss had not been enough. “Damn you!” He yelled forcing himself to his feet. He swayed loosing his sense of balance completely. He tried to point to her but ended up falling against the wall. Something was wrong, very wrong. “Don't threaten me” he said to the wall, unable to regain his balance. His ears rang. A single streak of blood rolled down his forehead. He swore. One of his enhancements was malfunctioning in a way he had not foreseen before. “My room. The door you were at. We need to get there. Now!” he managed swallowing the urge to vomit.

Brendan made it to his room and began to stumble his way to his items, picking up three heavy bags filled with all his accumulated tech before throwing them at her. “Use those muscles of yours” he said slurring his words. He strapped his precious nano chips to himself. “and come with me.”
Brendan said moving to his 'exit strategy'

All planned in theory for over a year. This was his big escape plan, this was it. He was a little excited by the idea of it. The toilet of course only had one seat. But there were enough hemp straps to hold the whole toilet, walls and all. The only issue was the one seat. “You're going to have to sit on my lap-” He hesitated there. That much strength meant she was no light weight. “You know what. Never mind. You sit down on the seat. Like that great”

He sat on her lap, resting back against her as angrily as he could on purpose, he still resented being called a kid, he resented everything at that point. He took his black pad from her and started typing hurriedly. The dozens of hemp straps burst out from the sides of the toilet. Brendan started work tying them on. The cops were coming, they'd broken thorough and by the sound of stomping boots they were not going to hesitate to shoot at first sight once like they had before. Brendan started to panic on the straps. He swore every time he got a knot wrong they were right at the door when he decided, fuck it, and pressed the release button just as they entered his room.


The walls of the toilet burst outwards and they were flung forwards as the seat was launched backwards gaining massive speed in a very short space of time, far more than he'd pictured, he the loss of power to the power hungry building raised the strength of the device or had he just screwed up? Every thing disappeared, even a blur would have been nice, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, he was suffering from tunnel vision, he blacked out and returned to the land of the concious when the seat turned up.

The seat followed a magnetic rail system which lead to a building seven blocks away to a once popular children's swimming pool. The pool was covered to prevent the acid rain of hurting the kids but had a glass roof. The seat was supposed to launch them up into air, adjusting the the weight and speed in advance before dropping them into the pool after smashing them through, seat first, the glass. That had been the plan only the pool had been emptied when one of the glasses had broken and acid rain had poured into the pool, Brendan didn't know. But fortunately Brendan had not factored in the strength of the steel frames. They fell into the roof with a concrete slab of death waiting for them below when a few of the loose straps caught the steel frame and held. Leaving them hanging upside down over a wall of cement.

Brendan vomited, threw his arms in the air in celebration at his survival...then vomited again.

[Xanthuss]

Damien cursed as he flicked channels on the screen in front of him. He at last stopped at one. It was Trizonomo News At Eight AM. The familiar antique clock in the middle of the screen, with the words "Trizonomo News: Keeping you in the know!" floating below it. Then it faded to the reporter, who said: "We interrupt your normal news broadcast to bring you this special bulletin. Damien Tyrantiaz Mellbreen, owner of Tyrantiaz Technology, has been charged with High Treason! He is accused of plotting against the Government, and stealing funds from his own company. When investigated, the Government found that every cent of funds belonging to Mr. Mellbreen or Tyrantiaz Technology has vanished without a trace. The company crashed with minutes of this announcement, as Employees of Tyrantiaz Technology rioted and shareprices crashed to 0.0001 cent a share." The Reporter paused, then continued. "Mr. Mellbreen has vanished, and his home, a penthouse mansion in Cloudtop, was raided, and found to be rigged with explosives, that detonated and killed 20 police and 3 civilians."

Another pause. "A reward of seventeen million dollars has been offered for the capture of Mr. Mellbreen, and a city wide search has commenced. During a raid on a nightclub, Mr. Mellbreen was found, but his bodyguard shot and killed three police officers, before he fled the scene with his secretary, Miss. Helen Athena, his bodyguard, as yet unnamed, and Mr. Graeme Trizonomo, the same man who owns this very channel. A warrant for the arrest of all four has been given, and the homes of all of them have been searched. Mr. Graeme Trizonomo's AI is reported to have killed 2 police officers before it was disabled by a technician, and Miss. Helen Athena's home was found to be guarded by a squad of Android guards, which killed a further 5 police officers before they were removed from action." Another short pause. "Tyrantiaz Technology and all its belonging have been seized by the government, and Viper Corporations has already put in a takeover bid." The reporter said, before turning and introducing the Sports News Reporter, relieved to change topic.

Damien cursed again, switched off the TV, and turned to Gab. "What do we now?" He asked in despair, slumping himself in a chair. "Someone must have betrayed me..." He muttered, trailing off as he considered his options. It was lucky that he had already hidden every cent he owned, and sold every share he had before this happened. He felt sorry for his former employee's, but he couldn't do anything for them now. "I need to find the owner of that nightclub, now!" Damien suddenly yelled. Gab shot out of the room, heading for the car.

•

A few minutes later Gab, in the James Bond style car, shot out in to the street, and towards the nightclub. As he drove he worried about his master. He had just lost everything. His home, his company, even his freedom. He was lost in these thoughts when the car screeched to a stop behind the nightclub, in a little used alley way. Gab jumped out, and quickly ran to where he knew the "Gov's" office was, and punched the wall in. The cheap brick and plaster smashed easily, and his armour stopped him from felling the impact. He entered the room, and was walking across it when almost fell down the 'hole' in the floor, and skidded to a drastic stop. "Anyone down there?" Gab called, leaning down and turning on his night-vision, as the electric lights had gone out. "Ouch." Gab muttered as he surveyed the condition of the people below.

[skyline339]

He was good, he was damn good. Zellitha's mind was a whirl, was it the drugs or maybe she felt a small sting of attractiveness towards this kid. Whatever it was, they were free, figurativly of course, physically on the other hand, not so much. Almost instinctivly, she had grabbed onto him around the waist, old feelings, caring feelings, deep inside her sprung up as for only a moment, did she nuzzle into him as he became sick. Those feelings were short lived, as her powerful arm wrapped tighter around him. Checking out the sides, and what was holding them in, she discovered the way out. With her free hand, a few rips and bends, they were free and crashing towards the ground. Due to all the implants, her fall wasn't exactly the lightest, the moment her feet hit the ground, there was a lout thud, and a little cracking as the concrete crumble benether her becoming more gravel than a solid slab. Dropping him to the ground, she walked up to a pole, her head was really spinning, placing an arm to the pole, she began to steady herself. The spining was getting worse and worse, as she slowly slouched over.

Removing her hand from her head, she patted around. Where was it, she thought frantically, as the dizzing was getting worse. Stim was quite an amazing performance enhancing drug, but kept in the system for too long and the body will collapse from the inside out, each organ failing until the person is dead, the only way to stop is, is to take the neutralizing drug, a poweful seditive. Slowly her hand traveled down her body to the hidden pouch, on the inside of her left leg, placed carefully on her utility pants, just on the inside of her crotch. It must have been damaged, it didn't administer, she'd have to do it manually. Almost quickly her world began to fade in and out, colour, to black, black becoming more and more prominent.

It wasn't too long before, she was looking down, then her vision blackens, only to return to her now looking sideways across the ground. She knew she didn't have long, as she felt her body begin to spasm, and the coughing began. It wasn't long before blood began spitting it's way from her mouth, Zellitha had to get his attention, but her vision blacked out again. Slowly it came too, much more hazy now, but enough that she could see. Many of her implants began shutting down, and offereing what they could for life support. Instinctivly she made an attempt to catch his eye, he was in bad shape, but she needed him and now! Her vision began to fade one last time, and as it was fading, she was pointing between her legs, her last thoughts were, don't be fucking pervert, inject the anti Stim. Finally her world became quiet, and dark, the last little bit of energy was more of her subconcious taking over as she relived that fateful night of betrayal and immense pain. In a quiet and weak voice, Zellitha uttered the last words that she screamed to her ex. "Brendan, don't leave me, please don't leave me here. What have I done to deserve this, I loved you, why don't you love me baacckk......................

[GraftRaven]

As the power went out Cypher quickly estimated the chance of survival for a fall of that height, the numbers were good, but the numbers for serious injury were outrageously bad. Sure enough a few agonizing seconds later there was the sickening sound of bones shattering, eliciting an involuntary twitch from Cypher as he watched and then heard the agony of the man in front of him, at least until something was shoved into his mouth.

The obvious request for medical assistance was issued by Arno, the one who seemed to know the Don the best. Though Cypher felt no sympathy for the man. "How important is he to us? If he's not a necessity I say we kill him." The statement was made strongly, leaving not a single doubt that the seemingly half mechanical man was ready and willing to twist the Don's head off without any regrets.

He paced up and down in front of the other three, waiting for them to respond but also thinking of other solutions to the current problem. Hospitals nearby were out of the question, they would have been notified about wounded fugitives. There could be another, but she was so close to Cloud Level that it was always dangerous to see her, though she was the best that Cypher trusted...

"Anyone down there?" The call sounded from the top of the shaft, startling him back to reality and making him wonder if this was a police trick. "Identify yourself!" Cypher shouted back up, an extra filter applied to his voice to make it sound less human.

(Voice sample in this video: LINK (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T1LbubkNc88&feature=related))

[SQJ]

Brendan threw his, lunch breakfast and every snack and meal in between till his stomach had nothing to throw. He retched but nothing came, they were flying, no, flying suggested lift they were definitely falling. What ever she'd down to break them off the chair she once again had them moving in a problematic direction, this time it was towards rock hard concrete. He shut his eyes and expected the worst.

Crash!

He opened his eyes. He wasn't dead, the dizziness and most certainly every other pain imaginable was there but he was still alive, more than he could dream of hoping for. He hugged her tighter and sighed out a thank you before he was dropped. He still couldn't maintain balance, it was getting to be bullshit. He needed a fix and somehow he appeared to be the only guy with the technology to do so. Rather inconvenient. He thought to himself.

Brendan looked up, he could see her. She was walking way! She was leaving him! Brendan tried to get up and dropped to his knees pressing his skull as hard into the loosened concrete as he could. It helped, he knew it would, it was just too unfortunate that it didn't appear to help enough.

Crash!

It wasn't the crash of their landing, it wasn't the crash of the police smashing the doors open either. It appeared they'd gotten away, or at the very least they'd bought themselves ten minutes. He hoped for the former, knew it was most likely the later, the cops wouldn't give up so easy, you didn't just kill one of them and get away with it. Everyone she cared for would be harassed most certainly but, he didn’t know about that, something about the way she'd kissed the policeman, the way she'd kissed him made him wonder.

Brendan looked and and immediately found his feet. She was down, she was down! What was happening? He didn't know. He wasn't seen her get hit, had she gotten hit? He took a step towards her and stopped. Where the hell was he going?

He had his chips, pulling his most of his mainframe would be a bitch but if he moved now he'd make it before the police put one and one together and worked out the trajectory of that blast. She'd be found by the looks of it, Brendan saw blood pouring in a stream from her lips adding to the pool of blood her face was dipped in, he rushed but stopped himself after a few steps. Where the hell are you going Brendan?

His eyes watered, every thing on his body either hurt severely or shook violent under gravity's pull, now it appeared gravity was pulling his soul apart too. Brendan had been called a shit load of things. Jerk and ass-hole taking the lead. But what name would he earn if he left her? Monster? Who was the monster, him or the killer who lay at his feet?

FUCK! He started to turn away.

She looked up.

Brendan, don't leave me, please don't leave me here. What have I done to deserve this, I loved you, why don't you love me baacckk......................

She shut down. He knew the sound, he'd heard the sound of technology dying many times in his life. It was something he'd never gotten used to. He was still planted to the concrete, the strain of making a choice forced tears to run don his eyes. He ran away from her, he didn’t have much time.

Modern tech had a knack of being more human that people knew. All the means they'd resorted to keep mother nature out of technology had made quite a bit of tech more organic than ever. He wasn’t sure what was happening but if she was dead she'd stay dead in only minute's time.
Literally screaming with the effort, he pulled his mainframe towards her.

Brendan whipped out his diagnostic tools and did a check up. The whole time his teeth were gritted to keep from falling over, focussing his body's energy into the pressure his gritted teeth brought a semblance of balance and control. The dizziness would have to wait. Words flashed in front of his eyes. He started to force her electronic systems back to life, it wasn't a good plan, she was getting worse! He swore. He swore again, several images flashed past the monitor. They looked to be of some kind of weird injection tool. He looked for it on he person, trying, oddly enough despite his hormones, to be as tactful as possible. He found something, it didn’t look like the model of the tool in he image. Time was against him. It looked good enough. He injected her and once against, using his mainframe's external UPS sent an electric shock into her cores to force them to activate.

In the distance he could hear sirens. They were far off, looking but eventually one and one would be put together, they'd come. He simply sat staring at her though eyes so blurry they saw nothing and waited.

[Selothi]

"How important is he to us? If he's not a necessity I say we kill him."

That was actually a ... valid question. Dragging an agonising man's broken body through the Downtown night, with half of Cloudtop's police after them. The odds of success were low. But if there's one thing Arno had learnt in his time in crime, it was that loyalty was the undisputed show of a man's worth. Not talent, not personality: loyalty. Sure, leaving the Don to die, if not killing him outright there and then, were plausible solutions to this issue, but ... What about afterwards ? Once the dust has settled, Arno is the man who ended "the Don's" life. Eril Kalan was a renowned, powerful man, who'd built his underground network through non-violence and savvy bargaining. To end his life would also end Arno's time in this part of the city, and most likely earn him enough grudges to turn his life into a daily nightmare.

Was Arno loyal to him ? He'd been a good boss, a bit paternal, yet in a good way. Never rushed or brash. In fact, the perfect boss for a person like Arno. They were close business associates, though Arno wouldn't call him a friend, and most of all, they trusted each other. Yes, that's what mattered. Trust defeats all else.

"I'm saving this bastard even if I have to trudge through the sewers to get out of here ! Without this man, I'd be nothing, and if we let him die, word'll spread on the streets, and within a few days, we can all kiss our sorry asses ..." His rant was interrupted by a call from above, up the fateful gravitic shaft. At once, Arno's head cocked up, but even before that, the cyber-man had already let out a threatening answer, voice modulated into a robotic tone that sent slight chills down his spine. "Identify yourself!"

"My name is Gab, I'm a servant of Damien Tyrantiaz, who wishes to speak with Mr. Kalan, the owner of this nightclub."

"He's in fucking agony you idiot, can't you see ?!" Arno had already lost his temper. If they hung about any longer, their little reunion would be spoilt slightly by riot shields, tear gas and laser dots. "Listen, can you get us out of here or not ? Else we're fucked ..."

"I have a car that can seat all of you, parked behind the nightclub." Gab jumped down the shaft, no doubt fully aware of the risk. Still, the thin trickle of juice still powering the grid was enough to slow his descent, and though he landed with a mighty thud, he seemed no worse for wear. Immediately, Arno had to wonder: Even a fall of that kind would've broken your ankles. Who the hell is this guy ?

Nonetheless, they had no other option. "Okay, just help me carry him and lead us to your car; Gab, was it ?" The man nodded and hefted the wounded Don up. He had already passed out from pain, the empty tube of Mentats still clenched in his jaws, a pained expression splayed across his face. While talking, Arno had slipped the Don's gun into his coat. He didn't trust this Gab, he looked like a cop, and he'd be keeping an eye on him at all times. Still, they had no other leads, and Arno knew the area well. If he was leading them anywhere towards the front of the club, or anywhere fishy at all, then Arno would down him.

"Follow me ..." he called, and Arno looked at the other two, before following their newest arrival. Fuck me, the night's barely started ...

[Xanthuss]

Gab noted the gun but decided to ignore it for the time being. "Follow." He said tersely, before starting down the passage. It emerged out in to the very back alley he'd parked his car in a few minutes later. As soon as it identified him, the on-board computer in the car opened the doors and started its engine. "Get in!" Gab growled, carefully sitting the Don in the back. The seat moved to lie almost flat, so the Don could be lain down, and a morphed version of the seat belt strapped the man in place.

He slammed the door shut on the Don and slid in to the drivers seat. The computer shut the drivers door and then slammed the doors on the other two... Whoever they are, Gab thought. "Car, take us to the Control Center and Polaris the windows." Gab vocalised. The windows went black instantly and the car started forward. "Now, who are you two?" Gab asked, turned to look at them. "As I said, I am Gab, a servant of Damien Tyrantiaz and I was sent to pick up the Don. You two are extra's, and I want to know what I should do with you... Are you going to be useful or do I dispose of you?" He asked, staring at the two passengers.

"Transmission from Damien incoming." The computer informed Gab. The image of Damien appeared a second later. "Gab, I trust you have found the Don. If you have, then bring him to the Control Center immediately. Keep off the main roads, its dangerous out there. Police have shut down all transit along conventional travel routes and squads patrol the back roads. All people in Cloudtop are under a strict curfew and people who 'look suspicious' on the lower levels are to be shot on site."