01- The Briefing

[csr556]

"I will volunteer to check out his apartment.  Pembroke Gardens is known to me.  I can also contact my associates in the Barsoomians to check up on his 'Shango' ID."

Jeeves, make some preparations to travel to Pembroke Gardens.  Also notify me when our Barsoomian contact can meet us.  Let her know the sooner the better.  Thanks.

"So, who wants to join me?"

[Moondog]

Ace can't help but grimace as he listens to the story 'bout Reb's family. It hits a little too close to home.

The Earth in flames (and worse), people screaming. The smell of fear and despair on the cramped shuttle off the planet. The knot in his stomach as he looked through the crowd, hoping, just maybe, that he'd see his kid, hell, even the ex-wife would have been a welcome sight.

"Lock it down. That's in the past. "

He stares into the green tea, as if looking for answers in the pale liquid. To clear his mind, he clears his throat and raises a hand. "Office sounds more my style. Never cared for rooting through people's homes."

[Robot Master]

"I am more suited for access to the lab facilities." Oriole replies, taking a moment to stare quizzically at the tea cups before them. One hand unfolds itself from the other to make a dismissive gesture, declining the refreshment in Simulspace. He then raises his head to watch Ace with a look of quiet contemplation. The man's grimace does not go unnoticed. "I am already establishing angles on access. I do not suggest that we stray from acting in less than pairs, however."

Both of his eyebrows raise as he lifts his head and pans across the room once more. His eyebrows lower as his vision settles on Lien. As he does so, he prepares a datapacket including his contact information to the other Sentinels and sends it.

"Jakuta's I-rep stands, and per your warning then it would be best if we expected highly the possibility of finding Titan activity. I thank you for the warning, Lien. Let us hope that there is no such threat, or that our involvement will set TITAN activity back many steps."

[Mckma]

"Well it seems that we're basically done here?  If there are no more questions or no more information to be dispersed, I think it might be time to bid a good day.  I'm sure we all have our own business to attend to?"  Alex looks around the room, hoping he didn't sound too impatient.  Realizing how it may have come out, and gauging how others respond, he adds, "I guess I'll probably check out the apartment with whoever goes there.  That is unless you think my skills would be better put to use elsewhere, I have no real preference."

[OOC] If there is ever a period of several seconds of silence, Alex will reach forward and give a tentative sip of the tea.  This is basically only out of boredom during what others might consider an "awkward silence."  If conversation proceeds at a "normal" clip, however the tea will be ignored.

[Dom]

Lien nods, “It seems like you now have a plan for the investigation. That is good.”

She then stands up.

 “If there are no more questions, then you should begin the investigation immediately. I’m afraid that I will not be available to meet through Simulspace, so if you need to contact me you will have to message me. Have your muses send me situation reports every hour or if there is something that requires immediate attention. I wish you good luck in this undertaking.”

[csr556]

"I have nothing further.  Zeeb, correct?  If you wish to accompany me to the apartment, I would appreciate a second set of eyes.  I'm not sure how long it will take you to arrive there.  Shall we plan on 30 minutes?"

Jeeves, send our contact info to everyone.  Also update the TACNet with theirs as they send them in.

Already in pending mode awaiting your wishes.  Your Barsoomian contact has not replied yet, but it's only been a few moments.  Oh, your bike is ready to go.  I even pumped up the tires and fluffed the seat for you.

Networking:Anarchists <img src="http://slangdesign.com/forums/Themes/default/images/dice.gif" alt="" />Rolling 1d100: <div style="background-color: #919191;">(92): Total = 92 </div>

You know, Sarah probably won't call you, not after last time.........

That was a while ago, maybe she forgot.

And maybe I'll turn into a giant fluffy Teddy Bear.

[DancingWarPanda]

“I’ll go with Ace and Oriole to the lab because I can probably do more good there. We should compare each other’s skill sets to determine the best method of entry. I won’t lie, it’s been a while and I am having some issues remembering what each of you is good at. Interrogation, disguise, and CQC are my specialties. If you think of an idea please forward it to me, I have to make some calls to see about a way in.”

Khalil sends an order to his bike making sure it’s ready for the trip while quickly sending a stream of messages to his contacts. He’s going to be careful about this one because the last thing he needs is everyone knowing they are investigating Reb. The buzz of information streaming in front of him is distracting but even more so is the thought that his dreams seem to be coming true.  

Edit: Forgot my rolls.

Networking: Hypercorps (55+20 for taking extra time) [75]
Rolling 1d100:

(18): Total = 18

[Moondog]

"Good plan." Ace nods, stretching as he stands from his chair.

"Police detective, bit of forensics, bit of profiling. I can tell you how someone died, what they were offed with, how to keep a scene uncontaminated, and so forth." He lists off. There's a definite measure of pride in his voice, painting him as a man who truly enjoys what he does.

"'Course, I'd be a poor excuse for a man if I was nothing but a Cop. Disguises, impersonations, getting into places I shouldn't be, chatting people up, that sort of thing. " The good detective flashes a grin. "...And it's been said I could sell an eskimo ice cubes. Not that kids these days know what an Eskimo is anymore without consulting a wiki."

Naturally, that last bit is muttered and accompanied with a sigh.

"You heard the good lady, Joe. Update every hour, on the dot. Also, patch me through to Vinny, you remember the guy, weasel-like fellow, greasy hair, was busted for grand plagiarism. Ask 'em if he's heard anything on the streets. Oh, and ask Fatimah if she knows anything special 'bout Reb, yeah? 'Preciate it, Joe."

"Naturally, sir. Your earlier request for note-taking has been completed. Oh, and I believe you'll be pleased to hear this. I scan news feeds regularly, and it appears they've recovered a small cache of music storage devices from Earth. I believe the artist's name is Calloway. I've forwarded the data to your storage.

 Networking: Criminal (50 + 20 for taking extra time) [70] Rolling 1d100:

(37): Total = 37

Rolling 1d100:

(3): Total = 3

Networking: Ecologist (60 + 20 for taking extra time) [80]

[Robot Master]

"Very well, then. Ace and Friction are with me to check out the labs and Zeeb and Reaver are on the apartment. Since it's in the same general area we should set the rendez-vous at perhaps one of the local diners?" Oriole replies, standing slowly. "I am going to disconnect from the Simulspace construct and resume real-time communications. I am currently located in Noctis and will be enroute to the area shortly. I will re-link with you in real space."

With that, Oriole slowly disintegrates into digital dust and leaves the Simulspace construct. Immediately patching networked communications requests to their muses, he rises from the beat up couch in the hourly hotel room that he's rented. Brushing off his coat, he frowns softly at a series of loud, continuous thuds coming through the wall.

["I suppose that's our queue to leave..."]
[Yes, she is definitely getting her exercise, isn't she? I've been ready for minutes.]

Opening the door, Jaycob steps out into the dim, blue lighting of the hallway. Stepping over a small pile of garbage, he proceeds towards a thin, winding stairwell that takes him down one floor. Pressing the flat of his palm on a soundproofed door, he shoves it open and makes his way into the lobby. Reaching into his pocket, he collects the key for the door to the hotel room and tosses it to the Ruster morphed male behind the caged counter.

"Keep the change..." Jaycob mutters quietly, which is quite easy to hear in the gloom of the run down habitat.

"Yeah whatever, man. Hey Pudge!" The manager calls over his shoulder. "Get up there and make sure one-twelve's ready for the next client."

[Client...]
[Almost makes it sound professional, doesn't it?]
[Jaycob, I'd really prefer it if you found different places to make private meetings in.]
[I'll find one. I know these places upset you. I don't know of many other places that don't ask for names.]
[Perhaps a data-library? They have private booths. So do some tea houses.]
[We will try that next time, my love.]

The silence is broken by a blast of stale, habitat air and the din of the nightlife in one of Noctis' more shady districts when Jaycob exits the motel. Without looking, Jaycob turns to the right and proceeds past a pair of sylph morphed prostitues. Their suggestive catcalls and the exposure of that little bit extra of thigh are entirely ignored. His destination is the rail line less than one block away.

[Jaycob I've prepared that list of contacts for you...]

In the corner of his vision, an opaque list of names starts to scan down the edge of his vision, as another window opens, making contact with the other four Firewall agents. He begins an encryption program on the communication feed while looking for the right contact for the job.

Infosec (61) <img src="http://slangdesign.com/forums/Themes/default/images/dice.gif" alt="" />Rolling 1d100: <div style="background-color: #919191;">(54): Total = 54 </div>

Networking Scientists (40) <img src="http://slangdesign.com/forums/Themes/default/images/dice.gif" alt="" />Rolling 1d100: <div style="background-color: #919191;">(97): Total = 97 </div>

[Alright, let's see who is available...]

--edit--
(((fixed typos and some grammar. Let's hope this doesn't F up my rolls. Got a 54 for Infosec and 97 for Networking)))

[Moondog]

" 'Til then. See you on the physical." Ace nods, signing himself out of simul-space. No fancy slow dissolution here, he's simply there one moment, gone the next.

The detective blinks back to real-world awareness, taking stock of his surroundings. He hadn't expected them to change in the short time he was 'out', but a healthy dose of paranoia never hurt. The hotel room he'd taken up residence in for the time being was, depressingly, the same as he left it. Small, smelling of cigarette smoke no matter how hard the nanoscrubbers tried to clean it (funny how that worked) and with a soulless, sterile grey carpet, the place was, at best, a place to crash for a day or two. The bed was lumpy, the pillows either too firm or not quite substantial enough (what, they couldn't spring for memory foam?), and the chair+desk combo was too low, so that when you pulled the chair up to write without hunching over like a neanderthal, your knees hit the underside.

"Get what you pay for, huh Joe?" He says aloud, shaking his head. Rising from his chair, formed of some nearly indestructible material and, according to the plaque 'shaped with inspiration from Pavonis Mons', which he took to mean 'fucking pointy in places a chair had no right to be', Ace reaches into his pocket and withdraws a smoke. Nasty habit, really. But with modern technology, he could smoke for centuries and never have a problem.

Lighting up and walking out the door, key firmly in pocket, he leaves the room behind him like he'd left so many cheap hotels rooms. Intact, and without a dead hooker under the bed.

No hookers, waited outside to solicit him, no pushers with their bags of chemicals and promises of 'sweet trips' and other cheap ways to take a break from the cold reality of an uncaring universe.

There is, however, a totally sweet 'cycle parked right where it should be. The anti-theft device, a (doubtless illegal) high powered taser set to go off if the vehicle has doubtless deterred any would be theft. After going through the series of interface commands necessary to disable the security
(↑ ↑ ↓ ↓ ← → ← →) he climbs aboard and starts 'er up, the rumble of the machine underneath him comforting in its familiarity as he waits for results.

[csr556]

"See you on the other side."  With that, Reaver fades out of the meeting, and reality fades back into view.  His apartment is small, but well kept.  An economy model.  Just right for him and Jeeves.  He immediately starts gathering tools that he may need in the upcoming hours.  He mentally double checks the list, deciding on a few more things.  everything packed in his backpack, he looks at the information he has. 

Jeeves, have you mapped out a route?

Of course, would you prefer speed or scenery?

Speed, please.  Double check any photos we may have.  I want to have it on hand in case we need to start asking around.

With that, he checks his pack one last time, makes sure his pistol is loaded and concealed, checks his ego to make sure all licenses are still valid and heads out the door.