Faction DISASTER ON DENON! Shattered Homes, Lives, and Profits [Darkwire]

Darkwire Prophet · Feb 14, 2021

Two Hours Post-Quake...

"...as experts continue to evaluate the extent of the quake damage, and warn of dangerous aftershocks on the way..."

"...thousands are still trapped, and millions more are dead. The shocking statistics continue to roll in as we go now to..."

"...we're continuing to hear heartwarming stories from the ground, as reports of average citizens going out of their way..."

"...it could have been much worse than it was. From what we know now, many of the rebuilt foundations from the days of..."

"...and efforts from both Nakaioma and K Corp are beginning to have effect. Their generous donations to the relief is a..."

"...still no news on the whereabouts of the three unprecedented escapees from MirCir Prison, including the notorious..."

"...increased chatter on social media surrounding the stunning rescue of a Factory Executive, the viral holovid shows..."

Long, long millennia ago, when a cityscape first spread across Denon's entire surface, the whole planet had to be utterly tamed. Seas were paved over, their now-subterranean currents harnessed to power the buildings above. Weather systems had been captured with a vast satellite network, ensuring that the rain fell and the winds blew only where the planet's masters desired them to. Plants and animals had been exterminated, reengineered, or replaced so that everything fell into its place. Geothermal taps and solar collectors brought power from above and below, while legions of maintenance droids swarmed over the underworks, keeping every sophisticated machine functional.

But sometimes, the planet refused to accept its muzzle. Sometimes it flexed long-dormant muscles and, for a moment, broke free.

The earthquake was sudden and savage, but how hard it hit depended on where you lived... and thus on how well-off you were. Around Sakedo Tower, flexible and powerful foundations meant that the businessbeings went about their days feeling little more than a momentary tremor. Down in Suicide Slums, on the other hand, dozens of buildings fell in on themselves, and hundreds were buried in the rubble. But the greatest devastation that day came in Volgho Hollows. Laborers on their way to work in the warehouse district were stunned to see the damage: the ancient caverns below had weakened the foundations, and entire streets had utterly collapsed, shattering the district.

The Hollows were, of course, also home to those who welcomed the devastation: the prisoners incarcerated in the MirCir Detention Facility. The prison had lost power, and huge sections of wall - and of cellblock - had suddenly become piles of rubble. The result? A massive riot, with hundreds of prisoners taking their chance at freedom. Corpo guards had fought back with their trademark efficiency and brutality, and backup had arrived swiftly... but a few of the inmates had still managed to slip away in the chaos. As sirens echoed through Seven Corners and stunned, dust-covered wageslaves staggered to the emergency shelters, those inmates' faces were plastered over every screen on Denon.

Of course, with the Corpos' attention focused on the escapees, there was an opportunity for others to act while the law was distracted...

OBJECTIVE 1: Humanitarian Relief

The Hollows and Suicide Slums have been terribly damaged, and hundreds are missing.

Doc Painless is putting aside his hatred of the Corpos to assist their emergency medical services in rescuing and treating the victims. Join him, and save as many people as you can.

OBJECTIVE 2: Use the Chaos

The Corpos are deeply distracted! It's the perfect time to pull that job you've always been dreaming of. Rob a corporate vault, slice into a secure server, break a friend out of jail, assassinate one of their higher-ups. Just get it done quickly, before they get things back under control.

OBJECTIVE 3: Public Relations

Whether you work directly for the Corporate Authorities, or for one of the thousands of multi-stellar conglomerates that make their home/market on Denon, this is your time to shine! Slap your brand name on relief efforts, do some high-profile outreach for the clout, or maybe just take advantage of the extra vulnerability of the desperate masses to hawk your latest service. The savvy business being will make this quarter's profits soar.

OBJECTIVE 4: Bounty Hunt

Three dangerous inmates are still at large, and the Corpos are paying a small fortune to have them brought in. The Devaronian pirate Erryl Vhone, the Wookiee assassin Tioerwa, and the Twi'lek anarchist Hirani Surool are valued at half a million credits each, making for a great payday!

Bounty Hint 1: Erryl Vhone has made himself easy to find. He immediately linked up with his old gang of pirates and took on the Baker's Row branch of the First Bank of Denon. He and his five heavily-armed accomplices have taken multiple hostages, including the bank manager, and are forcing them to open their accounts.
Bounty Hint 2: Tioerwa, despite her massive, grey-furred frame, is a hard one to find, but there is a hint. While in prison, she swore revenge on the judge who sentenced her. That judge is a Dug named Begnen Ribona... and he now happens to be a lesser DireX Board member. Protecting him will lead you to her.
Bounty Hint 3: Hirani Surool has gone back to her old tactics of making a very public scene. She has been spotted tagging storefronts in Sakedo Tower with anti-Corpo slogans. Don't underestimate her, though; she's a master of disguise, evasion, and explosives, which she'll use if anyone gets too close.

Jerec Asyr · Feb 14, 2021

OBJECTIVE 1: Humanitarian Relief
VOLGHO HOLLOWS
SEVEN CORNERS

Now, much as Jerec Fething Asyr hated the idea of working alongside corpo disaster relief crews, this wasn't about him. He'd settled in on Denon and settled in hard, and seeing the plumes of dust puff out of Volgho Hollows made him wince. Doing something felt right, felt exciting. Also he probably wouldn't need to shoot anyone.

When the quake struck he was down at Blueshift Speeders, conveniently enough.

"...I'm not saying you shouldn't go," said Muk Moadda, scratching at the neck of his cable sweater. "I'm just saying, keep an eye out for anything shiny."

"I'm going to Volgho Hollows. The shiniest thing there is raw sewage. Toss me Luminous."

The Mon Cal black marketeer grimaced and snagged a set of speeder keys off the garage wall. Jerec caught them and tucked himself into the roll-caged seat of Luminous, a bulbous hybrid of a swoop and a podracer. Muk grumbled and started packing the custom speeder's little cargo compartment with first aid kids and ration packs that had been destined for outfitting used ships up at the main lot. Jerec cracked his neck, which is a bit of a process for an Ithorian.

"Give

Doc Painless a call, tell him I'm coming in with some basic supplies. Then go up and get the Garden off the lot." Jerec tapped the side of his long horizontal neck. "Idea."

Saro Nakaioma · Feb 14, 2021

OBJECTIVE 1: Humanitarian Relief

"Tower Control, this is DN-771 approaching disaster site 821-A, current supplies include as follows; 25 Bacta Applicators, 50 Bacta Sprays..."

Arden's team leader continued going through his list of the AV86 Condor's inventory. At the back of the shuttle, Arden himself sat, the young man being present as the team's youngest member, having only recently passed his final examination at the academy. Fifteen armed and armored paramedics sat alongside him, plenty of room between one another as most of their shuttle's available space was being used up by the relief cargo they were carrying to the scene. He found it hard to imagine the quarter of Denon he'd grown up on laying bare for him in such ruin.

It had never been the prettiest place in the galaxy, but it was still home, even if he hadn't visited it in who knows how long. Too busy caught up in pursuing his road out of poverty to focus on the romanticism that always lingered around the place of your birth, regardless of how true any of your idealized conceptions of it were or not. Shifting in his seat, the shuttle buckled under increased turbulence as it rapidly approached its intended destination, weaving through skyscrapers, some ruined, some in-tact, and a whole lot somewhere in-between those two categories. The NK18 in his lap serving as a staunch reminder that this would be no ordinary humanitarian mission, Denon was still a dangerous place.

The quake had seemingly come from nowhere, Arden couldn't recall a time previous where his community's concerns had been of a natural disaster, they had always been manmade-- until now. Being pulled away from his thoughts, the paramedic turned to find a hand on his shoulder, the arm that it belonged to stretching across from a few seats away, where he saw Kerth, the team's shock specialist-- and somewhat of a mentor. Both faces hidden by concealing armored helmet-mask composites, no words or even glances were needed to express the solidarity the two men exchanged in those few moments. After a while, you got to know when a friend was getting too wrapped up in their own thoughts..

"Prepare for landing." The shuttle's intercom announced from the pilot's cockpit, the sound of rustling metal and armor consuming the once quiet ambience of the craft's interior as the large team at once spontaneously begun to check and double check their gear. Arden and Kerth returning to their own little bubbles as they prepared for what laid ahead.

Bulky footsteps made landfall from near the front of the Condor, the team leader, marked by the various patches of red located across his armor, where the average grunt's remained solidly white, making his way towards his subordinates as they made ready. "You know the drill. Corporate wants us to make a good impression. That means no unnecessary aggression, answer questions as best you can, and be patient. Media teams from GalactiCom will be present to get some good shots for the board's next PR campaign, so you all better be on your best behavior. Understood?" Voice masked by his helmet's vocoder, if anything it had only served to make his authoritative words even more powerful than they already had been.

"Understood!" The rest of the shuttle's occupants announced in-sync.

"Happy to hear it. Now get to work!" With the team leader's announcement, the shuttle came to a steady-- but still somewhat abrupt halt-- greatly decreasing its velocity as it presumably approached the surface, several members of the team having to hold onto their handle bars to remain steady. It was time to get the job done.

OBJECTIVE 3: Public Relations

Nakaioma Denon Regional Headquarters; standing proud amidst one of the urban planet's many skylines, the two corporate skyscrapers-- had for the previous several years, stood side-by-side as the centrepiece of their parent corporation's foothold on the planet. Located in the Sakedo Ward of the Seven Corners region, its primary building, Tower Alpha was second only to the gargantuan height of Sakedo Tower itself, both structures having pleasant views of the other on a daily basis, a view that had found itself now being partially obscured by rising ash from the carnage a groundquake below had wreaked. Yet, from the interior of Nakaioma's two skyscrapers, one would never have been able to notice the devastation that had just occurred.

Offices were as quiet as they tended to be, the only difference now being the quicker pacing of the conversations that were being held between suit-donning bureaucrats by the drink vendor. On the second floor lobby of Tower Alpha, a young woman stood by one of the several elevators near the back of the impressive hall, frequent announcements being made over the indoor courtyard's speaker system, informing employees not of emergency information, and new updates, but of the corporation's usual commercial-friendly achievements, as if nothing had happened almost. Fortunately for those within, the shock absorbers beneath both structures had enabled the pair to withstand the brunt of the quake, and as it seemed now, teams were being dispatched at a rapid pace all throughout the buildings, in-order for an immediate damage assessment report to be formed.

Hikari Sato, the young woman in the black and red suit, who had been standing by the elevator knew all of this. It was her job to do so, after all. From the top of her vision, her Shisen N5 Optical Implants interfaced with her comlink to alert her of an incoming call, from her boss of all people. Answering it almost instantaneously, the older man's face appeared at the top left hand corner of her vision, the background of his office on the upper floors being very much present, and in-tact. "Hikari. Where are you?" He asked, not impatient, but expecting. "Elevators are momentarily shut down, sir. I'll be there, soon." She replied quickly, but not hastily, keeping her professional demeanour as in-tact as her superior's office appeared to be, the older man giving a simple nod before he disappeared, and the call was disconnected.

"Odawa tells me the guys over at Capital are offering loans to the victims, says the order came from Corporate." Hikari's attention was inevitably drawn to the conversation unfolding beside her, two similarly well-dressed co-workers, a young man and woman gossiping-- for lack of a better word. The woman of the pair laughed, shaking her head. "Doesn't surprise me, GC have got their crews all over the place, filming the usual acts of bravery and compassion. You just know some farrik on Coruscant is getting a raise for coming up with all this." Her male counterpart apparently agreed, taking a sip from the drink in-between his hands as he nodded. Hikari finally turning her audible gaze away from the two, and towards the rest of the lobby. Although she had personally always thought lobby was somewhat of an understatement.

The lobby was abuzz with activity, men and women in suits roaming to and from across the large hall, discussions were plentiful, and security officers stood at regular intervals, supervising it all with their investigative eyes. The sitting areas were mostly full, and others were made to stand and continue their conversations, while the scrolling marquees on every side of the lobby presented news that trading on Denon had been temporarily suspended until further notice, a financially sound decision, given the circumstances. Nearby, she saw several engineers crouched around one of the lobby's pillars, inspecting a slight crack along its rims, while above the main entrance she laid eyes on the giant digital screen that was forever present, seemingly to only ever play more of the corporation's own advertising.

"You hear about the prison break? My cousin in NSS is telling me they've got orders coming outta their ears since this fething quake hit." One of the aforementioned engineers spoke aloud to this co-workers. Hikari, unable to resist the urge, in her boredom and impatience, listened in again. "Really? You'd think the Meds would be the ones to be getting all the attention." His friend, the one with the multiscanner, replied. "No, yeah, they are as well." A third engineer, standing with his arms crossed, but overseeing the other two added in. "Then why didn't he mention it?" Multiscanner jived back. "Cause his cousin works in NSS, not Medical, void-brain." The conversation quickly escalated into an argument following that remark.

Letting out a breath through her nostrils, Hikari wondered how gossip always spread so quickly in what would seem to be a sterile, and disciplined environment. Then again, was she really surprised?

Cyran Vaas · Feb 14, 2021

Objective: 4 Bounty Hunt (Hirani Surool)

'Twi'lek huh?' Cyran thought to himself as he looked though his old datapad. As a contractor he looked though CorpSec's bounty feed. With the prison break he was expecting a few more notable targets. It's possible that he was gonna run into some opposition, and the worst of them all, Rival Bounty Hunters.

Cyran fortunately wasn't planet side when this happened. But once he knew that disaster struck he needed to be a part of it's aftermath. Even if the bad vibes weren't good for his fragile zeltron psyche. It would certainly be a bit of an uphill battle though. When he arrived he rented out his probe droids for relief effort. To help find victims and make a bit of a small profit incase the bounty hunt went south.

The Twi'lek, Hirani seemed interesting, and anarchist. Yeah just with that he could see why the "Corpos" didn't like her. But than again they didn't really like anyone that wasn't a part of their brands it seemed. Even Cyran who freelanced for them almost exclusively out here had a hard time getting them to warm up to him, even for a zeltron.

Fortunately he had a pretty good lead. Sakedo Tower. They pointed out her skills but even then Cyran disregarded it. Hopping on his crescent shaped speeder bike he headed out into the ruined neighborhood towards the luxury high rise.

Doc Painless · Feb 15, 2021

Objective: 1 (Humanitarian Relief)
Location: Seven Corners, Volgho Hollows
Tags:

Jerec Asyr ,

Saro Nakaioma

"Copy that," Doc Painless said, exhaustion in every syllable. "Please tell Mister Asyr that I'll be glad to see him, and that I'm grateful for his help." With that, he broke the comm connection and turned back to his work. The makeshift operating theatre at the edge of the disaster zone was little more than a tent filled with hastily-assembled medical equipment, and already it was overcrowded with patients. It'd been designed as a place to triage the worst cases pulled from the ruins, getting them stable so they could be transported to a hospital.

But this was Denon, and plenty of the victims couldn't afford a hospital visit... so this was their only avenue of treatment.

Before the Doc's eyes, the tent flap flew open, and another three victims were brought in on stretchers. He didn't let himself even sigh; he couldn't let on how tired he was, or how discouraged. This was the kind of situation where he was most needed, the kind of mass casualty event you'd expect in one of the warzones on the galaxy's eastern frontier, only right here at home. He couldn't stop, couldn't even slow down, or someone who didn't deserve it was going to die. Beyond that, he was the only line of defense against a lifetime of medical debt.

"How are we doing on those pressor fields?" His surgical aides, mostly other street docs he'd rounded up at the last minute, responded in the affirmative, and the Doc smiled. He was grateful that, if something like this had to happen, it'd happened after that business back on Wann Tsir. His clinic had been full to bursting with supplies bought on the Corpos' tab, the kind of supplies that would normally have taken him years to work his way through. Now he might go through them in days instead, but they would save countless lives in that time.

"Keep pressure on that leg, and get me three CCs of vutalamine; we've got to cut off those muscle spasms before she hurts herself any further." Turning from his first patient, an older Bith woman, the Doc surveyed the other twelve current occupants of the tent, particularly the three that had just come in. The injuries were mostly broken bones and skin lacerations, the victims pulled from collapsed buildings. They'd been lucky enough to survive, though keeping all of their limbs would depend on swift and decisive treatment in the next hour.

Some were just in shock. They were cycled out of the tent, given warm blankets and cots set up in a nearby speeder lot.

No small number of patients weren't firsthand victims but first responders, injured in the process of trying to rescue those trapped in the many building collapses. They faced many hazards - live wires, gas leaks, and unstable duracrete were only a few of the most prominent. The initial death toll had been staggering, too staggering to think about without breaking down; the Doc knew he would drink later, drink until he couldn't process it all and the world seemed manageable again. But for now, he focused on keeping that toll from getting higher.

"There's a shuttle touching down, Doc! Looks like Nakaioma!" The Doc nodded, internally suppressing another sigh. This might be good news; Corpos were way better supplied than he was even after his supply purchasing frenzy. But it might also make it difficult for him to keep providing free care, depending on how they decided to operate once they hit the disaster zone. Doc Painless had seen enough of corporate operations to know that profit was their only god, and they did nothing that did not serve that cold master in some way.

Steeling himself, the Doc walked out to greet whoever got out of the Nakaioma shuttle.

Gray Venasir · Feb 15, 2021

Objective 2
Target: Assassinate Hasar Tokane, unofficial slaver and employee of Luminous Sun

"Holy chit, this is bad," said Gray out loud, while watching the news. When the quake hit, he had luckily been on one of the safer parts of Denon, so he hadn't felt much of it. At the time, he had just thought it was a terrorist attack that had blown up an underground vault, or something like that. But then the news started showing up everywhere.

But the news hadn't been all about only the quake, focusing equally on the prisoners running around freely. Honestly, that part didn't concern Gray all that much. Some of the criminals had been allies, or wrongly accused. Though others were worse: rapists, extremists, psychopaths.

"Wait, is that..." Gray moved closer to the TV in the café he was in. One man on the screen had caught his attention. The human Hasar Tokane. Among the common people on Denon, he was a known slaver. Though officially, he was a "rehabilitator of the homeless", working directly under Luminous Sun. He kidnapped homeless people, or even some who lived alone, and used them as slave workers for Sun's luxurious parties, or other types of pleasure slaves. And he was among the top people on Gray's killing list. But he was laways surrounded by security, so there was never a good chance. That is, until now.

Hasar was now walking almost alone among the rubble of destroyed parts of Denon. No doubt looking for healthy and beautiful people he could take, but masking it as being Sun's deligate to help those in need.

Gray realized he would never get as good a chance as this. He paid his tab on the café, and left. It would probably not going to be easy, but he had to do this

Saija Kwann · Feb 15, 2021

Objective 2: Use the Chaos
Location: My personal safe house, far from the epicenter of the quake

I got back early in the morning from planet-skipping with

Kronn K'taris and I decided to stay inside today. After that nasty business on Smarteel, I was ready to take a long shower. A REAL shower, with water, not one of those sonic showers that give me tinnitus for five minutes after I'm done. I need to wash off all this dirt and sand, that planet was a real dust bowl. Plus I smelled like Orbak poo-doo and stale grog made by the locals.

After putting on a fresh set of clothes and cracking open a cold cylinder of Red Bantha vitamin-mineral fusion drink (it's a guilty pleasure, I know, but it tastes sooooo good!) my entire apartment shakes right when I'm breaking the seal. I stumble trying to keep balance. This goes on for several moments, like some kind of earthquake. While I manage to remain standing, my drink isn't so lucky as it slips out of my hand and crashes to the floor.

"Fleekin Fark!" My voice was a mix of anger at losing my refreshment and shock at the sudden tremor. My heart was racing now as I can feel an aftershock coming on. It wasn't as strong as the first, but I dive for cover under my corner desk anyway. When it's over, I'm on my feet and into my chair. The entire planetary web as well as the underground channels were going crazy. There was a major seismic event in the Seven Corners District...and to think I almost went there. I'd be dead right now.

My comlink becomes active; Darkwire is on the move; some people are pitching in to help the injured, others are busy securing our own resources that weren't hit. Still others saw this as an opportunity to get back at the Corpos, and I get a proposition to crew up for an improptu heist. It was the perfect time since law enforcement and emergency services would be completely tied up with the emergency. Sections of their power grid, comm-nets, and bandwidth relays were crippled, leaving both the physical and cyber-world vulnerable to attack.

The score is a cyber heist in the Sakedo Tower district; I'm running comms and slicing for an infiltration team hitting one of the smaller firms which was known for sketchy market behavior and pushing the bounds of both the law and business ethics. Most of those corpos don't give a fark about either one, playing the system off against itself, two ends against the middle. And they usually come out on top while middle class folks, who had placed their faith and credits in these financial overlords, got the raw end of the deal and took the brunt of the losses. Even now, *ambo-runners were quick to prey on victims, and we were going to do something about that as well.

*ambo-runners = ambulance chasers - made up SW slang by me

Cato Fett · Feb 15, 2021

OBJECTIVE 0: Reach Fresh Air
Somewhere Below ‘Misery-Upon-A-Dream’
SEVEN CORNERS

~Previously~

Cato’s hands were scuffed raw, his helmet semi-ruined and put through ad-hoc repairs, his lamellar armour pitted and compromised, and the under-robes, the Asahi kimono and hakama torn, scorched, holed, and threadbare. He climbed what had been a maintenance turbolift delivery shaft. Grimy wall-prints screwed into the ferrocrete mapped it as a straight rise to the upper sub-structure levels from the deeper underworld. From there, Cato reasoned, it’d be a relatively easy hike up to proper ground level and retreat to Quekko’s. He was exhausted, hungry, and wanting for bacta, though the prior agony in his leg had been quelled now to just a distant, occasional ache. The better part of a day had been spent in deep meditation, drawing on his hara, on the Force, intricately piecing the shards of bone, sinew, muscle, and nerves back into place. The talent had been one of many lessons gleaned from inside the dread Pomojema. It served functionally, practically. He pushed his fingertips into a slight depression in the shaft walling, pulled, stuck in his boot toes, reached and tested and found the next steady hold. Breathed steadily, exhaled evenly, tasted stale recycled air thickened with concre-dust. Mind of No Mind. His attentions were bare save for the climb.

An hour or two prior, the world had seemed to wake. Deep throaty tremors stirred the cyclopean subworld, shaking loose miles worth of dank ceiling, rending open tears that ran through innumerable, unlit levels down to the foetid rock-base. Derelict piping ruptured beside neglected, torn cable-bundles, igniting sudden and urgent infernos. The effect was sympathized and echoed, explosions detonating in broken spates, the sound of old metals and synth-fabricate materials screaming as tectonic forces tore them apart at the molecular level. The jaunt to surface turned fast into a running, evolving gauntlet, Cato sprinting across crumbling floors, manoeuvring tumbling passageways that tipped and yawed as unseen supports gave out. After an eternity, things seemed to still. He discovered the lift, depowered, wrenching aside bent panelling to ascend up through the weakened hoistway. Above where a long scrap of durasteel stanchion poked through the hoistways roof, light weakly poured in.

-

~Later~

The wind was bathed in heat and cold and brought draughts of ash and the brickish taste of brimstone. Cato had emerged onto a ruined public veranda overlooking the north stretches of the long urban arcologies and barely upright, listing habitation-blocks. Debris, the fall and detonation of several high-rises, choked the sunlight besides a sudden, pallid overcast. At a guess, communication between ground and orbital weather satellites were interrupted. To the west, a wall of black rainfall that remained anchored beyond Seven Corners. Metallic static burned striations and webs of red lightning under the bellies of clouds. While below, unchecked infernos raged up the sides of crumbling hab-spires, in the wide speeder canyons and multitudes of side avenues and backstreets, cooking the inner sub-levels. The threnody bleating on the wind, to Cato’s horror, was the sound of a million civilians screaming in unison.

Down the veranda lied a crashed CorpSec cruiser. Both pilot and his partner seat still belted and skewered to their seats, quilled with a dozen rebar lances. Construction materials, he guessed, loosed during the initial quake tremors and dropped into the cruisers wind-screen. After an effort extricating both the rebar and dead, he tentatively tried the repulsor-engine for power and was rewarded with a shrill whine. The comms unit plugged centre in the control console lit bright and began wailing reports. Conflagrations racing unchecked in the Lum Rouge, swathes of multi-level business and living blocks gone or at severe risk of collapse. Dead left in the streets. Riots progressing in the Suicide Slums. The MirCir cracked open, hemorrhaging convicts. Everywhere, everyone: overwhelmed.

“To any available units,” CorpSec Control blared on. “Possible 211 at the First Bank, possible hostage situation. Suspect is identified as Erryl Vhone. Any available units, link up with ERT and converge. Exercise extreme caution.”

“…A start,” Cato murmured. He eased into the pilot seat and pulled in the gull-wing door, grasping the flight sticks. The cruiser bumpily eased out of its furrow and turned, speeding up into a high lane and angling toward a patch near the Lum Rouge. A quick pause at Quekko’s CSE.

OBJECTIVE 4/1: En route.

Jocelyn Pavaliah · Feb 15, 2021

Objective 1 Humanitarian Aid
Tags

Doc Painless

Saro Nakaioma

A trio of what looked like scout mining barges came into view over the district. One painted with a hastily scrawled insignia in galactic basic. At a glance it looked like Groundhog Boys, but the letters were painted through. Upon further inspection when the trio came to a slow hover over a collapsed building, Grandma's Boys could clearly be seen painted over as three pairs of bodies could be seen jumping out in mining suits and powered exoskeletons.

A comm transmission went out, a woman's voice that

Doc Painless would perhaps recognize from the Blue Flame Tavern where he received a round of kicks for free.

"Help coming in. Combing the buildings for bodies and live ones. Clear the way for incoming craft." Jocelyn called as the forms on the ground produced scanners and began looking for life signs.

They traveled as a pack, some with what looked like power generators and others with long cylindrical tunes that could extend.

"Skinner, Micky, Deez, get to work. This ain't cigarra time. Keep an eye out for lines and if you smell a leak, don't light up." Jocelyn called over the line to the groups below. Grunts were all she got back as the small scout craft shifted round the first building.

"Rum, spike that north corner and square it up. It looks ready to shudder." Jo called over to one vessel that drifted forward and settled before rotating and shooting a javelin into the corner of the building.

A sharp metallic snap emitted from inside as prongs extended into the building as the vessel lifted slowly before the line made a sing-song twang sound as the whole building went rigid.

"Biscuit, get on the west side and see if-"

"Door found, lowering the sling, Jo." A voice called back before she could finish.

"Jimmy, let them know. I'm scanning the surroundings to find the next liable one." She got a nod from the seat ahead of her as she set the display in front of her to look for lifespans. It was a makeshift setup they had on board, barely passable to even civilian standards as she cleared the remains slowly beside the first building.

Exoskeletons moved slowly as they silently worked, nods and hand-signs were quickly passed around, a pair sliding another suited member inside a busted window and handing in poles before hooking up lines.

A tap on the foot told the guy inside they were ready. A few seconds passed with light cursing before the foot pedaled a few times and hands pulled the person out. Lines pulsed to life as the opening grew, duracrete complaining as an opening wide enough for the suits to crawl in opened.

A hurried huddle formed single file as one remained at the door way as the makeshift sling came into view.

The sound of creaks and groans were rampant inside as the forward man lit up a headlamp and moved his scanner back and forth. The ruined hallway before them gave little clearance as reinforcing rods protruded from the wall.

A hand wave had a suit moving forward, a torch produced before sparking and making short work of the bars before they moved forward and turned on more headlamps.

"Anyone inside? Make yourself known if you can!" one called out ahead, moving their scanner back and forth.

Daiya · Feb 15, 2021

OBJECTIVE 4 (Hirani Surool ally)
Location: The 301, Sakedo Tower
Tags:

Cyran Vaas

[Post Soundtrack: "Too Loud" by Icon for Hire]

She still felt unsteady, walking on stable, level ground again. The floors of Sakedo Tower had fared well in the quake, far too well really. The impossibly tall beacon of corporate profits towered over the entire district was not just a symbol of awe, but ire for her as well. Luminous Sun loomed over her life in far too many aspects for Daiya's comfort, and the DireX' durasteel obelisk surviving the quake without a scratch had ruffled her shadowrunner feathers just a little too much.

The job's details had been thin, and the message rather cryptic. Another day, Daiya would have discarded it out of a sense of caution. Her gut was telling her not to, that there would be another job on another day. Today, though, she could find herself accosted by someone desperate. Today, though, she might find her still-standing apartment building broken into by someone newly homeless. Today, though, she felt well practiced for the skills the job demanded.

Today, there were no pragmatists, only opportunists.

On most days, the girl actually liked the mall. She had built memories here, and saved countless credits, and a more sentimental person might have felt endeared toward a sense of gratitude for the 301. But the broken streets she had walked over, the crumbled homes she had passed, the smoky fires she had avoided, she saw none of it inside Sakedo Tower. The beings here, few as they were, moved as though it was any other day. They didn't have to see the devastation, they didn't have to witness the carnage. They could simply finish their shopping, jump into their high-priced speeders, and whisk back home to wherever else on Denon they came from.

It felt like an unusual streak of cruelty for her, but Daiya felt compelled to even the odds. This job was perfect for that, even if it had some odd requirements. The teen felt sluggish in the hoodie and sweatpants, and they made her look like a saggy lump of fabric in the storefront windows she passed. Yet with her curly, long hair hidden back underneath the raised hood, and unusual style of attire for her, the girl looked unrecognizable even to herself. She supposed that was the point, and as she started to see others on the mall floor dressed in similar outfits, it began to make more and more sense.

Still, as she started to spot shadowrunners or other opportunists with shopping bags, or even crates, full of paint cans and equipment, the girl felt as if she had missed something crucial.

"Can I join you?" Daiya asked one of them, sidling up to another hoodie-cloaked tagger who had set down a whole crate. She crouched down, picking up cans to inspect them. "Whoa, how many colors did you bring?!"

"Just enough for me, kid. Didn't you read the job deets?"

The teen walked away, tossing a kick at the crate as she left. She missed. Her mouth mimicked the gruff retort of the runner to herself. "'Just enough for me.'" She groused to herself. "Yeah, you and the five others you can fit under that hoodie."

She tried again with another taker for the day's job, taking a different tack. "So you got the message, too?" Daiya remarked as she gave the runner's work an appraising eye. She moved to where the graffiti trailed off, pointing out, "I can start in this section over here."

"Find your own section, girl. We're supposed to work alone and si-lent-ly!"

She glared at him, too, and flung back a Parthian shot before walking away. "Yeah? Well, you spelled 'eat' wrong anyway, unless you wanna 'eel the Corpos'. And they're already slimy enough!"

Already angry and bitter by the meager help Seven Corners was getting from the Corpos, the caustic attitudes of her fellow shadowrunners wasn't helping. Today of all days, she had figured, Darkwire would be working together but it was just like a groundquake to shake loose all the selfish ugliness that even shadowrunners hid behind a punky mask. She had not expected to stay quiet all day long, not when she was a bundle of emotions searching for an outlet. She wasn't even sure now if artwork was going to soothe that, even as simple as it needed to be.

She missed having a dedicated partner to share her thoughts with every day.

Finding an unclaimed section of the mall for her own, Daiya got to work. She found a random storefront to pull up in front of, and pulled out a can of spray paint she brought along for the occasion. Her typical satchel was nowhere to be found, though now the girl wondered if she could have used it. The front pocket of the hoodie was gigantic, but only enough to carry a few cans inside. She thought today she would not need a glittering array of colors. While the young shadowrunner longed to be another overachiever like the rest of her peers today, the job had only requested two: black and red.

Idly, she wondered if CorpSec would take a moment to appreciate the color-coded allusion to their uniforms before they got mad.

Nah, feth 'em, they could get mad at a porg for crossing the road.

Then the girl gave the can a shake before turning its spray on the store's facade to plaster it with the combative, incendiary messages against the Corpos.

Saija Kwann · Feb 16, 2021

After setting up buffers to mask my source location and firewalls against possible countermeasures, I work on the fly in tandem with other slicers operating with me online. A couple of our operatives on the ground infiltrated the Creditwurx complex dressed as CorpSec officers and made sure to clear out any "non-essential" personnel, aka pretty much everybody, but most importantly their cyber-security scabs. Without live users to monitor the systems, only droids and computers stood between us and their central data core.

I'm up now, playing gatecrasher. There is triple-layered logarithmic encoding in place...too secure to use a standard crack-script, I'm going for something I've saved for a special occasion. A pass-descrambler that's as fast as the slicer I got it from. Meanwhile, I listen to chatter from the rest of the team...once they cleared out all meatbags, they R-bolted any droids before they knew the office was being hit.

"Almost there..." Seconds later, the login and password fields filled themselves in and automatically enabled.

"I'm inside. The store's open for business."

Now that the slicer team had free and clear access to the core, we started wreaking our special brand of unique havoc. Stealing ledgers and internal company memos. Shifting capital away from the suits and spreading some electronic wealth in better places. Sure, each of us were walking off with a bunch of loot, but we made sure to tip the scales in favor of the people who got robbed by these white collar scum. One of the guys also managed to eliminate arbitration clauses and corporate safeguards from electronic contracts, which would make life hell for them in the court system. A share of Creditwurx stock wasn't going to be worth an Orbak patty by the time we're finished.

Cyran Vaas · Feb 16, 2021

Objective: 4 Bounty Hunt (Hirani Surool)
Tags:

Daiya

The howling of his speeder bike echoed though the wrecked neighborhood. Bouncing off buildings and rubble alike. Cyran felt like he never really enjoyed the planet as a whole. Never really spending time here for fun, always work, and typically violent work at that. He was beginning to feel like Denon's negative vibes weren't all that great for him. But credits were credits and he always felt like he was in short supply of those no mater how greedy he got.

As he approached Sakedo Tower from his speeder bike he saw just how big it really was. He sort of figured it would be some thin dinky land mark. But it was a respectable bit of architecture. As he got closer he was glad that the destruction lessened by the yard he felt. He even felt like the ring of similar skyscrapers were nothing to scoff at. Riding up on the building he parked it outside. It didn't seem too busy, but how could it when disaster stuck so close to it.

Hopping off his bike and making sure it was parked well so that nobody would run off with it too easily. Under his beskar crushgaunts Cryan cracked his knuckels and limbered up some before heading into the building. Sliding automated doors opening to let him in. Pretty easily he navigated his way to the 301. Figuring it was a good place to start checking out where this Twi'Lek Anarchist was. After all info determined that she was tagging store fronts around here. So it was a good place to start.

Pretty quickly while he was around the 301 he started spotting a lot of tagging around the place. Quite a few store fronts being vandalized. He felt like the point they were trying to get across was lost on him. He didn't see why it was necessary. After reading #EatTheCorpos for the 10th time he shrugged. Perhaps that could be neat, but the "corpos" were the ones giving Cyran his paycheck so maybe they could be eaten after he gets paid at least.

It was as he was thinking that, that he saw a figure. A Twi'Lek? The Twi'Lek. They seemed like one, and they were tagging a store front. Tilting his head some he really began to underestimate this bounty's severity. They just seemed like some vandal. But that didn't really matter, and he shouldn't think to hard on it. Rule #2 People don't have bounties, only acquisitions have bounties. Approaching he called out to them. "Hey, I think arts and crafts time is over sweetheart. Time to take you back in the big house..."

Th'edar Kolbert · Feb 16, 2021

Objestive 3: Public Relations

Location: K Corp Denon Headquarters

"In a seemingly unforseeable groundquake across Denon are reported several streets entirely collapsed mostly in Volgho Hollows. Our experts with knowledge of the destruction have stated that the death toll is unfortunately expected to be very high. Meanwhile first responders continue to sort through the rubble and fight fires with the hope of finding survivors. CAD leaders are yet to meaningfully adress the public. We advise our viewers to follow the orders of the authorities and stay in a safe place. K Corporation continues its efforts to help the people affected by groundquake. Stay with us for new information about these tragic events every minute."

A pleasent but cold and professional female voice said on K Media Group's holochannel, they usually broadcast economic, corporate and general news, and this was breaking news. K Media Group was trained to respond very fast to big events and create good coverage about these events well before the higher-ups had to give special orders.

People living in ecumenopolises often forgot they were on a living-breathing planet, especially on dormant ones like Coruscant, for them the planet was just some cold rock underneath the infinite levels of the city. This day was a reminder to that. Well, not in the K Corp Tower, they barely noticed the quake, everyone just stopped for a minute then they continued on with their work, for a short time atleast. Jabh, a high-ranking human officer, was standing near the window, drinking an expensive orange colored drink and looking at the city, he was wearing a perfect blue suite, he hated that suite. The clothes was art, but everytime he wore them something very bad happened, last time he put on the royal blue suite, a financial and economic crises almost broke out. He just wanted to look majestic and bam. The suite was pure bad luck. He rememberd back the emergency meeting he had not long after the quake.

"Okay Sakk so what do you have for us?" - Jabh started.
"The data should be on our screen in a minute. This is the first draft." - Sakk answered.
"Wait. Are these numbers and this report correct?"
"Yes. It is accurate."
"Feth me. Feth. Me. Sakk... how long would it take for K Mining to rebuild the damages?"
"What? All of it?"
"Yes."
"I don't know. Months."
"Months?"
"Yeah, months. But you certainly know our object on Denon is to expand in the tech and financial sectors, not to rebuild half of the streets. It won't work without help from other planetary branches. If we suddenly start construction with our current assets, we will miss the opportunity."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
"Yes, I am. How muchmoney can we throw at this?"
"I don't know, sixty? Sixty."
"Jabh, if I may, we suffered low damages..."
Jabh just calmly but swiftly stood up and left the office. Quiet and polite but tense talk started between the managers. K Corp had plans for situations like this, what to do, they just had to follow it, but since Denon was important for K Corp, some wanted to put in extra effort. Jabh returned and the chit-chat stopped.
"Everyone could you please give us with Sakk a few moments? We will meet back here."
People orderly left the room and Jabh and Sakk stayed in silence.
"What are you going to do? Are you going to call Zakuul?"
"I already have."
Sakk sighed in relief.

K Corp really opened the credit taps, here on this one, Denon was an important planet for the conglomerate, mainly because of the corporate freedom, and opportunities it provided. The megacorp started with a generous donation to the relief efforts, then K Media Group hit the ground and started broadcasting the news about the aftermaths of the groundquake and ofcourse what K Corp is doing to help. Bank of K will provide cheap loans to the people in need, and even cheaper ones if they are willing to use K Credit, their own currency. The bankrupt will get a chance to refinance their loans. K Mining is gearing up to bring ores to Denon for the rebuilding. Corporate Military Forces can help keep order on the streets, if the authorities ask for their help. And they have more plans, maybe a high-ranking K Corp leader will show up too.
Trading has stopped so the trading floors were calm and mostly empty in the K Corp Tower, but every other department was buzzing and working hard to get things done before the competition. Now mostly to get money to the people in need.

Muk Moadda · Feb 16, 2021

As

Doc Painless went out to greet the

NAKAIOMA shuttle, a shadow fell across the whole disaster zone.

A quarter century ago, the Sith Lord Rasho the Hutt had called the Garden of Unending Delights his home. Five years ago, it had wound up in the possession of Quekko's Choice Ship Emporium, where it had adamantly failed to find its forever home. Two hundred fifty meters of carefully-sterilized Ootmian-class Star Frigate loomed over the crisis. Its landing gear crunched into uninhabited surfaces of reasonable structural integrity. The ship and the rubble both groaned.

"Folks," said a loudspeaker, "my name is Muk Moadda. I'm here on behalf of Jerec Asyr from Quekko's Choice Ship Emporium down in Lum Rouge. Now, we have tried and tried to sell this old boat, and frankly it takes up more space than it's worth. But it's clean, it's got 'freshers and nutrient dispensers and strong life support, and it's got space for hundreds of folks."

The ship groaned again.

"As you can tell, this is no slaver stunt - I'm not sure this boat will ever make orbit again, let alone hyperspace. You want shelter, hop on in. We can fit a neighborhood or two in here."

Landon · Feb 17, 2021

Objective: A: Rob a bank and B: Maybe be arsed to help some innocents in the process of

Reave

The purr and rumble of the swoop bike rattled beneath him. His little bunk in his safe house in the corner of nowhere hadn't taken much of a hit from the quake. But those reports? No time like the present to strike. And if things went well and paid off? He'd finally be able to get a little better food than slicing those vending machines for the nuna-chips, sizzle-corn, and jawa gummies. Tel wouldn't have to keep giving him a meal or two on the house.

Landon was going to meet another in the Darkwire group. A contact he'd run into on the darknet. And perhaps an old contact

Daiya would join them? Who knew? Sometimes she acted like a real princess.

They were going to meet a block from the bank they intended to hit and this disaster was gonna provide the perfect cover.

Hopefully.

Landon voice texted a quick message to Mynock and perhaps Daiya's comms. Encrypted of course.

'Five mins out.'

Anakin Stormrunner · Feb 17, 2021

Objective: Humanitarian relief
Location: unknown, the Hollow (later)

The planet was in ruin. Miles below it’s glittering surface of penthouse rooftops and coveted green gardens lay destruction. Entire blocks have collapsed into rubble and the air is wrought with the familiar noise of travesty. Children were crying, bawling from a grief their little minds were incapable of understanding. Families sat in shock over the state of their home, the loss of their loved ones. The sobs of adults could be heard, wailing screams of grief as they fought to claw away the debris. Desperate to reach loved ones trapped inside.

Anakin soared above the scene, water blue wings coated in powdered plaster and rock. Beneath him, the twisted pile of what was once a residential building lies in ruin. A child cries, her faint voice echoing in the ruins bellow. Spice blue eyes snap downwards, fixating on a small opening in the top of the building. The kid is close, whispers his desert, though tired and close to exhaustion.

He dives without hesitation, grey coated wings tucking in close as he plummets towards the surface, towards the hole he knows the child can be reached through. Air rushes past him with a whoosh as he enters the hole, and only his quick reaction keeps him from hitting the sharp ground with a squelch. The child lets out a shriek upon his arrival, which is quick to devolve into fearful tears. He peels his goggles off, pulling the thick double layered bandana from his mouth to help placate the child.

Many gentle words later, Anakin is lifting away the metal bar that kept her arm pinned. With a grunt, he hefts the child onto his back, balanced precariously between his wings, and takes off towards the hole.

Half flying, half climbing, Anakin makes his way out of the narrow gap and into the smoggy Denon air. One, two, three times he flaps his wings. Strong powerful strokes that propel him into the sky and allow him to glide back to the crying mother. As the two conjoin in a tearful hug, Anakin directs them to a medical center, escorting them to its perimeter before leaving.

___________________

"How bad is it?" He stands before a togruta. Her purple montrals unrecognizable beneath the layers of dust and grime. "Not good." She begins. "Entire sections of the city have been demolished. Suicide slums is in ruins and the Hollows is even worse. It's a slaughterhouse over there." He eyes skitter across the little pocket of destruction that they sit in. "Roti wants you to head over there. With your luck you'll be a bigger help there than here." He nodded. "Tell Roti I'm on my way."

"Tell him yourself. He should be there right now." Blue eyes widen behind their goggles, the only visible sign of shock. "I will." He cuts out, before taking off into the sky and angling for the Hollows.

___________________

Wind whistled through his feathers as Anakin flew. Muscle memory and instinct guided his movements even as his mind was miles away. Much like Darkwire, the trail never chose an official leader, but if one had to pick who best fit the role, the Candovantan would be close the to top. Anakin had kickstarted the organization, but from the beginning Roti had poured his heart and soul into it. If he was here, then it really was serious.

A speeder cut out in front of him, forcing Anakin to tuck his wings and roll beneath it's metal stomach. It wasn't long before his mind went back to drifting.

It wasn't that Roti did little on the ground, quite the opposite actually. No, he worked the streets just like everyone else. It was only the big projects that he delegated from the back, where his expertise would be in higher need. To have him on the front lines of something as big as this meant that the trail as a whole was stretched thin. Likely he'd be directing orders into a ear piece comm line as he dug survivors out of the rubble.

The air was beginning to grow thick with dust, and Anakin could make out the sounds of shouting and wailing of sirens. He pulled the bandana back over his mouth, the flight having left thick lines where some of the dust had been knocked off. Wheeling overhead, Anakin searched for Roti in the crowd bellow. As expected, he was running between rubble, searching for survivors and handing out bottles of clean water to those already safe. He tucked in his wings, diving towards the surface at breakneck speed. He landed lightly, claws scraping the ground as he held out his wings to slow the fall.

Roti was already headed in his direction by the time he landed. He had made no effort to silence his wing beats. and his old friend knew him well enough to recognize even beneath all the dirt and grime. "Anakin!" He called, purple brown face already breaking into a smile. "It's good to see you friend." He continued upon reaching him. "It's good to see you too." Continued Anakin, speaking in basic for all the listening ears around. "Though I wish it was under better conditions." The smile he received for this comment was small and tainted with grief. "We could use your brand of luck right about now." Roti said instead. It was an obvious change of subject, but the moment allowed for little pleasantries. "Yes. Yes, you're right." His tail splayed out. Feathers unfurling like a fan. Open, closed- open, closed, he repeated it again and again. "How can I help?" He closed his tail with conscious effort, holding them in place as Roti spoke. "We've got people trapped in the rubble and others in need of medical aid. A couple people- some guy called Doc Painless and that new Nakioma business are leading the charge." A look was all Anakin needed to spur more information out of the man. "You can find the Doc out at the edge of the disaster zone. He's got an emergency center and it's filling up fast. As for Nakioma, I'd avoid them if I were you. They're only here for the PR rep." Anakin nodded. "And what of us?" "I've got people handing out supplies to those refugees who are healthy. Mostly clean water. I'm sure you know how much dust can suck up any water you have once its gotten in your throat. Also dry foods - the cheep chemical stuff that's meant to be edible by as many species as possible - and blankets for once it starts getting colder." Roti motioned to the own pack of waters in his arms. "Good. I'll go talk to Doc, see how I can help. Do you have an extra ear comm? I lost mine a little while back." He had never been a doctor, and in all honesty preferred the adrenaline rush of sneaking slaves out as opposed to Singing. But like many Tatooine slaves, he knew how to treat serious injuries with insufficient supplies and he would help where he was needed. "Are you sure? We both know you'd be better suited for finding people in the rubble." The question, along with the ear piece that he was handed, was no surprise. It was true after all.

"I mean yeah, but getting them out wont do much good if they can't survive their wounds."
"Then you shoud know that I talked to the others, and they agreed to let you offer our aid to Doc." Blue eyes widened behind their goggles. It seemed today was full of surprises. "If you say so."

Anakin took off at a jog, slipping the comm in his ear as he went. As he walked he sent out a request through the comms, asking for any medics not already there to meet up with him by the Doc's tent. It wasn't long before he arrived at the medical tent. It was crowded with survivors, and the cries of the injured drowned out the sounds of the disaster itself. By then, he was in the company of a togorian, his furred skin scarred ad what was very obviously a slave brand burnt onto his left temple. To his left was a twi'lek. Equally marked, though only the brand was sever enough to show clearly through the grime. He was in luck, Doc pushed his way through the tent just as Anakin arrived. Obviously he was waiting for a Nakaiome representative, but none had yet to appear.

"Doc! Hey Doc!" Anakin waved as he approached, but waited until he got closer to say anything else. "Listen, I'm Anakin. Considering how crowded this place it I thought you might like a little help. These two know there way around a scalpel and I've got more people enroot that can help. You mind putting 'em up here?" It wasn't an obvious introduction of the trail, especially not to an outsider. But this would be the first time they obviously acted with outsiders. And it would become obvious before long. Many of them were better in Amattaka than basic when it came to medical terminology. The language and the fact that many of them had obvious marks of slavery made it easy to put two and two together if someone tried hard enough. It was a risk, albeit a small one.

Doc Painless

Cartri Keswoll · Feb 17, 2021

OBJECTIVE 4: First Denon bank heist
Location: Bakers Row, First Denon Bank
Tags:

Cato Fett

Denon was one of those places where a calm day could turn into a battleground within an instant, and today was no exception. Cartri was walking through the streets of bakers row like any other day, almost without a care in the world as he singled out wealthy-looking individuals and swiped their credits while he swiftly walked past them. One solitary figure, who appeared to have the swagger of a merchant came towards him swiftly, clearly in a hurry to get back to his ship with a hefty payday. The teen smirked slightly and purposely walked straight at him with speed, bumping straight into his chest with force while one hand slipped into his pocket to swipe the credits he collected "Hey! watch where you're going kid!" he growled with a small shake of his head, continuing to power walk back to the shuttle with no indication of what happened. Cartri slowly back away from him and placed the credits in his own pockets, a small chuckle coming from his lips as he got closer to the First Denon Bank.

Everything seemed fine for a few seconds as he walked down the street until everything around him began to violently shake. All at once, people began screaming and scrambling around the area, some even falling roughly to the concrete floor from their lack of balance. Even the buildings were struggling as they began to crack and sway under the pressure, where eventually the inevitable happened. Large chunks of metal and concrete fell from the sky upon the civilians below, forcing most of them to jump to whatever cover they could find in the hopes of not dying from raining stone. Cartri hurried to the doorway of the bank and watched as many hurried past him into the bank itself, causing some to be left in the street helpless from what was going on. Behind the rushing crowd was a crying kid in the street, clearly in a state of shock from not knowing where his parents were. The teen sighed slightly and roughly pushed through the stampede of people to see a block of concrete falling in his direction, forcing Cartri to act quickly in the hopes of saving his life. He ran forward and raised his hands to the small boy, suddenly throwing him forwards into his arms as the concrete exploded into the floor. Cartri held him in his arms and quickly ran back into the bank, only placing him down when they were deep inside "You're safe now lad, you'll live to cry another day at least"

Cartri stared around the large bank lobby and frowned at the amount of injured and worried faces that surrounded him. It was unlikely that he was going to find his parents as things still shook around them, so it was only right to wait it out before even trying anything "Come with me..." he said down to the kid with tears rolling down his eyes, choosing to move forwards into a small place where both of them could sit. The teen got himself comfy as the kid sat uneasily beside him, his eyes darting around the room like a pinball "Do you recognize anyone here?" Cartri questioned, something of which was quickly answered with an instant shake of his head. Hoping for the best was all they could do for now as they waited for the aftershocks to finish, covering most of them in a layer of dust from the roof above. Yet, a small inkling forced him to prepare for the worst.

Within a few minutes, the aggravated shaking stopped. The survivors in the hall let out a breath of fresh air as many began to help the injured, while some began to fan out of the critically damaged bank. Cartri used the wall to clamber up to his feet, indicating for the hesitant boy to do the same "Come on, let's go find your parents and tell them about the awesome dodge you did huh?" he said with a small nudge to his shoulder, forcing a wimpy smile to appear through the stress that had consumed the boy. The two of them crunched over broken material on the floor and stood at the entrance, one of which was almost unrecognizable from before. With mere luck, a woman was walking along the street shouting a particular name. From that alone the boy's ears picked up and snapped to the familiar voice, his face changing into one of joy before he began to run straight at her in open arms. Cartri could only watch for a few seconds when they embraced each other, not wanting to get emotional over something he never had. Coughing to get rid of a choke in his breath he turned and went back inside the bank, leaving the view of the kid when he turned back to say thank you. Not only did the stranger save his life, but he also had a pocket full of credits to enjoy.

An hour passed in the bank as many of the original occupants had left, other than the shadow runner who was busy taking care of the dozen or so injured individuals and their families. The bank manager and staff had been more than eager to watch on, smugly shaking their heads to the mess the earthquake and the people had made to their bank "Get these gutters out of our establishment please, we have given them more than enough time to
lay around and stink up the building" commanded the manager who walked out of the security doors with a following of staff close by, adamant in throwing out the stragglers "Get them out of here..." he spat while putting his hands behind his back, leaving the staff to try and force them through the doors "Hey!" what do you think you're doing?!" Cartri said in a raised voice, his blue eyes shooting straight at the manager "Can we please wait for the medics first?! some of these people can't move by any means!" the teen said further, this time jumping to his feet so he could stand in front of the pompous manager "Well, that's their fault for getting in that situation. And, I don't listen to stupid k-" mumbled the man before getting cut off by a booming voice that echoed around the walls

"Everyone to the floooooor!" screamed the masked figure as he sprayed a mag into the roof like a mad man. Anyone who was standing fell to the floor like a sack of bricks while six figures secured the bank, closing off the main entrance and keeping the hostages under control. Two of them took guard on the blockaded doors, while the others began funneling around to collect money. The main player of the gang Erryl Vhone slowly strolled to the manager, who was visibly trembling and emotionally destroyed from his former confident self. Cartri on the other kept his nerve but was still terribly on edge from what was happening around him "Let me guess, you're the sorry man that runs this joint?" he grunted before suddenly leaning down to grab him by the scruff of his suit "Yes! p-please please don't hurt me!" he yelled in between sobs, his hands up to his face in protection "Well, if you want to keep your teeth I'd suggest opening the security door and giving me access to all the accounts. A man of your power can do this, correct?" the pirate snorted, leaning his deformed face into the managers out of intimidation "O-of course sir! you don't have to ask twice!" he mumbled before getting thrown in the direction of the door, forcing him to roughly fall face-first into the metal with a crash "Make sure he opens that door, even if he has a broken bloody nose" he growled over to one of his crew, who followed his orders without hesitation.

Below Erryl Vhone Cartri couldn't resist the urge to giggle from the manager's misfortune, drawing the attention of the boss who tilted his head in amusement "What are you laughing at boy?" he said in a half-serious manner, one that made the teen stop instantly when he finally looked up to him "Uh... nothing" was the only thing he could blurt out, a sense of dread going down his spine as the man got closer. Erryl suddenly forced him to his feet by the collar of his shirt and stared him in the eyes, noticing a look of fear in the boy's expression "Come on, it must be good if you're laughing over it. Please enlighten me, I've got a few minutes to spare" snarled the leader who shot a gaze to the bloodied manager finally opening the security door and sluggishly going to the terminal to open access to all the accounts they had to offer. Cartri wanted to say what got him chuckling, but a part of him told him not to in fear of what the repercussions would be. It seemed like he wasn't going to say anything at all until he unexpectedly opened his mouth "I-... I have a joke to tell you..."

Reave · Feb 18, 2021

CORE BANK
SAKEDO TOWER WARD

Seven Corners was on fire but around here you could barely notice. A few alarmed faces. Wails of distant klaxons. Buzzing HoloNet media reports. Mynock grimaced and lit a death stick. There was a superficial gash across his brow. Dried blood traced a pattern across the side of his face. Swoop engines rumbled beneath him loud enough to wake the dead. Idling on his modified Skyblade 330 drew a few looks but today most people had other concerns on their mind.

Five mins out.

He glanced down his pirated K64 comlink. Gyasi wasn't sure about having a partner but knew he couldn't pull a job like this off alone.

Landon seemed trustworthy and more important was clearly a better slicer. Electronic locks and droid brains were Mynock's thing. Swoop gangs didn't teach much else. Neither did spice runners.

"Nice swoop," the smuggler drawled in a frontier accent when his Darkwire contact finally pulled up alongside, "You still up for this?"

It sounded like a question Mynock would ask anyone. Not just a kid who looked way younger than he'd guessed. Might as well listen to what the little firebrand who talked such a strong game on the CryptNet had to say so Gyasi kept his cool. Appearances could be deceiving. After all he was dressed something like a wreckpunk musician or outer rim pirate.

Cassus Akovin · Feb 18, 2021

OBJECTIVE: 4/2

Cassus didn't work for Corpos any more. He'd gone "straight", a Shadowrunner to the heart. No amount of money mattered to him if it came from a Corpo, it was worthless to him.

Sometimes, however, extraordinary circumstances could lead him to old habits. The art of Bounty Hunting was a therapeutic exercise to him, something which he had done for his mother he continued to do for himself. Right now, he felt like he could use some therapy. The quake left him angry, and also powerless.

He wasn't a medical professional, he didn't own a company that had those kinds of resources, or if he did, none of the employees to enable a real rescue. There was an altruistic sympathy he had for all the poor in the slums of the Seven Corners District, but the only thing he was good at was finding people and making them wish he didn't. That wasn't the sort of person that went looking for survivors.

It made him angry because he knew exactly why they had to be survivors in the first place - money.

Seeing the Bounties posted gave him an idea to put focus to his anger, and put his talents to use altruistically. It did mean he'd have to take the Corporate paycheck, but he saw this less as being rewarded for service, and more so he was taking it from the hands of the undeserving to redistribute it where that wealth was needed most.

One in particular caught his attention: Tioerwa, the assassin.

Her vow was a lead, and it made him mischievously happy where it would put him. It was time to pay a Dug a little visit...

Doc Painless · Feb 18, 2021

Objective: 1 (Humanitarian Relief)
Location: Seven Corners, Volgho Hollows
Tags:

Jerec Asyr ,

Saro Nakaioma ,

Jocelyn Pavaliah , Muk Moadda,

Anakin Stormrunner

The Nakaioma shuttle took its time landing, and while he probably should have headed back into the tent to keep working, the Doc let himself have a moment's breather. Although 'breather' might be the wrong word; the air was thick with duracrete dust, a choking cloud that only intensified the misery of those still trapped in the rubble. Thankfully, it didn't bother the Doc much; his respiratory system had been augmented, and his cybernetics filtered out harmful particles. Still, his nose itched, and he knew that his snot must be turning grey by now.

What weighed more heavily on him was the quiet. It wasn't silence; there were sirens, the cranking of emergency generators, occasional wails of pain. But the background noise of Denon, of the city that went on forever, had been cut off. The hum of speeder traffic, the buzz of conversation, all the sounds that made Seven Corners feel alive had left Volgho Hollows in the hours since the quake. Between that and the stuffy air, the collapsed district looked and felt like a tomb... in addition to being an actual tomb to far, far too many innocent people.

The Doc shuddered. He pulled out a cigarra, went to light it, and then thought better of it, tucking it back away.

Steeling himself before he headed back in, the Doc glanced up just as the three maintenance barges made their entrance, flying in to brace the ruined buildings and check for survivors. He recognized

Jocelyn Pavaliah 's voice and smiled, wearily but fully; it was good to see more locals pitching in, doing what they could to help. He trusted them a hell of a lot more than he trusted any of the Corpos and their supposed humanitarian goodwill. The street medic waved up at the ships, though he doubted they would see it, and wished them luck.

As he turned to go, though, another shadow descended over the Hollows: a huge pleasure barge, by the look of it, coming in for a landing. The Doc winced as it touched down on the cracked duracrete, but thankfully the street held. And then the offer of shelter was broadcast, ringing out over the shattered buildings. The Doc would have been skeptical, fearing the predations of profiteers... but he'd met

Jerec Asyr and knew that the guy cared about his newly-adopted neighborhood. If Muk Moadda name-dropped him, that was a good sign.

The Doc turned and stuck his head into the med tent. "Get anyone who's mobile out to that yacht. We'll free up some beds."

Stepping back out, the street medic heard his name, and turned to find

Anakin Stormrunner and a pair of tag-alongs heading his way. He nodded at the kid, offering him a tired smile. "Anakin, yeah, I remember. You were at our... meeting." He didn't say 'Cryptnet' or mention anything about it directly, just in case anything he said reached Corpo ears, but he hoped he would be understood. Anakin's passion when speaking about the doppelgänger crisis had certainly made a memorable impression back then.

"Sure, we could use the help," the Doc said, offering the Twi'lek and Togorian a smile and a nod each. "Come on in. My staff will get you up to speed." If he noticed the slave brands, he gave no sign. Turning back to Anakin, the street medic sighed. "We're a little overwhelmed out here, but having them with us will help. What about you? If you're heading back out there, you can send any injured folks you find our way." Though pretty soon we'll have no place to put them, the Doc reflected, the bitter thought souring his mood.

Faction DISASTER ON DENON! Shattered Homes, Lives, and Profits [Darkwire]

NPC Account

Gluk, Stock, and Two Smoking Lasers

Corporate Shogun

Dream On!

Martyred Medic

Vigilante with benefits

Dangerous Beauty

Character

Grandma Jo

Nowhere to Run

Dangerous Beauty

Dream On!

Megacorp C.E.O.

Muk Moadda

Guest

Not a kid!

There's more than one way to be enslaved

Knuckles

dead orbit

Son of Triam

Martyred Medic

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