Cowls: A World of Supermen and Subterfuge

Downzone 2: Old friends, new enemies
Downzone 2: Old friends, new enemies

Almost immediately after you get settled in the ergonomic chair in your office, the phone on your desk rings. You pick it up, and the receptionist answers you. "Ms. Espinoza. You have a visitor. His name is Darius Oakes, Esquire."The sarcasm in the last word is obvious. Ah, you think. He's here. You were wondering when he'd show up to be smug about being right. To be fair to him, he kind of does deserve to take one or two cheap shots at you. This time. "All right. I'll be down to meet him."

You take the elevator down to the ground floor, and you instantly notice the handsome African-American man in the tailored suit who you consider to be a friend. Sort of. The kind of friend you can trust with your life, but not with a beer or your cash. A very military friend.

You deliberately ignore him for a moment, knowing it irks him. Looking at the cracked, questionably maintained street in front of the office and the faded traffic signs, you see an armored vehicle, labeled "SECURIS" in big bold letters. There's a couple of paramilitary types in insectoid body armor waiting next to it-not hostile, but clearly ready for a fight. Their joints bulge with the telltale signs of servomotors, and those rifles look similar to the E-Mags you've used in the military, rather than civilian-legal gunpowder weapons. They're looking out at the downzone slums. People have killed each other in these places for less than millions of dollars worth of high-end computers. You're not surprised they're here-Shamus wanted servers and security set up today, so your brother's chartered an armored car service. He's converted one of the basement floors into a combination of living space and IT services headquarters. Probably because he figures that the office is the most secure place he can find. You find that a bit paranoid-but he did save your life.

Darius looks at you. You keep ignoring him. There's a few kids running around-well, teenagers, but still kids. They look at the armored vehicle warily, taking in its sleek turret and its escorts. You don't doubt they're answering to a gang, planning to sell information on it in the hopes that they'll get prestige or cash as a reward.

"Earth to Little E." Darius finally says, voice smooth and melodious. He's said that it's natural. You suspect he wasn't lying. If it wasn't, he'd have been punched in the face a lot more. "You should be paying more attention."

"I was trying to deliberately ignore you." You respond, gesturing for him to follow you to somewhere secure.

"You should stick to things which you're good at." He says, when you get back to the fifth floor, stopping outside your office. "Like losing limbs. But seriously, it's good to see you again."

You do recall mentioning that to him a while ago, during your recovery. He helped you get the 'paramilitary body modification' license for the replacements. "So why exactly are you here? Last I remember you said you'd become this bigshot lawyer. What? Come back to the life of ass-kicking and simple, straightforward tasks?"

"Nothing's ever simple, E." Darius says. "I decided that working as an associate in Slaughter & May wasn't likely to get me where I wanted to, and I wasn't willing to take more amphetamines than I was doing as a fighter jock to do my job. Which is why I'm here. I'm going to make an offer you can't refuse."

"And that is?"

"I hear from rumors that you're head of security for a new company. One so new it doesn't have a name yet. You know how what happens if you don't have a legal team on staff, and it tends to involve things catching on fire and exploding, sometimes literally. Name me general counsel, pay me twice as much as I was earning in that old job, and I can be your talent. You know you're not going to get anyone better. So what's it going to be, E?" He asks, fingers idly drumming on the wall. "You want the best? Or do you want an old has-been who wants just as much money to feed their rampant alcoholism?"

"How much is that exactly?" You ask. As much as he aggravates you, he's right. He is very good at what he does. You have enough contacts back in the world of the rich to know that. Maybe not as experienced as the others you might be able to find, but smart, augmented, and diligent.

"Two mill." He says. "Plus performance bonuses. And of course if you want to take advantage of my more… unconventional dispute resolution capabilities, that'll require a combat and hazard pay bonus."

"You were Chair Force." You scoff. "How much do you really know about fighting when you're not flying a hundred million dollars of military boondoggle?"

"I recall you tried to show me up and lost a lot of money betting on yourself once." Darius reminds you. "So, 'enough.'"

"So 4 million plus bonuses?" You think. That's a lot of money. You can afford it, certainly, but with an operating budget as low as yours right now, it'd be a noticeable hit. "I'll take it under consideration."

***​

Form ANT-842
Truncated Report
Inquiry 00031- "Local Gang Presence"

Written by: "Vector"

Purpose of Report:
This report contains the findings of our investigations into local gang presences in the area, in accordance with rules and regulations, esp. Rule 6 (Reports must be filed when corporation assets are spent).

Findings:
Immolator and I have spent the last three days investigating the gangs in the region. Immolator got in contact with some friends of his who have moved around here in the past, while I spent my time lurking in seedy bars and making contact with local dealers to feel out the territory.

From what we've been able to determine, gang presence in the area is definitely increasing. I haven't been able to pinpoint why just yet, but I suspect that's the kind of thing better left to long-term investigations. Local corporations definitely play a part, though. A local corp, Energia Security Solutions, has pulled out the area almost entirely, putting a fair few civilian-level enhanciles out on the street with no means of paying back their debts. Harlaus has been downsizing, too, which has put a lot of people who relied on jobs from them in a lot of trouble with the banks that loaned them money from schools. Zenith Technologies and Jackfruit Technologies are both still operating in the area, but two corporations can't carry an entire prefecture on their own.

Shamus has been worrying about gangs in the immediate area, since they're the ones most likely to launch an assault against our office here. It was a valid worry, so I spent some of my time investigating them during my second day of investigation.

I'm not too worried about the threat they pose, after some investigation. The big three gangs in the area are the Cobras, the Rollers, and the Spectres. The Rollers and Cobras each have two civilian-level enhanciles, while the Spectres have three, but they're negligible concerns. Office security should be capable of handling them if they decide to do anything, especially if we support them somehow. There are a fair few smaller gangs, too- the Screaming Hyenas, the Grinning Skulls, the Black Widows, the Cruisin' Uzis, and a few others- but they're absolutely negligible, two dozen members each tops.

I guess we might need to worry some if they all start seeing us as a target, or if they start grouping up together. We should monitor them. Or just take them down now, before they can become a threat. Either way works.

We have bigger problems, though. Some of the bigger gangs in the prefecture are beginning to edge into our territory. They don't have any big presence yet, but that could change.

I'm not too worried about the Grocers. I'm not a big fan of people selling produce on the streets, especially illegal produce, but when it's actual produce- corn, tomatoes, beans, that kind of thing- I think I can turn a blind eye. They sell really good fish, anyway, even if I have to pay out the ass to get it.

The Black Smokes are a bigger problem. A gang that uses antique weaponry, the kind that actually produced black smoke, they're damned hard to trace- no identifiers on their weapons or any of that kind of thing. You have to follow their supply chains back and find out who supplied them, and by the time you've found that out, they're already gone, or so well-established it'll take years to root 'em out. They're only edging on our territory right now, thankfully. If we throw our weight around a bit, we should be able to prevent them making any real inroads for now.

The real problem is the effect all this is having on the area. Rivalries between gangs is nothing new, and even gang shoot-outs aren't unheard of, but when they're happening every two or three days, things are going downhill FAST. Sure, no particular gang is involved all the time, but there are so many that this stuff's happening near-constantly.

Businesses are finding it hard to maintain profitability with gangs so willing to tackle them to steal what assets they can, which means most have pulled out by now. This means the money flowing into the area's trickling up, making it harder for people to buy products from the gangs. Rivalries are becoming more and more heated as a result, as gangs try to eliminate the competition to secure what little money remains.

I'm kind of wary about the few businesses that remain. Either they're tough enough to withstand the gangs, like we are (at least for the moment), or they're exploiting the locale, and are making enough from it to soak the losses the area's causing. Well, or they're really just that altruistic, but if they are, they're not going to last much longer.

Not all the gangs are that bad, mind. A lot of them are pushing drugs and extorting local businesses, but a few of them have just been formed to protect their local communities and help keep things a bit safer. They're not doing a very good job about it, but hey. That's an inroad, at least. If we want to look at improving the area, we can look towards some of the less pushy gangs. We can probably even hire a few of them on, help flesh out a security division a bit.

***​

Form ANT-842
Truncated Report
Inquiry 00033- "Investigation into Syndicate Dossiers"

Written by: "Vector"

Purpose of Report:
This report contains the findings of our investigations into dossiers acquired from Syndicate contacts, in accordance with rules and regulations, esp. Rule 6 (Reports must be filed when corporation assets are spent).

Findings:
Shamus and I spent most of Tuesday and Wednesday nights going through the dossiers we acquired from the Syndicate.

There was a lot of irrelevant data in there- they're not very good at keeping their records up-to-date. They had information on enhanciles who were killed back in the early 80's, even- and Shamus is pretty damn sure they're dead, not just "dead". A lot of our time was spent just sifting the wheat from the chaff, trying to figure out what information in here was useful and what was just noise.

In the end, we narrowed down the useful information in it to a few different categories- enhanciles of interest, assets of interest, and further areas of investigation. I'll go into each asset a bit, but for the full report, you'll have to ask me.

The first asset, and potentially the most interesting, is an enhancile codenamed 'Chemist' (note to self: if we hire him, prepare Darius for the inevitable lawsuits from the other six Chemists out there). The dossiers indicate he's a man named Viktor Brandt. He can produce various liquid chemicals in place of the usual liquids one's body exhibits, and has protection from the ill effects of such chemicals. This, of course, would make him of enormous interest to our biotech research department- free production of rare chemicals would be an enormous boon, even if it's low-level production.

Our dossiers indicate he's homeless, and has only a scattering of knowledge of chemistry and the like, bartered in exchange for his chemicals. If we want to hire him, providing him with lodging, a steady job and access to further education could be the way to go. We'll have to be careful with him, though- someone used to bartering with his powers like this is a prime target for defection.

The second asset- probably the most valuable- is an enhancile called Vertex. She hasn't been around for very long, so the information contained in the dossiers was scarce. Her real name is Jennifer Austin. She's a teenager, attends a local public school, Summer Hill High. Seventeen years old. Father's a preacher, mother's a sinner- parents divorced, reason listed adultery.

She's demonstrated high-end civilian-level augments, physical and mental. Apparently got them from one 'Gerald Heinsworth', who's since gone missing. Nothing special in her powerset, superhuman physical capabilities, enhanced intelligence, better reflexes, better memory. What's unusual here is that she's taken to vigilantism rather than join one of the existing gangs in the area.

I'm interested in recruiting her. Someone who wants to take a stand against the corruption that's taken root here is someone I think is worthwhile to know. If we want to look into recruiting her, I'd say we should build ourselves a reputation as being altruistic, or at least as wanting to help out the community. Alternately, we could offer her money no-strings-attached, but there's no way Alfonso is going to go for that.

The last asset is a canine enhancile, 'Dogmented Agent'. Yes, your thoughts are going down the right track; he's a dog. Ex-police, ex-special forces. Human-level intelligence, capable of speech. Still canine in form, but has extendable 'tentacles' he can manipulate like digits. Never thought I'd say this, but the dog's better with tech than I am, too. Guess I can't pride myself on being better with technology than a dog any more. There was a scandal a while back about this. Guess he's one of the surviving assets.

He's currently embroiled in a pseudo-war with a nearby gang known as the 'Boosterboyz'- a gang known for heavy genetic modifications. He's been at it for nearly a year- the gang's just far too large for a single enhancile to deal with them. He's slowly making progress, but we can probably help immensely with that. In fact, that's probably the best way to approach recruiting him.

Right. That's enhanciles.

Assets were a bit more complicated. I had to spend some time investigating the leads we drew here and in the next section- that's why I'm handing this in today, not Thursday.

There was a lot of drek in here- martial artists who aren't worth a damn, minor surgeons, bribable doctors, and so on. Immolator listed them all up for you in a separate document, but that stuff's irrelevant to all this.

The assets I reckon are most important are listed below.

The first group of assets here are people I've actually heard of- Lima Seven-Nine. They were operating in Afghanistan for a while, Bangladesh after that. Last I heard, their CO was embroiled in some political corruption scandal, and they resigned in protest. Haven't had much luck finding employment since, it appears.

Seven-Nine was good, capital-G GOOD. Couldn't hold a candle to me, of course, but they were assigned to support some old friends of mine at a few points. Some of the newer AP models have tactical assessments taken from groups they trained. I suspect a few of them are minor civilian-level enhanciles, but if so, they've never reported it to their higher-ups, probably to avoid the team being split.

These guys, I know. If I approach them, I can probably get them to sign on with us, although it'll cost us. The first hint of corruption, though, and they're out. They're zealous like that.

The second group of assets here are the kind of people we've all heard of. Ex-cops, who've grown sick of not having the power to affect anything and resigned. This group's done better than most- only a few of them lack jobs. They've banded together to build a community centre nearby, and they all take turns offering up their time to help support it.

Cops aren't particularly good shots or anything, but they know the community damn well. The fact they've built a community centre only furthers that. People actually listen to them. If we want to help clean up the area, hiring these guys is the best first step we can make. We'll need to hire people to run the community centre, though, which won't be cheap- and we'll still need to pay their hiring bonuses.

The third group of assets is a conglomeration of drug producers who've been drafted by a large gang based nearby, the Summer Hill Gang. Almost didn't want to mention these guys, but it's better to have 'em on our side doing legitimate research than it is having them producing drugs for sale on the street.

If we wanna recruit these guys, we're gonna be tackling the Summer Hill Gang to do it, unless we can find some way to be sneaky-sneaky about it. We could set up a turf war and distract them, or find some enhancile who can get 'em in and out all sneaky-like. Maybe even hire some of their guys out from under 'em and announce their resignations that way. Or, we could just bust down their doors, knock 'em all out, steal all their shit, and rescue the druggoes.

That's the assets.

Apart from that, there wasn't too much in here. There's a few disappearances, local enhanciles, some community figures, a bunch of homeless people. If you want, I could look into them, but I'd probably be better getting out there and doing stuff. I'm not cut out for all this investigation stuff.

There's a private detective in the area, one Nicholas Lain. We could hire him to investigate it for us, but he doesn't come cheap- four figures a day, five figures a week. Might be worth it, if he can turn up anything. Not my call, though.



Vector currently has an operating budget of $20m, or 20 million dollars.This amount will increase over time and can be further bolstered by securing further assets for the company, stealing money from the people or organisations you are beating up, or expanding the corporation's business. This is not as big as it sounds, due to the tragedy of space-inflation.

Hiring new assets will cost money from this operating budget. If you run out of money, you don't currently have any means by which you can quickly secure more, so be careful!

[] Darius, an old friend of yours, has come to offer his services to your company. He's undeniably a fantastic lawyer, good enough that he could probably afford to retire comfortably in the Upzone if he wanted. However, he respects you enough that he's come to offer you the preferential option to hire him over anyone else.
[] Hire him for $4m. It's a ridiculous amount, but his legal expertise- and potential future access to his combat expertise- is worth it.
[] Your operating budget just isn't that large, and you have a lot of other assets you need to hire, now and in the near future. You really are sorry, but you can't afford to hire him right now.


[] Meanwhile, your investigation into the gangs in the area, and your research into the dossiers you stole from the Syndicate, have born fruit. You've learned of a few more assets into the area you might be able to make contact with, and hopefully provide yourself a better base with.
[] Look into hiring Chemist. It'll be expensive, but his presence and abilities alone should enormously boost your biotech lab's capabilities. Enhanciles have a tendency to do that. $1.5m
[] Look into hiring Vertex. You probably don't have a good enough reputation in the local community to do this right now. $2m
[] Look into hiring the Dogmented Agent. You don't think this will work just yet, as you haven't made enough progress against any of the gangs he's tackling. $2m
[] Look into hiring Lima Seven-Nine. A team of experienced military veterans is a powerful combat asset, a group who'll work directly beneath you. They won't be of much help elsewhere in the company, but if you're looking at taking on gangs with more members than you have confirmed kills, they'll be an enormous amount of help. $2m
[] Look into hiring the ex-police officers. There are rather a lot of them, nearly two dozen, and they'll each want hiring bonuses and hazard pay, but not only are they good support assets on the field, they're good PR. $1.5m
[] Look into sponsoring one of the gangs in the region to tackle another. It will cost you $.5m to sponsor a gang into waging war with one of the other smaller gangs, or $1m to outfit one of them well enough to convince them into tackling one of the larger gangs. This can be taken multiple times.
[] Look into hiring one of these gangs. They're rough and uncouth people, but you can never have too many warm bodies working for you in security. It's better for them to have stable employment than roaming around, anyway. $1m. This can be taken multiple times.

[] Not all the assets in the region are such special assets. You have regular assets you can look into hiring, too. Ordinarily, people would come to you, but you're not established enough in the region to have such a reputation. It's better for you to go out and meet them.
[] Travel to the various local universities and schools in the area, keeping an eye out for anyone with talent or education in chemical and bio-engineering studies. Putting up small scholarships will help immensely, but you can find people to hire immediately, too. $.5m. This option can be taken up to three times.
[] Travel to the various local universities and schools in the area, keeping an eye out for anyone with talent or education in mechanical engineering studies. Putting up small scholarships will help immensely, but you can find people to hire immediately, too. $.5m. This option can be taken up to three times.
[] Travel to the various local universities and keep an eye out for anyone with talent in journalism or media relations. Your PR division is really, really stunted right now, almost non-existent. $.5m. This option can be taken up to two times.

[] There were some oddities in the Syndicate dossiers- people going missing where they shouldn't have, even enhanciles mysteriously disappearing. That can't be a coincidence.
[] Look into it yourself. Shamus and Immolator can support you in your investigation. Given enough time, you should be able to figure out what's happened to them. (Locks you out of the next vote.)
[] Hire Nicholas Laine to investigate these oddities for you. Trusting a private detective is rarely a wise move in your line of work, but he's one of the best in the Downzone. $1m.
[] Put it off until later. That's never gone wrong before, right?


[] Lastly, you need to decide what you're going to do with regards to the gangs in the area. This isn't safe, not for the business and not for the local community. You need to do something about it.
[] Division is a powerful tool. It's one you prefer to wield yourself, rather than have wielded against you. Your best bet here is to begin making inroads with some of the smaller gangs, slowly poisoning them against the larger ones. This could go badly, of course- you want to whittle them down, not start a massive gang war you don't have the capability to put down just yet. 0.75x
[] Division is a powerful tool, but elimination is a better one. The gangs won't be a threat if you just put them down. You can threaten or hospitalize a lot of their members, neutralize their leaders, and liberate their assets for your own use. It risks destabilizing the area, but if you're effective enough about it, you should be able to shut them down and begin stabilizing the area before the larger gangs around you finish pushing in. 1.5x
[] The best way to handle this isn't to directly combat the gangs. It's to combat the effects they're having on the area. Bolster small businesses with donations, support drug rehabilitation programs, and start trucking in quality-of-life enhancements to make everyone's lives a bit better. Sure, it'll pretty much bring your corporation's growth to a halt, and it won't actually get rid of the gangs, but it'll make the region a bit more stable. 0.5x
 
Downzone 3: Obstacle Clearing
Downzone 3: Obstacle Clearing

"So do you want a diamond pony and a mansion as well?" You ask Darius. "That's a lot of money." He's right. You really need someone like him on staff, and since he's here...

"Maybe in a few years, but not right now. I feel charitable, and you're in luck." Darius replies. "I know you're going to make the right decision and hire me. I can see it. You know that it's going to happen."

Goddamn precognitives, you think. If it wasn't for that quantum mesh in his brain maybe he'd be a little less smug and a little less punchable-but he's right. Damn the smug bastard, he's right about everything. Sure, there are better attorneys-people with augmented research skills and a direct neural interface loaded with all the relevant knowledge-but not at the price he's asking. Your family has one on retainer and you're pretty sure they end up with ten times that income, easily. And Darius, as much as you hate to admit it, is a friend. "You're in." You say gruffly. "As long as you don't fuck up we won't fire you."

"I won't." Darius says smugly, and you resist the urge to punch him.

***

The conference room is just as spartan as the rest of the fifth floor. There's a long wooden table taking up the centre of the room that you strongly suspect didn't even come pre-built, a dozen uncomfortably hard chairs, a small whiteboard, and a laptop hooked up to a projector. Not even a fancy holoprojector like well-off businesses have-a standard projector.

Even with yourself, Darius, Shamus, Immolator and Alfonso sitting in the room, it still feels uncomfortably empty.

Alfonso coughs awkwardly into his hand, drawing everyone's attention towards himself. "Alright," he begins, wringing a handkerchief in his hands as he speaks. "This is our first weekly meeting. I've taken the liberty of asking Shamus to write up our minutes as we go."

Shamus raises his hand in acknowledgement.

He drones on for a while, going on about KPI's and employee performances. You don't pay much attention, zoning in and out and occasionally glancing at Shamus' laptop to keep track of what's going in. The rough gist of it, you gather, is that the company is still bleeding money at the moment, but that's to be expected. Biotech production is expected to begin within the next two weeks, and contracts have already been set up. Apart from that, things are going well.

"Alright," he concludes finally, a solid twenty-five minutes later. When you let out a sigh of relief, he smiles wryly at you. "I think we've just had our first volunteer, too! Vector, would you like to present your report now?"

You blink, a bit startled. Beside you, Immolator silently hands you the sheaf of papers you'd prepared.

"Right," you say slowly. "Um. Did everyone read the reports I submitted earlier in the week?" You wait for everyone to nod in assent. Okay then. You exhale slightly.

"I've been working with Shamus and Immolator over the past week, conducting several investigations into the area." Your outlines are sketchy. Sometimes, like today, you wish you had some talent for clerical work. It'd make remembering what you've been doing over the past week easier. "You all have copies of the security department's budget and spending in front of you. Could you please get those out?"

Once everyone pulls out their copy of your budget, you continue. "I've spent twelve million over the past week hiring various assets. Darius here-" You gesture unnecessarily towards him- "is one example of such. I'm sure he will prove himself a valuable asset to the company.

"Aside from that, I've hired another enhancile, code-named Chemist. He requested a short grace period of no more than one week before attending, so he should be here by next Monday. I believe Alfonso plans to assign him to the Biotech division?"

He nods. "Yes, indeed. His ability to synthesize chemicals should be a definite asset to our scientists down there." Darius nods. Shamus and Immolator just look bored. They've certainly had a lot less practice pretending to pay attention.

You hum noncommittally. "I've assigned Immolator the task of heading to local universities in an attempt to recruit scientists for our business," you continue. "Immolator?"

"Huh? Oh yeah." He sits up… well, as straight as he ever does in the chair. You wish you could slouch half as well as he does. It'd be amazing. You could be almost twice as disrespectful as you already are with minimal extra effort. "I went over there and started speakin' to some people, who pointed me off the right way. Didn't get a lot of interest- apparently someone's already bankrolling a fair few of the guys there- but a few people were willing to come aboard and see what's what. Got probably ten, maybe fifteen people who're studying biology and chemistry- already told you about them, right, boss?- and maybe half as many people who're studying engineering and media."

Alfonso nods. "You told me about them, yes," he replies. "I've already spoken to our biotech division and administrative staff, and informed them of their new arrivals. I assume you have a reason for recruiting engineers prior to obtaining the necessary assets to produce cyber-technology, Vector?"

You nod. "Yeah, I'll explain in a bit." He makes a small sound of agreement, so you continue. "Alright. Uh, where was I… right. There were some irregularities in the documents we obtained from the Syndicate. I don't think it's anything much, but I've hired a local dick-" Immolator starts to snigger but stops when you glare in his direction "-called Nicholas Laine to look into it."

You take a deep breath.

"Finally, I plan to hire several assets to work directly beneath me." You watch everyone's faces carefully for a reaction. "I've made contact with a military team I know from my time in the military, and a handful of ex-police officers. I intend to have both of them support me in a short-term campaign to eliminate the gang presence nearby."

And then the room explodes in questions.

***

"Alright, alright!" you shout over the sound of everyone's indignant cries. "Hold on, let me explain what I intend to do."

They all subside, although you spot both Shamus and Alfonso still glowering at you.

"This area isn't… stable," you say carefully. "Gangs are running rampant over the area, and it's causing the economy around here to tank. Businesses are shutting down, which means more people are turning to gangs- it's a vicious cycle. It's a vicious cycle that's hurting our bottom line, so it's one that we need to end as soon as possible."

Alfonso sits back in his chair, his mouth tightening. He doesn't say a word, but you can tell he's displeased.

"Alright," Immolator says slowly. "Kinda sucks you're planning to just get rid of 'em. Personally I'd probably recruit 'em, get some of 'em working for you, you know? But hey, you're the boss- well, you're my boss. Still, I hope you got a plan."

"I do." You nod sharply at him. "There's a community centre nearby- the ex-cops I hired were working for it, although we've hired people to run it in the meantime. My goal is to eliminate gang presence from there within the next week, and spread out from there, effectively eliminating gang presence in a nine-block radius within the next two months."

Darius levels a cool gaze at you. "That's a very ambitious plan," he drawls. "Have you considered how you are going to ensure that area stays gang-free? Eighteen blocks in either direction is quite a distance."

You crack a smirk at him. "The nice thing about gangs is that they tend to have money on them," you counter. "And the business won't be idle while we're working. I'll find the assets we need on the job, same as I always have."

He rolls his eyes. "A foolproof plan, then."

You ignore the sarcasm in his voice. "Yep!" you say brightly.



[] You have your plans. The only thing left to do is decide how you're going to go about it… and who you're going to do it with.

[] The first thing you need to do is figuring out where you're going to hit first. There are a lot of targets you could hit, after all, and a lot of different targets to aim at. (Note that these are targets to hit and avenues to strike down. You're not limited to them; write-ins are, as usual, freely available, and will probably help a great deal.)
[] You're going to focus on hitting them where it hurts- their wallets. Most of the drug production done by the gangs is done in a repurposed storage shelter three blocks over. You can go there, hit them, steal their chems, and liberate their money. It won't do much to get them off the street at first, but it'll give your budget a bit of a boost, and it'll prevent them using their money to worsen the upcoming fight.​
[] You're going to focus on stripping their status as a threat from them. This means you're going to hit their armouries, yes- there are a few of them, most of which are masquerading as clothing stores or pawn shops- but your bigger target is an illegal biomod clinic, a good seven blocks over. This could backfire big time, if you're not careful, but could make things easier in future if you're successful at it.​
[] You're going to focus on ending their influence in the local community. Hit their image- show the community the kind of acts they get up to, and the death and decay gangs leave in their wake. The best way to do this will probably be to focus on eliminating their thugs, freeing up businesses from having to worry about being burned down. You'll have to provide support as businesses speak up about what's been happening, but the best way to end the gang's influence is to show what their influence has done.​

[] Take Darius with you. He's not just an excellent lawyer; he's also a fantastic combatant, albeit not as fantastic as you are. Sure, hazard pay is expensive, especially when you're going up against people with guns, but the assistance of a third enhancile on the street will only help. $1.5m
[] Leave Darius with Alfonso. He needs to brief your brother on the legal restrictions- and loopholes- that a business owner in this prefecture needs to know, anyway.

[] Take Lima Seven-Nine with you, and leave the ex-police officers to defend your office. Lima Seven-Nine is definitely the better combatant, although they're trained military-style; they'll leave a lot more bodies behind than the ex-police will.
[] Take the ex-police officers with you. Although they're not as well-trained as Lima Seven-Nine, they'll leave far fewer bodies behind than the ex-military group will.

Codename: Vector
Powers:
Physical Boost [3]
Teleportation [4]
Traits:
Martial Artist [4]
Strategist [2]
Ex-Military [2]
Stats:
Tactical [5]
Negotiation [4]
Security [2]
Technical [0]

Codename: Shamus
Powers:
Mental Boost [2]
Technopathy [1]
Traits:
Hacker [3]
Fugitive [2]
Stats:
Security [4]
Technical [4]
Negotiation [1]
Tactical [1]

Codename: Immolator
Powers:
Plasma Control [3]
Limited Flight Capabilities [1]
Traits:
Ex-Gang Member [2]
Down On His Luck [2]
Stats:
Tactical [4]
Negotiation [2]
Technical [2]
Security [1]

Codename: Sicarius
Powers:
Precognition [4]
Enhanced Reactions and Durability [2]
Traits:
Ace Attorney [4]
Top Gun [3]
Military Training [1]
Stats:
Tactical [3]
Negotiation [3]
Technical [2]
Security [2]


Support Asset: Lima Seven-Nine
Traits:
Grizzled Veterans [3]
High-Caliber Weaponry [2]
Stats:
Tactical 4/+2
Negotiation 0/+0
Technical 1/+0
Security 1/+0

Support Asset: Former Police Officers
Traits:
Boots on the Street [2]
Serving the Community [2]
Riot Shields and Pepper Spray, Oh My [1]
Stats:
Tactical 2/+1
Negotiation 3/+1
Technical 1/+0
Security 1/+0
 
Downzone 4: Sabotage
Downzone 4: Sabotage

The two men are dressed in all black, long-sleeved shirts hiding their military-issue cybernetic limbs. In the dark of night, they seem to blend into the background. They move silently, picking the lock on the pawn shop. The owner has reinforced the doors and barred the windows, but against military-grade intrusion tools they might as well not be there. There's nobody here tonight. The gangs might fight, but they have their own twisted codes of honor. As long as you play the game, things will work out. It's about honor and the machismo of youth, not about conquest. Their new enemy plays to win.

They look through the shelves, ignoring the shotguns and grenades and bulletproof vests, finding a handful of weapons worth taking. A gauss pistol, a West German PPK12. A single EMP grenade, an old-style bomb-pumped version rather than a reusable capacitor version. A small tube of demolition nanopaste. Everything else there is too bulky and primitive to be worth much. Instead, they'll deny it to the enemy. The men are long gone when the incendiary grenades explode and the pawn shop is consumed in flame.

A different pair of men stop at a small warehouse, still dressed in black, with the same cyberlimbs and cybereyes. The men raise their handguns. Two quiet coughs, and both of the gang members fall. They move in, open the door, throw a pair of incendiary grenades in on a 2-hour timer, and vanish into the night. When the Rollers rush to their burning weapons cache to salvage the ammunition there, it has long since cooked off, leaving them nothing but smoke.

A woman uses her immense strength to break the lock on a discount clothing store. The alarm would go off, if her partner in crime had not silenced it already. She prowls through and opens the door to the employees' only section, looking at the selection they retain for special clientele. She whistles at the equipment there. Most of it is the same low-grade or improvised armor she's seen insurgencies use-steel plates welded onto industrial exoskeletons, vests woven out of kevlar instead of fullerite-weave carbon or shape-retaining smartmetals. She takes the most expensive-looking machines and drag them out to the waiting truck that has just stopped in front. They drive away silently, leaving none of the armor or tools there for the gang to use.

A young man furtively picks the lock on the abandoned restaurant. Some letters have fallen off, and now the faded sign advertises "HOT ZA." The only thing 'hot' in the small building though, are the guns. With a wave of his hand, he sets them on fire, and then he runs, trusting in his gang colors and similar clothing to keep him from being noticed. Nobody questions him as he calmly walks away like he owns the streets. He has a few more stops that he needs to make before the night's over.

A woman dressed in fullerite-weave commando fatigues, currently blurring green-gray as they mimic the tiles in the facility, grins as she addresses the man in the segmented plates of US Army-issue Rodger Young-class powered exoskeletal armor. She hasn't even broken a sweat here, let alone drawn any weapon more dangerous than a stun baton. She notices the bullet holes and the evidence of combat, which she regrets slightly. She was hoping that her presence would have drawn away the enemy . "Sergeant. Report."

"Biomod facility is secure. No wounded on our side. Two KIA on theirs, one aug. Most of the hostiles are WIA. We're pulling the blueprints off of the server now and we've got an armored car coming to haul the gear away. Lots of black market stuff, more fit for pit fighters than soldiers. Wolvers, ripperjaws, weaponized cyberlimbs, dermal plate, intramuscle stims, black-market reflex augs-the old kind that give you Parkinsons' after a decade… we're doing a good job keeping this shit off the streets."

***​

"I thought these meetings were weekly meetings," Darius says dryly. You poke your tongue out at him as you take a seat, James moving to sit beside you again. He's making a good intern. "The meetings are whenever we need to update each other on our progress," you toss back. "It isn't my fault that you haven't made as much progress as me."

He inclines his head back, conceding the point. You're pretty sure he would have continued with the verbal spar, but Alfonso clears his throat a moment later, bringing everyone's attention to him.

"Okay," Alfonso says, his voice ringing clearly across the table. "I trust everyone has read the minutes from the last meeting, and doesn't need to be reminded of the topics of discussion. Vector, you called for this meeting. Do you need anything, or are you ready to start?"

You look at James, who looks up at you, nodding. "No, I don't need anything," you reply. "I called this meeting to report my progress with the execution of our plan to eliminate the gang presence in our neighbourhood."

Darius suddenly gives you an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

Great. Now you're annoyed, and you haven't even outlined your progress yet.

"As discussed during our last meeting, Immolator and I have been conducting small-scale raids on facilities within the local region." You try to modulate your voice, keeping your annoyance out of what you're saying, but it's hard, especially when Darius starts rolling his eyes even harder. "With the assistance of the soldiers we recently hired, we have been conducting assaults on facilities known as being fronts for weapon smuggling and storage. The raids have been extremely successful, with upwards of four hundred thousand dollars worth of weaponry confiscated or destroyed in one night, before they could reinforce or disperse their assets. We also lead an assault against an illegal biomod clinic, fronted as a warehouse. The clinic's assets have been confiscated, and we burned what we couldn't take. They won't be making any more mod-freaks any time soon."

Shamus looks up at you. "I take it you are the one responsible for the arsonist squads, then?" he asks mildly.

You blink, taken aback. "We're a small-scale precision assault squad," you say slowly. "We took all reasonable steps to ensure there were minimal casualties."

"Ah." He types something rapidly into his laptop, then spins it around so the screen faces you. There, on the screen, is a newspaper page- third page, you note- with the sensational headline, "Arsonist Psychopaths in Winter Hill?!". "It seems there were casualties regardless."

"Well, yes," you say. "It's hard to conduct raids like this without either killing people or drawing undue attention. I could have brought the police officers with me instead, but I thought it'd be better to guarantee the mission's success."

He shakes his head. "I'm not disagreeing with you," he notes.

"I am." Darius waves his hand in a quelling gesture. "It's going to be hard to spin this as something positive, Ez."

An annoyed sigh escapes you. "How's that?" you ask.

"You lead an actual death squad into the middle of the prefecture." He takes on a lecturing tone. "We opened very recently in the area, so people are naturally monitoring our operations. When something new starts happening, people are going to take notice, and naturally assume it's our doing."

"Yeah, but-"

"I'm getting to that," he rebukes you mildly. You let out a frustrated groan. He hadn't even let you ask why that was a negative thing, this time. "Yes, gangs are bad for business, but you can't forget that they're still filled with people. Those people are typically a part of the local community. They have friends, family, workmates. Those people often miss them once they're gone. It's not a bad thing in a wider view, but to the local community? Yeah, we just killed people they knew."

"We killed gang members," you reply, feeling a little affronted. "I don't think-"

"Yes, yes." He waves your response off, causing you to clench your teeth. "It won't turn the entire community against you, not just yet, but it doesn't look good. If you don't want this to spiral into an image problem, you should deal with it sooner rather than later."



Leading Lima Seven-Nine in operations within civilian areas has created tensions with the local community. It was definitely effective, though. You stole hundreds of thousands worth of assets from the gangs, and gave your biotech department yet another bundle of assets, to boot- and you did so without a single injury on your side. You also now have the basic equipment to install, if not actually develop, non-enhancile grade cyberware. +$.5m

[] Darius is definitely right about your image. If you want to maintain a good image amongst the local community, you're going to have to step on this, and preferably before rumours begin to take hold. You could, of course, ignore it- all that will happen is that your reputation won't be good amongst the local community. It's nearly irrelevant to your corporation even now.
[] Ignore it, and continue on as you are. Lima Seven-Nine is far too good, far too efficient to give up for no tangible benefit- they're an asset who probably won't be killed in the field for a good while, and they're ones that can provide you with solid support in and out of combat.
[] Sideline Lima Seven-Nine. You'll probably need to sideline them for, hm… the next month, or maybe two. It shouldn't cause a problem if you leave them to guard the office, but if people catch them fighting alongside you in the field while memories of your raids are still this fresh, they'll draw the proper associations. You can kiss your PR goodbye at that point.
[] Pay to counteract the rumours. You can probably hire some mercs to act similarly for a while while you have Seven-Nine operate elsewhere, and you could hire a few unscrupulous journalists to quell the rumours that your company is involved. It'll be expensive, but you can keep Lima Seven-Nine on hand for a while. $1.5m

[] And you still have the rest of your battle with the gangs to consider. How are you going to approach the next phase of your operations?
[] The gangs have been defanged. The obvious next step is to begin to kick ass. 1.5x
[] Take Lima Seven-Nine with you. They're valuable military support, and proved themselves as being extraordinarily helpful earlier. Of course, they're still loading lethal weaponry- you suspect it would be a very involved task for you to try to turn them non-lethal. +.2x
[] Take the police officers with you. They're combat assets, even if they're not particularly good in the field, and they're non-lethal. Of course, even defanged gangs might be lethal to people as untalented as them.
[] Do it alone. Who needs support when you have yourself and Immolator? Two enhanciles should be more than enough to kick the asses of the local gangs. +.3x
[] Begin subverting the gangs. Hire some on, turn others against yet more of them. With the gangs defanged, the chances of a lethal gang war aren't too high. 1.0x
[] Focus on stealing any remaining assets the gangs have- drugs, any small caches of weaponry, money, and so on. It'll be slower and more involved, even with Shamus' help, but it'll effectively eliminate the local gangs as a threat- for the moment.
 
Downzone 5: Counter-Insurgency
Downzone 5: Counter-Insurgency

You want to take advantage of the gangs being in complete disarray, suddenly too poor in arms and armor to waste it on anything but their most trusted soldiers. The last several days have been relatively peaceful-no longer are there gunfights between two dumb people wearing the wrong colors carrying assault rifles. It's not the ideal outcome, but you're satisfied with it.

It's been enough that the company has started more initiatives-getting your biotech and cybertech employees out to hospitals for training, training people who were once gang members but are now out of jobs to act as security for both the local area and the company.

You've done counter-insurgency planning after all. If the local populace isn't safe and secure, the local populace will rapidly become resentful of the occupying presence and see them as invaders. You don't want that to happen. So as soon as they've been capable of doing milk runs, you've had them in the populace, working with them. Taking over the gangs' old jobs as protectors-but without the menace and the machismo.

You think it's working fairly well after two weeks. They might be amateurs, and their movement and marksmanship sloppy, but they have the local connections and the reputation to help turn things around. The spate of arson and the accusations have started to fall by the wayside. And as things go sour for the gangs-the gang members sign up with a place which can appreciate their talents. A place like yours. There's enough talent heading your way that you can skim the cream of the crop.

So you're as surprised as anyone else when you're woken up at 3 AM by an emergency alert. You know that the cops have been given commlinks, that they could call you at any time, but they haven't done so for days of active patrols. "What is it?" You ask. You almost say 'this better be important' but you trust them enough to know that it has to be important."

"Shanahan's men are pinned down at the old theater. They were investigating rumors of some sort of drug deal and now they've been attacked. It's probably bad. I- I don't know what to do."

"Officer. Calm down." You're reflexively dressing yourself even as you talk to him via implanted comms. "I need you to describe what happened as clearly and concisely as possible." You use the calm tone of voice that you've learned from military experience, the one which helps reassure newbies that they're probably not going to die when people are shooting at them. "Don't leave anything out."

By the time you've put on the powered mobility suit-thankfully clean of any insignia from your previous employer-he's finished his explanation. Shanahan, his partner, and his boys-his ex-gang-members-had fished up rumors on the street of some guy selling K-Kamikaze-at an abandoned theater. Half of a military drug cocktail-all the physical boosters and the confidence jump, but none of the drugs that kept you inhibited and calm while doing it. So they went in for the bust, but apparently had run into heavy resistance-guys in improvised power armor and augs-and taken heavy casualties.

Your security had sent reinforcements at the request of the officers-more ex-cops with light gear, and they were currently pinned down by quite a lot of firepower. That concerns you-they shouldn't have much remaining now that you've burned or stolen most of it.

"I'll handle it." You say confidently. "Don't worry."

You arrive on the scene within minutes, with a handful of rapid teleports and a lot of running. The crystal-lattice muscle is stiff right now-it hasn't had enough time to warm up to operating temperatures. Your security people are bunkered down behind solid pillars, their cars-which have been perforated-and anything else solid which might withstand emag fire. Several of them are wounded, badly.

You then focus on the hulking figure in the middle, probably the dealer's heavy. He stands half again as tall as you, muscles bulging and studded with reinforcing struts. He wears combat pants but no shirt, all the better to intimidate with his boosted physique and bulging muscularity. A customized exoskeleton has been directly bonded to his bones, and his body is covered with heavy metal plating. He's not even bothering to take cover against the shotguns and rifles of your security personnel, preferring to one-hand an abomination of a weapon and sweep it in deadly swathes across the perimeter. His glowing augmented eyes notice you, and he grins. His teeth are sharp, set into a metal artificial jaw.

He expects you to feel some fear, or hesitate. He doesn't realize that you're a military-built enhancile and he's a mere aug. You disabuse him of that notion in a heartbeat, as you vanish and reappear right next to him, hands on the bicep of his gun arm. You can feel the pulsing of the myomer underneath, the hot radiator studs that keep it from seizing up. There's a lot of it there, enough that he can one-hand a machine-gun taped to a grenade launcher with ease.

But he's not nearly as strong as you are. You twist around in midair to get leverage on him, twisting his arm with one of yours. The overstressed myomer bundles and titanium bone struts explode. A bit of blood-not much-spatters around, but myomer coolant fluid splashes everywhere. To his credit, he doesn't howl in agony-either drugged or running pain shunts, then.

The gun fires wildly as it falls to the ground, and he tries to attack you with his other arm. A wicked blade runs from his elbow to his wrist, and it snaps forward as he tries to stab you. You're almost tempted to let him try-against the muscle suit you're wearing he'd have difficulty breaking armor with that-but instead you dodge it contemptuously, kicking his feet out from under him. You stamp on his good arm. Once. Twice. A few more times.

He tries to get up despite both ruined arms, and you kick him. He stays down. His compatriots, pointing guns at you, wisely drop them. "We surrender!" They shout, wisely. You've just annihilated their ace in the hole in 15 seconds. They should have known what happens when you take a Frankenstein's monster of an aug and match them against a combat-focused enhancile, but it's a lesson people tend to not grasp until they see it.

***

"You seem to be calling these meetings with disturbing regularity." Alfonso mentions, as you and James hand everyone some pictures. It's been two days since the incident, and nobody's in a good mood. It's been the first notable setback if you don't count the arsonist article, and nobody's counting that now.

"Look at what they were equipped with." You say, getting right down to business. You show them the pictures taken of the hi-tech weapons the drug dealer's men were caught with. They're not the best of the best, but they're definitely a cut above the surplus weapons the gangs have typically been running around with.

"EM rifles, armor-piercing ammo, smart optics. Airburst grenade rounds, smart fused. And of course a M-7 Squad Support Weapon, taped to a M-12 multishot grenade launcher." Darius says. You wish he'd ask what they were, but he's probably done his research already just to piss you off. "So it looks like you missed the good stuff when you were pissing off your friendly neighborhood watch. How is this our problem instead of yours?"

"Except I didn't." You say. "I'm sure that we got their major armories and that biomod clinic. They can't have much left after we trashed all their major sites. So someone else has got to be funding them. Someone's giving them military grade weapons. Not cutting edge-that'd cut down the number of people who'd have access to them, but definitely good enough to make them a real threat. Our ex-cops can handle some thugs with guns and rifles, but they can't handle something like this. They're not trained."

"Which is to say that they're actually really bad at this whole 'not dying' thing. Probably why people got fed up and started using private policing services." Darius says contemptuously. "Should have spent your money on LARs."

"Everyone else calls them killer robots." you sigh. "Nobody calls them lethal autonomous robotics. Anyways," you cut him off before he can retort, "this might be an opportunity. As you remember, I hired a detective to deal with the missing persons thing, right?"

"Yes, I believe you mentioned that in one sentence in your report." Alfonso says. "Did he uncover something?"

"He believes that that the missing people were smuggled out-country, and that these same channels are being used to smuggle weapons to the gangs. There's some corporate connection to these channels."

"So we'll assume, worst-case, a hostile corp is backing them. What do we do?" He asks.

"We keep operating like this was an oddity and see what they do next."

***

It isn't an oddity.

Over the next few days, reports keep flowing in of more coordinated gang attacks. Several times, you've had to intervene personally, bailing your new employees out when they got in over their heads. You feel fortunate that unlike the original incident, nobody's died. But there's a lot of people in the hospital-and it's been touch-and-go for several of them.

There's something weird going on. No gang should be this coordinated, and no gang should be this well-supplied without you being able to track their weapon shipments. But for the life of you, you can't figure out what's going on.

It's the middle of the fourth day after the initial attack when you receive your worst report to date.

A soft chime in your ear alerts you to the message. A small motion activates your earpiece, allowing you to hear Shamus' voice through it.

"Vector." Shamus' voice crackles coolly over your earpiece. "We are receiving reports of multiple simultaneous incidents within the vicinity. On-site personnel have confirmed they are wearing the same uniforms as the gangs that have been attacking over the past several days. Uploading relevant data to your visual matrix now."

It only takes a moment for the information to upload. A small, transparent map of the surrounding area appears, displayed by your mechanical eye.

Five red dots blink on it, each tagged to a particular location in the city- most likely the ones Shamus had been describing to you just earlier. A simple command brings up the uploaded data, a small note attached to each of the six dots.

[] "Okay," you mutter, reaching down to draw your vibrosword from its sheath. "How heavy is the enemy presence at each? Should I bring Immolator with me, or send him to a separate location?"
[] "Keep him with you," Shamus replies. "Aug presence has been reported, and I'm not sure Immolator is up to the task of taking on a group of augs by himself. He's more useful to us uninjured."
[] "Send him off to one of the other targets," Shamus replies. "Aug presence has been reported, but we can't afford to sustain any more losses than we must this early in the company's growth cycle. It's risky, but there's a chance he'll be able to save it without being injured."​

[] You hum for a moment, scanning each of the six targets. It takes you a moment to decide, but eventually you decide to hit....
[] Downfield Hospital. According to Shamus' tag, Alfonso has been sending many of the new biotech recruits here, likely to gain experience in the field and to create enough rapport to potentially secure new contracts. If you prevent the gangs from hitting this hospital, you'll stop them from press-ganging a good portion of your biotech recruits- and you'll gain enough rapport with the hospital to potentially be able to recruit from there and sell them assets, too.
[] Eastfield AugMod Clinic. According to the tag, this is one of the company's biggest upcoming investors, having already provided your company with a standing order for over half a million worth of biotech augmentations every month. Reports claim that gangs have definitely brought augs with them to combat the clinic's own augmented guards. If the raid there is successful, the company's finances are going to take a heavy hit.
[] Copperfield Agricultural Systems. Shamus' report claims that this farm system provides most of the non-soy-based products the community enjoys. It's also responsible for employing just shy of a thousand people. There shouldn't be anything for the gangs to hit here, unless they're trying to topple the community here. Is there something you're missing? Either way, if they hit here, the effect on the community will be terrible- hundreds of jobs will be lost, and the community will lose access to legal groceries.
[] Zenith Technologies. The tag notes that Zenith is another corporation in the area who had nearly entirely pulled out, leaving behind only a few shell offices and a single R&D department. The corporation has recently been struggling, though, and losing these assets could drive them into bankruptcy.
[] Move in to assist Zenith Technologies. It's always good to gain some measure of rapport with other corporations in the area. With something mobilizing the gangs around here, it'll also be good to have some actual allies in the area, even if they can't provide much support directly.
[] Move in and use the raid as a cover to loot the company. They have an R&D department. You have a bunch of cybertech researchers on hand. One plus one equals two. Sure, you'll probably have to muscle one of your recruited gangs to move the stuff and pay them to keep silent to Lima, but you'll have a functioning Cybertech department! Costs $.5m
[] East End Warehouses. The tag notes that this is mostly a storage and shipping facility, where large quantities of products are stored before being distributed amongst the rest of the prefecture. You doubt they're interested in most of the stuff on the list, which is mostly soy-based foods and various furnitures, but- there. Several shipments of low-grade SS26 units, robotic labourers that can be reprogrammed to fight in a pinch. They're not even close to as good as your old AP32 units, but they'd definitely make the gangs more of a threat.​


Meanwhile, once you've handled the immediate crises, you have something else you need to consider. You got rid of the gangs' weaponry. You're sure of it- you still have it, even. So where did the gangs in the city get even better weaponry? Who's funding them? And who is organising them like this? You don't know- but you need to find out. The only question is how.

[] How are you going to investigate this? What assets are you going to use, and how are you going to use them?

As a reminder, your current list of assets are:

  • A minor biotech department, staffed by a minor enhancile codenamed Chemist;
  • An administration department, staffed by regular administration workers;
  • A legal department, staffed by a precognitive enhancile named Darius;
  • Yourself, a generation 5 enhancile with enhanced physical capabilities and the ability to teleport;
  • Immolator, a generation 4 enhancile with the ability to control plasma and limited flight capabilities;
  • Shamus, a generation 4 enhancile skilled at hacking into places people don't want him in and capable of interfacing directly with cyber-systems;
  • A leader trained in business and administration, named Alfonso.
 
Downzone 6: Triage
Downzone 6: Triage

You make an immediate decision, going for the powered muscle suit. "I'm headed to Eastfield. Send Immolator to Copperfield, and tell our new security personnel to meet him there. Lima 7-9 will be joining me at Eastfield."

"Are you sure this is wise?" Shamus asks. "You're leaving our own employees in the lurch."

"I'm not. It's time for me to call in a favor." You say. There's a lot of ex-military in corp work now-especially in the kind of work which involves gunfights. You've kept in touch with a lot of those types. You don't think there's going to be any difficulty calling in some privately-owned QRF to stop everyone who needs stopping. "Make a call to Firewatch, ask for Captain Griggs. Get me on the line as soon as he answers. Meanwhile, do recon with what you have. Get me camera feeds, drone coverage, whatever you can. Get Chemist and whoever knows how to do first aid and surgery up to do triage on the wounded."

"Understood. I hope you know what you're doing."

"Don't worry. I do." You say, and you feel pretty confident about it.

"All right. I have Griggs. Patching him in." Shamus says. "Are you sure about this?"

You are sure about what you're doing-but you also know what he means. About having to rely on mercenaries to save your employees-well, Alfonso's employees, but you're making more than a few decisions, and he trusts your judgment. Maybe a bit too much, you think.

"Hey Hal." You say, voice serious. "How are things at Firewatch?"

"Not bad, Ez. It's all the cool stuff about my old job, minus all the bullshit we had to deal with. So what's going on?"

"I need to hire your guys to help me with something." You say, getting down to business. "I need a tactical team at Downfield Hospital ASAP-I have people there who I'd like to remain unharmed, and they're under heavy assault by gangs-they may have augs. I have another enhancile who will be briefing them on the way."

"This isn't something that I can do for free, Ez..." he starts.

"I know. I'm paying standard rate, plus QRF fees. I just need them here ASAP, and I need the site secure. Minimal collateral damage. Maximum speed."

"Got it." Griggs says. "I can get a Firewatch tac team on your location in... fifteen. I assume that'll be fast enough."

"They should be fine holding that long." You've reached the armory and your suit. You strip down to the actively cooled undersuit you've been wearing as habit, and allow the armor to open up, its sinuous, organic movement as muscle elements detach and curl away no longer disturbing. In a well-trained movement you let yourself into the armor and it closes around your body, then the armored helmet flexes forward and surrounds your head. There's nothing but blackness for a moment-but you've used armor like this before, and it doesn't scare you. You've asked for that change since the Syndicate raid. It's less photogenic when the armored vision shield's up, but you don't want to lose an eye again. Replacements for those tend to be expensive.

Then the camera systems boot up, and your vision comes back. You grab your vibrosword and a sidearm from the armory-a large, intimidating-looking gun for enhancile use, loaded with fat, high-explosive slugs and a smartlink for variable detonation-you clip a variety of grenades onto the combat harness of the muscle suit, strap a multi-rocket launcher onto your back, and you meet Lima Seven-Nine and their fast attack vehicle. They're already in, waiting for deployment. You simply hang on-it's not as if hanging onto a fast moving vehicle is difficult for you.

"I have a Firewatch Attack VTOL moving towards Downfield hospital." Shamus says. "They're talking to me at this moment, and I'm giving them what I know about Downfield. Immolator's moving in first on Copperfield, with whoever we could spare and arm of our new security militia. So you're heading into what I know is the heaviest fighting. Eastfield is being attacked by multiple gang technicals and gang augs. It looks pretty ugly." A video link, blurry black-and-white, shows up in the corner of your vision. You can just make out the overmuscled gang augs stepping out, huge mountains of meat and cybertech wearing kitbashed-together combat armor. More videos, this time of the clinic's security cameras, much higher resolution ones. The gang augs have numbers and weapons on their side-you can see the trails of RPGs streaking everywhere. The clinic's security is doing well-but they're not equipped to repel an attack like this for long. "Looks like at least a dozen augs, all of them loaded for heavy combat-plus multiple combat vehicles and lots of regular support. They're literally busing in goons by the busload." Another black-and-white picture, this time of a bus with scrap metal armor welded over it, an oversized engine that protrudes from the back, and a half-dozen old-style machine-guns sticking out of firing slits. "'Ghetto APCs,' apparently." You regret momentarily having not attacked their vehicle pool, but the gangs do things other than attack people for no reason. Did things, anyways. They're just out for blood, and being much better equipped and funded now. You'll need to figure that out as soon as you finish fixing this problem.

***
You have Lima stop the FAV a block away. It's too vulnerable to RPGs to risk-and even if it's a military grade vehicle which should have defenses against cheap 50-year-old Soviet rocket launchers, you know quite well that things break down in war. Especially since this is military surplus, almost two decades old and long-obsolete for frontline duty, something that gets pawned off to National Guard forces which can't afford any better. The same with the old-style powered exoskeletons they're wearing. You wish you had enough of a budget for newer ones and better weapons. "We'll flank them from here." You say, bringing up a map on everyone's HUDs. "They should be occupied taking on the security. Prioritize heavy weapons-and keep yourselves safe. The goal here is to have everyone come back home, not to get kills. Wait until I fire first. Got it?"

They nod. You immediately teleport to the tallest vantage point you can see, a building several stories high, probably a nice high-rise until Downzone became... Downzone. You unstrap the launcher from your back, check its computers like you were trained to do in the military-all drilled reflex and step by step muscle memory-and it interfaces with your suit's targeting system fine. You sweep it over the battlezone, locking onto targets. You can see the heavy machine guns of the gang augs and technicals blazing away-cars hastily refit with gun shields and heavy weapons, with salvaged steel and titanium plate welded onto them. You lock onto a few of them, and lock onto more of the buses-the improvised armored personnel carriers and mobile fortresses. One of these launchers is pretty expensive, and you don't have enough money in your budget to waste them. So you have to make every shot count. In the Philippines or Panama, you'd have been firing individual missiles at people-not even augs, but basically kids. That was a bit distasteful. At least this time it's not a slaughter, but a fight.

None of the gang members have noticed you-they're busy driving back the clinic security. You see a few badly wounded security officers-the ones unlucky enough to be close enough to a RPG detonation or a grenade, or hit by the gangs' new weapons. Probably light augs, you think-most of the corpsec there were just regulars, with basic reflex and physical bioware but nothing high-end. The gangs are using military electromags for their augs, and some of them seem to be wearing old military exoskeletons, bulky suits with grenade launchers and integrated weapons. Third world knockoffs, rather than high-end Soviet/NATO/Chinese types, but still more dangerous than the usual weapons in a gang war. They've lost quite a few of their exos and augs already-but there's just much more of them and they have vehicles and heavy weapons.

Well, they had vehicles. You and Lima's AT specialist fire simultaneously. Twelve missiles streak upwards towards Upzone above-there's no day or night sky, not here, not underneath Upzone-and arc down, hypervelocity tungsten slugs shrieking back down. Several of the armored buses explode-the missiles you're using are designed to take out modern light armor, rather than improvised combat vehicles, and the initial slug guts them just in time for the explosive warhead to fling itself into the hole and detonate inside. They start turning, several of the augs already firing at your position-

and you vanish, one hand on the hilt of your vibrosword, another drawing the smartpistol, appearing in the middle of the heaviest enemy aug concentration. You slice one's arm off, shoot another in the chest, indifferent as to whether they live or die. You don't have time to spare here, not on making sure nobody's dead, not when you have people to prioritize. The third roars, tackles you. He's fast for an aug, his cybernetic jaws tipped with rectractable razor-teeth and his massive cybernetic arms hiding a veritable arsenal of blades. But he's still an aug, not an enhancile, and you break out of his tackle-a woman a quarter his size-and kick his much thinner leg out from under him. Whatever leg reinforcement he was using clearly wasn't up to the standards of his upper body modifications, and he goes down. You teleport again, into a thicket of unarmored gang members, and you hit them with your sheathed vibrosword. Guns drop from broken arms, people fall as their legs snap like twigs. You move again, targeting one of the few remaining technicals. Another one explodes as Lima puts an anti-vehicle slug from a Pilum coilgun into its hydrogen fuel tank, the wreck bouncing several feet.

You teleport into another group and they drop their guns, standing in fear. "Shit!" one of them says. "We surrender! We surrender!"

"Drop your weapons, don't do anything stupid or you're all dead." You say. Switch back to comms channels. "Shamus. What's our status?"

"Your friends in Firewatch cleared the hospital. No civ casualties, minimal collateral damage. No hostile survivors. Immolator's held Copperfield, along with the militia they drove away. Upon Darius's PR recommendation, I had Chemist and the remaining medics show up at the hospital as soon as Firewatch cleared it. They've been working on the wounded, including a few of ours. Casualties for our militia-probably low single digits-we've got 2 dead, 8 critical condition. Figure a 2/3rds chance of their survival. Immolator's fine." He takes a breath. "We've just survived our first corporate war."

"Do you know who's responsible yet?"

"No. And I think we should take stock of what's happened and figure out where to go next before that."
***
The next day, you show up early to work, to prepare for the inevitable interviews and everything else that comes with having gotten involved in a major gang war. Darius is already there, with his own coffee. It smells a lot better than the bad instant coffee in the office break room, which means he's probably got his own machine hidden somewhere. You've taken over the buildings nearby for housing-after the incident, it was easy enough to decide to move everyone closer for security reasons. The place is looking a bit more like an armed compound-your militia are wearing uniforms now, and their weapons might be a mess, but they're looking like a coherent force.​
"So." Darius says. "The hero of the hour returns." You smile wearily at him. His tone isn't too sarcastic, which means he's probably happy. Then again, he grew up in a place more like this. He's probably sympathetic to saving parts of it. "Bad news. You wasted millions of dollars and four lives on saving a bunch of assets, many of which aren't ours. Good news. The local news loves you for it. As your brother's celebrity-of-the-hour status implies."

"Get to the point."

"The point is that now that people are paying attention to us, I have come to the unfortunate realization that you, your brother, and I don't even know what this company's name is or what it's supposed to be doing. And then we can tell him before 9 AM, so maybe he won't embarrass all of us on TV. So what exactly are we doing?" Darius asks.

"I thought you knew. Didn't you incorporate the company?"

"Look, I just wrote 'for all legal purposes' in the articles of incorporation, Ez." Darius says. "No point being more specific when that's all you need to."

You think for a moment.

"Oh yeah, and while you're thinking, maybe we might want a good name. I'd ask Alfonso to give me one-but you know how he is at names."

"Yeah." You say. "I wouldn't wish those names on my worst enemy."



So, what exactly is the company you've founded called?
[ ] Write-In

And where, exactly, do you plan to take the company?
[ ] Write-In

How does Ez feel about what happened yesterday?
[ ] Write-In​
 
Downzone 7: Calm
Downzone 7: Calm

You watch the press conference on cheap pirate TV. You could represent the company-but on the other hand, you don't want to show your face. Not when there might be corporate spies around, looking for a loose end. Shamus made a good point about staying quiet. Stay quiet, stay safe, don't get attention from your former employers. You've never been the best at keeping a low profile, but you still try. And anyways, with Darius there-you're pretty sure both of them are safe from an assassination attempt. He might be an asshole but he's the kind of asshole you can trust with your life, just not with your beer.

"Mister Espinosa." One of the reporters says. She looks downzone. Not the sculpted cosmetic-modded bubbly reporters of a proper news station. Probably a downzone newspaper. Not from someplace as bad as where you are, of course. You're here because the property values were dirt cheap and Alfonso figured with 3 enhanciles, even a rough neighborhood wouldn't be much of a threat. He's probably right. "What can you say about your intervention yesterday in the escalating gang war?"

"We are pleased to announce that we at the Prometheus Group are here to stay. Although we plan to specialize in enhancement biotechnology, we will, rest assured, be bringing security-and prosperity-to this neighborhood. I understand that times are tough," your brother says to the nods of the audience, "and that things have gotten worse. But with our dedication to the community's welfare-I believe we can survive and prosper in these tough times."

"What do you say about the allegations that you're just here to make a profit?"

"Well yes." He says, chuckling. "I would be irresponsible if I wasn't here to make a profit. But I believe that a strong community is the pillar of a profit. There is so much talent here that's lost, which doesn't get the opportunity to thrive. So our company extends beyond just augmentation, into uplifting-both people, and the society. One cannot thrive without the other."

"And what about your security forces?" Another asks, suspicious. "What do you say about the amount of armed force you bring? Are you just another gang?"

"Nothing could be further from the truth." Alfonso sighs theatrically. "We believe in security. We cannot have prosperity without safety-prosperity for either party. As many augmentation customers are in the field of private security, we will of course have in-house security to ensure such a tragic attack like yesterday's never happens again-and that if it does, we can prevent it before any harm comes. Obviously talk is cheap, but I believe the actions we took yesterday to mitigate harm to the community will demonstrate that we mean what we say."

There's some applause at that. It's almost enthusiastic, you think. That's good.

***​

You haven't even managed to make it to your car after work when your earpiece buzzes again. The harsh tone informs you that this call isn't from someone on your private network, so it's not any of your employees. You answer anyway, prepared to move for the killswitch immediately if the call isn't legitimate.

"Nick here." The detective's cool synthetic voice is familiar enough- and hard enough to recapture- that you relax momentarily. "Got an update. Can you meet me soon?"

You hurriedly reroute the connection through both Shamus and Immolator's headpieces, allowing them to listen in on the conversation if they turned their earpieces on. "Sure," you answer distractedly. "Have to talk to you anyway, I've got another job for you. How soon do you need to meet?"

"Not my concern." You can almost hear his shrug over your connection. "Preferably sooner than later, if you have another job for me."

An annoyed grunt rises in you, stifled quickly. You'd planned on meeting with the gang members Immolator had selected as being worthy of further consideration, but that wasn't urgent, or at least not as urgent as tracking down the stolen Zenith assets..

"I'm free now." You hurriedly call up a map of the local area. "Is there anywhere in particular you'd like to meet me?"

"Bar called the Smoking Gun. Know where it is?"

A quick search brings up the building's address. At times like this, you really wish development on upcoming features like image searches and navigational routes was progressing better, but it was hard to integrate features like that into HUD's. It'd probably be really annoying to figure out how to use them anyway. You don't relish the thought of having to beg Shamus for training on stuff like that.

"Yeah, I can make it there," you reply. "Meet you there in thirty?"

"Sounds good." The connection closes abruptly. A tired sigh escapes you, choked back quickly, before you begin making your way to your car again.

At least the bar isn't too hard to find. It's an archetypal seedy joint. The bricks out the front are stripped of paint, graffiti replacing them faster than the owners could wash it off. Smoke drifts out from beneath the doors of the bar, and the sound of rock washed over you from half a block away.

You park your car out the front of the building. You're not worried about anybody stealing it- it wouldn't be hard to find in any case, and anybody who was stupid enough to steal it deserved what would happen when you found them. Besides, two burly men stand out the front of the building, glowing red eyes staring mercilessly at you as you climb out of the car. Augs. The bar must be doing far better than it appeared if they could afford to hire augs just for bouncers.

"Hold on," one of them grunts as you approach the building. "No weapons allowed in the bar. Put any you have in this container here-" he taps an empty blue tub sitting on a chair beside him- "and we'll return them to you on leaving."

"Certainly," you reply. Leaning over, you take out your wallet, placing twenty one hundred dollar bills in the tub.

The bouncer looks in, then nods, satisfied. "Thank you for your compliance," he rumbles. "Have a pleasant day."

The bar is even more archetypal inside. Smoke drifts and curls around the floor, snaking up and around the feet of people sitting furtively on tables astride the wall. You're not sure, but you suspect that all the bottles resting in the racks behind the counter are whiskey or cheap beer.

Nick is sitting off the side, nursing a whiskey himself. A glint of light is reflected from his steel jaw- a prosthetic replacement for a jaw lost in an explosion some years back, the Syndicate dossiers had told you. His left arm and right hand are also prosthetics, as bionic as his lungs and voicebox. His liver, too, but that was from the whiskey, not the explosion.

When he sees you, he waves you over, inviting you to sit down. You move over and raise an eyebrow at him, dragging a stool towards you and seating yourself atop it.

"A bit over the top, don't you think?" you ask, gesturing around you at the bar.

He nods in acknowledgement. "Deliberate design choice, I think. Owners wanted to sell an experience, or something. Police used to work in the region, corps had less influence, more PD's around. Now it's good to scope out the competition, see who's the real deal and who's a poser."

You know what he means. Ideas like that had been popular around a decade back. With things like organised crime syndicates and kidnappings falling, many businesses like these had fallen through. A lot of people were still fascinated with noir fiction and the like, so you can see the sense in building a business to sell that experience.

"Who're the posers, then?" you ask.

He looks at you with an expression somewhere between a smirk and a sneer. "Anyone in here," he replies disdainfully. "Real PD's don't work from bars. Terrible for privacy. Better to work in an office, or maybe a car. Depends."

"And yet here we are," you point out.

He nods, ceding your point. "Others are interested in your case, sticking their noses in. Keeping an eye on them, making sure nobody's after them yet. Useless idiots couldn't save themselves from being killed by a stray soybean."

"How noble of you," you reply dryly. "Anyway, you said you had something for me."

He reaches down, lifting a heavy briefcase that he sets atop the table in front of you with a solid clunk. He doesn't open it immediately, though, waiting patiently as you search your own pockets for the dockets confirming the payments to his account- Shamus had been kind enough to send them to you daily. They're in your back pocket, for some reason, and come out crumpled and dog-eared. Nick accepts them without comment, turning the briefcase towards you and opening it.

It's filled with files and photos- dozens, hundreds of them. Too much to go through here. Excellent. "Thank you." You pop it closed. "Give me a brief synopsis."

He drums his fingers against the table. "Kidnapping," he starts. "Fairly certain. Don't know who's behind it, but they're picking off homeless, elderly, people without friends or family with resources to hunt after them. Found more victims- a lot more. Dozens, maybe hundreds. Can't find records of them leaving."

You hum. "Hundreds of victims," you muse. "Unlikely to be a serial killer, then, although it could be an enhancile. Could be murder, could be a face-stealer, could be human trafficking, could be another gang starting up. Got anything more for me?"

"Little." He reaches into his pocket and draws out a cigar, which he quickly lights, blatantly ignoring the lack of an ashtray on the table. "People were poor, downtrodden. Could be gang movements, but unlikely, doesn't match any patterns. Nobody's seen them since. Either dead, or someone with lots of property involved." He politely turns his head as he takes a deep draw of the cigar and exhales, smoke streaming from his mouth. "Could investigate further, but a lot of information there. Would take time, which means money, or help, which means money too. Course, you said you already have another job for me. What is it?"

You mentally shift tracks, following along the man's rapid changes of subject as best you can. "Someone attacked a local corporation. I want you to find out who, why, and where they are now."

He flicks the cigar ash out onto the floor beside the table. Behind him, you can see the barkeep shooting you both a dirty look. "Why?" he asks. "No, ignore that. Saw on the news. Gang attack. Zenith, yes? Will track them down. Standard rates, ten thousand an hour."

"Done." You'd been prepared for this, and have enough to cover him for a week or so set aside without affecting your discretionary fund. The little you'd gained from the raids had been enough to cover that, at least. "Call me if you find anything. I'll be in touch."

And with that, you're gone.

----------​

The next day, you find yourself sitting back in your office alongside Immolator, staring down at a group of men and women. Nathan, the leader of Lima, and Juliet, the woman unofficially in charge of the ex-police you'd hired, are sitting across the table and to your left, while across the table and to your right are five younger men and women, the gang members Immolator had chosen for you.

Immolator is the first to begin talking, looking between the papers in front of him and the people in front of you. "Okay," he begins nervously. "I've asked you to meet us up here today to discuss, uh, a proposal Vector and I have been working on." He shuffles through the papers nervously, looking for the notes he'd drawn up for himself. "It's an extension of the militia program we discussed, uh, some time back."

He looks up at you, flustered. You give him an encouraging smile, which he returns weakly.

"As you all may or may not know, Prometheus is, um… sorry. Vector and I are part of Prometheus's security division, as you all, uh, probably know. One of the services Prometheus offers is, um, private security. Vector and I, we don't like the thought of keeping that kind of thing privatized, so we want to train you guys to… not be privatized." An embarrassed flush creeps up his cheeks. You rub his arm soothingly, which only causes him to flush more as he scrambles to look through his notes.

For a brief moment, you consider taking over the meeting for him. Immolator is an enhancile, and he does work in the security division with you, but he's still just a teenager, and one who'd dropped out of school some years back, to boot.

But then, that's exactly why you wanted to let him take the lead on this. It won't do him any good for you to take over for him- all it'll do is cause him to rely on you and follow orders. And if you wanted obedient soldiers, you could have just reached out to your contacts in the military.

Instead, you lean over to him and murmur into his ear, "Breathe, James. Take your time."

Thankfully, he listens to you, taking a few deep, slow breaths as he sorts through his papers.

"Sorry," he says eventually, looking up to take the reactions of the people in the room in. Nobody is looking annoyed with him- not that anybody would have dared to, with you sitting beside him prepared to glower menacingly at anyone who so much as looked sideways at him. "Where was I… uh, explaining the project, right."

"Vector and I don't like the thought of keeping our security privatized," he begins again. "We're certainly willing to offer our services to businesses and corporations for a price, but we don't want people to feel unsafe on their streets or in their own homes. Juliet, I'm sure you understand." The blonde nods at him, a small smile gracing her face as he continues to talk. "But Vector and I can't… can't keep the streets safe on our own. We're good, but we can only be in so many places in once, as we all saw recently."

"Yeah, trust us, we all noticed," one of the gang members muttered darkly. You shoot him a glare, and he almost falls out of his chair. "Noticed your, uh, timely arrivals! Yeah…"

Immolator coughs loudly, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "I spent most of yesterday drawing up a proposal," he continues, studiously ignoring the interruption. "I've run it by Vector and Alfonso, and they both approved it, but it's going to be useless if you guys don't like it. And you guys live here, which none of us have. So… If any of you have any thoughts on it, I'd really appreciate it if you'd speak up." Having finished his speech, he began quickly handing out sheafs of paper, handing a small stack to each of the people he'd called up here.

You look down at your own copy in front of you.

The proposal is fairly simple. You want your recruited gang members to begin training beneath Lima and the ex-officers, bolstering their skills and hopefully making them good enough to hold their own in the kind of skirmishes they might encounter on a day-to-day basis. They don't need to be good enough to take on augs on an even footing; that'd take years, even if they had the talents for it. Years and the kinds of weapons you don't have easy access to. They only need to be good enough to survive against other half-trained baselines.

You also want them to go out on recruitment missions, bolstering your security personnel that way. Immolator phrases it rather more diplomatically, of course, but no matter what you call it recruiting is recruiting.

While they all read the proposal, you glance at each of the five gang members in turn, then down at the papers in front of you. Some of the papers are your copy of the proposal, but others are notes Immolator and Shamus prepared for you.

A profile for each of the gang members sits in front of you, full of irrelevant details like their home addresses and schooling levels. You weren't interested in that; only in the information that might tell you more about who they were.

***​

Eamon Guinness, listed at age twenty-four, is the first. The leader of the Black Vipers. The Vipers started up around ten years ago, in fact- most likely in the chaos of the public-sector police department being informally retired. A lot of gangs had started up in that time, but the Vipers had had a significant advantage most of them had never had; the man who'd led it for nearly eight years had worked in corporate security for a good two decades before leaving to found the gang.

Eamon himself, from everything you could tell, was a sharp individual. He'd completed schooling, and was even currently going through university- even more impressive than it sounded, because Northmire University, the one he was attending, was particularly aug-heavy, attracting people from the neighbouring regions of Ulysses and Kingsman's to it. Given how prosperous those areas were compared to the region you were trying to take control of, it was impressive that he was able to maintain his scholarship, even if he wasn't getting particularly good grades.

That was why Immolator recommended him. He was already displaying both leadership capabilities and strong affinity for mental augmentations. If you could secure his loyalty, he'd make a perfect recruit for an officer in your division.

Tara Khalsa, listed at age twenty-eight, is your second major prospect. While not affiliated directly with the leadership of her gang, the Hellions (trademarked by a company over in France, you absently note), she'd been instrumental in getting the gang up and running five years ago. The gang was affiliated with the Grocers, but with a more criminal bent to them; they made a habit of travelling to nearby regions and hijacking shipments of fresh food, then undercutting local grocers to swing a profit for themselves. They'd been doing pretty good, but attrition was getting to them- losing an average of a member a run did that.

Tara was one of their handful of intelligence specialists. Shamus hadn't been able to find out how she knew, but she reported shipment movements and was able to determine the levels of security each shipment would have "with 78% accuracy". It was possible she had good hacking skills, but it was also possible that she had crafted and maintained personal relationships with people within various corporations.

Immolator notes she's clever. You lean down and add your own note- Be wary. Suspicious levels of knowledge. Be careful she doesn't leak our own secrets.

Lucas Newman
, listed at age thirty-one, is the third profile and second-in-command of the Hellions. He organizes their sales and hides their activities from corpsec and the remnants of the police. Hiding from even cursory efforts from corpsec requires a decent amount of competence, so you can see why Immolator thinks he's a prospect.

Contrary to your initial expectations, the man doesn't seem to be a technologist type. A bit of a shame, really, considering how powerful a tool they seemed to be in Shamus' hands. Then again, not everyone can have a data uplink connected directly to the towers installed in the roof of Upzone hanging over your heads above. Hell, most people didn't even have a connection- it took money to be able to access the web of information stored in the towers at all.

Karena Valli, listed at sixteen, is the fourth profile. She's not affiliated with a gang- or, well, she was, but that gang was one of the ones that dissolved when you began systematically destroying their weaponry.

She is, in a word, mercenary. Working for the highest bidder as a killer for hire. Young, but you've seen child soldiers. Fought against child soldiers. You're not surprised that a 16 year old can kill someone for money. You are surprised that she's lasted this long without any augs, but you suspect gangs can't afford that many of them normally.

She's good with explosives and small arms, according to Immolator's notes. Nothing compared to Lima or yourself, but probably better than the ex-cops. She probably isn't a good choice to lead the militia, but she could definitely be a solid asset in combat if trained and augmented. If you can find a way to secure her loyalty.

You add a note to her profile, too. Keep an eye on her. Can't have her being made a better offer.

Naomi Cooper
, listed at age twenty, is the fifth and last profile in front of you. The co-founder of the Atom-Smashers, a gang that used to operate in this region, and the current leader of the Golden Valkyries, possibly the most pretentious name for a gang you've ever heard.

Naomi seems to be a sentimental woman, for a gang leader. The Atom-Smashers are a very influential gang in Winter Hill, the richest and most prestigious area in your prefecture. When they'd begun gaining influence and prestige, she had started to disassociate herself with them, remaining firmly embroiled in local politics. Eventually, the Atom-Smashers had left entirely, and she'd stuck around to form the Valkyries.

Immolator's notes claim that Naomi is a very charismatic woman. You haven't seen any signs of that, yet, but it's hard for charisma to shine through in a setting like this. You'll have to take his word for it for now. If true, though, it's definitely a solid point in favour of bringing her into this.

***​

"It's a good proposal." Juliet is, unsurprisingly, the first one to speak up. "I can't promise that the others will go for it, but I don't think any of them will have an issue with trying to get the gangs off the streets."

"No issues here either," Nathan says next. "Discretionary budget seems to be high enough to cover equipment and facility costs for training, and scheduling seems fine, although you're not going to have many boots on the ground for the first few weeks. Sure about that?"

Immolator looks over at you, hesitant again. You nod at him, gesturing for him to reply. He does, albeit hesitantly. "Yeah, no, we got the delay covered. Vector and I need to hit the streets for a while anyway, so we'll be on hand to respond to any situations that occur."

"I see."

You wait a moment, but nobody else offers any input. You lean close to Immolator again, murmuring into his ear, "Ask them for ideas."

He nods. "Uh, do the five of you have any ideas?" he asks.

Nobody speaks for another long moment, until eventually Naomi lets out an annoyed sigh.

"Don't got too many," she replied. "Might be a couple gangs I can look into, a coupla people around here'd probably sign up if we told 'em we're plannin' on cleanin' up the streets. Might cost a bit, though, guess I'll have to bring it up if it happens an' all."

Eamon perks up. "Are you thinking about anyone in particular?" he asks. "I've got a few ideas, we could probably work on it to come up with something good."

She considers it for a moment. "I was thinking the Hulkers," she muses. "Edward ain't a bad guy, and since most of 'em have been his friend forever, we could probably nab most of 'em. Ultraviolents could be somethin', boss lady over here only took out their stashes, not their connections. Could be worth it if they're gonna train us up."

"Hmm," Eamon hums. "I'm not too sure about the Ultraviolents; they're a little, well, violent for my tastes. The Hulkers aren't a bad idea, though. They're really only tagged as criminals since they've been hitting Bluelight businesses and Bluelight set their corpsec on them. Maybe the Retros, too?"

You notice Immolator studiously copying down what they're saying, off to your side.

"Dunno 'bout that." Naomi taps the man on his head. "Retros are pretty far gone, over in the Meadery. Don't fancy havin' to go through the Kingsmans' to get to 'em. Not sure enougha their answer to risk it, y'know?"

"Right." He looks a bit let down, but continues. "Perhaps the Summer Hills, then? Nobody's had the balls to try to recruit them since Spook eviscerated the Rollers, but with Vector and Immolator here, we might actually be able to do it."

"That's an idea," Lucas interrupts them. "The Summer Hills are close enough that we won't have to fight our way through too many other gangs to get to them, and we do have some enhanciles of our own to counter him."

"Yeah, but what could you offer him to get him on side?" Karena gestures at you. "Sure, the boss over there can teleport, but just beating him up won't do us much good."

"A fair point," Eamon concedes. "Perhaps, then, Anna?"

"Anna?" Immolator asks curiously. "Who's that?"

"A minor enhancile," Lucas answers. "Makes drugs and such for the gangs over in Kingsmans. Nobody's had any luck in recruiting her, since she's able to make plants and stuff defend her place for her. I'm betting you could help with that, though."

"Kinda ignoring something, though." Karena speaks loudly enough to ensure that everyone can hear her. "Recruiting gangs sounds neat and all, but we're gonna need some practical experience if we want everyone to get the most out of training. The more we recruit, the less people we'll have to take out."



[] For now, Alfonso's business is largely set up. You have your team beneath you, there are various hires in the department, the biotech team is finally producing enough items to begin putting the company in the black again, and Shamus has set up his IT department and is officially heading it. Even Darius has been busy, setting up both a legal department and a PR department for you, although he's only heading up the legal department. You do have one final decision, though; you need to make a final decision on whether or not to set up an investigatory department.

[] No; you'll do fine without an investigatory department. Not knowing the situation around you is risky, but drawing the wrong kind of attention is even worse.

[] Yes; you need an investigatory department. There's always the chance that your efforts will draw the wrong kind of attention to you, but you need to have a good idea of what's going on.
[] You'll need someone to head the department, of course. Your best choice would be to pull Lucas Newman from the militia pool and assign him to the department. He's had experience in this kind of thing in the past, and the best part is he's already working for you, so you won't need to pay him anything extra out of your discretionary budget- Alfonso will handle his ongoing wage increase.
[] You'll need someone to head the department, of course. Your best choice would be to pull Nicholas Laine in and make him the offer. He's said to be one of the best private detectives in the region, and managed to pull together a list of over a hundred missing people in just a couple of weeks from next to no information. He's expensive, though. Really expensive. $1.5m​


[] You're also going to have to decide on where you're going to focus your efforts for the remainder of this quarter. You gave yourself a timeline of 12 weeks when you started this venture, and you've used 6 weeks of it so far. The gangs that attacked earlier seem to have gone to ground, so you've bought yourself some time. Where are you going to put your focus for the next, say, fortnight?

[] You go into fights with the army you have, make sure that it's the army you want. By going to some of your old military contacts and picking up some decent gear, you can make sure that army will be capable of handling much more dangerous threats. It'll cost you some money-you're looking for good military surplus rather than old SPIWs and other 1960s relics from a dusty National Guard armory-but you could probably sneak in some upgrades for all your forces in there as well, including Lima.

[] You're going to assist the militia in their patrols around the city. By covering them in fights, taking down any augmented soldiers they may cover and preventing them from coming under heavy fire, you can prevent a lot of casualties that might be incurred while they're still in training- and get them used to working with enhanciles. It'll also let you keep the forces on the ground light, so the net result is that you'll have a lot more militia to work with when all's said and done.

[] You're going to spend your time working with your militia trainers and their leaders to reinvent community policing. By doing this, you'll hopefully help to avoid any drama that might arise from the perception of your ex-gangers- and the key to securing work in the private security sector is to have people think your men are good fits for the job. Having people who can work as peacekeepers instead of occupation forces might be very useful.​



[] Meanwhile, for something completely different; we're going to have a scene from someone else's perspective in the hopes of exploring the setting a bit more and fleshing out some characterization. There are a few people you can have a scene with. Whose perspective do you want to watch from?
[] Immolator.
[] Shamus.
[] Laine.
[] Alfonso.
[] Vertex.​
 
Last edited:
Downzone 8: M&A
Downzone 8: M&A

"Nicholas Laine here." He starts, when you call him. "What do you need?"

"I'd like to ask you to work with us." You say. "Full-time, I mean."

"Yeah?" His voice is suspicious. "And why would I do that?"

"I think you know why. We need an investigation department and you're the best candidate I know of." You've learned enough of corporate management to know that most places run departments like this. It's always good to know about corporate raids or other maneuvers ahead of time. The less scrupulous companies-and there's a lot of them-use theirs as their dirty-tricks department too. Blackmail, extortion, and the occasional assassination. You don't plan on using that capacity.

"No, that's why you want me. I'm asking why I'd give up my business to work with you."

You think of the many ways you can appeal to him. Moral, ideological, pragmatic. All the tools you have to try to get him to agree with you. You finally decide on the one you judge is going to be most effective. "I can pay you a lot of money. And I know the make and model of your augmentations. I have a military cyberdoc who owes me favors. I can get you better prosthetics at a steep discount."

He's silent for a moment. You're afraid that it'll backfire, that he acts mercenary to cover up his heart of gold or whatever. "Fine. A steady job's better than what I have right now, anyhow."

***​

There's an army base a few hours' drive away which is running a "Military-Civilian Repatriation Program." It's fancy words for "selling military-grade gear to corporate security types in order to supplement the military budget. Nothing top of the line, of course. That kind of equipment tends to come from different channels. But you and Lima and a couple of trusted 'militia' members have brought a large truck to fill with the surplus they are selling.

It's going to be a damn sight better than whatever you can acquire around the street, and much cheaper as well. The average weapon on the street is some sort of 1940s-era chemical firearm. Cheap, easy to produce with regular machine tools. Made before superbrains started really making advancements to the art of killing people. Nothing like military-grade guns today, which are to those as they were to muskets. Not even as advanced as the rather mediocre second-line gear that gets given to National Guardsmen as they try to contain food riots or do 'peacekeeping' missions in unaligned countries where the three superpowers compete in trying to demonstrate their systems' superiority.

But you're not fighting for capitalism against the forces of cyber-communism or the Chinese Cooperative's weird ideas of 'unification.' You've done that for long enough that you're not interested in it anymore. And so has your friend here.

John Watts is another military-grade enhancile, but his enhancements are focused on memory and cognition. He's still capable of holding his own against any aug-but his real calling is running programs like this, targeting them to serve the interests of the government. He was a liaison to Lima Seven-Nine before, and you remember him from when you had to work with Centra Spike back in Panama-but now with all the chaos and gang warfare in the streets and the weakening domestic government he's been reassigned to use his COIN expertise on rooting out the gangs and other 'rogue elements.'

He's a bit resigned when you walk into his office. There's a few cables plugged into his neck-probably working on another computer simulation or whatever he does. "Major Espinosa. I assume you're not here for a social call."

You shake your head. "Can you not call me that?" You know quite well that your rank's inflated because you're an enhancile from rich parents. You weren't commanding more than small units at any point in time. "It's Ez, or Vector."

"All right. Ez. I know this isn't a social call. I suspect you're here for the government's contribution to domestic policing, although that's only because I do keep tabs on local conditions, including your brother becoming the celebrity of an hour in a very troubled section of the local megacity. So. Can we get down to business?" You're surprised at how burned-out he seems. When you last saw him years ago, he was enthusiastic about fighting the good fight. But seeing what you've seen tends to do that.

"I need weapons." You don't want to waste his time. "Better me than whoever else you're selling them to. I want to bring back the old days. Where you could rely on the cops to protect you if there wasn't money involved. Where you could walk around at night without being mugged. I want to bring some change to downzone."

"Will you?" He asks.

You nod, but you don't feel entirely confident.

"Good enough." He sighs. "What exactly do you need?"

You've got a list of the toys you need, and the toys your militia want. There's a couple of the ex-gang members who really want some heavy weapons to play with. You're not going to invest heavily in those, to their disappointment, but a handful of heavy weapons won't hurt. The majority of your list is fairly simple. Modern small arms-smartlinked, electromagnetic weapons with multiple fire modes. Nonlethals or hybrid lethal/nonlethal ones-electrostun guns, soporific gas shells for grenade launchers and shotguns, antipersonnel microwave weapons. Combat equipment-exoskeletons, self-healing carapace armor, sensors gear and field medic kits. And of course some toys in case another attack like that happens again. Portable anti-vehicle launchers and railguns. A couple of assault cannon. Things you'll train them on, but probably won't use much. You'll want to get some augs or enhanciles to be able to deploy them quickly, but that's something to consider later. And, of course, you have a few orders to make with regards to Laine. You have the surgical team to install the new prosthetics. Lighter, stronger, with a commensurate increase in quality of life. Part of your deal with him.

You quickly check the price of everything you're looking for. An easy 2 million for the gear. You'll be using up most of your remaining quarterly budget on it, but you can deal with that problem. Soon you'll be in better shape as some of these projects start to bear fruit. And this isn't something that you're going to want to risk being cheap on. If you were-you'd be talking to national guard units, not the Civil Defense adjuncts who work with corporate security, buying low-end gear maybe a bit better than what the gangs have. No, you want good, solid equipment.

You come to an arrangement with Watts fairly quickly-he'll have people work with Lima to train your militia reps in exoskeleton usage, in the heavy and complicated weapons they'll be carrying. These people will then train their people-the same way special forces did their jobs. It'll take a while, keeping you out of touch for that period. But it's, you think, worth it. It was in a million other conflict zones.

But it makes you wonder about all that proud chest-beating nationalism in your history books. When did the United States become 'just another conflict zone'?

***
Vertex

Some people consider it strange that my family lives Downzone. Father is a Reverend. He makes enough money from that alone to support a family their size Upzone, let alone the money people donate to the church. Why would he choose to live down here, when he could live a better life up there?

It's hard for people to understand when they're not of the faith. They look at the filthy streets and the masses of downtrodden civilians dressed in hand-me-downs and question, why would anyone ever want to live there? Why would you voluntarily immerse yourself in this?

Father would reply that it is his duty to live amongst the less fortunate, to spread the word of the faith, to make their lives better in incremental steps. He would say that it is the duty of the clergy to spread their wealth amongst the community, that it is the duty of the clergy to sacrifice all they hold for the betterment of others.

Someone more cynical might say that it's an empty gesture- that true change can't be affected by something as simple as offering food to the needy or paying for visits to corner-clinics. Someone more cynical might say that if he wanted to affect change, he would do better to work from the top down, to work to make food more widely available, or to provide employment that doesn't pose such hazards to its workers' wellbeing.

Somehow, I doubt saying that would go down well.

"Jennifer," my father barks. I look up indolently. He's dressed in his preacher's outfit; a crisp, sharp suit of mass-produced cotton, black vest over white buttoned shirt. He rests on his cane, favouring his right leg.

I rise slowly to my feet, dragging myself over to stand in front of him. His eyes are bloodshot, and his breath smells faintly of whiskey- the one indulgence he allows himself. Drinking is not a sin, as he is fond of reminding me; only drinking to excess.

His tie is crooked. I patiently straighten it as I wait for him to speak.

"I will be out tonight," he announces once I finish straightening it and step back. He looks briefly over to a mirror, mouth tightening in a frown as he takes in his appearance. From his pocket, he pulls out his glasses case and puts them on. It's hard to see his eyes through them. "The streets have been bloody recently, with these god-cursed gangs roaming everywhere. I expect you will stay inside tonight. It is not safe for a lady on the streets."

The only response I can make is a nod as I stare at his tie, afraid to look him in the eyes.

I have never been good at lying to my father.

"Excellent." He sounds satisfied. "I have prepared dinner; all you need to do is heat it in the oven for twenty minutes. Do you need me to arrange a ride to school tomorrow?"

"No," I murmur in reply. "I am sure Maria will take me. If she doesn't, I will call you."

"Excellent." It happens every time, but I'm still caught off-guard when he pulls me into a hug and ruffles my hair. I return it hesitantly. "I will see you tomorrow, Jennifer."

"And you, Father." I unwrap my arms from around him, trying to hide their nervous shaking as he straightens and begins heading to the front door. He hesitates as he reaches it, looking back to me for a moment as if to say something, before seeming to decide better of it and heading out the front door.

I let out a soft breath as the door clicks closed behind him. Saying goodbye is an uncomfortable ritual.

I wait fifteen minutes, filling the spare time by moving idly around the house and gently wiping dust off the already pristine picture frames hanging on the walls, before it is clear that he has not forgotten anything. I have made that mistake once, and had almost been caught.

When the time has passed, I make my way slowly to my bedroom.

There is a certain difference between Father and myself. He does not know it, and it does not inform his actions, but I know it, and it does inform my own.

Father believes that people are good by nature, and bad by circumstance.

I also believe that people are good by nature, and bad by circumstance. I agree with my father on that level. If I believed that people were not good, I would not do any of the things I do.

Father believes that by offering what assistance he can to people, that by opening his arms and inviting people to seek help, they will necessarily be drawn to him; and that in doing so, the world will become a better place, step by incremental step. Father believes that charity and acceptance will make a difference.

That is where Father and I differ. Father believes that people will seek help and improvement. He is a good person. I am not.

My room is clean and bare. A bed stands against the far wall, a small table beside it bearing a lamp and an alarm clock. A desk and chair sits to my left below a window, my science homework laying neatly on top awaiting my return, and a heavy wardrobe takes up what remaining space there is within my room. It is not an exciting room.

I move towards the wardrobe, lifting it just high enough that it no longer touches the floor, then shuffle backwards and place it down. People often think that being as strong as I am means I can lift everything with ease, but a lot of things are very awkwardly shaped. It is hard to move them.

Behind my wardrobe is a small hole in the wall, one I carved there well over a year ago, when all this first started. It is just large enough to hold a small duffel bag, which I pull out and toss on my bed. Lifting the wardrobe back takes only a few moments- it's much easier to move forwards with an object than it is to shuffle backwards.

From within my duffel bag, I pull out my costume, stash the duffel bag beneath my mattress and leave, crawling my way out the window.

***

Maintaining a secret identity is a lot harder than people online give it credit for. There are a lot of factors that can give you away; height, hair colour, eye colour, body shape, voice inflection, word choice, and those are just the things people can get from a short video clip of you in action.

If you have enough money, there are a lot of ways you can deal with that. Some people have implants that can change their appearance when they venture out. Others wear full-body outfits intended to conceal their appearance and make it harder to recognize them. A few don't even bother, either lacking family and friends to exploit or trusting in security to protect them for them.

I don't have to worry about protecting Father too much. He's a member of the Church, and a Reverend, at that. Anyone who would go after him deserves what would happen to them afterwards.

No, I'm not worried about concealing my identity from the masses. I just don't want Father to figure out who I am and what I'm doing.

Some people might be content with just hiding their physical appearance, but Father is far more perceptive than that. I dress myself up, concealing my body behind body armour, my hair beneath a cap, my face beneath a bandana, but there are a lot of other things that could give me away.

Which leaves me in my current situation; having to present two different personalities to the world. One shy, boring, and introspective; the other vivacious and spunky. Nobody would connect the boring and demure Jennifer Austin, daughter of a preacher, with the reckless Vertex, superpowered vigilante.

I let out a big sigh, casually stretching my arms as I begin to jog on the spot. Father wouldn't be home tonight, so I had more time than usual. Excellent. I needed to spend more time in the east, anyway- I'd been neglecting patrolling over there with homework picking up.

Stealthily moving from rooftop to rooftop, I listen to the conversations flowing on the streets beneath me. Most of them are boring and inane, simple conversations about their families, their friends, their jobs or lack thereof. Some of them are a bit more exciting- one man is whispering over the phone into the ear of his lover, another man is dealing drugs two blocks over, a woman is cackling over her humiliation of a coworker further down that street.

Not my problem. I don't handle petty crime- and even if I did, I wouldn't have the time or the energy to try and beat all the drug dealers in Summer Hill down. My hands are full just trying to keep all the violence in check.

This is how I spend most of my nights. It's not as exciting as one might expect. There isn't a constant rush of action and adrenaline; in fact, I'm lucky if I get two incidents in a night. There's a lot of patience, a lot of stalking around on rooftops, and a lot of listening in on people's private conversations involved. It might be easier if I could get my hands on a police radio, but then, that would require people to trust in the police enough to call them in whenever crimes were happening.

It's what I do best, though. Keep the violence contained, focus it all onto me, and beat down anyone who might try and spill it over onto the streets. Patrol at night, or occasionally during the day when I have a free period before or after lunch, and try to find situations like these before they can fester and become big issues.

It's the best thing I can do for this place. I'm not my father. I can't spend my time doing charity, feeding the hungry and sheltering the homeless. He has his faith, but I don't share it. As much as I wish it weren't so, I am my mother's daughter; a sinner, not a saint. A liar, a thief, a violent vigilante.

I'm the kind of person who would steal millions from my father's church's savings to pay for the augmentations to hunt down the people who abducted my mentor and threatened my family.

As I said before; there is a certain difference between my father and myself. He is a good person. I am not.



The area you're in now is relatively stable. Although there's the chance that that might fall through if the gangs make a sudden resurgence, you think you're set on that front for at least the next couple of weeks- and you've still got all your security assets in the region, anyway. It's time for you to look towards the future.

[] You can't stay in this area forever, as much as you have not-so-fond memories of it. If your business is going to expand, the area you cover is also going to need to expand. Moving blind is a bad idea, though, as you learned when you started this venture. You're going to assign Laine to looking into a region ahead of time so you know what you're getting into. Where are you going to be expanding into next?
[] Kingsman's. It's the least dangerous area to move into, and it's moderately prosperous, but it's also a bit of a powder keg. The possibility that moving into the region will set it off exists- especially when your own forces are as volatile as they are. It's the closest region to the Retros, a rapidly declining gang apparently led by an enhancile called White Skull.
[] Shutterbug's. Laine assures you that you shouldn't ask why it's named that. Regardless, it used to be a fairly artsy area, before Downzone started declining as hard as it has. Now, it's a hotbed of crime and corruption; augs have even been spotted in the area. It's a very dangerous area, even you can tell that, but there are plenty of assets ripe for subversion if you can wedge yourself in there.
[] Summer Hill. It's in a stable position at the moment, thanks to how run-down the area is and the relatively low presence of gangs thanks to the enhancile Vertex, but moving into the area is almost guaranteed to cause things to go south when you're inevitably followed. Nonetheless, the area is home to no less than two enhanciles, in the form of Vertex and Spook. It's the least profitable area in a monetary sense, however.

[] Your business is also going to need to grow in a more figurative sense if it's going to rise quickly enough to challenge Cydonia. You're doing your best on the ground, but there's only so much you can do here. Thankfully, Laine has offered his assistance here; he's going to spend some of his time looking into this for you, and hopefully securing you good deals so it doesn't cost as much as it otherwise would. [Pick one option, but the two most popular votes will win.]
[] You want your biotech department to grow. Laine will focus his research on picking up any talented biotech assets in the area that have flown under the radar so far, as well as useful patents and caches of resources that haven't been snapped up yet.
[] You want to establish a cybertech department. Laine will focus his research on picking up any surgical and implant assets which might be useful to start up an implant clinic, as well as useful patents, designs and caches of resources that are still available.
[] You want to focus on your security department. Laine will focus on providing arms and armour suppliers who sell at reasonable rates, as well as trainers and instructors who can help instruct your troops.
[] You want to establish a strike force to attack vulnerable assets in the reason. Laine will focus on providing arms suppliers who sell at low rates, as well as trainers who can help instruct your troops, and troops trained in this area who are willing to work without demanding too much in the form of payments.
[] You want your cyber-security division to grow. Laine will focus on recruiting people to help Shamus to run his division, as well as "obtaining" various programs used for similar things Shamus can adapt or tear apart for his own uses.
[] You want to establish a robotics department. Laine will focus his research on picking up any robotic engineers in the area, any broken robotics, and any caches of resources you can use for your own uses.

[] It's been a few weeks since Copperfield was burned out, and nobody's snapped it up. You're reasonably sure that you can buy the building out, albeit it'll cost a fair amount, and begin producing technically legal fruits and vegetables you can use as a cover to produce less-than-legal variants of the same. It might take some time to recoup a profit if you don't seek methods on the ground to make this venture worthwhile, however.
[] Yes; go for it.
[] No, it's not worth it.
 
About Government and Food
@Tempera, @MJ12 Commando, would the Grocers actually have sufficient resources available to make the above at all viable? I wouldn't think they'd have to front all the purchase price, just enough to allow us to scrape up the deposit for a mortgage on Copperfield between us.

The Grocers are not particularly flush with resources. They tend to make their money by selling black-market foods underprice because they don't have to pay all the licensing fees and deal with all the government regulations which exist to favor large agricorps and keep prices high.

I do kind of want to explain how food works in Cowls so this is actually a decent-ish infopost. Basically, the government is overworked, overstressed, pulled every which way, and don't care about things besides Big Federal Crimes (treason, espionage, people fucking with important pillars of the economy). They really find it hard to interfere with corporate actions because there's enough competing corporate influence in the government to make it more like the UN Security Council than the modern US government. But when it gets mad about things which the corps can agree on, like IP infringement (all the megacorps have healthy numbers of trade secrets and R&D going on) they tend to have some real force. Of course, as the update shows-they're also dealing with the fact that they're strained fighting a lot of overseas wars as 'advisors' and there's probably a pretty unpopular draft going on or something, so they often will leave law enforcement and the like to private corporations.

Anyways, you might be asking 'how does this matter' and the answer is 'because it explains how food works.' Basically, there is probably a government program of some sort to give everyone food to keep people from actually starving. Because the government is shaky, the corporations and rich are eating up all the economic growth, and thus the poor can't get anything better (and when they try, they tend to get shot and beaten) it's blocks of like, nutrient-enriched soy which is cheaply made by contract. So starvation, in fact, is not a problem. This creates the issue that 'real' foods have gotten much more expensive to compensate, because people want them and no longer need them. So Copperfield would have been basically providing the stuff that allows people to get through the day without hating themselves. Some way of making their soy-bricks moderately more delicious (competing with, of course, artificial flavorings, which are cheaper but sometimes you want a real tomato you know?)

So people who want to afford an orange, but can't pay the like, 10 bucks for a corporate one with the proper licenses and all, go to the Grocers, who have their own black market grow-ops and sell them for like, 5 bucks. Occasionally, corporations which deal in legal agriculture get mad at these black market grow-ops and hire Sharp Edge or Murklake or another PMC to send some guys with flamethrowers to burn them to the ground when they get too big. This keeps black market prices up because it means they can't easily get the economies of scale they'd want. If they somehow could, you could probably make soy food less important by driving prices very far down (gene-boosted crops in Cowls are very good at growing), which would piss off some very big companies on the case.
 
Downzone 9: Picket Duty
Downzone 9: Picket Duty

It takes Laine less than two weeks to return with a report on Shutterbug.

"Comprehensive stuff's in the report," he says stiffly when he hands it off to you, standing uncomfortably in the boardroom. "Lot of stuff to cover. Good decision to hand trainees off to me. Not all were effective, but got the job done anyway."

"Excellent," you reply, taking the report and opening it. "Would you mind giving us a general impression of the area while you're here, prior to going through the report in greater detail?"

He gives you a sharp nod.

"Shutterbug is not a good area. Gangs rule the area. Even private law enforcement is out. Suspect some corporations behind it, want an area without supervision, no oversight or ethical committees interfering. Downtrodden. Few jobs available, mostly sweatshops, hard labour, government-sponsored cleanup crews."

You quickly skim the report as he talks, taking in the information in it. The things he's saying match what he put in the report, unsurprisingly.

From the information he's put on you, Shutterbug seems to be almost as bad as some of the places you'd visited while you were still in the military. The only law enforcement in the area didn't even deserve the name; Laine noted that most of them probably wouldn't raise a fuss even if you were to rob a bank right in front of them, unless you manage to personally inconvenience one of them.

Violence in the streets is a lot worse than it is here. There are a few reasons for that, you suspect. Laine has noted that economic influence is a part of it; with so few well-paying jobs going, and there not being enough jobs to go around in any case, civil unrest has been growing steadily worse for decades.

Ordinarily that wouldn't be too bad, but aug-related crime has become ever more prevalent over the years as low-end augs have become increasingly more available. The Brigade used to patrol Shutterbug semi-regularly, keeping much of the violence contained for fear that the group would fall on anyone who let it spill into the streets. That's not viable any more, though- now they're kept busy responding to reports of aug and enhancile-related violence all across the prefecture. They don't have the time to respond to this, and the gangs in the area know it.

With that, however, necessarily comes opportunity. Corporations that operate there to avoid oversight necessarily won't make too much of a fuss when their facilities get hit, for fear of drawing unwanted attention. There are so few jobs that you're pretty sure you could get a lot of labour for far lower than you'd pay elsewhere, too- although a large part of you hesitates at the thought of it.



You open the progress report in front of you, a thick binder full of densely-packed text. There's enough information in it to make reading through it a day's work, but you know from experience that sometimes you just have to do this kind of boring scut work. Which doesn't mean you like it-but it means you have to do it.

Your cyberneticists are still bored out of their minds, as usual. Sending them outside to help other facilities has been useful at keeping them occupied, but hasn't been particularly profitable. However, Laine has reported on some good deals-myomer implantation devices, some computer workstations-things you can get them started on. It won't be good for much-low-end augs like that are fairly common nowadays-but it'll at least be something. It'll keep the surgeons busy and let the techs start work on developing new ones. If you can seize more black market cyberclinics, you might be able to get the department fully operational soon.

Expanding your biotech department will likely benefit them as well. Modern enhanciles may be related to the early serum ones, but that's largely via history rather than technology. You need cybernetics, and advanced ones, to make them work. Right now, you have some of their own discretionary budget set up towards acquiring better computers and tools to make better biomods. The enhancile you bought, "Chemist"-has been very useful for that. He's not particularly bright, but he can make the chemical precursors your biotech staff need for basic augments.

In concert, it might be possible to create low-end enhanciles with slight upgrades. You know that some of the gangs seem to have access to illegal enhancile clinics-so one of the corps is probably supplying those boosts in exchange for money or favors. You suspect that they'd have to put something like that in Shutterbug-people would have noticed if it was somewhere else. People like the ones in your employ.

IT has been getting along with your new investigation department quite well-having access to a technopath's services in the form of Shamus has been a godsend for Laine and his research efficiency. If you had known, you might have considered hiring him sooner. Your 'field' investigators are still a tiny group-Laine worked solo and a lot of former police detectives went corporate rather than work with your splinter group, but you have confidence that you might have a small team when you go into Shutterbug.

And finally, your militia are doing well. Their training won't be done for another month or so-but they're quite enthusiastic about the weapons they're going to be working with. Even telling them that they're not allowed to use them outside of high-risk situations hasn't dampened their spirits much. Blowing targets apart with a hypervelocity rifle is still incredibly exhilarating when you're used to cheap chemical rifles. You might even consider finding some of them and giving them basic augs- By the time you're ready to move into Shutterbug, you'll have a security force ready to take on those challenges-armed, armored, and ready to face down augs.

The only question is whether they're going to be auged themselves. Working with Lima and you has given a lot of them fresh appreciation for just what modern science can do, and there's a very long line of people clamoring to become some kind of supersoldier. Not a decision most people should take lightly-but it's one they seem to be dead-set on.



One day, your phone rings at 3 AM. You answer it, voice still groggy. "Ez here. What's the situation?"

Laine's voice is distorted over the line. He must be underground, or in a tunnel, or even just in a large building. These newfangled wireless connections had problems like that, going staticky at a moment's notice whenever there was so much as too much smoke in the air above you.

"Think I've got a break in the missing persons case," he says. That's enough to jolt you to attention, causing you to scramble out of your bed with a muttered oath.

"Alright," you say blearily. "Hold on a minute, I'm going to need some coffee before we go any further."

Your percolator is bubbling away in your kitchen. You've made a habit of leaving it on overnight whenever you're actually at your apartment. Coffee is a much more pleasant way to start the day than activating your adrenals- your augmentations are perfectly capable of waking you up at a moment's notice, but the inevitable adrenaline crash when the hormones die down sucks.

Moments later, you're done, and mentally cursing that you forgot to pick up milk on your way home yesterday. "Alright," you say, moving to the flatpack coffee table you'd set up a few weeks back and kneeling beside it. It did double duty as a dining table, now it could do triple duty as a work desk, too. "What do you have?"

"Working in Shutterbug," he reports. "Trying to establish patterns, determining territories, membership, so on. Been noticing disappearances here."

"There are disappearances in Shutterbug, too?" You frown, idly drumming your fingers on the tabletop. "No, never mind, that does make sense. Okay. Do you have any leads on who's doing it?"

"No targets yet. Been watching, though. Most likely corporations. Offer jobs, money, trick them into coming in, never seen again. Fits established pattern."

"Yeah." You let out a frustrated sigh. "Alright. Thanks for telling me, Nicholas."

"No issue. Want me to continue investigating?"

You nod, even though he can't see it. "Yes, definitely. You're doing a good job, Nick. Thank you."

The line goes abruptly dead, and you hang your head with another loud sigh. The coffee is already coursing its way through your system; there's no way you'll be able to get back to sleep now.

Another early start it is.



With the next quarter rolling around, Alfonso has allocated your security department nearly $10 million. This brings your total operating budget up to $14.5m for the next quarter- assuming you don't "find" yourself some more.

You're planning on making a push into Shutterbug, which means that you're going to be stretched too thin if you're trying to operate from your current office. If you want to be at all effective there, you're going to need to buy yourself an office to work from.

[ ] You have a lot of things you need to purchase, and very little money to purchase them with. You're going to have to go for the cheapest- and least effective- option, and purchase a shady office in Shutterbug's slum district. Nicholas reports that the building at least isn't as small as it seems- there are two underground bunkers, as well as the office space up top and the two attached wings. You could probably perform clandestine research and development here. $2.5m
[ ] You have a lot of things you need to purchase, but you can't skimp out on your headquarters. You're going to purchase a large office in what counts as the affluent area of Shutterbug. It won't come with much equipment beyond the basics, but the office at least has five attached wings, enough space for a proper administration department, and the real estate worker who showed you around has promised to throw in a free desk fan. What more could you want? $5m
[ ] Large office spaces are all well and good, but you're expecting trouble- and a lot of it. You're going to spare no expense, and hire builders and purchase land to build yourself a proper security office, complete with reinforced titanium walls and a skeleton staff of cheap robots to patrol its halls. Sure, it only comes with three wings, but you'd like to see anyone try and attack you here. $7m

You have been upgrading your biotech department and started working on your cybertech department. This has enabled you to start doing basic augmentation surgery. If you want to augment some militia to create elite units, you can start doing so. This will obviously cost money, which will be taken out of your next quarterly budget. Your elite units will have, if any...
[ ] Muscle and bone hyperdensity (+1 Tactical)
[ ] Cognitive Augmentation for Socialization and Interrogation Enhancement (+1 Negotiation)
[ ] Kinesthetic and sensory boosts (+1 Security)
[ ] Implanted computer interface systems (+1 Technical)
[ ] We don't have the money to make another aug team at this point.

Between your biotech department and your cybertech department, you have enough staff that you can afford to pull a small handful of them away to work on a special project. It'll be expensive to run one, and you probably won't be able to pull them away after the next fortnight without impacting your R&D department, so you're going to have to decide what you want to do now. You decide on…
[ ] You had a contract with Nicholas Laine, specifying that you'd build him augmentations in exchange for a lowering of the cost of his salary. You need to fulfil that. You could probably put it off, though, at least for the moment. $.5m
[ ] Immolator has the fantastic ability to control plasma, which he is able to leverage into limited flight capabilities, but beyond that his augmentations are just the norm for enhanciles. You want to change that, building specialized augmentations to boost his physical capabilities. $2m, grants Immolator [Physical Boost]-1.
[ ] Chemist has the extraordinary ability to produce various liquid chemicals from his body, but that is currently the extent of his augmentations- beyond the norm for enhanciles, of course. Given how integral he is to your biotech team at present, you want to change that, building specialized augmentations to boost his memory and thinking speeds. $2.5m, grants Chemist [Mental Boost]-1.
[ ] Your security team is currently lacking much in the way of enhancile support- there's just you and Immolator. And as last quarter proved, you're stretched thin when things go wrong. You need more enhanciles to swing things properly in your favour, but you can't rely on recruits conveniently popping up all the time. No; you're going to have to make one. And you have the perfect recruit in mind; Karena Valli, the most mercenary of the gang members you'd selected to lead the militia alongside your other officers. Hopefully, you'd solve two birds with one stone here; buy her loyalty, and bolster your security division. $5m, makes Karen Valli an enhancile.
[ ] Your security team is currently lacking much in the way of enhancile support- there's just you and Immolator. And as last quarter proved, you're stretched thin when things go wrong. You need more enhanciles to swing things properly in your favour, but you can't rely on recruits conveniently popping up all the time. No; you're going to have to make one. And you have the perfect recruit in mind; Naomi Cooper, the most charismatic of the gang members you'd selected to lead the militia alongside your other officers. $5m, makes Naomi Cooper an enhancile.
[ ] Your team members are fine for the moment. You have a rather different project in mind, actually. Plasmius gave you a lot of trouble when you fought him, but he's not the worst of them- and there are a lot of other enhanciles nearly as tough as him, anyway. If you're going to be going up against proper enhanciles in the future, you're going to need weapons- weapons capable of piercing through even an enhancile. You probably won't get them made, but you can at least get the designs started. $1.5m
 
On Enhanciles
Anyways, since you guys have the option of making some low-level enhanciles, I'll probably have to talk about that for a little bit.

The formal point of divergence in Cowls, which as you might have guessed is an alternate history by now, was that in WW2 the Axis powers discovered what's basically a combination of ADAM and Super Soldier Serum, which they called "Giant's Blood" (Naaaazis). They initially used it for its most basic effects-making a man several times stronger and tougher, with superhuman reflexes and fast healing and improved senses. This created some immediate changes-notably the Axis did quite a lot better given a lot of Captain Fascisms until they got rolled by industrial superiority and the Allies' early attempts at making their own supersoldiers. The Axis were still in the lead in supersoldier technology until they were all rolled in late 1946, at which point they had started to experiment with the mutagenic effects of Giants' Blood which weren't "you look like Chris Evans." This technology was handed over to all the allies in the peace treaty. At this point, they weren't called 'enhanciles' but just 'super-soldiers.' These early supersoldier projects were rather fraught with flaws compared to modern enhanciles. Maybe one in a thousand would respond well to the treatment, and of that subset a noticeable percentage would end up eccentric or literally insane. Similarly, they tended to have either just superhuman ability or very basic, animal-style superpowers. Maybe they healed much faster than they should, or they grew retractable claws, or their skin turned into armored plates. None of this 'teleporting around while breaking people's faces' stuff.

When the science of enhanciles became a formal thing, the merely superhuman ones got folded into Generation 1, and the guys with weird biohorror superpowers got turned into Generation 2. This lasted for a decade or two, where the science was mostly in making it easier to treat someone in this fashion and also making it cheaper to produce this magic superman juice. In the present day of 1996 in Cowls, most black-market enhancile clinics will provide these services at a price that's... reasonably affordable and most people are Gen 1/2 compatible. Not for your average street criminal or whatever, but certainly a high-end shadowrunner or corporate spy can get this sort of stuff.

Now, another one of the advantages of Giant's Blood is, well, that treated the right way it lets you do really cool stuff with nerves and machines. Like, integrating the nervous system directly into machine interfaces. Or using the super-healing properties of the stuff to let you cut someone open, plate all their bones with metal, and sew them back up. This was when the first formal 'enhancile' name came into play-the earliest true 'enhanciles' were basically guys with supertech cybernetics which were seamlessly grafted to their minds and bodies by the process (remember, Supersoldier Serum + ADAM). These were the Gen 3s. Gen 4s and 5s are similar-they combine supertech cybernetics and the same mutagens-but they have much more advanced technology which allows them more esoteric powers. Gen 3s were pretty straightforward, with stuff like flight, laser eyes, machine-gun arms, bulletproof pecs, super-strength... Gen 4s and 5s are not. Gen 3s are probably the limit as to what you're getting in a black market enhancile clinic rather than a corporate or military facility. And even then it's hard-the really powerful Gen 3s are reliant on some fairly hefty cyberware that isn't cheaply or easily produced.

The baseline for all enhanciles still includes Giant's Blood. It's what lets their nervous system adapt to managing all the complex technology inside them without any problems-and it means that even someone like Shamus, who is a weak nerd of an enhancile, can take a couple of bullets and probably rip a phone book in half. It's just that for him, the point of the Giant's Blood is not to make him stronger-that's just a happy side effect-but so his brain can seamlessly interface with all the electronic warfare equipment that now replaces his bones, and the remainder of his bone marrow can produce enough blood cells that he doesn't drop dead of anemia because most of his bones are made of computers, and his more efficient muscles and organs produce less heat and can survive it better so he doesn't drop dead of heatstroke when running his hardware. As you get into Gen 4s and 5s things get much more expensive, and the powers get weirder than "I have an electronic warfare suite, my bones are supercomputers, and a wireless modem is in my head."

The GODLIKEs are the epitome of that-they're technically Gen 5 but they're even more radically restructured, and in their case the Giant's Blood infusion isn't really the core framework for their augmentations anymore-they're much more exotic. In their case, they're hooked up to tanks of the good stuff while they're literally being assembled, because they need it to keep their sanity and the physical health of their remaining meat-bits while they're agonizingly torn apart and rebuilt from the ground up. They are conscious through the entire process-it's the only way to calibrate the enhancements they get. Keep that in mind when you meet the setting's equivalent of Superman.

Anyways, in the present day, Gen 3s and 4s are the most common enhanciles, and the guys with weird Gen 5 superpowers are pretty valuable. Immolator and Shamus are both Gen 4s, while you and Darius are Gen 5s. Your current biotech and cybertech departments working together can piece together a Gen 1-3 enhancile or two from scratch although it's going to tax your facilities. This is largely because you have the advantage of almost 60 years of technological advance-modern enhancile surgery and pharmaceutical augmentation uses a lot of secondary and tertiary chemicals and implants to make compatibility easier, to increase the effects, to stave off side effects, etc etc. This is why you can probably enhance just about anyone you need, although it might cost more or less depending on their compatibility, and why you can make enhanciles at all-yours will be decades out of date, but they're still decades-out-of-date military hardware.
 
Last edited:
Back
Top