Chapter 1 SNAFU - Situation Normal All Fragged Up

The drone attempts to throw up an armored shield to block Wyvern's savage attack but Wyvern smashes through the steel rendered pixels. The drone icons begin to flash dangerously with the damage.

A pixelly red text warning begins flashing "Warning! Warning! Illegal matrix actions will be prosecuted to the fullest according to corporate and state jurisprudence!"

Rig the rigger slams on the breaks and the Knight Errant police car whizzes past. He then takes a hard right down a small alleyway. His GridGuide seems to lose signal as he takes you all down some small lanes off the map. He then drives over the curb and through a chain link fence taking the team into the Barrens. The drone pulls back from the damage blaring warnings until out of sight.
Rig drives for another 15 minutes and it seems Errant has been lost. He drives until he reaches the chinese and taco joint. "I'm starvin' so I made an executive decision."

He jumps out of the bullet ridden van and heads into the run down restuarant. The smell of szechuan tacos fills the air.

The restaurant is long and thin with bright orange plastic seats. Much of the linoleum is ripped up and a musty scent mixes with the Chinese Mexican food smells.

From the back you can hear what sounds like a loud crowd excited about something.

As you sit down for tacos a short but squat lady comes over chewing gum and smacking her lips. ""What you want to order? We are all out of everything but soychick tacos and nuke salsa or General Pow Pow's soyapork rice blitz." Her head turns as some yells of excitement erupt from the back. She doesn't even wait to hear your order as she runs to the back. "Did the demon rat win?!"

Just then the door to the back of the taco shack bursts open, and a tall gaunt ork looking like he's ready for a night at the goth club walks in. He grumbles something about about a fracking demon rat, and quickly takes a seat at the counter, he's obviously hungry and ready to order. He raps his knuckles on the counter and hollers across the restaurant... "HEY! Dollface! Can ya get me summa that General Pow Pow's?"

The waitress scoffs, and shakes her head, begrudgingly muttering "Whatever you want, your highness..."

The Ork smiles a big tusky grin, and takes a hit from a flask as a couple more sleazy patrons enter from the back. One of them stops next to the Ork and starts talking to him. "So how bout that Demon rat Hugi, hunh?" He laugh's uncontrollably and appears obviously drunk.

Huginn hands him the flask, saying "Yeah, yeah, yeah - Shut down, Deekz. How drunk you gonna get tonight anyways? Dont yak up in the Taco Shack, that'll getcha on the blacklist for sure." He playfully smacked the dwarf in the arm and snatched his flask back.

"Look Huginn... I like ya chumm - you're smart, and you always do good business, but... But word on the street..." The dwarf began to talk, but the ork didn't let him finish before running him over...

"I know Deekz, trust me I know what their sayin'... Look, those booster rats are dorphed outta their minds. Truth is, this juiced up Trog came at me in the middle of the day, and I just froze up Deekz, I was ready to meet my maker. He made it halfway across the street then that bus came outta nowhere. But if you think for one minute that I could make that kinda shit happen with my head, then why would i find myself down here in this slumpit with all you greazy gonks; when I could be off dusting boosted out bangers and petty crooks - like YOU - for enough swag to drop a stack bigger then them scrapers out there, smoothie? Truth is, this nutjob was so geeked out his gourd, and the cyberdoc prolly got his wires crossed in the first place. Whack job walked right into the Number Seven. I'm just glad that bus was on time, or maybe your good buddy wouldn't be here to get smashfaced with ya and loose all his money making dumbass bets with ya all night, eh? "

At this, the dwarf smiled - "Buddy, eh there Hugi? ...Don't know about all that - but look, you keep bringing me goods, and I'll keep buying em, baby. Your not like these other dregs round here... you always bring good stuff, so keep it up, and maybe you will be my bud - one day.... Stay in touch, Hugi!" With that, the dwarf left - and in the same moment Huginn's bowl of General Pow Pow's showed up. The orc quickly turned his attention to the steamy bowl of food, scarfing it down in a few brief moments.

Huginn snarfs up the last bite of food, then suddenly looks up, noticing the pair sitting in the corner for the first time. He raises a finger to point at the odd couple, and says "Hey wait a seccond, I know you two... your that cyberchick... ah... what was your name... Dragon? Yeah! Dragon. And the old dude. What's up old dude, how you chums doing? Hell.." his tone hushes down a bit and he darts his eyes quickly to see who is still in the shack... "You chummer's wouldn't happen to know about any good runs coming up anytime soon, would ya? I just lost all my pocket cash on this stupid bet I made with my scumbag friend... goddamn demon rat... anyways, I'm down and out - but you two know me, I'm good for it! Just looking for a piece before my girl gets back from Rapid City. She hates it when she comes back flush and the best I can do is pluck the lint out my pockets, ya know what I mean?" The Ork looks pleadingly at the pair, hoping they can help...

Nail seems to ruminate on Wyvern's option to split the group. He pulls an arrow from his quiver and begins spinning it on the table.
He looks up at the ork. He acknowledges the ork by holding up his hand as if to say "just a minute."

"As Wyvern says it would be easier to hide if we split into smaller groups. How about some of us take the van to throw any followers off the scent of the box?" He grabs Merkz' shoulder. "And the dwarf can come with me. We'll meet you all tomorrow at the Johnson's meet up point." He then puts his hand down and heads out the door. Rig lifts his head up, "What about my tacos?! I'm fraggin' starving!" Rig then shoves Merkz. "Come on, let's go."

Huginn cock's his head sideways - "That's not low-key... that's just racist. Every dreg in this bar will understand you chum, maybe you don't come down here much, but this is where I live - perhaps you need some street smarts more than you need a gun. If you wanna be discreet - Sioux is my native tongue..." He looks around the shop, nervously - "Look if you guys are trying to lay low, like I said, I live right around the corner. I should go home and gear up anyways. It's not much for amenities, but it's a secure location, and it's almost impossible to find. Lonestar doesn't even exists out there - just gotta worry about boostergangs... But look - I ain't offering outta the kindness of my heart - If I take you to my private lair, i'm gonna expect a cut."

Huginn smiles at that. "Smart move, Dragon - you won't regret it. Thing about the Barrens is, you don't wanna look like a tourist, you get what I mean? You come down here looking like Mr. Johnson with an uptown girl - you're bound to raise eyebrows." He takes a long look at Greer... "Only time suits come down here is when they're slummin' it with the geese - I'd suggest you loosen up, untuck that shirt - and give your Jacket to good 'ole Dragon over here... that way she looks like just another goose, following the ork dealer to get a fix ... get my drift?" He pauses for a second, taking a slow hard sip from his flask. "Anyways... whatever we do, we better do it soon - Chopstick King ain't exactly laying low around here... "