Running the Shadows

Transmission 672A [secure line encoded]

Well, good buddy, the horseshoe up my ass is still doing its trick. The core dump wasn’t necessary in the end. Then again, there wasn’t much useful data in the end. And with all the fighting, I glitched major time. S-K has my commlink when they captured me, so they may have done something. So what I had in my commlink was fractaled. Burficated into nodes. Only Mandelbrot could put the nodes back together.

Just wanted to send a quick note. Have more to say in a bit. But right now, need some sleep and pulled three jacks out of the deck. Talk to you soon.

Gideon (Raven)

Posted by Loekie at 7:42 AM | Permalink | Comments

Time to regroup. Focus on what has happened over the past little while.

First things first. Leech send me an encoded transmission to help me out. The salient points were:

• Leech did some digging yet did not find on the rig was protected but purged. It looked like the whole nest was purged. This is unusual and uncommon. Normally, execs want to keep some sort of record to things to use to cover their ass when in trouble. Even if it to use against someone else.
• The original name of the oil platform was Chevron Omega. It was funded by Vander Oil, a subsidiary of Macrotech AA.
• It was built approx. 11 years ago, outfitted with state-of-the-art drilling and core sampling tech.
• Approx. 6 years ago, an undisclosed event caused the shutdown of the rig.
• The rig was on the inactive list for a short time. After that, it became a base of operation for some kind of marine research. No data available on who funded the research.
• Chevron Alpha is the name of Macrotech’s third largest comsat orbiting Earth. But have no idea on Beta, etc. up to Omega.
• Macrotech’s two favourite outsources for black op and off-the-record activity are Black Hornet or Steele & Hawthorne.
• Basic data on BH is they are a bunch of cybered cold psychos, who think they have Viking or something like that heritage.
• Basic data on S&H is they are well-financed but possibly can be bribed or bluffed. But not push-overs.

Now comes the tough job, sorting and remembering everything. So much has happened and it is jumbled. I’m afraid I am going to forget salient points or mix up things that happened. All I can do is my best.

As I mentioned in the previous entry, on route to Key West, we were informed that for all intents and purposes, we are off the radar. We are considered experimental to the PTB. They are waiting and watching to see how we do before avowing any knowledge of us.

And they are willing to give us limited credits and crap equipment. For all intents and purposes, we are on our own. But as a consolation prize, we have been told that we have a standing order called the Nasty Boy Initiative, which means we can confiscate whatever we find. But if they aren’t avowing knowledge of us, what use is this initiative? Have to look into using some of the money I have squirreled away to seed this venture.

I told the team about what I had learnt. Helmut was dismissive of what I brought up. He considered BH as a bunch of pussies. He did bring up a point that they often fight as individuals not as a group.

I brought up my idea about going in as a group taking over the rig under the orders of Ares. Nikita brought up the idea of just going in as a supply ship.

As we discussed this, Helmut was increasingly dismissive of what I had to say. He was starting to piss me off. At one point he called me a pencil pusher. And I can’t believe it but I lost my temper. Me!

Maybe it is because he is a grunt with only two neurons rubbed together that he would look down on me like that. But fuck it, I was trying to contribute to the group. Help out the best I can. Fine, I can’t fire a fucking gun and run around like Ripley but it didn’t give him the right to put me down in front of the group. You don’t do that in a group, in a team. After that, I don’t give a fuck about Helmut. If he falls off the side of the rig once we have secured it, fine. Right now, he has but one use. Help clear out the place and then he usefulness is moot.

Anyway, the best battle plan seemed to be go in as a supply ship. So I asked for stuff we could carry so we would look the part. We were able to get 3 crates of food stuff and water (about 2 months worth of supplies) and a crate of machinery parts. And we had uniforms from Clamp (??) Industries who have supplied the rig before. So we look the part.

We had some down time and I fell asleep. I had a fucked up dream with a Jack Russell terrier and a library with books which I recognize but haven’t been in before. I wish I could remember details but with all that has happened is zapping my brain, it has become a faint memory.

As we headed off to the platform in a big copter, the weather turned bad. A storm is coming in. Nikita piloted the captor best he could but I got sick a couple of times. The approach was rough.

An automated system hailed us as we approached. At first it gave us permission to land but then it started to fragment, announcing an intruder alert. On the platform, the main turrets for stuff like SAMs were initiated. Oh fuck! But nothing happened.

Along side the rig, there was a boat moored against one of the pylons. Looked like a supply ship. With, from what I gather, a hole in the side. And it was sinking.

The landing was a mother-fucker. Once we hit the deck, security clamps secured the copter to the rig. But now we can’t take off until we get the clamps loose.

We deployed (I assume that is the right word). The deck was empty. From what we could see the turrets that were moving about were empty. All armaments used. So there had been something they already attacked. The ship?

Headed for a control room. I ‘jacked in to try to interface into the main systems. The system was completely frazzled and uncoordinated. But I found we were in serious trouble.

The boat going down was clamped to a pylon. It was going down and dragging on the pylon. If the ship wasn’t released, it would tear apart the pylon and the rig would go down. Not good for us.

We had to manually release the ship. As Fubar and Helmut headed off to find the manual, I tried to use one of the cranes to snag the ship and stabilize it.

I know, I know, not one of the most brilliant ideas I’ve ever had. Never operated a crane before in my life and here I am using heavy machinery to stabilize a boat in raging seas. At least I tried something.

At the same time, I found out an emergency system was sent out 48 hours ago from H&S. Basically it said:

Do not approach. Initiate plan B.

I was able to determine that the drills have not been used recently. But most of the available data was encrypted. And not just any kind of encryption. High end stuff. Mil-spec. Before I left Ares, I had heard vague things about this. Not something H&S, a mere merc group would use, let alone a AA corp.

But I did find a personal file. It listed the original Vander Oil crew. VO had original a complement of 17 engineers, 12 operators and 4 command crew (31). One had died before the crew was recalled and sent home. There was major dust on this file. At the time, I did not see the importance of this file. Thank God I downloaded it into my archives.

Helmut & Fubar released the boat which then prompted started to sink. But could get no details on the boat. And it looks like no survivors.

On the top deck, Anton and Fubar found a dead body locked in another control room. Locked from the inside. When they opened the hatch it was half in, the body fell away.

So we moved into the rig. On the first level, we have to split up. The level was marked as crew quarters.

Fubar, Nikita and Anton went to the right and Helmut and I went to the left. I did not want to go with Helmut but held my tongue. I suppose of all the people in the group, I suspect he is the best, for now, to keep me alive. Maybe he might see I am not just a pencil pusher.

Before we moved ahead, I made sure the gun I was given was in my pocket. It is a Ferchetti (sic). I have 30 rounds and it is semi-automatic. But as we moved down the hallway, I saw a fire axe. I took it. I think I can use that more effectively than a gun.

On our side, the first room was locked. The second room had what looked like blueprints. I put them into a tube and stored it.

On the other side, Fubar “triggered” a personal mine. As they went into a room, he tripped a wire. But Nikita had no problem disarming it. But why was there a mine in a crew’s quarter? The suggestion was that it was for us. I didn’t think so.

Another room, on Nikita’s side was fucked up. It looks like a mine went off in it. Taking out whoever had been in there. He also did find some blueprints of the rig.

Helmut and I went into the crew kitchen and found a mess. And most of the knives are missing. Then, suddenly, from one of the lockers a figure rushed out. It checked into Helmut and almost knocked him over. But the figure looked human and was only around 5’ 4”. It seemed to have more mass than the shape suggested. Helmut just let loose, shredding the door. Which alerted the rest of the group.

I checked the locker the figure was in but found nothing but a stench.

It was then I definitely put Helmut into the expendable column. He wanted to go down and blow away the person who had rushed out from the locker. What the fuck? He had not made any overt attack on us. Most like he was fucking scared. We just don’t go around blowing away people with gay abandon. But the team dismissed what I was suggesting. In hindsight, they were right and I was wrong. But I don’t like this shoot first and ask questions later. That is not the way to operate!

The next level was equipment and storage. Renovations had started on this level. Thing is the renovations are not for drilling. The walls are of some sort of polymer. Looks mil. A bit like those TV shows from the end of the 20th century. Showing us in space and life is wonderful.

Here the sequence is a little gets a little mixed up. I don’t know what came first the drone or the attack. Anyway, the attack.

Nikita and I were investigating an open area, me specifically so I could find a place to hard-link. The net is down around us so I need to hard-link. We turned to see a crouched figure with glowing red eyes. It let out a hiss and Nikita fired at it. No damage.

For me, I just stood there with the axe. I can’t explain what happened. For that split second, I felt like two people. Even though part of my brain said to do something, my muscles were frozen. Christ, maybe I am just a pencil pusher.

Fubar, Anton and Helmut came around, as the thing came toward us. Fubar was able to blow the thing’s shoulder but it kept coming. Anton fired his tazer but something went wrong and hit Nikita in the chest.

The thing then turned on Anton and attacked him. It swung and dug what looked like claws into his face. Helmut then blew its head off.

Now things get fucked up. I felt like that old television show Leech recommended: The Twilight Zone. He knew I would get a kick from the surprise endings and general weirdness. Like the one with that giant woman who doesn’t speak the whole show and the “aliens”. Stop it! Focus, focus.

The thing was human. He was wearing mechanics overalls. Vander Oil overalls! Even though he looked human, something was wrong. He looked irradiated. And he didn’t have claws. They were the bones of his fingers. He wasn’t really human anymore.

Thing is Fubar had to focus on Anton because he started to have a reaction. From some sort of toxin. Nikita and I focused on the body. The name tag was George Samuels (VO match). Nikita found on the guy’s leg what looked like a fucked up “star fish”.

It was a pulsating, gelantaneous blob. Three legs, not the standard number. One of the “legs” started to peel off. Makes sense. The body it was attached to is now dead. The host is useless.
Quickly it came off. It’s under side had 3 “feelers” which looks like how it stayed attached to Samuels. The “thing” was still alive.

Fubar was able to help Anton, so it looks like he is fine so he focused on the “thing”.
Because of some comments, Fubar decided to put some salt on the “thing”. It started to screech and in time, it stopped moving. So it looks like we may have something against it. That is, if we get to the leg. There was a flush of excitement but it most likely isn’t going to stop the people they are attached to. We still have to blow them away.

Then there was the repair drone. The centre of the deck had a sliding steel hatch for lowering stuff down. We found a functional submersible repair drone and some disassembled ones. Nikita was in his element with the repair drone. He was able to recover about 3 days of recordings. But the dates are fucked up.

One sequence we see a figure, dressed in military fatigues. And it was an orc. This is fucked up because who has an orc in a position of responsibility. There are voices and glimpses of other people. All in German.

I could catch three names: Hans, Steven and Jacob. They sound like they are from Berlin. There is one recording where we heard:

Going to look great. Saved us a week on pylon repairs.

And we found out the drone’s name is Bobbi. The last recording shows Bobbi being raised up from the water and turned around in the bay. The bay is empty. Then there is muffled screams and the footage ends.

By the drone we found a body, torso only. It was the body Anton found top side, half in a hatch. Fubar estimated he had been dead for 24-48 hours. And he is wearing the same fatigues we saw in the video. Mil fatigues. And it looks like he was ripped in half.

The third level had subdued lighting and it was hot. It is getting hotter the lower we go. It reminds me of that old movie I saw with an alien and eggs. Maybe those “star fish” things need to be incubated in a hot area.

We have no idea what this level was for. The renovations here is near completion (according to plans). The walls are designed using something like hexes. Have no idea what the hell is going on here. It looks like it just needs some more electrical work and it would be done.

Around the centre, just above where we found Bobbi, we found a “control centre”. There are about 8 bodies littered around the centre, about 3 to 4 feet from it. Above the centre is a turret which looked off-line. And around the body are lots of flechettes.

At the centre, slumped against the consoles was a guy in fatigues. Same fatigues like in the recording. Fubar went to him and the turret didn’t go off. Must be empty.

He found the guy was alive. He was in poor condition because of dehyration and exhaustion. Then Fubar found his right arm was fucked up. It is festering and he will die, according to Fubar, if we don’t amputate the arm.

The medical bay was near by, so he, Anton & Helmut went to the bay. Nikita and I focused on the centre. Excluding jacking in for information, we wanted to get the systems online.
When I jacked in, I freaked. The H&S logo dissolved or disintegrated into the S&K logo. Saeder-Krupp! This may have been a H&S operation once but now it is S-K who is in charge. Oh, fuck!

It wasn’t easy to get any real information. The encrypts are heavy-duty, like top side. But I was able to find out that the complement is around 20 mercs. Rated high. Ex-mil and experienced mercs.

We were able to get some systems online. So we now have power for this level and those above. So we should be able to release the copter and find fuel for it. The security features here include:

• 1 Level 3 Combat Drone [severely damaged/depleted]
• 2 Flechette overhead turrets [depleted]
• 1 Nightfire Gunnery turret [depleted]
• 4 Stun Gas vents [empty]
• 1 Security console
• 3 Level 2 Trid Cameras with night/thermal features [operational]

The combat drone was in the med centre. Fubar was able to operate and he believes the S-K guy is stabilized. From the combat drone, we saw a recording of the med centre being attacked. It seems about 20 to 30 of the “humans” attacked the centre.

The S-K guys were overwhelmed. Afterwards, from a quick look around, those that survived welded shut all access ways from the lower level to here. They even grabbed doors to weld over the access ways. The only access that is unwelded is the bay doors that I assume leads to the water. Through which Bobbi would be lowered from the level above.

As to the lower decks, we have no major details. From the original schematics and the upgrade blueprints, it seems there are three additional levels below. But the info is confusing and contradictory.

What I can glean is level 4 or Deck 4 was converted into a diving bay. And Deck 5 is designated as Keig Zimmer Alpha is German for non-Germans and translates to “War Room Alpha”. If it was for just Germans, it would be just one word: Kriegzimmeralpha. They love to concatenate words together like hauptbahnhof. Focus, focus!

The last deck we have no info on. I think the rig ends here because it would be about 50’ from the water. Unless there are some things underwater, which I wouldn’t be surprised.

Thing is, we have a time limit. Getting the systems back on line, we found out that we have about 6 hours of power on the rig. And because of the boat and weather, and how knows what else, there is considerable collateral damage. Don’t know for sure if the rig will be staying up for long.

To say I am shitting bricks is an understatement. What is totally fucked up is Helmut grew really quiet as we moved about this level. And in the med bay, he then started to mutter about Temple and there is more going on here. He is freaked, in his subdued way and that is not good.

We are discussing the possibility of just cutting our losses and leaving. And part of me wants to get off this fucking rig.

But as I look over my first pass of analysis, I realize we can’t. Maybe Temple is a dupe in this, honestly believing in a strike force to use against the corps. Or he is neck deep in this. Either way, we were set-up. Someone is playing us. We have to go down and find out what happened here.

Even if it just means covering our asses. If we just leave now, we are an open node. People can come after us. With all the intel I can get from this rig and what happened over the past few years, be it S-K, Macrotech or this “United Nations” will initially tread carefully with us. It gives us some protection, hopefully.

Leech, keep this safe. I’ve set my commlink to core dump if I die. I am trying to record every little detail I can and archive it. Especially starting now. You know where the dump will end up if I don’t make it. And if I don’t, use everything and anything to find out who is behind this. And I’m going to send you my access codes to my accounts in Europe. That will give you some extra credits if you need it.

But I don’t plan to die. I want to figure out this fucked up mess.

Posted by Loekie at 8:10 AM | Permalink | Comments

Saying we are fucked would be an understatement. I think we have been pulled into a game that goes beyond just simple corp & government politics. Thing is I can’t figure out if Temple is just a dupe in all of this or one of the masterminds. Damn, I should have seen this coming.

I am not one for paranoia but after the past few hours, after what I have seen, I cannot help but slip into that mode. And really wonder what is going on here.

As we headed down to the oil rig, we were reminded that the governments are not completely powerless within our current social structure. They are involved in things that the corps have no interest in like foster care.

But they lack the teeth, power and back-bone to affect change. At the same time, the government is rife with rot. We have no idea where government stops and corps start. Most politicians are corrupt and have their own agendas.

And this should have been going through my head back in NYC. Temple with his slick words talked about ideals and getting governments together for the people. But how do they plan to get rid of the rot. I think I am seeing pieces to that answer.

It is simple to speak the following words:

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquillity, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

But how does a new United Nations wrestle power from the corps? How are they going to address the rot in governments like the USCA? How are they going to gain real power in the current world? Creating an elite strike force of 4 men? Have us be like shadow-runners going up against the corps? Just one strike force?

The past couple of hours has my fucking head spinning. There is more going on here and we are being played.

Before we headed here, we were told that, for all intents and purposes, we do not exist to the “government”. They have to tread carefully but we do have a standing order called something like the Nasty Boy Initiative. So we are sanctioned to confiscate whatever we find. But have nothing to back it up.

Thing is, we are experimental to the PTB. They are waiting to see how we do before avowing any knowledge of us. Which, at first made some sense. Our first assignment was to secure the oil rig and make it our “headquarters”. Yet there are a few things niggling at me:

• They pulled us out quickly to get us here fast. Yet Helmut had said something about starting the training in the morning,
• We are now being tested,
• We have no real support from the “government”,
• The oil rig belonged to Macrotech and they supposedly outsourced the rig to a group of mercs,
• We get here to find the main deck deserted and the main armament turrets are empty,
• A ship is moored alongside of the rig & has a hole in it. And it is sinking,
• We find dead bodies (dead for at least 24 to 48 hours),
• We find a “human” that has been “modified” and was one of the original team members from years ago,
• The mercs are not what we thought but a team from Saeder-Krupp. Saeder-Krupp!
• The lower decks were being refitted for some unknown reason but not for drilling oil. More a military command centre,
• All encryption seems to be top-end stuff. Mil-spec. Stuff I heard vague rumours of at Ares. Part of their black-ops department most likely.
• Anton did something and sensed something “beyond” us,
• The S-K group tried to seal up the level we are in to prevent the things from downstairs coming up here,
• It seems the S-K group got their asses kicked.

I’ll get into the details when I can. Right now, I am trying to sort all of this out and see a pattern. See what is hidden in all of this.

The first pass through makes me believe that the “government” did not send us here to setup shop. I believe we were sent to send a message to S-K and the rest of the corps.

Here is what I see. If we fail, no skin off anyone’s noses. The “government” is not connected to this. None of the other corps are either.

But what if we do succeed? Think of the message it sends. We cleaned up a mess that S-K couldn’t. And we know what Lofwyr thinks of those who fail him. I think that it was he who Anton sensed, watching the operations. So we succeed and then the “government” comes in and goes see what we can do. Look at one of our many teams.

Against a AA corp like Macrotech, our success would be ignored. Against corps like Ares and the like, gives them more credence. But think of the buzz both in the shadows and on the street if the new United Nations came in and cleaned up a mess that S-K couldn’t.

It might not command respect from Lofwyr but it would give him pause. With one mission, suddenly people and wyrms would look at the new United Nations differently. And if I am right, he is watching us right now. Analysing the situation, trying to determine what the fuck is going on.

So for people like Temple, it is a win-win situation. If we fail, they will find more to send out. If we succeed, the buzz will be something credits can’t buy. The corps might start to take them seriously.

I could be wrong. This is just the first pass. I need to take a little break. Have a cigarette. Thank God I have some in my jacket. Then try to piece together all that happened over the past couple of hours. Then do a second pass.

The one good thing is I am still alive. And I am going to fucking make sure we all (save Helmut) stay alive. If I am right, then it isn’t just the corps that have to watch out for us. Temple and his people then had better watch their collective asses. No one uses me!

Posted by Loekie at 9:50 PM | Permalink | Comments

I got a transmission from Leech. It was:

[incomming feed 43399393] [secure line decryptor]

Hey Sunshine,

It's Leechy. I did some digging like you asked, but I didn't run up all that much. It's not that the data is protected; it's just not there, like someone purged the whole nest. Haven't seen this kind of barren data store since I ran a definition search for the words ]] corporate compassion[[. Anyway, I though you might use these fragments.

PS Try not to get yourself flatlined G-K, you still owe me some yen from the last time I made you my poker bitch!

:o

• Purging the nest is unusual and uncommon. Normal execs want to keep some sort of record to use to cover their ass when in trouble. Don’t like this.

[SECONDARY TRANS INCOMING]...

The original name of the oil platform, when it was installed, was Chevron Omega. It was funded by Vander Oil, a subsidiary of Macrotech AA. It was built approx. 11 years ago, outfitted with state-of-the-art drilling and core-sampling technology. Approx 6 years ago, an undisclosed event caused the shutdown of Chevron Omega (I suspect a drilling-related accident). Following a brief stint on the inactive list, it was undertaken as a base of operation by some kind of marine research operation (possibly under Macrothech?), but no other data exists on the subject.

• So most of the original rig is old. Any retrofitting would have been for the research, not drilling. Need to dig for who fronted the marine operations.

Interesting tit-bit [1]

Chevron Alpha is the name of Macrotech's third largest comsat orbiting Earth. I wonder what/where is Chevron Beta, or whether it exists at all .

• I vaguely remember the launch of Alpha. When was it again? What is the connection, if any? Need to send out an agent to get some general information on this. Focus on publicity from Macrotech on any and all ventures associated with the name Chevron.

Interesting tit-bit [2]

The merc third-party outfit currently operating the Chevron Omega should either be Black Hornet or Steele&Hawthorne, Macro's two favorite outsources for black ops and off-the-record shennanigans. I could be wrong though. If it's BH, watch your six buddy, they're a bunch of cybered cold psycos who think they have Viking heritage or something. If it's the latter, I'm told they can be bribed or bluffed, but they're no pushovers either (well-financed).

• I doubt we would be so lucky to have the S&H. Best let Nikita know, he may know of the two merc.

Looks like I owe Leech big time, again. Next time we play poker, I'll let him win again. Guy can't play poker with shit.

Posted by Loekie at 6:50 AM | Permalink | Comments

Fear is a mind-killer. Have to focus. I'm going sub-vocal. I focus better when I verbalize. But I don't want the group to hear my panic. For Christ-sake, I now have a gun. Nikita gave it to me and told me to act as if I know how to use it. This is madness!

I need to talk to myself, focus on what I need to do. My skills are of use to the team. I may not be able to use a gun, but information is the key. We can't go in blind. We need intelligence. That I can get. Use all my abilities, make Leech proud of me. I can process a 10 tera block in my sleep. I know different security protocols that Ares uses. Macrotech isn't as advanced as Ares, I hope. First things first.

Step one. Assumptions:

• Rig off the coast of Florida, in international/intercorporate waters (couple hundred miles)
• Some time ago (maybe 5 years), marine research was supposedly conducted off the rig. Done mainly by science subs and other unknown underwater equipment. No details on who financed the research & why.
• It would appear that the rig has not served to pump actual oil in years.
• Some time ago, Macrotech “outsourced” the rig. Assume the rig is now under proxy-control.
• Assume now a rogue operation.
• Eight months ago, a yacht with a father-daughter were waved away from the rig.
• No details could be found about a regular supply connection. Supplies can arrive any way or any time.
• Estimate 20 people on the rig.
• Assume armed and dangerous. Most likely have surface to air missiles.

The key is to help and find things to do to keep the team alive. It is useless if they die and I survive. And make sure the platform is not severely damaged in any way. It would be useless to set up camp there if we blow away a pylon and have the rig listing. And I need the main databases active and undamaged for later.

In many ways, I need them more than they do me. But there action points, things I can do to help:

• Action: Get blueprints of the rig
• Purpose: Know what we are getting into
• Difficulties: Available blueprints may be out of date.

• Action: Determine key in & out-bound communication points
• Purpose: Talk to them, if necessary. Jam out-bound transmission.
• Difficulties: Multi-ports, heavy security, unbreakable access code

• Action: Find call codes
• Purpose: Simulate we are friendly. Come in without fire
• Difficulties: Inaccessible, don’t have any

• Action: Get access to internal links like cameras, sensors, drones.
• Purpose: Guide the team from remote, assess situation as we advance, phantom their view
• Difficulties: Unable to hack into main system, find appropriate codes, disabled by current personnel.

• Action: Find if original marine tech still at rig
• Purpose: May be unusable by Nikita.
• Difficulties: Not there, inaccessible, disabled

• Action: Get list of personnel
• Purpose: Determine number of people on the rig, who is in charge, who do they report to.
• Difficulties: Inaccessible

One possible subterfuge we could use to get onto the rig is making the people think on the rig we are coming from Ares. I could dictate a directive from my father that was sent a couple of months ago that Macrotech has given Ares a temporary lease for the rig. We have been waiting for a response, indicating we were sending a team to take possession of the rig on this date.

The directive presented a generous severance package for those who wished to return to the mainland while those who wished to stay on board would receive a comprehensive package from Ares during the time of our use of the platform.

I can plant the directive in an open area of the Ares directives in case they try to access their system. This could give us landing rights on the platform without any attack.

And it is important that we take the rig with as little damage as possible. Especially their data. I will need that data if we survive. Macrotech will come after us but with the data of what the current occupants have done over the past while gives me leverage.

At the same time, I want to hack into the diary of the father/daughter. Make subtle changes to make it look like his daughter was sick and he needed to stop at the rig. But because of the current tenants, it put his daughter in danger. Luckily he was able to get quickly to the next port of call.

Macrotech is a AA company with AAA envy. They are promoting the “mom & apple pie” image. Even though the platform seems to be outsource, they are responsible for their activities and behaviour. It is still a Macrotech operation. Any and all bad publicity I can threaten them with will give us some breathing room as we set up shop. If we survive the next few hours.

I need to pause for a moment. And say a prayer my mother taught me before we went to Denver.

Posted by Loekie at 8:47 PM | Permalink | Comments

I could use Leech right now. He would know what to do. I'm in way over my head! And I am wasting time babbling about my past. Have to focus on the now. What happened over the past couple of days. Go back to three days ago when my life got fucked up.

I should have known it was going to be a bad day. I came into the office with three hours of sleep and a 'jack headache. I spent the night 'mining and filtering data from Evo for the Hawkins case. I bit off more than I could chew. I tried to regress, analyse and splunk a 23 tera block without any prep. I should have known better.

Anyway, I dragged myself into the office. Gwen was, as always, all smiles. The minute she saw me, she pulled out a couple of her pills and one of her typical motherly tut-tuts. I gave her the results of my work and went to my desk. Juan was at his desk, looking pensive. Except for a hello, didn't say much. Something was eating at him.

The first thing I found in my inbox was a demand from our landlord. He is on our ass again, trying to squeeze more credits from us. The moron is trying to make us pay for work he had to do to the electrical wiring in our office. Thing is, if he didn't fix the mess, he would have been in violation of several building codes. Does he think he can pull this with a lawyer? Moron!

Anyway, after a couple of hours, Juan asked if he could see me in the conference room. Finally I was going to find out what was up his ass. But my brain damage didn't prep me for what was going to happen.

In a nutshell, Juan suggested I head out and start out my own practice. He feels that my father's “presence” is hurting the practice. He could swoop down at any time and shut us down. Putting an end to what we are trying to do.

This had come up before. He said the same thing when I set up shop here in the Combat Zone. “What is stopping Daddy from screwing us over?” was one of Juan's questions. And I let him know of about the situation.

My father wanted nothing to do with my plans. He thought I was throwing away my career and destroying my life (really his). When he saw I was serious, he said: “Fine. Throw away your life. Crash and burn for all I care. Like everything else you've tried, it is going to be a fucking failure. You’re just like your mother.” And he told me if I walked out of the mansion, he would cut me off. He would disown me. I said fine. But before I left, I did leave a little concoction Leech recommended. I wonder if he will rebuild the arboretum?

When I got downtown, my father was true to his word. My accounts were closed and my access to Ares was shut down. Thing is, he forgot I learnt from the expert. I have three backdoor accounts he knows nothing of. And most of the credits I've earned over the past while are safely squirrelled away in accounts all over Europe. And the Islands. The best was that he had no idea Grandpa Roy had already agreed to help me out.

I remember when I went to Roy and Diana's place to tell them I had finally moved out, Grandpa Roy broke into a massive smile. I had never seen such a smile on his face. “It is time for you to fly, my boy.” He said. “Your wings have been clipped for far too long.” Grandma Diana just tapped my raven medallion and said “Let him guide you.”

So I know Juan has issues about my father. But everything I have done to set up this office was me alone. All the credits were from Grandpa or myself and would be hard to trace. Leech helped take care of that. And he would not fuck me over.

A year ago, after the talk and drinks, I thought Juan was chill with things. Seems I was wrong. Juan wants me out because of the spectre of my father. He is afraid that he will shut us down.

I can see his point. The ‘vids lately have hyped our cases by using my name. I know some of our verdicts have gone our way because of my name. But that is part of the game in law. It isn't about truth but image. Law is now an art of seduction which I am good at.

Maybe now that we are making a mark, making a different my father might step in, in Juan's mind. But I think I know him better. Yes, our practice is starting to take off. But it still can fail. Crash and burn. We have had a couple of high profile verdicts. But that can change. A practice lives on its successes. One public failure can wreak a practice. And my father needs to do nothing. Let the fickle finger of fate fuck us over.

Anyway, Juan isn't one to listen. He even had the audacity to bring up my degrees compared to his. Yeah, it's true that I can walk into any of the corps around & get a job there. But when it comes to the people and the streets, that is where his smarts are. And I know a couple of corps that would grab him in a nano over me.

So Juan wants me to branch out on my own so this practice can continue on without my father's focus. He would take on a new partner and continue our work. Once our practice is solid and defensible, I would come back. And my father would not be able to touch it.

Looking back, there are a few points I should have argued. There are major holes in his argument. But the lack of sleep and pounding in my head dulled my abilities. I just nodded and agreed with him.

It was then he dropped the bombshell. I found out many of our cases came about because of his cousin Lupe, who is in City Hall or whatever. I felt as if the rug had been pulled out from under me. I think my neurons froze at that moment. I thought we were getting cases because of what we were trying to do.

Juan said that his cousin heard of an important conference being held in NYC. Something that would be up my alley. Connections I could use to set up my new practice. Something that might be of benefit to me and, in time, for him. All I did was say yes.

It was only once I got home and had some real sleep that I could start to see what really happened. Business is good. We are making a difference. But my face, my name comes out first. Juan is just a sidebar. Even though I did everything not to grab the spotlight, it was thrust on me. It feels as if Juan is jealous and thinks he can do it on his own. Fine. Fuck it! Something didn't feel right. I was planning to talk to Gwen before heading off to the conference in NYC but didn't get a chance.

I had some time to kill before heading off to NYC. I called the office to organize shit and try to talk to Gwen. But she was “busy”. Her voice and body language spoke volumes. When I suggested we get together for a quick lunch, she shook her head. Maybe when I get back from NYC. So I decided to let things wait because I expected to be back in a couple of days. Boy, was I wrong.

I should have known something was wrong with the conference because the night before I had one of those dreams again. I haven’t not had one in ages. It was like the others. Vague, blurred. Out of focus. I am out some where. I can't say if it is a canyon or plain of rock. There is a spire of rock reaching out to a clear blue sky without clouds. Then my vision becomes blurry. From the corner of my eye, I see a white shadow. I hear what sounds like the rustling of wings. A faint voice says something but I can’t hear it. Then the white shadow flies up into the crystal blue sky and I wake up. In a cold sweat.

The conference. Well it wasn’t a meeting of minds. It was a motley crew of people. I thought it was going to be professionals like lawyers but instead I found myself in a room of people who are the furthest away from the law.

The only suit, except for me, was the person who was conducting the conference. Raymond A. Temple. He summoned us to NYC because there is a drive from some governments to retake control from the corps. Challenge the corps monopoly and bring back the political & economic power back to the hands of the people.

Temple told us that different governments were starting to come together and reinstate the idea of a United Nations. And they needed people to go up against the corps.

As Temple talked about the ideals he believes in (have major questions on this), I sat there fucking stunned. One guy, called Merrick was asking things like if the group would be sanctioned to kill without consequence. What?

I am a lawyer. And a potential hacker according to Leech. I am hearing that this guy, Merrick, blew away some gang-bangers because they blew up his clinic and killed some of his people and patients. Then there is Nikita who is some sort of Russian military guy.

Temple is proposing a team, a tactical squad to go after the corps. To bring about change for the people. Reinstate the power of government which was lost so long ago.

The whole “conference” felt weird to me. Temple talks a good game but I wonder what the real agenda is. Be it corp or country, nationalism still hobbles us. Temple talked about a new United Nations yet the old one was a useless exercise in futility.

But during the “presentation”, I didn’t see where I fit in. Temple wants a tactical squad to do things. Based on questions from Nikita and Merrick, the squad is sanctioned to use whatever force necessary to achieve its goals. And for those guys, it would be killing and blowing things up. Where do I fit in? I can’t even use a gun.

Of course I brought this up. Temple said he was surprised I had shown up. And then he told the group I might be one of the most important people in the group. Because of what I know. Yeah, right! During a fire fight, what I am supposed to do? Bore them to death with the intricacies of the World Court?

But something in me clicked as Temple talked. Even though I was making a difference in Boston, was I really making a difference? The world is fucked up. The corps are only interested in the almighty credit. People cannot get decent medical attention. Corps can pollute areas with gay abandon. They can do whatever they want without consequence or recourse.

So maybe the way to start to take down the stranglehold is a change of tactics. I’ve seen the ruthlessness of the corps through my father and his “friends”. They will do anything to get what they want. Maybe trying to work within the system is not the answer. Work outside the box. Cause chaos, confusion. Be a trickster.

Against my better judgement I agreed to join the group. I did bring up the caveat that my joining the group was dependant on they knowing I was a suit, not a soldier. I would be useless in a fight. I was a bit surprised the general reaction was a shrug.

So the squad ends up being five of us. The two most vocal are Nikita and Merrick or FUBAR. Nikita is Russian. He comes from a long line of naval officers from what I gather. He is a marine technologist and an expert when it comes to bombs. And from what I see just bristling with ‘ware. I feel I can trust him.

Merrick is American. And a doctor. From what I got he was a crash cart operative and chop-shop medic. He set up shop to help the average person but had a run-in with gang-bangers. Who he blew away when they attacked his clinic. He seems to know the third person, Anton.

Anton is Russian. And he had me completely confused, at first. He has no ‘ware from what I can see but it seems he can be anyone he wants to be. His accent can change. His body language shifts and changes. Even his appearance can be a little different. And then it clicked. He is a corp espionage specialist. He is an infiltrator that corps use. My father introduced me to a few in Ares.
The last person of the group is Helmut Leer. He is a vet Saeder-Krup merc. He has worked with Temple before and has had previous groups. And from what I gather, he is the only survivor of them. He was quick to take charge.

After the “conference”, we got together to talk and get to know each other. Which meant drinks. I went straight for the Scotch. Helmut was knocking his drinks fast. And in time, we ended up in Nikita’s room for some home-made vodka.

Anton & FUBAR already seem to know each other. Thing is, FUBAR keeps calling Anton Sam Doug. Why I don’t know. It is pissing Anton off and personally, I am not impressed by that. Right now, I really don’t like the guy.

In the end, I had a little too much to drink. We went off to our respective rooms to sleep. To be awoken today with only a few hours of sleep. There was banging at the door and we were rushed out of the hotel to an awaiting “van” and headed to an airport.

There we were told that we had our first assignment. There is an oil rig, several hundred miles off the coast of Florida, in international and intercorporate waters. Temple has designated this to become our new base of operations.

To do so, we are going to change the lease by taking over the platform and clearing out the current contingent of people. It seems that Macrotech has outsourced the rig and it has gone rogue. And now I am off in a copter, heading down to the oil platform. And most likely my death.

Posted by Loekie at 6:53 AM | Permalink | Comments

We are back in the air again, still heading to Florida. To an oil platform. More on that later.

It took me three days to get over the after effects of whatever they hit me with in Flagstaff. It was only once I was up that I got to see my father. I was summoned to his study. He was sitting behind his big oak chair, smoking his pipe with that gross tobacco he always uses. To this day it smells like burning socks to me. Thing is I could not read any emotions on his face. It was blank. He was not angry or happy. Nothing.

In a quiet voice he apologized for letting me down. He had not realized how severe my mother's illness was. I asked what he meant. He told me that over the past couple of years my mum had been experimenting with something called BTL. At that time I had no idea what he was talking about.

He explained it was a dangerous tech that caused brain damage and insanity. The fantasy world she was living with the BTL started to become real to her. She believed she was talking to spirits and ghosts when it was just a construct of her BLT. This lead to her madness and kidnapping me.

When I asked about her, where she was, he just shrugged. With a tired voice, he said he had no idea where she was. The runners he had sent were supposed to return with both of us. But they could not find her. She wasn't there when the runners came into the house. For all he knew, she was in Canyon de Chelly. But she was not of our concern. It was time to move forward. Look to the future. Our future.

In hindsight, my father knew or was told what to do with me. To keep my focus from my mum and what happened. Basically, he gave me whatever I wanted. It is easy to keep a six year old occupied. When I mentioned I wanted to learn how to ride, within a couple of days I had a horse. Any new tech that came out became mine. I wanted to see Dunkelzahn, so he arranged a trip so I could see him.

With all the tech I was getting, I really got into the trix. What stunned me, when I was in school, was how the kids kept complaining about how hard it was to use computers, tech and the trix. At first I thought they were stupid. For me it was quite simple. And my father was there to spur me on.

And he was pleased with the way I advanced in school. In both elementary and high school, I skipped two grades. So instead of graduating from high school at 17, I was only 13. But he had no idea what difficult it could be. A good example was when I was 9. There I was with a bunch of teenagers hitting puberty and I was no where near puberty. I felt completely alone.

Because of my name, no one bullied me but there were a lot of put downs, let alone people ignoring me. But I quickly found out that my knowledge and expertise was a major advantage. Kids started to seek me out to help them with assignments and problems. And then I found out they would be willing to give or do almost everything.

When I was 11, in the throes of puberty, I really could use my knowledge. First, there was Laurie Patterson. She was willing to do anything if I helped her with a trix assignment. She was my first time. Then there was Chris Yarnick. At that time, I didn't see how this was going to my head. How I was becoming like my father.

Thing is, my father sees everything and everyone as objects. He gauges people based on what use they are to him. And he is fast to discard someone when they lose value. And I was learning this at an early age. The kids were willing to give anything for help and it gave me a sense of superiority. Which my father encouraged and cultivated.

A good example was my graduation party. He was proud of my achievements, graduating at such a young age. He threw a massive party at the mansion. All the people I knew were invited. And family, including my mum's parents. Of course, he invited people from the company.

It was the first time, in years I had see Grandpa Roy and Grandma Diana. When I asked about my mum, both looked a little strange and told me they had no idea where she was. They had not heard from her since the day she had left for Denver. I couldn't tell, for sure, if they were telling the truth or not.

But my father was quick to get me away from them. He paraded me about the party, exhorting my achievements and my future. And I loved the attention I got. Except for Jon. But he is a special case. I never liked him and still don't. And for good reason.

Jonathon Fryes. Even from the beginning, I never could find out what his position in Ares was. He started to hang around the mansion a couple of years after my mum left. My father and him were and are extremely close. To the point of being creepy. And it was even worse when he and I were alone.

It took me a couple of years to know more about Jon. To be blunt, he has a magnetic personality. I felt drawn to him. But I felt strange when he was close to me. His hands would move to inappropriate places that made me uncomfortable. That is until I hit puberty and learnt about sex. It was then I realized that Jon was a paedophile.

Thing is, I saw some advantages to the attention he gave to me. Even in my young mind, I could see the weapon sex can be. The leverage one can get, the information that can be archived away. But the age different really bothered me. Why would a man in his 40s be interested an a boy of 11?

Be it the flush of excitement at the party, the attention or the alcohol, I was drawn to Jon. I started to play with him. And I could see Jon was getting into the game. The whole evening was a game of seduction on both sides. To end up in the back gazebo.

After the flush of sex, I became physically ill. The idea what I had done with Jon revolted me. As he went back to the party, I was on my knees puking my guts out. And when I thought I couldn't feel worse, my father made things worse.

When I came back to the party, he was all smiles. I saw him talking with Jon. When he saw me, he gave me a wink and a massive grin. I realized he knew what had happened. I almost became ill right in the middle of the ballroom.

Luckily the next day I was heading off to Europe for vacation. My father arranged three months in Europe for me to see the world before starting university. And when I returned, I was moving into my own apartment near Harvard. So I would not have to deal with Jon on a regular basis.

University was a shock. I was used to being unique in high school. At Harvard I was like everyone else. No one was impressed by my age or my knowledge. And my name didn't do much other, especially since there were sons & daughters from all of the major corps at Harvard.

My one edge was sorting through information. That is how I met Leech. He thought he was erasing his trails as he hacked through the trix, especially in the corp areas. I found out about him because I noticed some patterns in droppings he had left. They were vague and most people wouldn't noticed. The majority of the security bots also would not notice. But I did. And ended up saving his ass.

He was out on the trix and glitched. Specifically in an area of the space subdivision of Ares, looking into a new drone for Mars. He tried to clear his trail but messed up. From the beginning, his abilities impressed me. When he glitched, I saw it. I didn't want to see this artist get flamed. It wasn't easy but I was able to use some of his old droppings to misdirect those who started to search for Leech. In the end, they ended up in Germany not finding out who had hacked into the system.

It would be a few months before Leech and I actually met. I didn't think it would be a good idea to find him until the bytes settled after his glitch. All he knew of me was my avatar I called Raven until we met. And then came one of the most important people in my life.

To call him misanthropic would be a complement. Leech has this complete, utter contempt for humankind. His life is the trix. I believe if he could xfr his essence into the trix, he would. He has more in common with AI modules than most people. And it was he who opened my eyes to the world.

We didn't hit it off when we finally met. And it wasn't just my name. It was my arrogance. My view on people and the world. The first thing he mentioned was I was just another planet rapist. I was taken aback. He laced into me and my father. And all we represent. I tried to defend myself and my father but he didn't hear a word I spoke. After our meeting, I was infuriated by the guy.

I have to stop here again. There is some discussions starting about our mission. Hopefully, I'll get to that in the next entry.

Posted by Loekie at 4:45 PM | Permalink | Comments

While I stand here on the tarmac, something comes to mind. It is from Robert Jackson. It is something I have kept stored in my comlink. Well, specifically two things:

The very purpose of a Bill of Rights was to withdraw certain subjects from the vicissitudes of political controversy, to place them beyond the reach of majorities and officials, and to establish them as legal principles to be applied by the courts. One's right to life, liberty, and property, to free speech, a free press, freedom of worship and assembly, and other fundamental rights may not be submitted to vote; they depend on the outcome of no elections. [Opinion for the Court in West Virginia Board of Education v. Barnette 319 U.S. 624 (1943)]

Those who begin coercive elimination of dissent soon find themselves exterminating dissenters. Compulsory unification of opinion achieves only the unanimity of the graveyard. [Opinion for the Court in West Virginia Board of Education v. Barnette 319 U.S. 624 (1943)]

I have to hold onto this.

Posted by Loekie at 7:21 PM | Permalink | Comments

I suppose this may be an exercise in futility because I may be dead in a few hours. My life has been totally fucked up with the events of the past couple of days. Things started off innocently but now is spiralling out of control. I'm going to take a little time to focus on all of this.

With all that has happened, I have no idea if my journal is still online and available or not. So I'm going to start this journal and have it in a secure portal. If something happens to me, someone will be able to use what I have found out, up to now. I have set an automatic ‘cast on this journal so at least Leech will get access to this when the time comes. Even if I die today, someone can use this. This goes with my two mottos: Information is key and Everyone has a secret.

For this entry, I think I should introduce myself. And a bit of background to set things up. My name is Gideon Matthew Joshua Roy Kingswell. And yes, my father is Jeremiah Kingswell. Something I am not proud of. He has been an albatross around my neck for all of my life.

I was born August 13, 2036. The year Japan took control of San Francisco and the UCAS introduced the 14th Amendment. Thing is, I don't remember much until I was around 4. But from what I have been told, from the onset, I was gifted. I was talking and reading when I was around 1. By three, I could read through stuff and see trends and behaviours. I could discover unknown or hidden patterns. I could create models from complex data. Something I now know is called data-mining. Obviously, at that young age, I couldn't do as much as I can do now.

My first real memories are of my mum. At first, she was a happy, cheerful person. But over a year or so, she started to change. She didn't smile as much. She started to become withdrawn. And then I can vaguely remember she was having trouble sleeping. Over time, she started to look haggard and was losing weight.

When my dad wasn't around (which was a lot), my mum would occasionally talk to me about my heritage. My father had made sure I had little contact with her parents. My mum told me that was because they were Native Americans and over the past few years they were getting more and more involved in Native American traditions. And now my mother was joining them.

At night, she would tell me different tales from the Navajo, my people she said. She especially liked to tell tales of Coyote. In a soft voice, she would tell me to look to Coyote, look to the trickster. There was much I could learn from him. I didn't understand her at the time but now I see the wisdom in her words.

Things between my mum and father grew more and more strained. But being young, I didn't understand what was going on. I knew something was seriously wrong the night of May 14, 2042.

Father had gone to some sort of company function as he often did. Mum came into my room and told me to quickly take what I considered precious. Fill up my travel-pack because we were leaving. Before I could ask why, she was gone. I rushed about my room, grabbing what I could.

Mum and I left the mansion through the back. A car was waiting for us. It took us to Logan where we got onto a small plane. It took off and mum told me we were heading to Denver. It was then she started to tell me what was going on.

She told me that over the past year, her spirit guide was teaching her the correct path to follow. People had forgotten their roots, they were being seduced by material things. They were losing their spiritual anchor. And it was time to go back to our roots. She was being called to go to a place called Canyon de Chelly. And I was to go with her. It was important for us to reach Spider Rock. When I asked for more details, she told me to wait. And she wouldn't let me to jack in so I could not get any details.

When we landed in Denver, we were met by four men. At that time, I did not know they were high level officials in NAN. We were quickly put into a car and brought to a house outside the city.

We spent a few days there waiting. I had no access to the trix or anything. All I had were well-thumbed books. And I saw little of my mum because she was always in meetings or discussions. Luckily I found a Larry Niven novel I hadn’t read in ages. So I spent most of my time outside reading about Louis Wu’s adventures.

After a few days, my mum joined me for breakfast. She told me that we would be living in a couple of hours. We were driving to Flagstaff. And from there, we would then head to the canyon and our goal. It would take us a few days to drive down to Flagstaff.

The minute we landed in Denver, I saw a marked change in mum. She looked relaxed, serene. She started to smile again. Yet I learnt nothing of what was going on during my stay in Denver. As we left Denver, it was then she started to talk about the journey. She said the fog was lifting. Soon I would be crossing the border. And find my tiergeist.

Of course, my young head was spinning. Leaving Boston to be in places I knew nothing about confused me. At times I wondered if mum had gone insane. I had no idea what was going on. My quiet life had been turned upside down. But mum reassured me things would all work out. We were safe. Her spirit guide would protect us. It was our first night in Flagstaff when I found out she was wrong.

It was late at night and I was awoken by a loud bang. I tried to turn on the light but it didn't work. Then I started hear a barrage of popping sounds which I now know was gunfire. My door opened and a man with a gruff voice told me to stay in the room. And not to open the door for anyone except him or my mother. Then he closed and locked the door.

The house was being rocked by explosions and the air was filled with gunfire. I was terrified. I ran into the closet to hide. I crouched down, covering my ears to keep out all of the noise but it didn't help. Suddenly there was a loud explosion in my room. I heard several voices. They were looking for me. I did my best to crouch in the corner, hide in the darkness of the closet but they found me. The last thing I remember is the door opening, a flash of light and the sickly smell of lavender.

When I woke up, I found myself in my bed in Boston. I was sick and had a major headache. There was a nurse in my room to help me out. I was so weak it took me three days before I could leave my bed. And during that time, not once did my father come to see me.

I'll have to stop here. The copter is landing for refuelling. I'll continue once we are back in the air.

Posted by Loekie at 7:00 PM | Permalink | Comments

Save one person, this blog will not make sense. So let me explain. I am now running a character in a role playing game called Shadowrun. My buddy at work had brought this up before and now he is GMing a game. And he asked me to play.

The twit I am jumped at the chance. Then reality came into play. The last time I had anything to do with role playing came to an end in 1996 when my Dungeon & Dragons group finally came to an end because of people moving on. A group that I had run for many a year.

Thing is, save I haven't role played in 10 years, I haven't been a character player in more than 15 years. I am used to being the GM. Basically God. And I was agreeing to be a mere mortal. Someone not in control. Argh! Yet, the elusive allure of being somone different tugged at me, and I said yes.

Of course, I am at a complete disadvantage since the other players have played within the Shadowrun world and I know shit about the game. Time to hit the ground running. Yeah, it didn't help that on Monday, I thought we were just getting together to sort out the characters and situations. I didn't expect to actually have to play the character. In the end, all I could do was play a stunned character and just go with the flow.

So this blog is going to be, save my comments on the game, the expunged diary of Gideon Kingswell. What the players will read on our collective network will be "edited" based on what I will put here. In the end, only Jason will have use of this blog. And if you are interested, this will be the musing and adventures of someone new to Shadowrun, playing a character that has no idea on how to kill someone. Boy, life is going to be interesting.

Posted by Loekie at 7:17 PM | Permalink | Comments