Shadowrun Splintered State I

---

Seattle's know for bad mornings, waking up to gunshots down your street, your landlord banging on your door cause you have't paid the rent, or getting called in extra early by your boss cause someone else isn't doing their job. Bad mornings are even worse for shadowrunners, waking up to a stack of unpaid bills on the table, having your fixer calling you at 3 a.m. cause some peppy Mr Johnson wants to keep things on the down low. Bad morning doesn't begin to cut it when you're woken up by a loud knock at your door at 7:00 a.m. on a Monday by two hard-nosed Knights Errant dicks and a half a dozen patrolmen, all smiling like the won the lottery. They read you your rights on an armed robbery beef that doesn't sound familiar, slap the cuffs, and stuff you into the back of a Patrol-1. Twenty minuets later you find yourself in a dark and hostile interrogation room of the old Lone Star precinct downtown, which is now a Knights Errant franchise, being enthusiastically interviewed by a pair of detectives.

Detective 1
"Where were you, Sunday night at 8:00 pm? Tacoma?"

Detective 2
"What are the names of your accomplishes?"

Detective 1
"Where are the commlinks? Talk now and It might reduce your sentence"

Detective 2
"Your friends have been giving us interesting details, it won't be long now before the start giving us names"

The rub doesn't sound familiar to you, a fact which leads the detectives to ask their questions more forcefully. Your also growing hungry, having not had breakfast yet, and they have a bottle of water nearby, though neither of them have offered it to you. One of them kicks his chair back and starts shouting at you.

Detective 2
"we will find out what happened last night, and when we do, I'm Going To Make Sure Your Life In Prison Is A Living Hell!"

The first one takes a moment to calm down his partner, he speaks softly in the other mans ear, and then the other guy leaves the room.

Detective 1
"look, this doesn't look good, and you not cooperating is making it look ever worse. Just talk now, let us know where the commlinks are, and who hired you, and maybe we can work out a deal? yeah?"

---

Lace

The blond girl's lower lip trembled and she blinked trying to hold back tears. “Please, officer, I really don't know what you're talking about! I've never done anything illegal in my life!”

Unless you count acquiring fake SINs and living under an assumed name! Is that what this is? Is Courtney Carpenter a real person, and I'm being accused of something she did?

When Knight Errant had showed up at her door this morning, Alana Malory had assumed she was being investigated for identity theft, for renting this apartment across the country from where she grew up under the name Courtney Carpenter. She'd been on the verge of breaking down and babbling about her real name and the men who'd stolen her father half a dozen times, each time only holding back because she could tell that wasn't what they were asking about.

Finally unable to hold it back, tears ran down the blond girl's cheeks. “I really don't know what you're talking about, officer! You have my com link. It's the only one I own! I've only been in town a month. The closest thing I have to a friend is this homeless guy on the corner I cook for!”

She broke down further, starting to sob, and shook her head, blue eyes pleading.

Toon

Pathetic.

When Jason Cabero woke up to find Knight Errant knocking on a door registered to Martin DeVille, he was certain that his father had finally pulled the plug and decided to bring his wayward son in. If they'd called him by his real name or mentioned anything about the Lone Star theft, he might have kept believing it. But the moment they'd put him in the interrogation room it was nothing but the classic Good Cop/Bad Cop routine that had worked against idiots for centuries. Hell, Jason could quote chapter and verse the Lone Star Handbook describing the interrogation technique.

It was a nonsense charge, and with these questions he could only conclude that they were fishing; trying to get him to admit to something even if it wasn't the charge they brought him in for. There might not even have been a robbery, just a round up of suspicious types so some captain could hit his monthly incarceration quota. The pale young man responded to the incessant questioning with simple silence, staring down at the table unmoving and unreacting. He'd probably take a couple of lumps and maybe a night in jail, but it was better than admitting to something. As it was, all he could do was wish they hadn't confiscated Courage. The small snake-drone had been customized with a small speaker, and often served as his voice when anxiety or coughing would have ruined his own words.

Firewire

You are killing me, really? Mom's gone a month and I am being busted? Really? Did they know about the go-ganger? What theft, was the shit she bought hot? No, Scrimshaw was clean, even if he was twisted and liked little boys. Last night she had lived it up a little, a hot meal and hiring that squat under the name Kylo Ren, and what happens? Patrol-1 Stormtroopers and these two dicks, hehe works on so many levels, kicked her door in as she tried to scamper out the window.

"Sir, really," she spoke between sniffles "I am clean. The rig is silly, an old Ren comm, run through a portable jack. Check it out, the jacks are dead, check it. Looks cool, just gives a bit of street cred to my tale of having backup when the bully boys roll in. So all I gots is two comms. I rent it out for SIMs on occasion for rent or what-have-ya."

Lubash

Lubash wasn't what anyone might call a 'morning person', if any Ork could be called such a thing. But having a couple Knights Errant hammering on one's door was enough to wake the dead, let alone one Ork. As he was dragged away from his bed (that at best was only barely better than a hard floor) he started making a tally of anything he did that might have gotten these guy's attention, drawing a blank.

Oh it wasn't as though his hands were clean, certainly not, but he'd been hard up for work lately and hadn't had much of a chance to so much as flex his muscles threateningly. So when he was deposited in his little interrogation room he simply listened for what he was being accused of before speaking at all.

"Dun't know what choo're talkin bout," Lubash said, playing up the 'dumb Ork' stereotype as he spoke. If people thought you were just a dumb brute then they could be less careful with what they knew, and he might pick up something interesting.

Of course, it also helped that he really didn't know what in the wide, wide world of sports they were talking about, but he had a feeling that these guys weren't about to take that at face value if they were going to the trouble of bringing him in like this.

Lance spent the start of the interigtaion sort of frozen in shock. He wanted to slip away into the shelter of some shadow, mental or physical, but the cops kept at him.

Fear gets boring. Finaly given a chance to get a real word in, snark came bubbling out in it's place. "Armed robbery? I'm sure I don't know what you mean. If you're wondering what I might have witnessed, I can tell you with complete honesty I didn't see a thing."

Sitting there, cuffed to the chair, without his sunglasses, Lance's green eyes did their own thing, wandering around half way inside his skull making it appear as if he was always dreaming. They had an almond shape common to asian eyes, and his skin was surpringly well tanned for a man wiht hints of irish brogue and flame red hair.

The detective shakes his head at you, looking regretful, "Its sad to see someone go down this road, trust me it doesn't end well" he says. He looks you in the eyes, a hard look "if you don't talk with us you looking at prison... But if you come clean we might be able to work something out" he finishes. Taking out one of his pages he lays it out on the table "Talk to me, help us to help yourself" he says, his eyes softening.

---

The detective stared at you for a few minutes, waiting for something, anything, an indication that you were going to say something. Soon he lets out a low sigh "We're not going to get anything from this one" he says, before raising his and over his head and giving a round up gesture. A par of beat cops shows up in their gold and black uniform, and take you away. You get a decent tour of the place as you walk, noticing that the place is a literal fort. There are guards at every corner, and cameras, and as you walk you can feel the oppressive power of wards as you pass through them. Finally you reach a holding cell, 10X10 meters in size, concrete floor, walls and ceiling of sturdy iron bars, a drain in the floor and a nasty looking chemical toilet in one corner, with a row of hard plastic bunks along one wall. The cops toss you in, slam the door behind you, and walk away. You can see multiple cameras, with their lenses pointed at the cell, and can practically feel the eyes of the people at the other end of them.

---

The detective nods his head sympathetically, "I can understand that, got to make rent... do the odd job for a little cash on the side" he says, giving you a smile. He takes up his papers, bouncing them on the table a few times to straighten them up. "So how much did you get for the job?" he asks, a gentle smile on his face. At that point his partner returns, he has a couple bottles of water and places one down in front of you before walking over to stand against the far wall. He cracks his own open and takes a sip, content to wait and watch for the moment.

---

The detective stared at you for a few moments before sitting back in his seat, "What we're talking about is the shipment of commlinks that you and your friends stole from Tacoma last night" he says. "Are you really going to sit here and play dumb? what, do you think your friends will do the same? don't you get it, your their scapegoat" he says. Suddenly the other detective returns, holding up a file folder.

Detective 2
"we've got a confession"

Detective 1
"excellent"

he returns his gaze to you, and he bites his lip before steepling his fingers over the papers.

Detective 1
"This is your last chance to come clean... after I walk through that door thats it, your done"

---

The detective lets out a low sigh, and starts shaking his head, he lets out a low chuckle as if to say 'great, this guy'. "Funny guy, great... Look, I'm just doing my job, help me out and I'll help you out, shorter sentence, parole in a few weeks, and your good" he says, giving you a smile. He checks his papers again, rifles through them before selecting a picture of a smashed up cargo truck. He lays it down in-front of you before clasping his hands over it. "all you have to do is answer 3 simple questions. who hired you? who was on the team? and where the merchandise is? thats it" he says, giving you a pleading look.

---

Jason remained silent and still as the cops dragged him away, not resisting in the slightest. If they thought he was just some burnt out, barely functional chip head then they wouldn't want to waste their time on him.

Once in the cell he looked around briefly. Not a lot to work with, but he had no intention of a breakout. Not yet anyway. But he was curious as to just what was going on. Moving over to the wall he lay down in one of the bunks, putting his hands behind his head and shutting his eyes. Anyone watching would just see a kid trying to nap. They couldn't see the control rig in his brain, and the mental command to locate and zero in on Courage's signal. The sewer snake drone had been on him when he was brought in and taken along with his gun and comlink. If he could jump in, that was eyes and ears wherever Courage was.


((If able, jumping in to snake and looking around.))

Lubash

Lubash eyed the manila folder, a few papers sticking out of it as the detective spoke, wondering if perhaps he really was being used as a scapegoat for whoever had pulled off this job. Or maybe that folder was just so much hot air and they had nothing on him. It was a difficult position; he had no doubt that if they really wanted to these guys could put him away, especially if they needed to fill a quota.

"Still dun know what cha talkin bout," he grumbled, genuine confusion leaking into his tone. "Was playin cards all last night, and that's the chip truth!" And it really was; he'd been hanging out with a few friends from his old gang days, the ones who didn't mind that he'd been freelancing lately.

The blond girl gave a whimper. Blinkign way tears, she squeezed her eyes shut, then looked at the apge on the table, trying to see what it was, befoer she looked up into his eyes. "I honestly don't know what you're talking about, officer."

The continued acusations were piercing down to the strength and steel at the core of the meek scholar, and she swallowed hard, then straightened her back. Angry words started to fight their way out of her depths, and she wondered what she'd sa if he continued to fling these confusing acusations a her.

Firewire burned in embarrassment as she watched the bottles with greed. She took the bottle and held it, though she didn't guzzle she drank sparingly. Hopefully she would be allowed to take whatever she had left with her. Her embarrassment grew as he reminded her of how she had made her money last night. "800 nuyen, to spread some joy to a clean Mister, bought my rent, a hot meal, and this is whats left." As she mentioned spreading the joy she spread her legs, then she dropped a cred stick with 130 nuyen still on it. "Just take it and let me go."

The officer wipes a hand over his face in exasperation. "Alright, lets start again... Where were you Sunday night at 3:00 a.m." he asks. His partner returns at that moment, and calmly sits down in the other chair across from you. He proceeds to stare at you as the first Detective asks his question, and continues to do so afterwards. The first detective doesn't seem to notice either.

---

As you close your eyes the matrix flashes to life behind your eyes, and in moments your able to track down Courage. Jumping in it takes a moment for the drones optics to adjust. you see the inside of some kind of heavy plastic container, your commlink, gun, and other knickknacks that you had on you when you were brought in. It seems that Courage is being kept in one of those plasteel evidence bins that you see on the triads. The material just opaque enough to give you some difficulty when trying to look through it. You hear nothing as the material also seems to bee pretty good at blocking sounds.

---

The detective looks down at the credit stick confused for a few moments before a slight smile spreads across his lips. The other Detective smiles as well, and its not a nice thing.

Detective 1

"Gottcha, for attempted bribery you are under arrest pending an investigation. you have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do can be held against you in a court of law, and you have the right to an attorney"

They slap a pair of handcuffs on you and lead you down to the holding cells. The oppressive environment of the precinct heavy on your shoulders. They lead to a 10X10 holding cell, where you see a squad leading an orc with blond hair and gray eyes. They toss the pair of you into the same cell with cement floor and ceiling, and iron bars on all 4 walls. Inside you also see a young man lying down on one of the bunks, his eyes closed as though asleep. Behind you you hear another trio of footsteps and a third party arrives. The officers push a man with red hair and eyes that seem to stare ahead at nothing into the cell along with you.

---

The detactive shakes his head looking dissapointed.

Detective 1
"Tag him and bag him"

four armed and armored Knights Errant Officers enter the interrogation cell and escort your from the room, forcefully. They go the extra mile with handcuffs too, and led you through the fortress of a building to the holding cells. You find another pair of officers there leading a young woman with red hair, and they toss the two of you into a 10x10 cell with concrete floor, walls and ceiling of sturdy iron bars, a drain in the floor and a nasty looking chemical toilet in one corner, with a row of hard plastic bunks along one wall. Laying down on one of the bunks was a young man, eyes closed, who appeared to be resting. Behind you you hear another trio of footsteps and a third party arrives. The officers push a man with red hair and eyes that seem to stare ahead at nothing into the cell along with you.

---

The officer stares at you for a few minutes, before throwing up his hands "alright funny guy you know what, a night in the slammer will fix that attitude" he growls. With a quick motion of his hand a pair of officers comes in and leads you away. As you walk your able to make out the individual footsteps of most of the people of the floor, and your able to distinguish between the armored ones and the non armored ones. The count ends when you reach the holding cells, and stands at 100 armored combatants and 50 regulars. The push you into the room and you can make out the breathing of 3 people in there as well

---

"Three AM, sir?" Alana took a few deep breaths. "I was asleep by 3AM. I went to bed at midnight Sunday. I read a short story by Poe, and then I played a little Dunklezhan's Quest. It was getting close to two when I dozed off."

The drones movements were nearly silent within the box, slithering over his belongings and climbing up the side of the container to nudge at the lid. If he really went for it maybe he could slip out, but without knowing what was on the other side he might just get Courage blown to pieces. It wasn't worth it. At least, not until he found out whether they were going to let him go or try to send him down for the possibly non-existent crime.

He jumped out, a slight change in his breathing the only sign that mind had returned to body. Immediately he could hear others in the cell, his body tensing a little. Shit, that was the last thing he wanted. He opened one eye a little, watching the others and trying to gauge whether or not it was safe to interact with them.

Lubash

Careful not to sigh as the Knights had him cuffed, Lubash let the men bring him to the cell that would be his home for the forseeable future. As they approached he could see that he wasn't going to be the only person in the cell; one person was on the bed, apparently asleep, while another arrived shortly after he did.

"Hmph," he said, snorting as he looked the cell over and placed a hand on one of the empty beds. "Not the worst bed I've ever been forced to use, which is a problem in it's own right." The Ork looked the newcomer over, folding his arms in front of him, silently getting his measure.

The detective shook his head and let out a long sigh. "It seems that I'm going to have to demonstrate just how bad things are for you right now, maybe then you'll start telling me the truth... Take her away" he says. A group of officers enter the small interigation cell and handcuff you, before leading you down the armored hallways of the precinct. Around every bend you see more and more cops, a litteral army standing between you and freedom. As you reach the holding cell you see that there are already another four people occupying it. Opening the cell door they throw you into the steel barred enclosure.

---

You all stand in silence as a fifth person is brought into the holding cell, a young blond. You all stare at one another, silently gadgeing each other. The tension is thick as you all watch and wait. No guards come by, and for the moment, you are alone with each other, not counting the cameras.

Lace

The young blond flexed her wrists and fingers as she took a few steps into the holding cell, looking around at the gathering. It crossed her mind that she must look utterly ridiculous stepping in here, barely five feet tall, yellow hair in a french braid, wearign baby blue pajamas and pink slippers.

God... Is this really a world I'm trying to break into? They're going to eat me alive if I do... I need to toughen up fast...

The ork and redhead kind of looked like they could handle it. The basicly cattatonic kid would probably be devoured a few mintues before she was. She wasn't sure what to make of the blind man.

The blond took a few deep breaths and straightened up a little, trying to poject at least a shred of confidence.

If Lance was paying attention to auras, he might notice that the blond girl was awakened--a magician or adept of some sort. His sense of smell could tell him that the blond was afraid--naturaly enough--but perhaps not feeling the stark terror of the truly helpess.

After a moment, the blond crossed the room and sat down nervously next to the catatonic kid, somewhat amused when she realized she was inticitively getting into position to defend the only one clearly weaker here than she. The blond sat down next to him. She took a few slow, even breaths, then said, "So, um... I'm Courtney."

Reeling from how this had turned, she looked at the little cred-stick and to the guard as incredulously. They were tossing her into the clink over 130 nuyen? No, she was heading to lock-up long before she got here. It may have taken her this long to realize the situation, but here it was. Damn, three days a runner, and already she has a murder, and attempted bribery on her record. Now, if they can find a record to tag this to. Of course, she is going to have to explain this.

Now, the others, she was here with an intimidating assortment of fellow felons in a tight 10x10 room. As the blonde sat beside her, obvious protection racket if she ever saw one, she bent herself double, scanning quickly beneath both beds. "Tell me Courtney, did they just shuffle you in here as quickly as they did me. Looking for anything to lock the pin on that door? I know I just asked her, but all of you can answer if you will."

She scanned the floors, both sides under the bunks, and the wall behind, is there something wrong with this cell? She reached under and began pulling one of the springs of the bed to begin fashioning her pick or shiv, whichever came first. Something was off about this environment, you don't set this kind of diversity unless you are just feeding the orc, and he seems to be sitting quiet to date.

Lubash

The arrival of a fifth person was slightly shocking to Lubash. While he hadn't expected the Knights to have much care for their prisoners it was a little odd that they'd decided to cram five people, of both genders no less, into one cramped cell. That seemed a bit...unwise to him, but whatever, he wasn't some bigshot private cop, what did he know?

"I wouldn't know about her," Lubash idly commented in response to the attractive redhead's question, "But that certainly sounds like what happened to me. Brought in without so much as a how'd ya do, told they had a confession for something I hadn't even heard of." He snorted derisively, "Bastards."

Dark Walker



"That's pretty much the story with me," I say. "I'm awakened early in the morning by a couple of Knight Errant boys and brought up on charges for something I neither did nor knew me anything about. They even tried to show me a picture, a lot of good that did me."

I'm just glad I actualy have a friend in this place. I hope I can get in touch with Detective Madison. Maybe she can tell me what's going on, even get me out of here. She knowes if she wants I'll help her crack this case.

Toon

The movement of the bed snapped Jason out of his false sleep, quickly sitting up and sliding to the other end of the bed. His instant look of hostility and suspicion faded slightly when he realized it was a blond girl that looked intensely nervous, and somehow he managed to keep himself calm when he looked around at the others. It was an...odd assortment. But it did support his idea that this was just a round-up with no real purpose. His own crimes still weren't reported, and this would last long enough for the sergeant on duty to collect his bribes. A few potential threats, but everyone seemed content to complain about the cops for the moment.

The stories began and Jason looked away, keenly aware of how vulnerable he was. Without any of his machines there would be nothing he could do except shout loudly and pray that a Knight Errant came quickly enough to stop him from being killed.

Ultimately he nodded quietly, signaling that his experience was similar to the two who'd already spoken. When the redhead began searching under the beds he rose, moving a few steps away from her to lean against the wall with his hands in his pockets. There was a brief urge to let her know that trying to break out would end badly, but the words died in his throat. Just like they always seemed to when he was vulnerable.

As you open up your other senses your able to feel out the auras of the other people in the cell, getting a general feel for them. The colors that you "see" swirling around each of them are unique, save for one aspect, confusion. The chaotic emotions hanging over each of the others in the cell like a palpable cloud, and over yourself as well.

---

The building around you seem quiet as each of you starts to interact with the others. It quickly becomes apparent that you'll likely be here a while as nobody comes to check on you. Not like they would need to, given the state of the art Maglock on the door, and the steel cage around. Something seems off however, mostly the lack of noise from the rest of the building, after all, this was only a holding cell. you should be able to make out the sounds of the officers going about their day, hearing their voices, foot steps, something. But you hear nothing, not a sound, and its a little disconcerting.

---

Your able to recognize the type of holding cell the cops have placed you and the others in. Its a confession room, with extremely sensitive mics, and soundproof walls. Lone Star used them to, putting groups of suspects into the same room and listening in on what was said. They have a decent success/failure ratio, given that the sound proofing coupled with having everyone who took part in the crime in the same room. You father had told you about them once, a while ago.

---

No one spoke, which was a relief. But the redhead's search for a tool was becoming worrying, and the last thing Jason wanted was to be caught up in someone else's idiot confession. Briefly his eyes flickered towards the ork and the man with odd eyes. Neither seemed particularly keen on sharing, but you never knew when the posturing would start.

As long as things remained silent Jason remained just where he was, leaning against the wall. It wasn't until someone looked like they were about to speak that he would move, quickly putting himself before them to be sure they noticed and putting a finger over his lips. Then he'd point up to the ceiling and walls before cupping a hand behind his ear, hopeful that they would catch the meaning.

Firewire paused, her fingers coming in contact with a wire along the spring bracing, something she wasn't used to. Standing she shook her head, her wildly loose ponytail cascading around her and dancing like flames. "Did anyone," she froze as Jason stepped forward, waving and gesturing wildly about before cupping his ear. "I am not a poser! These are human ears thank you." She fell back to 'her' corner, crossing her arms under her breasts, but scowling like she would defend the corner tooth-and-claw. The only trait that threw her claim to humanity being the bright red eyes. She mumbled something to herself, something that sounded like "Kiss my ..." or something.