Trinity Universe: Carbon Shadows

[Asbjørn]

Club Carmo, Chiado, Lisbon

Who would have thought that the revolution would start here, huh? The self-absorbed, hedonist, sexed up, drug-addicted club scene of Lisbon. Not exactly the kind of place you picture world-shaking conspiracies and groundbreaking science to first appear, is it?

But it did.

Right here at this very table is where they first were gathered. The first Carbon Shadows. Don’t believe me? Suit yourself. I know. I was there.

Yeah, I said “Carbon Shadows”. Capital C, capital S. Ok, I’m a poetic soul with a taste for f*cking cliché romantic headlines. So sue me.

Want a drink? A shot, maybe? You only live twice, right…? ::wink

Club Carmo was full of life that evening. People were dancing on all the floors, playing out all the ancient games of love, lust, hatred, possession... Every single one of the dancers did his or her best to be noticed, to be the centre of attention, but from a distance all semblance of individuality was lost in the mass of moving bodies.

The old Convento do Carmo had survived eartquakes and thunderstorms, but had been forced to bend knee to the post-Esperanza frenzied entrepreneurialist capitalism that ran all of Lisbon. The once serene convent had been turned into a temple to a different set of gods, and none but the most die-hard orthodox Christians questioned the lack of vengeance from the Lord. Sex, drugs and cutting edge muezzin bang were the saints of this modern world, all serving the all-powerful high lord and master of all mankind; Father Yuan.

The Church of Yuan had a pretty high following those days, and Lisbon was the dirty reflection of Rome and Mecca all rolled into one. Anything could be bought or sold on the streets and docks of the City of Sin, and an abandoned church was no exception.

I used to work here back then. Well, I say work, but it was more like hanging around looking mean, and screwing anyone I wanted. Not much of a job, maybe, but I enjoyed it.

They called me Martelo, the Hammer, and the guy who owned the toolbox was the same guy who bought the convent and turned it into a celebration of all the best kinds of sin the city had to offer. Actually, a more fitting name might have been ‘the Toolbox’, but it doesn’t sound as hard, you know? Cause even though the perks of the job are the ones I remember, it wasn’t all about being muscle. I handled most of the street-level deals, recruited new people, did some ops… you get the idea.

Anyway. I’d been busy recruiting a shitload of new bodies for the Boss, and the whole thing had been out of my hands for about a week. I’d handed over the list – complete with my recommendations – and was back to my regular schedule. What? F*ck, no, I don’t remember names, man. But I can tell you it was a Tuesday, cause I always had two girls on Tuesdays. ::cool

The Boss runs a pretty tight operation, so the hopefuls had to go through a bunch of background checks, a few medical scans and at least one voluntary chemical interrogation to root out potential double agents and rival operatives. The ones who passed were returned to me to be introduced to life on the inside.

Yeah, yeah… I know I make it sound more glamorous than it was. Silverstone’s – the Boss – was far from the only operation in the market, and he wasn’t any more powerful or influential than most of the others, but he had a few edges. Wasn’t many who knew back then, but you’d have to give a huge offering to the priests of Father Yuan to find anyone better at ElInt and electronic countermeasures, for one thing. At least around here.

Take a look around. There hasn't been a ceiling to this structure for hundreds of years, and there were nearly two thousand guests in here on a good night, crowding the floors, the galleries, the stairways, even the f*cking landing platform up there. There were five bars, two dance floors – one of them Hologram Compatible to give regulars the chance to drop by mentally if not physically, several private and semi-private floors and platforms like this one along the walls and pillars, and all the pleasure and fun money could buy. It was one huge party, and Silverstone always liked the idea of being able to do business here without fear of eavesdroppers. We even had scrambler signals across all frequencies mixed into the holograms playing over here. With all the distortion, audio-visual scramblers, static fields and whatnot he put up, you'd have to be a f*cking psion to pick up anything he didn't want you to. And there's no real way to defend against those f*ckers, right? At least I didn't know of anything reliable enough back then.

The only way to get any info on the business going on here was the old-fashioned way, stakeouts and infiltration. And with a good crowd to get lost in, and in-house security being as good as it was, the 'office hours' of my job were pretty boring. Except for those perks I mentioned, of course...

So I used to spend my nights right here, talking shop, having a good time, or both. On that particular evening I was waiting for the new blood, and enjoying the company of two lovely redheads who might have been twins, I dunno. We were all high on some new Brazilian shit, and I was starting to hope none of the newbies were gonna show. No such luck, of course. To be honest I was a bit curious too. I didn't know the details at the time, but I knew the Boss had something special in mind for these people and I was looking forward to see who he'd picked.

The faces of all the hopefuls had been in the Carmo database for weeks already, and as soon as one of them showed up at the club, the Abbot - the agent - popped into view on my table, looking pretty damn ridiculous between the drug-dripping live plant at the centre of the table and the half empty cocktail glasses. The constructed voice was that of a slightly drunk man a few years and several doses of expensive substances past his prime.

"You have company, Martelo."

Letting the breast I had just learned was a perfect copy of an early 21st century actress's slip from my lips and escape my attention for a second, I glanced over at the miniature cleric. Next to the Abbot was a window showing the bar nearest the HoloCom dance floor, and it centered on one of the new arrivals. His life so far - summed up in easily browsable points - was listed in plain text next to the window. Highlighted on his body were the outlines of weapons and electronic devices.

"Let him take his time. He might have been rejected for all I know. Leave the window, and show him up here if he asks for me. Same goes for the rest of them. Now beat it."

"Yes, sir."

That said, the Abbot was seemingly sucked into the table, robes flapping about him. The window followed the newcomer around the club.

Me, I did what any man would do, and proceeded to examine just how identical these sculpted twins really were.

[schreier]

Jax had been working for Martelo for the past 4 years. When he had been approached about the opportunity to work directly for the Boss, it was too good to pass up.

He knew he was early tonight - but he couldn't wait. This was his opportunity to get into the big time.

He wandered around the bar trying to find Martelo. He had been in the Carno once before and it was just as overwhelming this time. Beautiful women in every direction - it was all he could do to just remember why he was here.

On his way around one of the bars, he grabbed a drink. He smiled at a few of the girls as he continued to walk.

In the distance, between two of the best looking women in the place, he finally spotted the Hammer. He approached with a smile ...

"Martelo!"

[Asbjørn]

Yeah... Jax was the first to show up, of course. The kid never had the patience to wait for anything. He'd been running errands for me for a few years, could have been a f*cking first class racer if he'd had someone connected to back him up - and if there had been a serious racing scene to speak of, but spent the last years dodging cops and robbers on the streets in stead. Not a bad life, really, but not exactly a future either.

I'd added his name to the list on the off chance that the Boss would have uses for him, and he obviously had. The kid was about to start playing with the big boys, and he was grinning from ear to ear like a monkey on vapor.

I'd determined that there was no significant differences between my dates - at least not above the waist - and when I saw Jax making his way through the crowd towards the raised platform I was sitting on, I figured science would have to wait. I waved him over...

*****

As Jax pushes his way between dancing, flirting and shouting party goers, he can't help but notice that everywhere he looks there's some gorgeous hottie or muscle toned man, sculpted, off the shelf beauty for the rich crowd clubs like the Carmo cater to. The music is deafening, only slightly dampened when he passes through the effect zone of one of the table-mounted SonicShields.

A whiff of pheromone perfume momentarily distracts the young man, triggering a brief pulse of arousal in him before he again focuses on the short stairway up to Martelo's table. The big man fits his nickname perfectly, from the scarred face and dark eyes to his massive frame and strong, veined hands. His hair is longer than the current street fashion, the braid going down his back a feature more fitting in a business board room, but apart from that everything about him says 'ex con' in big letters.

As Jax passes through the virtual waterfall of calm that surrounds the platform - reducing the sounds of the club to a comfortable background noise and making the pleasant laughter of the two girls audible - Martelo smiles at him, and gestures to a seat.

"Jax! So you made the cut, huh? How you feeling, kid?"

[schreier]

"Sure seems that way."

Jax slid between the two red heads and took the offered seat. He couldn't help his hand sliding along the first one's lower back, but she didn't seem to mind.

As he moved, you could sense his pent-up energy - he was having trouble containing his entusiasm. His lithe form seemed to be in constant motion. He wore a long brown overcoat which he brushed to the side as he sat. He turned back towards Martelo;

"I really appreciate you dropping my name in like this. This could mean big things for me! My bike's been crying for some new coils. Do you have any clue what we'll be doing?"

[Asbjørn]

::rolleyes

"Come on, Jax..! How many times have I told you to relax a little? We'll talk business when the others arrive. You know I hate repeating myself."

A calloused hand reaches out, and with his finger he scoops up a small drop of the thick, pearly white substance seeping out of the leaves of the plant at the centre of the table.

"You gotta take the time to live a little, kid. This life is f*cking full of flowers by the road, and you're gonna end up one sad mother if you don't pick some..."

A wolf-like grin spreads across his face as he rubs his finger over the nearest girl's lips. She gasps as her lips absorb the Turnon, and Jax finds it a bit hard to focus on anything else as she licks the rest of the liquid off Martelo's finger.

What? Never heard of Turnon? Pearl? It was the hottest thing at the time. The new, kickass fashion drug out of Brazil that turned honest drugmerchants into f*cking gardeners, I swear! See, it worked like this: The plant's lifespan and productivity varied so you could get the cheapo version that lasted you a month or two and squeezed out maybe a dose a day. Your average household plant, you know? And you could get them up to f*cking tree size. We had a pretty decent bush behind one of the bars, and the six or seven drinks that had it as one of the ingredients were the top sellers that spring.

What was great about it, though: You could vector it any f*cking way you wanted. Eat it, mix it in a drink, shoot it, rub it on your body in various locations... You get the idea. In addition to being a mellow aphrodisiac, what it did was heighten sensation. It turned you on, gave you an extra edge, an extra sense, in a way. And if you weren't used to it, it would have you try to copulate with anyone and anything if you overdid it.

Side effects?

Yeah, of course there were. Who the hell ever heard of a drug without side effects? "May cause aggression while under the influence, numbness, muscle cramps and bladder control problems upon withdrawal. Addiction leads to impotence." I think that's what the catalogue said...

But anyway... I knew Jax wasn't an experienced user, so I probably shouldn't have tempted him like that. But he had to learn self control some way, right? ::wink I turned back to him while my finger was being licked, and added...

"This isn't for one job, Jax. You're signing up for life, or at least a career. I told you that. Silverstone needs loyal people, and there's tons of jobs for people like you and me. Could be anything from heavier courier jobs, hijackings, security, looking into problems for him, diplomacy and dealing with other movers, and the cops... I don't know if he's got any special plans for you, but I can tell you you won't get bored."

"The first jobs might seem pointless or boring, but be patient. I know you've been through some pretty serious tests already - and you probably don't even know about half of it - but the tests ain't over yet. You've been given a chance, but that don't mean you're in. Follow?"

[Heritage]

Buck Marshall saunters into Club Carmo wearing a clean white shirt, designer blue jeans and Italian boots the color of dried blood. He smiles in the doorway and takes a moment to bask in the heat of warm bodies and the smell of Latin women, twisting in the smoke like angels of lust.

*Man, I love Lisbon - why did it take me so long to find this heaven on earth?*

His senses for the moment satisfied, Marshall makes his way through the club and seems to gently touch every girl he passes, usually just lightly running his fingers down a toned back or graceful thigh. He murmurs softly in the ears of a few more, his words provoking giddy laughter from the beautiful dancers.

He brushes sandy brown hair out of his dark green eyes as he at last makes it to Martelo's table; he nods to both men and flashes a rakish grin at the Hammer's companions. He speaks with a smoky Southern accent, which he uses to full effect.

Evenin' all. My, my - looks like the party's started without me!

He indicates the Turnon plant with a nod.

Mind if I help myself? I hate havin' to catch up. ::wink

[Asbjørn]

The Abbot's window had been there before he showed up, of course, showing me all the necessary details about the next guy. Buck Marshall. One of the many who'd started a new life in the City of Sin. God only knows what he was running from when he first came here, but 'Buck' wasn't his real name, I can tell you that much. But who the f*ck cares, right? It's not like my mama called me Hammer either...

I smiled at his question, and replied

"Go right ahead, man. But I gotta warn you... I'm sending these two honeys away pretty soon, and I don't know about Jax here, but I sure as hell won't appreciate any of that attention from you..." ::wink

[Heritage]

"Go right ahead, man. But I gotta warn you... I'm sending these two honeys away pretty soon, and I don't know about Jax here, but I sure as hell won't appreciate any of that attention from you..."  ::wink

←

Buck snorts as he plunks down into a seat.

Oh, now that is what I call a buzzkill! ::laugh

He shakes his head sadly.

I suppose I shall have to make do with my own humble fare.

The Southerner digs a leather pouch from his back pocket and proceeds to deftly roll a joint, moistening the paper with quick little flicks of his tongue. He lights up and takes a long slow drag, then croaks:

Any a y'all want some of this?

He blows out a stream of blue fragrant smoke, finishing with a few playful smoke rings.

Ahh! Genuine Moroccan hash - accept no substitutes! ::wink

[schreier]

Jax looked at the newcomer - Buck - seemed a little preppy to be in this kind of club.

"Thanks gents - honestly, I'm gonna stick with your basics. Never been a big fan. Dulls the reflexes too much - it would get me killed."

Jax stood up and extended his hand to the new guy

"By the way, I'm Jax. And no matter what Martelo will say - no, I'm not interested in that attention either."

[Prince of Boredom]

Mateo stared down at his feet, frowned at the blood splatter on his new shoes. Then he frowned because that was all he could think about. He glanced back at the bed, made sure that he hadn’t left any evidence the cops would be able to trace back to him. He had been one of the best homicide detectives in the city once; he knew what to look for. Satisfied that he wouldn’t be discovered, he left the hotel room, pausing to force the taste of bile back down his throat. He’d seen plenty of murdered bodies, just not ones he’d killed. He remembered there was a time when private investigators were just hired to take pictures of girls cheating on their boyfriends; but he’d been hired to kill the slut and her lover. He tried to tell himself that they deserved it, they were scum and the city wouldn’t miss them. It helped, a little.

Mateo made his way to the closest whorehouse; he needed something to get his mind off of the dead bodies. It worked for about 20 minutes. Then he remembered tonight was his meeting with Martelo. He didn’t know much about him other than that he was yet another piece of the scum that seemed to gravitate to this city. But Manuel had set up the meeting, and Mateo knew better than to go against Manuel.

He’d been to the Carmo a few times when he was on the force, checking up on leads, interviewing suspects, but he’d always kinda ignored the overindulgence of it all. He did the same tonight. He grabbed the first goon he could find and asked for Martelo. After two or three tries, he finally found someone ‘willing’ to help and made his way through the virtual waterfall.

Mateo materialized on the other side of the waterfall, like a reject from an old movie. He wore a slightly crumpled black suit, the tie loosened around his neck, a brown trench coat and his shoes still showed the stains of blood. He smelled like cheap whiskey and even cheaper perfume, “Evening, I’m Mateo.”

[Asbjørn]

I shit you not. He looked like he'd slept in that suit, man! Wonder what he was thinking when he looked at himself in the mirror that night. "This is good, I look like a f*cking drunk."

I was tempted to tell him to straighten up right there and then, but I thought better of it. Too easy to gloat over the fallen...

Yeah. Fallen. He used to be a cop, but he got greedy. Then he got rich, and pretty soon he got locked up. That's the short version, of course, but I ain't here to give you his f*cking life story. Suffice it to say that he was shit out of luck and had nothing to lose. And some useful skills...

"Sit the f*ck down, man, before you fall over. You look like shit."

"This is Buck Marshall, this is Jax, and these are the girls. They were just leaving. Beat it, girls."

The twin redheads get up, one moving to help herself to another pearl, but Martelo's big hand stops her.

"Oh no... you're not starting without me. Be around, I'll pick you up when I'm done here." ::cool

Then a slap on her butt sends them both off into the crowded club, and the Hammer returns his attention to the men around the table. Reaching out for a taste of Buck's joint, he clears his voice and looks from Jax to Mateo and back again.

"Hey, it just occured to me! You two might f*cking know each other! At least i bet you were pretty damn close to running into each other a few times three or four years back. Of course, I guess it was mostly traffic and patrols you got in trouble with, huh, Jax?"

Finished with the smoke, he passes it on, or back the way it came if nobody else wants it.

[phoenix]

A young man cuts through the crowd and approaches Martelo’s table. There’s a Gypsy air to him, and his heritage doesn’t jump out at you, but he looks vaguely Latino. A pair of cool blue eyes indicates at least a slightly mixed bloodline. He is quite handsome, with the calm facial expression of one who cannot be bluffed, and who never gives anything away by accident. He also looks quite physically fit, and, like Jax, is wearing a long jacket. He assembles a white, even-toothed grin and prepares to level it at the departing women as he passes them, but as he sees Martelo’s gesture of affection, it fades back down to the confident half-smile.

He smiles at the assembled group and draws up a seat, not waiting to be acknowledged.

"Evening."

[Prince of Boredom]

"Sit the f*ck down, man, before you fall over. You look like shit."

"This is Buck Marshall, this is Jax, and these are the girls. They were just leaving. Beat it, girls."

Mateo sat down, ignoring Matelo's quip. He knew he looked like shit, and he didn't really care. What's the point in dressing up when you're meeting with the scum of the earth?

Mateo took a quick glance at the others; to the untrainied eye he was just nodding his head and acknowledging them, but in truth he was sizing them up. It was something he'd first learned on the force, to judge suspects, but it had been Manuel who'd taught him how to truly judge someone.

Martelo was definately someone to not be trifled with. His calloused hands and easy air belied one who had spent plenty of time in the joint, and kept his dignity in tact. The one called Buck was something of an enigma. High dollar Italian shoes to a meet of criminals? And his hands looked too smooth, like those of a piano player, or surgeon. Still, the word was Martelo knew his job, and he wouldn't have recruited him if he wasn't useful. Then there was the kid, too young to know this was stupid, too young to get that this was the end of the road, not the beginning. He wanted to grab the kid and tell him that this wasn't the place for fame and fortune, just a measly existence from one sleazy job working for scumbags to another. But hey, it was a free world, let the kid find out the hard way.

"Hey, it just occured to me! You to might f*cking know each other! At least i bet you were pretty damn close to running into each other a few times three or four years back. Of course, I guess it was mostly traffic and patrols you got in trouble with, huh, Jax?"

Mateo doesn't even glance up at the comment, "nope, never seen 'em. Probably a good thing too...for him."

Finished with the smoke, he passes it on, or back the way it came if nobody else wants it.

Mateo simply shakes his head in refusal of the joint, then,

A young man cuts through the crowd and approaches Martelo’s table. There’s a Gypsy air to him, and his heritage doesn’t jump out at you, but he looks vaguely Latino. A pair of cool blue eyes indicates at least a slightly mixed bloodline. He is quite handsome, with the calm facial expression of one who cannot be bluffed, and who never gives anything away by accident. He also looks quite physically fit, and, like Jax, is wearing a long jacket. He assembles a white, even-toothed grin and prepares to level it at the departing women as he passes them, but as he sees Martelo’s gesture of affection, it fades back down to the confident half-smile.

He smiles at the assembled group and draws up a seat, not waiting to be acknowledged.

"Evening."

Mateo, looks up, then shakes his head. There was always one, wasn't there? Another punk kid who thought this was a glamorous life. He'd seen plenty of 'em, thought they were cool, unfazeable, unbreakable... until he'd broken them. Everyone had a price, a breaking point, and the sooner you figured out where yours was, the better.

[phoenix]

"nope, never seen 'em. Probably a good thing too...for him."

[in reaction to the newcomer's quiet smile] Mateo, looks up, then shakes his head.

The newcomer, inwardly a little nonplussed by the crumpled-looking man's aggressive statements and head-shake as a greeting, broadens his one-sided smile a little more.

Jesus. No need to ask what brought that on..

He flashes a not-quite-friendly, knowing grin around the table.

"I'm Romeo."

The smile becomes slightly more personal and friendly as it settles on Buck.

"Hola, my friend. Are you a musician by any chance? You carry yourself like one."

[schreier]

Jax took in all the new-comers at once ... he had been worried that he would be it at first.

He took a quick mental run-down

Mateo - some kind of mafia goon or something? How would he know me?

Buck - looks like a southern yuppie? Weird group for him to be in

Romeo - a gypsy... Jax would be sure to watch his wallet with him

Definitly an interesting group

Jax watched as the new members of the group were acknowledging each other.

He had first decided to wait in the background and just observe but he couldn't take it any longer. He turned to Martelo and whispered:

"Is this everyone? Can we get started?"

[Asbjørn]

You ever seen that show, the Mariachis? This kid Romeo could have been straight off the set, man. Come to think of it, I think he even played the trumpet or something. Musician! He wasn't half bad, from what I heard, but that shit was never my style. I like a beat, you know?

Anyway, the thing about the Mariachis was that they were this band touring the TexMex areas, and they were all kickass brawlers or lethal shots with fancy guns in their guitar cases, who got themselves into trouble or helped some poor village against this episode's terrorizing gang. I sometimes think Romeo thought of himself that way.

But how the hell he'd ever fit a gun into that trumpet of his I'll never know...

With the girls gone, Martelo's expression changes slightly. His smile narrows, his eyes become more focused, and he seems to study the group intently, sometimes glancing down at the small holoscreen only he can see, maybe checking notes or backgrounds against each other.

He turns to face the stairs half a second before Romeo shows up, and gives him a brief nod as the kid takes a seat. Seemingly content for the moment to watch the interaction between the new crew, he calls up the Abbot again. The robed agent seems to rise serenly from the table, with a notepad in his hand.

"Drinks, gentlemen? On the house, for now."

He takes their orders and disappears, and Martelo leans back in his seat again.

"Is this everyone?  Can we get started?"

You know... I always knew it was that f*cking impatience that would get him killed. What? No, I'm coming to that. I'm telling this in chronological f*cking order, and that's a lot later, ok? Don't push me.

Anyway, I did my best to strip it off him, but even though he got better over time, he never lost it completely. At that point in his career the kid was having problems realizing that the job had already started, that he needed to get to know these people, that his f*cking life might depend on it some day. He was too action-focused. On the plus side, he knew it. It usually didn't take more than a look to back him down. So I set my eyes on him and gave him a stare that said "Shut the f*ck up kid, or say something useful. We're 'starting' when I say we do."

Of course it worked. It always worked. ::cool

[schreier]

As soon as Jax had said it, he knew he shouldn't have.

There were some very bad men in this group, and he didn't want to piss them off.

So I set my eyes on him and gave him a stare that said "Shut the f*ck up kid, or say something useful. We're 'starting' when I say we do."

Of course it worked. It always worked.

He got the message quickly and looked down at his feet. He started playing with his lucky medal, flicking it between each of his fingers on his right hand, moving it in an almost serpentine way.

The medal was all he had had from his father. Some kind of FSA fighter pilot, he'd gotten the medal for taking down an Aberrant or some crap that like. Jax didn't care what it had been received for, just that it came from his father.

After a couple seconds of flicking the medal through his fingers, he looked back up at the group with a little more confidence and a little more patience. Still flicking the medal through his fingers, he sheepishly smiled at Martelo and waited.

[Prince of Boredom]

...he calls up the Abbot again. The robed agent seems to rise serenly from the table, with a notepad in his hand.

"Drinks, gentlemen? On the house, for now."

Mateo glanced up, seemingly woken from a nap, "yeah, whiskey, neat."

Then the kid leaned over and whispered to Martelo. He didnt' hear the enitre question, but the gist was clear. The kid was anxious, excited. The look from Martelo implied that he knew the kid, had been expecting it. Mateo couldn't help feel sorry for the kid. But if the kid was here, he'd passed all of the same tests they'd put Mateo through, so he must be good at something.

The kid reminded him of a partner he'd had once. Young, full of energy and the innocence of youth; until one night in dowtown Lisbon when that exuberance had gotten him killed. Mateo decided he didn't want to see that happen to this kid, he was too young and naive, had too much life to live. He figured he'd have to keep an eye out for 'em, none of these other scumbags would.

Mateo glanced up as his whiskey was delivered and nodded to Jax, "So kid, what do you do?"

[schreier]

As Jax played with the medal, he looked over at Mateo.

Mateo glanced up as his whiskey was delivered and nodded to Jax, "So kid, what do you do?"

Jax smiled back,

"Well, I've been running 'merchandise' for Martelo for the last 4 years or so. Got a nice tricked out Tsunami cycle sitting out front in fact."

He smiled as he thought of his baby; the tsunami consistently took 80% of his earnings as he did everything he could to tweak it. He used it to race in the various street racing circuirts and hadn't lost in the last year.

"A little street racing here and there too" he said with a smile. "What about you?"

[Prince of Boredom]

Jax smiled back,

"Well, I've been running 'merchandise' for Martelo for the last 4 years or so. Got a nice tricked out Tsunami cycle sitting out front in fact."

He smiled as he thought of his baby; the tsunami consistently took 80% of his earnings as he did everything he could to tweak it. He used it to race in the various street racing circuirts and hadn't lost in the last year.

Mateo took a sip of whiskey and watched the kid. He was a runner, a wheelman. That explained the anxiety, why he was so fidgety. Mateo wasn't sure what a Tsunami was, he figured it must be one of those new crotch-rockets that came out when he was in prison. It didn't matter though; if Martelo had brought him here, he could probably drive just about anything.

"A little street racing here and there too" he said with a smile. "What about you?"

"Me? Well, I'm old, and I'm still alive. So I guess I know how to survive, and I know my way around the streets."

Mateo took another sip, then turned to the man in the expensive Italian shoes and raised a questioning eybrow.

[Heritage]

Buck shook any hands that were offered him, but otherwise decided to play it cool and vaguely mysterious, responding to most querries with little more than a smile and a knowing chuckle; the fact of the matter was, it was damn good hash, and he was having a hard time following the conversation. ::wink

Mateo took another sip, then turned to the man in the expensive Italian shoes and raised a questioning eybrow.

←

Snapped back to reality by Mateo's intense gaze, Buck finally managed to shake off his reverie.

Who, me? Well, I'm the Doctor, ain't I? Got the cure for ails ya, my friend; get you back on your feet in no time, you'll see.

He turned to the Hammer.

Irish coffee, strong, if they have it. Think I need a little more edge right now.

[phoenix]

"Drinks, gentlemen? On the house, for now."

Romeo nods.

"Yeah, can I get a cup of coffee and some garlic bread?"

He draws a few yuan out of a beat-up, hacky-sack wallet to pay for the bread, since Martello only offered to pay for drinks.

[Prince of Boredom]

Snapped back to reality by Mateo's intense gaze, Buck finally managed to shake off his reverie.

Who, me? Well, I'm the Doctor, ain't I? Got the cure for ails ya, my friend; get you back on your feet in no time, you'll see.

A quick look of surprise shot across Mateo's face. A doctor? Sure, there was no denying that having a doctor could be beneficial, but it kinda made you wonder what kind of doctor would be signing on to a job like this. Either he wasn't very good, or his lack of ethics had caught up with him and he was on the run. Either way, Mateo wasn't sure he liked the idea.

Romeo nods.

"Yeah, can I get a cup of coffee and some garlic bread?"

Mateo glanced over at the newest member of their rather motley crew. He'd already decided he didn't like the guy, but he figured he'd have to work with him. He took another sip of whiskey and nodded his head towards Romeo, "So Shakespeare, what's your story?"

[phoenix]

"So Shakespeare, what's your story?"

"Me? I just got tired of being a holo star", quips the grinning Latino. Then he shrugs.

"Force man, I guess. Guns and muscle."

With a smirk, he rolls up a sleeve of his stylish open shirt and flexes impressively, then sighs.

"To tell you the truth though, I've still got a lot to learn. I was the top dog with the guys I used to run with, but that doesn't go very far around here, know what I mean?

"I'm not saying I'll let you down - but you guys should know that there's guys out there that'll cut me down like a hot knife through butter."

[schreier]

"I'm not saying I'll let you down - but you guys should know that there's guys out there that'll cut me down like a hot knife through butter."

←

Jax looked back at Romeo after that comment. It relieved him a little to hear someone else admit to being somewhat inexperienced.

"I'm sure you'll do fine. And hey - if not, I'll get you out lickity split!" he said with a smile. "Only thing I'm not sure about - my bike's made for 1. I can hold 2. Any more than that and I'm outta luck. Hopefully they have something I can drive. Hammer," he said, looking at Martelo, "any idea on what kinda support we'll be getting??"

[Asbjørn]

Mateo glanced up, seemingly woken from a nap, "yeah, whiskey, neat."

Irish coffee, strong, if they have it. Think I need a little more edge right now.

"Yeah, can I get a cup of coffee and some garlic bread?"

He draws a few yuan out of a beat-up, hacky-sack wallet to pay for the bread, since Martello only offered to pay for drinks.

The small Abbot-hologram juts down the orders on his notepad, shaking his head at Romeo's offered money. Then he disappears, again seeming to fall madly downwards as a bottomless pit opens beneath him.

A few minutes later a young waitress dressed in the sexy black miniskirt parody of a nun's habit comes up to the table, placing the drinks on the table in front of each of the men.

" [...] Hammer," he said, looking at Martelo, "any idea on what kinda support we'll be getting??"

"Depends what you mean by 'support'," Martelo shrugs his broad shoulders.

"Manpower? Not much. For most of the jobs we'll be doing, you're it. Weapons and vehicles? Depends on the job, doesn't it? No point in discussing hardware unless you know what you're gonna use it for. But this isn't a 'bring-your-own' kind of party, you don't have to worry about that."

"That said, the Boss may be rich, but that don't mean he's got all kinds of stuff lying around for you to get hard over. We've got good enough techies to set you up with the right tools for the job, but like you say," - he nods to Romeo - "there's always a bigger fish. And that's usually the guys with access to top of the line, cutting edge military grade equipment."

"That's not us. Yet."

[Prince of Boredom]

"Force man, I guess. Guns and muscle."

With a smirk, he rolls up a sleeve of his stylish open shirt and flexes impressively, then sighs.

"To tell you the truth though, I've still got a lot to learn. I was the top dog with the guys I used to run with, but that doesn't go very far around here, know what I mean?

"I'm not saying I'll let you down - but you guys should know that there's guys out there that'll cut me down like a hot knife through butter."

Mateo raised an eyebrow, it wasn't the response he'd been expecting. Maybe the new kid did understand his place in the world; that would be a refreshing change.

"I'm sure you'll do fine kid, as long as you don't mind getting those pretty clothes dirty..."

The middle-aged man once again surveyed the people that had been assembled. Wheelman, doc, muscle, and of course, the Hammer. Something was missing, a face man, someone to run this crew. Mateo wondered if that was the one they were waiting on, then a sick thought entered his head. Maybe that was why he was here. He certainly had the experience, hell, he was probably old enough to be the wheelman's father. He knew the streets, knew the way things worked, and how to get things done.

A smirk found it's way to his mouth. That would just be perfect. How much farther could he be pushed down into the muck? Not that long ago he'd been a respected homicide detective, and now what? Mateo wondered if there was any farther to fall....

[phoenix]

"I'm sure you'll do fine kid, as long as you don't mind getting those pretty clothes dirty..."

Eyeing Mateo's own ensemble, Romeo cracks a white-toothed grin.

"Teach me."

[malkboy]

Perhaps to everyone else except Celeste this place was just a busy club floor, but from her own point of view this was a little slice of heaven. Not only for all the opportunities that presented themselves to her, but for the one she had already taken. And now that she could be "fashionably" late, it was time for Celeste to go meet the rest of the new crew.

Stopping halfway up the stairs, Celeste brushes a few locks of her curly raven hair behind her ears then goes about readjusting her tight red halter top and then with a smile walks up with the rest of the crew.

"Hey boys, have any room for me up here? I promise you won't regret it," said Celeste as soon as Martelo came into view. Striding into the group with her leather clad legs, Celeste didn’t even bother waiting for an answer to the question before slipping into a seat right next to Buck. “I hope I didn’t arrive too late for all the fun,” she thought aloud.

[Asbjørn]

Eyeing Mateo's own ensemble, Romeo cracks a white-toothed grin.

"Teach me."

Touché...

Luckily, that's just when the Abbot's window flashed at Celeste's entrance. Else, I'd probably have been tempted to throw in a few remarks of my own...

It wasn't often you saw someone like Celeste in the Carmo. Anywhere else she wouldn't attract much attention at all, but here she stuck out like a sore thumb among the styled, moulded and carefully arranged images of the rich and beautiful. She moved ok, of course, not drawing much attention to herself, but somehow it was just that attitude that made her noticed.

To me, anyway. And the security system probably would have singled her out based on her movement pattern even if it hadn't been looking for her. Then again, maybe not. She wasn't working that night, anyway.

Celeste was the only girl of the new crew - at that point - and a damn good pickpocket looking for bigger catches. She'd outgrown her own crew, and came to see me about a job a while back. I didn't need any pickpockets at the time, and I told her to expand a little. Think outside the f*cking box, you know?

Lots of streetgirls came around asking about work those days, but Celeste was the only one who didn't offer to blow me, so when she returned the second time around - and did a better job of selling herself - I gave her a chance. Turned out she fit the profile...

"Hey boys, have any room for me up here?  I promise you won't regret it," said Celeste as soon as Martelo came into view.  Striding into the group with her leather clad legs, Celeste didn’t even bother waiting for an answer to the question before slipping into a seat right next to Buck.

Those first seconds are crucial, you know. It's right there and then you see if having a pair of tits on the team is going to be an asset or just a distraction to the guys. I had no doubts Celeste would be a pro about it, Mateo I wasn't worried about, and she wasn't pretty enough for Buck. But I wasn't so sure about Jax and Romeo. They were both young, cocky and out to prove themselves. Potential heroes, if you know what I mean...

“I hope I didn’t arrive too late for all the fun,” she thought aloud.

"The fun's just starting..."

The Hammer leans forward as he ups the soundscreen, blocking all sound from leaving the platform and dulling the outside music till it's nothing more than a faint, pulsing heartbeat. Gesturing around the table, he introduces the latecomer to the boys.

"Celeste, this is Buck; among other things, our field medic, Jax; courier and wheelman, Romeo; specially imported TexMex tough guy in training, and Mateo; street veteran and ex-cop. Say hi."

[malkboy]

"Celeste, this is Buck; among other things, our field medic, Jax; courier and wheelman, Romeo; specially imported TexMex tough guy in training, and Mateo; street veteran and ex-cop. Say hi."

"Hi guys. It'll be a real pleasure to be working with each and every one of you. Since Martelo filled me in about each of you, I'm an personal acquisition specialist," and with a large grin, "That is I personally acquire what is wanted from a person. I haven't gotten my hand caught in someone elses pocket yet, if you catch my drift."

She glances over at Buck continuing with the cheshire smile, "A medic, eh? Just don't think about asking for a physical and we'll be perfectly fine."

Her eyes then wander over the rest of them, "And boy don't you look like you're ready to take off, Jax. It's just a meeting, save the nerves until later."

[schreier]

"And boy don't you look like you're ready to take off, Jax.  It's just a meeting, save the nerves until later."

←

Jax was a little taken aback, both by this new members appearance and by her skills. As a kid, he had always been a sucker for a pretty face; heck, that was how he had gotten into the whole racing thing in the first place - to impress the girls.

He had to remember though, this was the big time. He wasn't racing some other punk kid. Martelo trusted him enough to give him this opportunity and he wasn't going to let him down.

"Not a problem gorgeous. I'll get ya where ya need to be and then get you out ASAP." he said with a mental grin. I'm a poet! he thought.

He made a very conscious effort to calm himself down. He would be driving soon enough.

[phoenix]

"Hey boys, have any room for me up here? I promise you won't regret it," said Celeste as soon as Martelo came into view. Striding into the group with her leather clad legs, Celeste didn’t even bother waiting for an answer to the question before slipping into a seat right next to Buck. “I hope I didn’t arrive too late for all the fun,” she thought aloud.

Oh brother.

The dark-haired man nods politely at the newcomer, then looks up at Martelo, patiently waiting for the Hammer to cut to the chase.

[Heritage]

Buck grins widely at Celeste as he grabs his Irish coffee.

A thief, huh? Nice to have you onboard, sugar. And don't worry, I know how to behave in professional situations - say, you want a hit off this joint? ::wink

[Asbjørn]

Jax was a little taken aback, both by this new members appearance and by her skills.  As a kid, he had always been a sucker for a pretty face; heck, that was how he had gotten into the whole racing thing in the first place - to impress the girls.

Jax actually had me worried a second there. Sure, Celeste was a nice girl and all that, but it was gonna take surgery to make her a knockout, specially with that street-aged face of hers. Still, I could see it took an effort of will for the kid to take his eyes off her. I guess he really needed to get laid that night.

[...] - say, you want a hit off this joint? ::wink

"Later, Buck. Put it out."

Martelo makes himself comfortable while he waits the .2 seconds before he's got everybody's attention. Drink in hand, he looks from each person around the table to the next before he smiles and says.

"Welcome aboard, people."

He raises his glass for a toast, then downs the contents. Rubbing his chin he orders a new drink before he gets down to business.

"Right. I bet you're all dying to know what's going on, huh? Why is Silverstone hiring new people? What's he looking for? Who is this Silverstone guy, anyway? What kind of jobs will I be doing? For what kind of money? And with who? I know the questions - hell, I've been on your side of the table, too! - and I'll try to answer them."

"As you may or may not know, Alain Silverstone holds the controlling interest in a number of small companies involved in computers, holotech and VR construction. Now, he's got his hand in a few other trades as well, but that's mostly for funding all his pet projects in that field. I guess I don't have to tell you competition can be hard, with major transnationals dominating the market and little or no authorities to control it. In this town, it's also unregulated, which makes R&D and trade a lot easier."

"There's a lot of wheeling and dealing between the various companies and interests. Experimental tech and research data are being bought or stolen all over the place, and infiltrators and spies are common. That's where you come in. With no allegiances and no hidden agendas. Fresh, new blood."

The Hammer smiles and reaches under his seat for a gym bag placed there. He pulls out five minicomps - each one an exact duplicate of the indvidual ones worn around the table - and hands them around.

"These have the best shielding and encryption you get in Lisbon these days. Feel free to transfer your own shit, but from now on you're using these and nothing else. The built-in agent will give you a rundown of the specs later. "

"So... About the job. You'll be doing a lot of different things, actually, some more suited to your skills and specialties than others. I need all-rounders, not one-trick ponys, so I want you to keep an open mind and cooperate. I don't want any 'I'm a pickpocket, I don't want to shoot anybody!' or 'Drive? you're the driver here!', ok?"

"You might be asked to do security jobs, act as messengers, spy on the competition, intercept transports, investigate leaks in our own organization, remove said leaks, and so on and so forth..."

The big man leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, muscles stretching the fabric of his shirt.

"Questions so far?"

[phoenix]

The big man leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, muscles stretching the fabric of his shirt.

"Questions so far?"

Romeo nods, holding up one finger while he hurries to swallow a poorly timed bite of garlic bread.

"Yeah. Are we getting paid on commission or retainer?"

[Asbjørn]

"So far, I said. I'm coming to that." ::wink

[schreier]

"Questions so far?"

Jax looked around. He was always inquisitive but wasn't sure this was the right time. The silence was killing him and he couldn't stop himself from asking;

"No questions at all Hammer, except what do you need us to do now? Just be on call?"

[Heritage]

"Later, Buck. Put it out."

Buck politely stubs out the joint, and puts the resulting roach into his shirt pocket.

Martelo makes himself comfortable while he waits the .2 seconds before he's got everybody's attention. Drink in hand, he looks from each person around the table to the next before he smiles and says.

"Welcome aboard, people."

Buck raises his coffee then takes a sip. He listens intently to Martelo and takes his new minicomp and clips it to his belt.

"Questions so far?"

←

The Southerner shrugs.

None yet, señor; I'm all ears. ::smile

[Asbjørn]

"No questions so far. Good." Martelo smiles after a brief pause. Then he turns to Romeo.

"Ok. Money. That's a fair question. It works like this: You'll be standing by a lot of the time - except you might get some patrol duties, taking care of a club or something - and for that you'll get a regular income. That's not my f*cking responsibility, and I don't f*cking care how it works. You'll have to take that kind of wage negotiation individually with the Boss. We're not a f*cking union here..."

"However, you'll also be doing more irregular jobs, which is more my field. For that you'll get a bonus in each case, depending on the importance of the job, the risks involved and how good a job you do."

"In addition there's medical expenses, legal services, equipment and maintenance, education and exercise... I think you'll be happy." ::cool

As if scanning for signs of unhappiness, the Hammer looks into the eyes of each person around the table. Then he reaches into his jacket - approximately where everybody present expect his shoulder-holstered gun to be - and pulls out a small, matte black pen-shaped object that at least appears to be harmless. He rolls it between his fingers a few seconds - his surprisingly deft movements an almost exact copy of Jax's earlier playing with his medallion - before he continues.

"As for right now... Can somebody get that f*cking plant off the table? ...you're here now because of this woman."

He points the pen at the table, and a hologram of a southern european woman in her late twenties appears over it. Her black hair is short and almost spiky, and vaguely shaded, frameless glasses shield her orientally made up eyes. As the hologram zooms out, she's seen to be wearing a one-piece dark green office suit, broad shoulders exaggerating her already athletic build.

"Meet Kaylani Ferreira. She's the assistant of Dr Juan Philips, head of research and development for Mirage Simulations, which is one of our major competitors. She's a systems engineer by education, and is something of a rising star in Mirage. At the moment she's untouchable, but she might be available for recruitment at a later time. She's got a growing addiction to artificial stimulants, and is a regular here at the Carmo. That's not why we're interested in her."

"She's expecting a... visitor. Sometime tonight or tomorrow. We know he's coming by commercial transport from the FSA, but not the exact time. However - judging by her previous behavior in similar circumstances - she will want to pick him up personally. The 'package' is an old colleague of Mr Silverstone's, and Mirage is hoping to make use of him in their research. We will not let this happen."

The holoscreen next to Martelo grows to a one square meter window floating in the air behind his shoulder. The image is of the HoloCom dance floor, and zooms in on Ms Ferreira, now dressed in a far from modest skintight bodysuit and dancing seemingly entranced in the music.

"When she gets the word - tonight or tomorrow - you follow her and intercept the transport whatever way you choose. I've got two maglevs waiting for you up top."

With that, Martelo goes quiet, allowing for more questions.