Amyah was tense and ready for everything! She immediatly opened the door of the Van to help Eddie unload the unconscious idiot Bo and the "Precious Cargo Box" as quickly and smoothly as was humanly (Posthumanly? Both the Bakunite Chimera and the Haqqislamite Genemodded BARELY registered as "Purestrain Homo Sapiens" anymore. . .!!) possible. . . . .!!! Before immediatly fishing out Her trusty Field Medkit to assuage the Vital Signs of the Criminal Fixer (and eventually administer, by Hypodermic Syringe, a personalized mix of Sedatives and Willpower Sappers custom-tailored to Mr. Ryan bio-system) She "Total % Opened" the Admin Privileges of Her personal Comlog. . . By doing so She allowed Her Geist, Ka - Ba - Sekhem, to extend the Range of her Hyperadvanced Sensor Suite to the squadmates in the Van, so that they would be able to React to any potential threat while She was busy playing "Bad Nurse" !!
Impi climbs into the SUV along with his teammates and a sleepy-time Bo Ryan, sending a message to Saito over the tacnet: [Saito - I've mapped out most of the network at the community but I've hit a wall and we'll probably need to do some ground work. I can knock out the admin node and we can attempt to get creds on-site when it's brought back online, it's been to much for me to crack into without serious equipment. We're currently on the move with Bo Ryan and a pile of evidence so you'll have to stand by, might be a while]
Everybody loads up and Konrad nonchalantly maneuvers the SUV out of the paddock and away from the racetrack. They find a nice secluded park away from any prying eyes. Park Bo Ryan starts to wake up... he slowly realizes the predicament he's in. "Oh, shit." He says barely audible.
"Wakey-wakey, You sleepy-head ! GOOD MORNING. . . . .And WELCOME to the Fiery Hellish Pit of Ta'Ut, where the Ma'At will weight Your Heart on the Scale of the Gods. . . . .and if Yours will weight a little more than a Feather, then Ammitt The Infernal Beast will eat You, digest You and then defecate You to be regenerated again. . .and Again. . .AND AGAIN !!" "But, maaayyyybeee You are a mit NOT interested in Ancient Egyptian Theology, so I offer You a choice, as is just and proper from a Gentlewoman like I'm I. . ." "You WILL TELL SURELY ALL the I, and My handsome companions wants to aks You, but SUUUUREEEELLYYY You fancy Yourself as an Hard-Boiled, Tough-As-Nails Fixer that will NEVER compromise the Clients, so PROBABLY We will need to be. . . . .THOROUGH. . .In our let's say Friendly Encouragement of Your cooperation. . .!!" "What will be, Mister-Bo-Ryan-Not-Interested-In-Gorgeous-Odalisques, the LEFT Hand. . .or the RIGHT Hand. . .??" "I beg You pretty, Pretty, PRETTY pleeeeeaaaseee. . .choose the Right !!!" . . . . . Amyah had a cruel, sadistic glint (of the kind that is NOT a recital mask, but from TRUE Manic Zealotry !!!) on Her otherwise beautiful Deep Blue Eyes, sparkling like the "Azure Gold" of the Egyptian Pharaohs Jewelry, (and even hued to match the weird, exotically beautiful shine of Her long Raven-Maned luscious Hair !!). . . And, MAYBE was a trick-of-the-light of the dimly illuminated van, but Her complex array of Tattoos, drawn in a scintillating Emerald Pigment, SEEMED as if they were subtly shifting, from the majestic, awe-inspiring Imagery of the Righteous Pesedjet Gods (Sun-God Ra, Falcon-Headed Horus, Horned but Gorgeous Isis, Wise-Eyed Toth with the head of an Ibis) to the terrible, infernal Taut Gods of the Egyptian Netherworld (Hyena-Faced Set, Apophys the Night Dragon, hideous Bes the Dwarf and cruel-looking Lion War God Anhur !!!) engaged in acts of unfathomable, senseless depravity and wicked cruelty. . . On Her RIGHT hand the crazed zealot (?) held a big, menacing Hypodermic Syringe whose Transparent Tank was filled with creepy luminous mix of chemicals, slowly sloshing with a sinister sound. . . But on the LEFT was easily grasped, in a firm surgical hold typical of expert surgeons, a Mono-Scalpel of razor sharpness; just as She was quite proficient of the Interrogation Methods of, first the Haqqislamite Special Forces, and, then the Moderator Vice Police of Bakunin, the Monofilament Edge Chirurgeon Blade was held at the right distance, and angle, to NOT be easily reached by the crook, blocked in the Central Position of the van by the buxomy Middle-Eastern Beauty, the deceptively strong-muscled Eddie and the broad-shouldered Zulu, Impi, while Konrad, their dedicated driver was ready at the wheel to intervene, far distant from Bo Ryan should a DESPERATE ploy to be attempted. . . . . . . . All-In-All the gorgeous Bourakite REALLY wanted nothing more than CARVE "Hyeroglyphs Of Infamy" on the Perp's Face, but that COULD have come LATER if needed; She knew that Submondo Middlemen very OFTEN preferred a Quick Death to the Issues of their Bosses taking umbrage at spilling the beans, at least buying a short reprieve should the Captors had the Time, and Resources, to hook the EVENTUAL Cube to a Quantronic Data-Driver to analyze the Brainwaves Pattern Contents. . . The Hypodermic was filled with a powerful mix of Sedatives (of the Type that forced Awake Somnolence, NOT Deep Sleep !!), Mild Muscle Relaxants (to stop EVEN Biografted Myomar Implants, but NOT stop Heart Tissues or Pulmonary Power !!) and some Speak-Inducing Hypnodrugs (that would have made VERY difficult to resist inquiries). . . . . . . . The Cocktail-Mix was low-key and able to be better custom-tailored, as She had NOT YET the time to Synch with an EVENTUAL Biomonitor hooked to the Vitals Reader of the Comlog; Her trusty Pharmacopeia Medikit Bag was nearby, ready to provide with the right Chemicals to add. . .
[ Note: changes in font size are to indicate Eddie's speaking volume. ] "Yes. Thank you for not doing that, yet, Mister Ryan, the smell is very distinctive and I have further social appointments this evening." Eddie's made sure that the YJ-applied social auras indicating that both he and the lovely combat medic are very visible in the current lighting. He's also speaking with the force of a striking snake, powered by the same from-the-diaphragm force a martial arts kiai uses. Or a Drill Instructor's parade-ground command voice. "Here's the deal: You're way too obvious in how you have been operating. Bad luck shouldn't have a pattern. I don't particularly want you, I want the people paying you. You were simply the loose thread to grab and start pulling, because the only practical way for someone to rig the race is by tampering with the regulation chips, and you are the only person who handles them. This makes you a single-point failure, and therefore Suspect Number One. So, we tried for a polite conversation first, but you didn't want to talk. More, you didn't want to talk in a way that practically screamed I'm doing something that I need to conceal." Eddie sighs, like this is way too much effort for a simple crime, and greatly reduces how much force he's putting into his voice, down to a conversational tone that's not supposed to carry far. "So here we are, doing things the less-than-polite way." His voice picks up a bit from a theatrical sotto voce, but is still conversational and without the force he was putting into it earlier. "Nice stuff in your trailer, by the way. Costs way more than you make on your salary at the race, though, which is really not how someone that is the single point of failure in rigging the races should be living. This is going to be very embarrassing to the audit department at HSGP corporate. You should have listened to the Druze about how to not be obvious." "Anyways," Eddie shakes his head and changes gears, "I don't particularly want you. I want the people who hired you. If that's just the Druze team, well, fine. I can act on that, or more likely I can turn you over to Mister Chao's tender ministrations if I don't think you have been honest with me. I have an appointment with him later today, anyway." "If you got trapped, blackmailed into something, well, let me just say that I know some people that can work miracles with new identities, or that may hire you anyway, knowing that you have been stupid. Especially if that lets them have something on a ... business competitor. It should be obvious where I'm from, just from this wonderful social aura tag the locals were so kind to give me," Eddie waves at it with his hand farthest from Bo, "so you know what I'm talking about." "So, let's keep this a polite and mess-free conversation, shall we? I know you have been well-paid to swap the regulation chips, so let's start with how they got you to take a bribe that would cost you not only your current job but almost any other job requiring any level of trust."
Park Bo stares wide eyed at Eddie and Amyah who barrage him with threats and questions. Then he's starts getting confused and laughs at some of the accusations leveled at him. "Hired? Blackmailed? Bribed? Being dumb? Damn, you all know nothing. Really, you don't." He then gets more somber realizing he's just going to piss you all off, "I wasn't hired, bribed, or blackmailed to do what I'm doing. I'm just following orders and a nice legal bonus to do it. I'm trusted to do exactly what I'm doing."
"Legal to arrange the outcome of races, where people are gambling on the outcomes? That's a new one on me. This isn't professional wrestling, Mister Ryan, where it's all scripted out ahead of time and nobody gambles on it." "So explain this to me, including how it's legal. I'm sure we could sell this idea back on Bakunin for some good money." "But I know some people who are going to be very unhappy with whoever paid you to rig the races, so it would be very good for you, personally, to name some names to give to them."
Park Now Ryan treats Eddie as the dumb one it seems, "As I said I'm just doing what I'm told to do. No outside party, that I know of, has told me to do anything. If you look at my accounts I don't get paid by anyone but the HSGP. Also, did I say it was legal? No. I said I'm paid legally... and there's many ways to do that." He thinks over Eddie's last threat, "Oh, is that so. Personally, I'll take my chances with you then my bosses."
"AAAaaaannd this is the winner, Ladies & Gentlemen ! Our contender did NOT choose the Right Hand. . . and NEITHER the Left Hand. . . WHAT A BRAVE Laddie . . .He selected the Spectators Specials. . . . .THE THIRD SECRET OPTION !!" "HOOORAY FOR MR. RYAN !!!" . . . . . And with this Amyah put back the Mono-Scalpel in the First-Aid Field-Medikit, (but kept the Sedative Syringe ready, just in case !!) and extracted the long, curved Gumia Crescent Knife, embossed with the Emblems of Righteous War God Horus. . . The Bronze-Like finishing of the weirdly shaped "Sacrificial Dagger" glinted malevolently in the dim lit of the Van Interior. . . "Listen, KNUCKLEHEAD ! I give You this ONLY warning !! YOUR BOSSES ARE NOT HERE, but WE ARE !!!" But first, my handsome dear Zulu Hacker, I don't like AT ALL this gumpty attitude. . . . .Is as if He is recording a Script to show His bosses that He is a Ultra-Reliable Middlemen. . .!!" "Snap-Shut FREEZE His fucking Comlog. . .and His fucking Geist. . . . .and then, pretty please, Data-Frisk virtually EVERYTHING of His Social Halo!!" "Maybe He is recording stuff, and store it in the Cube, if He have one, to justify misdemeanour to the Chiefs of the Conspiracy, just to AVOID to be put in a Sex-Slave Body in some Bondage-Sadomaso Club for Sodomites Alien Morat Xenorgorillas !!!"
Konrads thoughts: That Lady is fuckin scary, better always keep an escape route when you are alone with her. She is even more crazy than that Ann Boney fan girl from the Zeta cluster in the Human Edge system whos hacking with knifes at her subordinates when she isnt pleased. And simple wrong breathing can piss her off.
"Your bosses, Mister Ryan?" Eddie manages to sound very surprised indeed. "Well, color me surprised that it's the HSGP staff that are rigging the race. You see, I'd expected that it was organized crime types rigging the race, given that a number of long-odds wagers kept winning, and that's typical for organized crime to be playing those odds. It's more typical for the Race Organizers to want to push either a fan favorite or, better yet, a pair of rivals. After all, that drives viewership numbers up, which makes sponsors happy." [ Crap, Impi, get on the line with Agent Lan, use my name, we need a legal financial inquiry on this ASAP! If someone other than HSGP has sent money to Mister Ryan, I need to know about it NOW!!! ] - on the unit cybercomms. "There is a reason it's never allowed for someone to bet on events that they are personally involved in, so you had better hope, for your sake, that you haven't been gambling on the outcome of races, Mister Ryan. If you have, there absolutely isn't any damn thing I can do to protect you. Though if you haven't been gambling on the outcomes, I'm quite confident that the local bookies would love to talk to you directly, and probably won't even do any damage to your person. I am willing to stand some surety about not doing massive damage to you if you've been smart and not bet on any races. I may even be able to keep it down to chemically-enhanced interrogation, though I gotta admit those aren't any fun, either." [ Note that I'm still planning on dragging this chump along for my conversation with Mister Chao. I'm absolutely certain Mister Chao will have some interesting things to say about what Mister Ryan (and Ryan's bosses) have been up to. ]
Staying still waiting for the call is becoming too much for Saito. He gets moving once he hears the communique from Eddie. Shit! Sounds like there's a development over there. Heading off to the car to grab a satchel bag with some tools in it. You guys and gal with have to sitrep me soon. Either way. Impi. I need that blackout asap while you handle that other matter. I'll take it from there. Be on standby to reboot the system and insert my credentials and fake ID when the call comes. Reaching the car. Saito grabs his equipment out. I'm on standby until @sonicReducer sends that hacking program through.
[Impi, Saito. . . Maybe this idiot there has some Access Privilege to the Yakuza-Triad Compund. . .?? If they are His "Local Assetts" maybe some encrypte security comms could be useful. . . Could be something easy like scrolling down the Com-Log Chronology. . . . .or needing a "Data-Rape" of the Geist, deflowering the Firewalls like a Drunken Kum on Wedding Night. . .!! . . . . . Konrad, My handsome Space Pirate, my Human Edge Buccaneer plying the Void-Lanes ! Is everything right ?? You seem remarkably silent. . . . .maybe You fancied more to have that Idiot of Bo Ryan walking on a plank with a Thermal Sabre pointed at the back. . . What is that You Cosmo-Reavers employ, in lieu of Sharks to throw idiots to ?? A metal pit with those FASCINATING Asteroid-Eater "Space Ticks" seems appropriate. . . Keelhauling AROUND a Spaceship Hull seems a MIT too excessive even for this Pompous Ass of an Imbecile. . . But maybe if You have a Cube Recording of a Sailor that displeased Your former Captain, then we could LOOP Mr. Boh in a "Virtual Recurring Hell" and will sing-song like a Desert Sparrow from Bourak. . .!! Will be MAYBE even worse that the Ass-Violator Morats that I describe beforehand. . . . .Not that I had the occasion to try Sodomite Xeno Monkeys. . . . .even if there was that boisterous Baboon Chimera Pornstar on that Praxis Movieset. . . . . . . . Hrrrmm! Sorry, digressing too much!! Let's bask in the spectacle of Handsome Eddie working His social magic]
[Actually i am not a man of murder and torture myself, thats why i ended up as a pilot and most things i know wouldnt be possible in time. As putting him in an escape pod and watching him until he suffocates is a bit extravagant and i doubt we can call the Space Pirate Amazon Catgirls that would rape him to death. I tried to work with crews that wouldnt kill the other crews and passangers because any authority will hunt you down and put your head on a pike.]
[Did NOT wanted to insult You or Your former career, My dear "Kaptain Konrad". . .Sorry if I mispoke. . .!! But in Bourak we have a BAD REP about "Human Edge Space Pirates" methods, as is the Yuan-Yuan that often works for ROUNDING UP the "Letter-Of-Marque" Corsairs of Haqqislamite Origin. . . Yuan-Yuan are Violent Bloodthirsty Thugs, but are SMART enough to KILL and EXTRACT Cubes from whose that could be Ransomed back by Interested Backers. . . . .and I could PERSONALLY attest that if they MORTALLY wound a Cubeless, like some Security from Ariadna, or Brawlers poor enough to be JUST "Atek Hobos with a Rusty Shotgun" they would TRY to stabilize the poor sod, and put it INTO ICE. . . Speaking of Haqqislamite Corsairs some are WORSE than ANY Human Edge "Space Reaver" as they are FILTHY BANDITS when they have NOT a Letter of Marque signed by a respected Silk Lord "Merchant Prince"; they USUALLY buy those "Popsicle Hibernated Captives" from Yuan-Yuan "Merciful Cares" and EITHER thaw them when Crew is Scarce OR await to sell them to the HIGHEST Bidder. . . . .!!! Para-Legal Pseudo-Slavery is an UNFORTUNATE reality in Bourak, especially in "Fringe Borderlands" where is the Local Kum Khan or Well-Armed Silklord to BE THE LAW !! So, I repeat, SORRY if I came out as a Condescending Bitch (well, sorry about the "Condescending". . . . .could NOT in Total Honesty say that I'm NOT a "Bitch-Always-In-Heat" !!) as is My NATIVE HOMELAND to be Hypocrital "Tortuga Haven" for unscrupolous Space Pirates. . . . .!!!] . . . . . Then, with a sigh, Amyah sheated again in Her Combat Harness the curved Razor-Sharp Arab Knife; then smiled happily (and TOTALLY artificially !!) with an EVIDENT fake voice tone to Eddie (JUST to FURTHER reinforce the "Psycho Sado Nurse" angle). . . . . . . . "So, Handsome Team Leader, NO BLADE CARVING on Mr. Ryan pretty face. . . .Awwww! (sad puppy eyes) !!" "And then Chemical Interrogation it is. . . . .!!!" "Tell Me, Bo-Not-Interested-In-Gorgeous-Babes, do You have some Pharmacological Allergy that Your caring Para-Medic need to know of ???" . . . . . While saying so, she FAKE smiled to Bo Ryan, and the Set-God-of-Darkness Tattoo on the visible left side of her Throat seemed as if to scowl to the Fixer Middleman, as if trying to convey to the Captive a sort of "Should-Have-Taken-The-Knife" nonverbal message. . .!! She opened the Medikit Backpack and extracted some further Glowing Vials, some of a Icy, Cruel Bluish Neon, and other of Sickly Palettes of Greenish-Yellow. . .
Impi has been watching Eddie and Amyah 'handling' Ryan with an impassive expression, although internally he was telling himself to never, ever make either of these people angry. A large part of him was wishing for a vac suit and a nice, friendly airlock to jump out of. He nods at Eddie when requested to open a line to Agent Lan. [Contacting Agent Lan now Eddie] Impi has taken the liberty of recording all the goings on since grabbing Ryan, just in case. Edit: Impi pulls up a second command screen, keeping an ear open on Eddie and Amyah's conversation with Ryan. "Time to turn off the lights" he thinks. [Saito, popping blackout program now on the admin node. Stand by] Ok hacking rolls First roll = 14 second = 5 2 successes. I'll have to burn one Momentum for the blackout effect on the node.
[Miss Amayah i dont feel insulted, i get that stuff alot. But its a differnce if you chose that career to bring air and food back home or to live out your violent fantasies or something else. I moved on after working with someone with realy bad taste how to do that work.]
Park "I mean that kind of sounds about right. Seems like everyone is getting what they want from the championship race in one form or another." He says to Eddie. "I don't bet on anything. Gambling has never interested me in the slightest. Sure, I can talk to some interested bookies." He barely pays attention to Amyah and just looks at Eddie, "I also see you've been scrapping the bottom of the loonie bin here." While the fun in the back continues Impi gets himself back into the M&Q Community Branch's network and like that he make's the admin node go dark. Agent Lan doesn't answer but her geist answers saying she's busy but you can leave a message and it will relay it to her. M&Q Community Services Branch Saito gets the word that Impi has done his job. However, Saito knows he can't just walk in yet. That would be too suspicious. So he gives himself a five minute window assuming a call has put in and someone was being dispatched. After that he makes his entrance. The front assistant looks at him as he walks in, "Please tell me you're the IT guy?"
@Section9 [Eddie, Agent Lan is not available but her geist will forward on a message - want me to relay over to your comlog?]
[ Thank you, Impi, and yes, I'll leave the message. ] [ Agent Lan-daren, this is Lawrence Calverston. I have a verbal confession to fixing the races by one Bo Ryan, but I'm not entirely buying it. I need, excuse me, I would really like to get a legal financial investigation, just to make sure that his story about not being paid by anyone but the HSGP checks out. ] Eddie adds a short audio file of the conversation, just the part where Bo admits doing the rigging, along with Bo's ID data for the investigation. [ The sooner you can get this and get back to me, the better. I have an appointment at 9pm where a confirmation of this info will be near-critical, so if you or your Geist can get that info to me by then it will greatly help matters. ] [ Also, I am gravely concerned about who decided to rig the races, the betting pattern does not match the identified actors. I'm loath to ask this of you, but could you please check to see if there is an Imperial connection to HSGP, moving large chunks of cash to individuals? I really don't want to catch The Dragon's Attention any more than I already have. That tends to be... most unfortunate for everyone concerned. ] Eddie looks back at Bo Ryan. "Yes, we're all a little crazy here, comes with the territory." "I wouldn't recommend repeating that comment though." Eddie's voice shifted back to the tone he used at the start, coming from the bottom of his chest with the same force as a martial arts kiai, and his eyes have gone scary-hard. He looks Bo straight in the eye for a good 30 seconds of dead silence after that.
