So Joey Doesn't Roleplay Anything But Smut, Does She?

[hydrashok]

Insertion had been simplicity itself. Despite the fact that most megacorp properties maintain a certain level of anti-aircraft defense, humans still don't think of defense in terms of a three-dimensional environment. From an evolutionary standpoint, this makes sense. For the grand majority of humanity's time on the planet, there haven't been any predators that could take a human from above. Even the presence of dragons and such creatures in the modern world hasn't filled in this cultural blind spot. As a result, whether they're a person walking down the street, or a rent-a-cop standing guard at a major research facility, people don't spend nearly enough time watching the sky. It was a blind spot that Tom was more than willing to take advantage of. It made his life so very much easier.

Insertion was performed by parachute. He had jumped at forty thousand feet, deployed his 'chute at high altitude, and sailed in. He'd used the parafoil design of the 'chute to glide in, silent as a grave, and alighted on the roof. After stashing the 'chute, it was a simple matter to gain entry into the building. A thermite burning bar made short work of the lock. After that is where things began to get tricky. He crept through the hallways, avoiding contact with the local security as he drew closer to his objective. His first contact with the corporate guards was right outside the chamber in question, in fact. He would have prefered to avoid contact altogether, but there was nothing he could do about it in this instance. They were stationed right outside the only entrance to the target room. There was no way around it: he simply had to eliminate them.

Interfacing with his assault rifle's smartgun module, he went into the prone position just around the corner from the room. Holding his weapon in front of him at a ninety-degree angle by the pistol grip and the vertical foregrip, he extended it out past the corner almost at ground level. Using the image transmitted from the smartgun module's camera to his optical implants, he took careful aim and selected the weapon's three round burst function. Without touching the trigger, he used his smartlink to fire the rifle. Immediately, the weapon laced a triple shot burst into the first of the two guards, the sound suppressor on the barrel turning what would otherwise be a roar of gunfire into a series of short, staccato pops. The next burst followed on the heels of the first, tearing into the other guard and sending him crashing to the ground next to his compatriot. Neither of them ever had a chance to sound the alarm.

All his stealth did was buy him a little extra time to do his work. It wasn't so much that he didn't want to announce his presence to the security forces of the building. One way or another, they were going to know he was here. This wasn't some low-visibility shadowrun where he was supposed to get in and out without anyone knowing he was ever there - though, he had done a few of those during the course of his career. This wasn't even a shadowrun at all, in fact. It was a mission. A covert operation. The Shiawase Corporation had developed an artificial life form, and the Government of the United Canadian and American States had decided that this artificial life would be granted all the same rights as the traditional kind. More rights than the traditional kind, in fact, when one considered that one of those rights was the right not to be treated like property by some soulless megacorp. He had been sent to steal it and destroy the research that led to its creation. There was no way to do that quietly... it was bound to be noticed. When the alarm sounded, however, he wanted to be the one sounding it.

Pulling what looked like a can of shaving cream with the label stripped away off of its clip on his body armour, he sprayed a long, thick rope of the stuff around the edges of the doorframe. Tossing the emptied can aside with a soft clank, he fished a detonator out of a small pouch on his chest and pressed it into the foam, which had now solidified to the consistency of cookie dough. Stepping back across the hall, he raised his assault rifle one handed and pulled a black cardboard cylinder about the size of the can he had just thrown away out of its appropriate pouch. Pulling the pin on the flashbang with his thumb, he held down the spoon to keep the fuse from burning as he accessed the dataport in his neck. Through his hardwire connection to his body armour's systems, he activated the built-in radio and sent the appropriate command to the detonator he had just placed. Immediately, the foam exploded, blowing the entire doorframe out of the reinforced wall and a good foot into the room beyond before it fell to the ground. The blast itself wasn't especially spectacular, just a loud, flat snap, a puff of smoke, and the door was gone. The door hitting the floor actually sounded more like a movie explosion than the actual explosion did.

For all that the blast that blew down the door lacked theatricality, the flashbang more than made up for it. Even before the door landed, he lobbed the flashbang through the hole it made, sending it sailing into the room. As its one-second fuse burned out, the cardboard-sheathed charge exploded harmlessly, and with no other effect than a blinding flash of light and a literally deafening roar. Anyone caught looking at the device - and, let's face it, who wouldn't, considering it had just flown through the hole where the door used to be? - would be stunned for a handful of seconds. That would be more than enough time for Tommy to do his duty. His own cyberwear protected him from the terrible brightness and thunderous noise of the flashbang, and so mere seconds after it went off, he was leaping through the door. There was a third guard inside the room, as well as a corporate scientist, and... there! His target: Sachen Weih... the artificial life form.

In an instant, a thoughtful, caring man - a man with hopes, dreams, and an odd fascination with a twentieth century comic by the name of Dennis Leary - turned into nothing more than a six-foot-tall, living guidance system for a firearm. His assault rifle came up, targeting the guard almost automatically. A pair of three round bursts tore through his body armour like tissue paper, dropping the guard to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. With the first target serviced, he locked onto the lesser threat: the scientist. A single three round burst was more than enough for the unarmoured civilian, and a mere heartbeat later, he went to join the guards that Tommy had already slain. That's all they were to him, all any hostile was to him when he was in tactical mode: targets to be serviced. They were all just corpses waiting to happen, and in combat he would make it happen with less thought than most men would put into zipping up their flies.

Sachen was different, though.

Sachen wasn't a target.

Sachen was the package.

"Sachen Weih," he declared, his voice loud and clear as he slung his rifle and began moving around the lab, setting pre-measured C-9 charges on each computer bank and piece of experimental equipment. All of Shiawase's information on creating an artificial being was here in this room, on these computers, completely isolated from the Matrix. By the time he left, it would all be gone, along with whatever was in the science geek he'd killed's head. "You're coming with me."

Almost as an afterthought as he set the last charge, he stepped over to the science geek, drew his silenced pistol, and fired two rounds into the back of the corpse's head. If the scientist had any kind of cybernetic recording device on which some of the research might have been hidden, the bullets through the head would destroy it. Tommy chided himself on getting sloppy. If he hadn't thought of cyber-memory at the last second, he might have grabbed Sachen, blown up the computers, and taken off. If the scientist did have cyber-memory installed, and he had done that, Shiawase would come in here two minutes later, jack in, download the information from his corpse, and make another artificial being at some other facility within the next week. It would have been a rookie mistake not to take any precautions against that. In fact... kneeling down, he pulled another can of foam explosive off his kit vest, stuck a nozzle on it, and sprayed a generous quantity of the stuff into both bullet holes in the scientist's head. Then, as if he was just setting up a charge on another computer, he stuck a detonator in both wads of explosive and stood, throwning away the empty can.

"If you don't come with me voluntarily, I will knock you unconscious with my TASER and carry you out of here," he explained calmly. "If you try to run away from me, I'll knock you out and carry you. If you do anything to slow me down or prevent me from taking you out of here, I will knock you out and carry you. No matter what you do, you are coming with me." When next he spoke, the tone of his voice - and the way he was reaching for his holstered TASER - made it clear that her response would make the difference between walking out and being carried out. "Do you understand what I have just told you?"

The room had been sterile, serene almost in it's hi-tech way. She is aware that she is of value to them, and the man who she has come to known as Dr. Meyer, hs instilled a sense of security, stability about being kept in this room that lacks sunlight, or much furniture. Every day they test her mind, her agility, her reflexes, her senses. They make her cry, laugh, scream, hide, and they push her. Educating her through books and computers. Information was at her fingertips, so long as she was good. She never thought of herself as a prisoner or why she didn't know what wind felt like, or sunlight for that matter.

But Dr. Meyer had been promising her they would go outside soon. That she would be a regular part of society. His words were filled with the promise that she, single-handedly, would bring eternal life to humans. Shiawise had been careful and quiet about this project, working for years on putting Sachen together. An ingenious mix of cybernetics and bio technology She has skin, blood, organs, and a brain. She also has enhancements in how the brain works, limitations on how it works. Her ability to retain information is un-canny. Not to mention how quickly she can read through materials and commit them to memory for recital. The prototype was proving to also be the back-up. Until Dr. Meyer, the man, who was rendered a holy mess, leaked information of her existence and expressed his concern for her well-being.

From that moment on, Sachen was kept under lock and key. Frightened and anxious she begins to exhibit the flaws of humanity, that while programming had attempted to erase, nature reared it's head to replace. She acted out, refused to cooperate, and became troublesome. A personality had developped and the doctor, being a man of science, was documenting every second of it. So much so that he had fondly come to think of her as his very own. Had he known that creating life would end his own life, he likely would not have been so daunting in his task of playing God. The room that had been serene, and was dimly lit so she could rest was suddenly smoking, and blinding. The good doctor had had enough sense to prevent her from suffering the ill effects of the blast only to wind up dead. She screams as Tommy begins to shoot people around her. Reacting on instinct to crouch and hide. She was only a few feet away from him when he viciously murdered the only people she had ever 'known'.

Her mind ticks of a thousand possible responses to his firm commands about her behavior. Some part of her mind thinks this is another test and programming begins to work with nature to produce flee or fight. She had not been programmed for combat, or war. So her instinct is to move away from Tommy, backing away from him, stumbling over a body, and landing hard on her ass she's shaking her head no. Tears rolling down her cheeks. "Murderer," she yelps up to him. This had to be a test and it would be over soon. She could go back to resting. "Don't touch me," she cries to him, trying to scramble away. Her lithe body moving over the floor now in an effort to put as much distance between them as possible. "Help," she screams.

"Murder? That wasn't murder," Tommy contradicted her. Reaching down, he drew his TASER from its holster and aimed it at the young woman whose very existence was the cause of all this trouble. "That was an act of war."

With that, Tommy rechecked his aim. His capacitor dart TASER afforded him multiple shots, but a thing worth doing was worth doing right the first time. He flipped the safety off and did a quick diagnostic on the weapon, making certain that it hadn't been damaged during his insertion, either while he was parachuting onto the facility's roof, or afterwards. Having satisfied himself that the weapon wasn't damaged in any way, he checked the charge on the darts in the chamber. It was rare, but every once and a while the darts suffered a factory defect that rendered them incapable of holding a charge. These, however, were in perfect working order, and held enough electricity to render her instantly unconscious.

The entire process took less than a second, with his smartlink implants interfacing directly with the weapon to bring him the information he needed. Watching his target from behind the featureless faceplate of his helmet, he quirked one corner of his mouth up into a cruel little smile. Sachen may have made up her mind to be difficult, but in reality her refusal to cooperate was little more than an inconvenience. He hadn't been joking when he told her that she was coming with him whether she wanted to or not. Plans had been made for exactly this eventuality.

"Say g'night, Gracie," he said.

Tommy fired.

She was scrambling away, fear slowing her reactions beyond the point of registering. Up until this point had been mental trauma, education, controlled and most of all -SAFE-. Her mind is screaming to run, dodge, fight, and struggle. Her body is floundering about like it's trying to go in two different directions at once. The vicious murderer in her room is looming and massive over her. Her dark brown eyes look up to the masked face and she looks like a child who doesn't understand why he's doing this to her. "Help," she cries again, her voice not accustomed to being so loud, or abused. Then he's tasering her. Her body hurt all over, twitching and jerking on the floor, writhing in pain as ten thousands volts are rendering her unable to do anything else. The minute and a half it takes for her systems to finally process what shutdown means is the worst moments ever. Then her eyes close and she goes limp.

For just a second there, Tommy thought that he might have to use two darts to render his charge unconscious. It was, of course, the primary reason why shadowrunners, commandoes, security forces, and everyone else relied on lethal ammunition for their primary weapons. Less-lethal weapons were wonderful. They provided a whole different range of options that simply were not available before their inception. They were, however, not without their drawbacks, and one of those drawbacks was the fact that they generally took longer to take effect. If you shot someone with a handgun, it took effect right away. If you did it right, they fell down and stayed down. Of course, they didn't get back up again, which could be a problem if you wanted to capture and not kill. Still, the lag time between shooting and target incapacitation could be a problem in certain circumstances.

Exfiltration was, if not necessarily as easy, just as simple as his insertion had been. Stepping out into the hallway, he raised his smartlinked rifle and cut down a pair of security guards as they approached. Climbing up on a jagged piece of rebar sticking out of the hole left by the door, he planted a directional mine - Russian made, of course - on the ceiling to slow down any pursuers. Crossing to the other side of the door, he did so again, blocking off the corridor in both directions. With that completed, it was time to plant a red herring or two. Pulling out a can of red spraypaint, he flipped the cap off, shook it twice, and began tagging the wall across from the blasted doorway in an attempt to make it look as if this were just another shadowrun. Holding down the nozzle, he sprayed one word in four foot high red letters on the wall:

YOINK!

With that done, he tossed the can aside and activated the mines. He figured he had perhaps a couple of minutes before they no longer provided him with protection. At that point, his rear flank would be open, and he would be in trouble. Pulling a small envelope from a pouch on his gear, he unfolded it and applied it to one of the windows. Sending the triggering code, he detonated it, shattering the window and blowing the glass out to tumble down to the ground below. Affixing a climbing piton just inside the window, he ran a rappelling rope through the loop and fixed it tight. He tested the entire assembly to make sure it would hold. It simply wouldn't do to have it give way while he was still thirty stories up. Once he was satisfied that it would hold, it was time to collect the package.

Ziptying Sachen's wrists together, he slung them over his shoulders and secured her to his back. Taking hold of the rope, he stepped out into the abyss and began making his way down the side of the building. Again, the two-dimensional thinking that the human mind was notorious for worked in his favour. People tended to think about combat inside office buildings in terms of stairways and corridors, not in terms of walking down the side of the building. In fact, while a number of Shiawase employees did look up in shock when he lowered himself past their windows, it took until he had reached the second floor before he had to deal with any kind of opposition.

Shiawase, like any other megacorp, had contracted security forces on site. In this case, however, they appeared to have skimped a little. The armed men that attempted to stop Tommy as he proceeded down the wall weren't from Knight-Errant. They weren't even Lone Star. None of them were anywhere close to the league that those two private law enforcement agencies operated in. In attempting to safeguard their bottom line, Shiawase had simply ensured that they didn't have anyone on-site capable of even slowing down a trained commando. For one thing, none of them were willing to chance injuring Tommy's hostage while he rappelled down the building. Once he reached the ground, however, they were perfectly willing to do battle, firing near-misses past the commando to prove that they were serious. It was, of course, a tactic that would stop the average thief, one that would cause them to surrender. Tommy, however, was not average.

When Tommy returned fire, he was not aiming for a "near miss".

---

By the time the effects of the TASER wore off, they were airborne. He had fought his way off the property, breaking contact once he passed back onto UCAS turf. Of course, Shiawase had warned the local Lone Star station house that a thief and multiple murderer was passing into their territory. He had planned on that. As a matter of fact, it had a lot to do with why he had handled his insertion with the kind of stealth that he had. The less warning that Lone Star recieved, the more likely he was to escape. For that matter, he had promptly passed back out of Lone Star's territory by darting onto the lot of an old, rarely used Ares Macrotechnology warehouse to await his extraction.

Extraction was performed via a tiltrotor aircraft that had been waiting on-station for just that purpose. None of those involved were truly aware of the mission, or of who Tommy was or who his prisoner was. All they knew was that they had been ordered to proceed to a certain point, await a signal, and then collect one Navy SEAL and one prisoner. Each man onboard possessed a security clearance requiring years of unblemished service, and none ranked below O-3. Whatever else had happened during the course of the mission, the people who collected Tommy afterwards were consumate professionals, none of whom would ever talk about what they had seen or done during the course of this night.

Tommy removed his helmet, taking advantage of the chance to breathe fresh air for the first time in what felt like hours. One of the side gunners had procured a cup of coffee for him somewhere, and he had a sandwich in his other hand, both of which he would have happily killed a man for. There was nothing quite like real food after a long mission, especially not when the bioware floating around in your system required you to eat twice as much as a normal man or else risk starvation. Taking a bite of the chicken salad sandwich in his left hand, he chewed and swallowed before washing it down with the coffee in his right.

Life was good.

By the time she is aware of herself again, she can tell she is bound and she is in a vehicle of some sort. She hadn't been taught to play opossum, or to lie. How do you explain to a new being the meaning of a lie, or how to pretend anything. She hurt. Being tasered is anything but fun. Her eyes blink open an she sits up suddenly, jerking her hands instinctively and looking around. "Dr. Meyer," forgetting for a moment that she was no longer in her room, but then her gaze settles on the men in uniform and she remembers instantly about the monster who invaded her space. But he wasn't here, at least he wasn't in the same appearance as before. Looking from one strange face to another she squirms against the zip ties again. It wasn't right, or fair. Why did they kidnap her? She didn't do anything wrong. "You can't keep me," she finally huffs at them. "I am a Shiawise member of society. You have to let me go." In her naivity, she thinks that voicing the fact they're doing something bad will make them stop doing it.

It was cold too, her body shivering as it struggles to adjust to the new conditions. She is a prototype after all, and keeping her in a controlled environment hadn't allowed for much stress testing against elements. When he originally created her central nervous system and blood networking system, he toyed with the idea of putting a temperature regulator into her body, so she would never be too hot, or too cold. But they company wanted her as real as possible. "I didn't do anything wrong," she mews at them again as she's starting to cry. She isn't a trained killing machine, or elite meta-human commando. She wondered if they were going to ransom her back to someone. But who? He murdered the doctor viciously. Which brings the tears again. She hates all these new feelings. She had been afraid, cofused, lonely, and even angry before.

But this feeling was of hopelessnes. Like she was never going to be okay. Her back hurts with a dull throbbing feeling, like there is a steady pulse right at the base of her spine. An insurance policy, in place for if any of the competitors thought about stealing her and claiming her as her own. "Owe," she whimpers a bit, squirming around as the spot on her back thumps harder against her spine and radiates a little bit of heat from the sensor trying to emit a signal, but is disfunctioning due to the power surge in her body. "What did you do to me," she cries at the men again.