Act I: The Ship in a Bottle Job


There it was - the slight metallic taste of danger tingling the perimeter of his tongue. The thrill of a hunt or a stakeout reved his heart a little. The possibility of an encounter, no matter how much he needed to avoid it tonight, flushed his cheeks a bit. Reasonance thrived in environments where conflict was common or the end-all of resolution. Tonight he couldn't be Reasonace though - tonight he had to be Lindsay French and no one could know of his machinations in the Resonance.

He sat on the closed toilet, knowing that he was about to start draining energy, and slipped all of the way into his reality. There was a snake coiled upwards to the heavens. Slowly its scales began to shed as fragments of data formed into a trunk. Then branches and roots sprawled across the horizon. Yggdrasil channeled from roots to trunk to branches to leaves in the syncopated pulsing of life. Reasonance zoomed focus to the branches, and found a packet of code resembling an ant, and called out to that particular ant among thousands of others.

"You. My brother. My friend. I am in need of your strength, loyalty, and persistence. Your purpose must reassemble into mine. Your next workings will be at my side should I need it. Your pressence will aid me in my endeavors."

With that being said, Reasonance began a struggle with the formicidae-esque sprite. He knew that if a man was sneaking around patiently and methodically, that he would be well able to torch a nosy interloper. He only hoped that the sprite would protect and heal like a Paladin was suposed to do.


Vegas made his way to the other side of the room, ostensibly heading towards a table laden with enough food to feed an Orc enclave for a day or so. Not for the first time he wished he'd given in and taken implants; cyber-eyes with video would be handy right now. Then he remembered his techno-happy buddies.

OK. Light fingers is on the move. We need eyes on him, recording eyes. If he lifts anything we need to be able to prove it.

Then, on the private channel they shared with the small on-board security force.

Potential pick-pocket on the move. Elf near the starboard buffet tables. If he strikes I want him picked up carefully and quietly.


While far from harmless, Kvasir decided that Orson didn't seem a likely source of trouble. He knew which side he'd want the old shaman on if things got nasty. There didn't seem to be much he could hide from old Wodanstag, but at least he was polite enough not to question the younger magicians cover story. Might as well try to learn a few things.

"Well, I have to admit a certain level of interest, but curiosity killed the cat shaman. I know enough to listen to my elders in this sort of situation. Going to keep an eye on the fellow, though, enough years working security that it dies hard. Now that you have a bead on me, down to my initiate thingi, might I ask who signs your checks?" Kvasir slipped into Old Norse, "More importantly, whose path do you follow? The Aesir, the Vanir or some other way?"


<Briefcase is a high-level courier/data-smuggler. I'll keep an eye on him, but I recommend we leave him be. He is good enough that I do not think he's in danger of upsetting the party. Shifting focus to Pickpocket. Reasonance, please keep an eye on our online guest.> For a moment, Kamal comes back to his body, eyes fluttering open behind dark shades in a dark room. Shifting a little to keep comfortable, he takes a couple quick breaths, preparing to sink deeper into the Matrix and spread himself out amongst the cameras mounted around the ship and carried by the security crew.

<Vegas, I am ready. Tell me what you need to see, and I will bring it up.>


Vegas allowed himself a smile. It was good to work in a team. It was good to have back-up, all the bases covered, and all that jazz. He'd pulled some pretty fun jobs solo but this way was good too. More likely to work out as well, if he was honest.

The elf over there, by the salmon, approaching the small knit of nobs. He's up to no good. I'm just not sure if it's general issue thievery or something more sinister. Get eyes on what he is doing and record it. Also keep an eye out. He'll probably cover well, just through training but try to cover the angles. It wouldn't surprise me if he does a drop instead of a lift.

As Reasonance
Right now you're going to push, which is zero tasks owed. I suggest burning a point of Edge to get a few bonus dice.
pitted his will against the sprite he heard a sudden knock on the door. "Hey! Hey, open up! I got a lady what needs the restroom!"

Up on Deck, Vegas quickly started marking the pickpocket with expert timing. As his message spread out over the comm he could see two of the burly but unobtrusive guards glanced up and gave him the barest of nods. As the pickpocket continued his stumbling advance two of the guards went to work. The first "accidentally" spilled his drink on the group of executives, which both made a commotion and made sure they were much more alert. The second then "bumped" into the pickpocket and grumbled an apology.

The pickpocket, much as Vegas had predicted, made a quick apology and quickly made his way back toward the table laden with food and drink. His keen eyes took in the scene as he tried to figure out just who had made him and prevented his first attempt. His face was calm and professional. This was clearly a man who was used to working high security and his patience suggested great skill.

Down below in the bunks, Zahid watched the entire scene play out in real time. He had more than enough video to start compiling data on just who this pickpocket was, plus a few eyes in the sky trained on him to catch him in the act. That part was easy. The harder part was finding any information at all on the pickpocket. His facial recognition routines were coming up with nothing, which suggested that the elf had changed his appearance somehow. Perhaps it was facial sculpting, or maybe it was just a lot of makeup. But he'd something other than a face to get more information. A fingerprint, perhaps.

Orson Wodanstag

Orson chuckled again as the question was put to him. The chuckle continued to grow until it was a full on guffaw. His eyes twinkled and he shrugged. "Ah, the curiosity of youth. The better question to ask is whose checks do I sign?"

Incoming MessageFor a karmic reward, replace the data chip in the briefcase with the item the elven pickpocket steals.


Reasonance, adopting the likeness of a
satyr, stared through enlarged, almond shaed eyes at the packets of scrawling code that created the sprite. Its antenae twiched as six legs carried it across one of the infinite branches of Yggdrasil, closer to the satyr at the base of the encompassing tree.

There was a struggle between himself and resonance and the will of the sprite - quality had its price and Reasonance wanted a strong protector in a situation like this. He knew that the tasking was not going to benefit him to the fullest degree, and decided to pluck an acorn of strength from a low-hanging branch of Yggdrasil. He knew that sprites were creatures of Resonance and he hoped that he could find a way to use his knowledge of the realm to help influence the sprite's decision to lend him aid. Consuming the acorn immediately channeled more energy through Reasonance, allowing him the power to request services of the sprite.

There was nothing left that he could do except hope that the sprite would agree to work with the satyr and move on. Reasonance admited that from now on, he would make sure a few creatures of the Realm were already in his service before he puched in to work. His skills lacked more in this situation that in most others and it irked the technomancer more than he cared to admit.

As he pressed past the struggle to secure a sprite's services, there was a loud bang on the door and a man's voice claiming that a woman needed the bathroom. So much for privacy - why doesn't he just take her to one of the bunkrooms for some regretable action? There wasn't much Reasonance could do.

"Hang tight for one moment please. The Savignon Blanc is going right through me. Clean pear crispness with a perfect amount of grass and minerality on the finish though...a really great representation."

Stalling for a few moments of time, Reasonance allowed his focus to slip back into the Realm and find one of his micro surveillance drones. He attempted to bring it from the dining area where he just came from, down the stairwell to ensure that whomever was outside of the door was indeed a man and woman in need of the room.


Vegas shook his head. Which of the goons had developed half a brain and started thinking for themselves. Had he asked them to prevent the crime? No. That would only cause him to up the ante. True, it might cause him to show his true colours too; if he backed down or soldiered on, but tipping their hand like this was just careless.

He sighed and picked at a vol-au-vent. Amateurs.

The message came in and he scowled. Sometimes those karmic people really irritated him. This was one of those times. He wanted a nice easy pay off. He wanted to do his job. He didn't want to be interfering directly with the party they were supposed to be guarding.


Patterns in the data...Zahid watches the security guys intervene. Problematic. With a digital twitch, he opens a channel that includes both his team and the regular security guys. <This is Mr. O. Please discontinue interventions against the elven guest. The situation is under monitor and control.> Hopefully that was vague enough, and the guards savvy enough, that they wouldn't give themselves away by all looking at the man...

He sent the next part only to the team. <Do we wish to continue with the job at hand or risk poor performance for our unknown future reward? There are arguments for either, and I will follow group consensus. In either case, I am proceeding to gather data on our Pickpocket.>

There's more avenues than guests for security risks. Zahid pulls up the dossiers on the catering crew, although he already knows the correct choice for this job. Leaving most of the cameras on the periphery of his attention, he flicks through the kitchen area, until her finds her arranging hors d'oeuvres. An aspiring actress, working this job until her big break, graceful enough, with the bland pretty looks that came with plenty of surgery. But a sharp enough mind. <Ms. Jones, this is Mr. O, security. I have a job for you. Near the buffet table is a handsome elven man, drinking martinis. I would like you to collect that glass, wearing gloves and being sure not to smudge out his fingerprints. Be sure to collect other glasses as you go, so as not to attract suspicion. If you will accept this task, please nod once.>

Reasonance managed to get his drone in place without much effort. The video feed showed a slender young woman hanging on the arm of an overly tanned and beefy looking executive. The girl did indeed look pretty green around the gills, but that wasn't stopping the executive from trying to cop a feel or two. The girl protested weakly a few times, but her movements were sluggish. The executive looked positively delighted and he banged on the door again, shouting "hurry it up, you slitch!"

Fortunately for Reasonance, his battle of wills abruptly ended with him victorious. The large sprite let out a high pitched burst of static that roughly translated to acceptance. The sprite was powerful and more than a little free willed, but it would aid the technomancer once before slipping the bonds of service.

Up on the deck, the security goons suddenly lost all interesting in the pickpocket and started scanning the crowd again. They were pretty good, definitely well trained, but it was clear that they weren't big on brains. When the request from Zahid came in, one of them gave a single nod and then spoke into his collar. Several moments later one of the wait staff came by wearing exquisite white gloves and carefully started clearing away some of the used glasses. Zahid and Vegas both noted that the martini glass that the pickpocket had used was carefully placed on the edge of the try with a martini olive still in the glass to point it out. The goon then added <glass is on it's way, Mr. O> before returning his attention to the party at large.


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