Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Maeve MacEvoy - known as Moxie to most of the rest of the world - sat in the dingy, seedy hotel room, letting the warmth from her mug of tea seep into her hands as she looked out the dirty window to the equally dingy, seedy surroundings beyond. The tea itself was awful prepackaged imitation soy-tea, but she was used to that. She was far less used to her surroundings – brand new seedy hotel, brand new city, in a brand new part of the world.

So far, she was less than impressed.

She brushed a lock of blonde hair back behind her pointed ears for the hundredth time, squinting as the red neon glare of a rundown, hole-in-the-wall bar sharing the hotel parking lot forced its way into the room, turning orange as it passed through the yellowed glass and somehow managing to irritate her cybernetically augmented eyes no matter how she set her light filters. She had considered checking the place out, but the likelihood that they only served continental pisswater was too depressing to deal with. Besides, it wasn't worth risking exposure – even if her “benefactor” hadn't stressed it, laying low was second nature to her while on assignment. For now, she contented herself with scanning the parking lot, watching as locals staggered out of the bar, stumbling over trash and potholes in the pavement as they made their way to equally dingy, run down vehicles and headed gods-only-knew-where. A couple of working girls attempted to ply their trade, but the neo-humans exiting the bar showed little interest in what they were offering. The working girls were actually the thing that she was most interested in, although not for the typical reasons. They were jittery, constantly checking their surroundings and never straying too far from the dim, yellowed illumination of the single streetlight in the parking lot. Anything that made locals jumpy was worth taking note of, and so Moxie sat at the window, tea in hand and a pistol on the beaten up table next to her, and observed.

She sipped the tea and grimaced, the artificial sweetener – normally a cardinal sin to her – incapable of drowning out the sour aftertaste and leaving a filmy feeling in her throat. Across the room, a pair of rifle cases sat propped up against a dilapidated vid set that only seemed to show static filled ads and local news. A pair of military style rucksacks sat unopened in the corner next to one of the two beds in the room. The bed nearest to her was empty, the other occupied by a young man that shared the same blonde hair and blue eyes that she had. Sean, her younger brother, had collapsed into the bed as soon as they arrived, not even bothering to remove his shoes or pull up the threadbare blankets. She grinned to herself, remembering that he wasn't nearly as used to jet lag as she was, before returning her attention back to the window, unsure of what it was that she was even on the lookout for. This far out from a sprawl, in what people often called the badlands or No Man's Land, there was any number of potential threats and boogeymen ranging from local warlords, to local roving motor gangs, to local flora and fauna... or local worse. The one thing it was almost guaranteed not to be was unwanted attention from any form of security or corporate law enforcement. The powers that be simply didn't give a damn what happened to the people this far out - it wasn't cost effective. Out here, personal security was measured in calibers and magazine capacity. Of course, that lack of corporate interest and security was precisely why she was holed up here.

It was around the time she noticed one of the bar patrons taking an interest in the working girls that she heard a chime from the comm implanted in her ear, audible only to her: unknown contact. She mentally double checked the comm signature, making sure it wasn't her benefactor, and was mildly surprised to find that it matched the sig of the contact her benefactor told her she was waiting to hear from.

Odd. That's a few days early. There was something strange about the prostitutes, something in how they moved, but she pushed that thought aside for business and opened the call; schedules being moved up was usually bad news. She took a second to mentally keep her accent neutral before opening the channel. “Speak and be heard.”

A woman's voice greeted her on the other end. “A man in white said I could find a friend here?”

She gave the countersign, relieved at least that this seemed to be the right person. “I'll be here all night. Ravenqueen?”

“Confirmed. Is this Moxie?”

Moxie reflexively nodded and relaxed the control of her accent. “That's me, lass. What's the situation? Wasn't expecting to hear from you for another two days.”

“Nothing's changed with our original op. Actually, I was reaching out to see if you had any interest in helping my crew with a separate job tonight, kind of a spur of the moment deal. It's in-house, so creds will be coming directly from us.”

Moxie grinned to herself. “Ah, a job interview is it?”

“Not how I see it, but I can understand why you would think so.”

“Interesting. How do you see it then?”

The disembodied voice of Ravenqueen sighed. “I see it as a way to convince certain overprotective teammates that I will in fact have an overwatch on this adventure in the form of a sniper pre-vetted by a source I trust. The job requires me to be on-site, which makes them uncomfortable since they won't be available to babysit me on account of doing the job.”

“I see. Good they're lookin' out for ya like that though, lots of teams wouldn't.”

“We're not 'lots of teams'. We're a cut above and we have higher standards to match.”

Even over the comm, Moxie could hear the pride in Ravenqueen's voice when she said those words. Tight crew then, and she's trusting me sight-unseen based solely on my referral? Something to note, that.  She glanced out the window as she spoke, noticing that the street girls were both gone, along with their interested party. “Alright then, What's the pay?”

“Pay is 5,000 credits, delivered before dawn if all goes well. Bonus if your vehicle can haul a bit of cargo and I don't have to locate one myself – normally that wouldn't be an issue, but as I said, this is a spur of the moment gig and bikes aren't great on cargo space.”

“Believe me, I'm well acquainted with the spacious accommodations most motorcycles offer.” Moxie didn't have a vehicle currently, but that wasn't really a problem. Scanning the parking lot, she found a potential fit – an old, dirty van that had once been white but was now more rust than paint - and moved to nudge Sean awake. Her efforts were rewarded with bleary eyes and inarticulate mumbling.

“As for the job,” Ravenqueen continued, “you'll be making sure the imaginary, theoretical Big Bad Wolf doesn't gobble me up while I hack into security so my team can retrieve something from the medical examiner's office.”

A disbelieving smile twisted Moxie's lip. “Hang on lass, are you tellin' me that you called me up in the middle of the night t'help ya rob a morgue?” That comment got Sean's attention, bringing him from a groggy half awake stare to a fully conscious questioning look.

“Not how I see it but.... oh who the hell am I kidding, that's exactly how I see it. Yes, we're robbing the city morgue of one body in particular. Goblin. Should fit in the trunk of most vehicles.”

Moxie chuckled. “Well now, that certainly sounds more interesting than sitting here collecting bedbugs and roaches. Where am I meeting you?”

“Club Orpheus on Pratt, in the city. We'll likely be outside, look for a troll girl and a guy in a hoodie with her. That'll be Nikki and Alex.”

“Got it. Gimme 20 minutes or thereabouts, I'm coming from some hole called Millersville. It's right by the highway though so-”

“Did you say Millersville?”

The alarmed undertones in Ravenqueen's voice caught Moxie off guard. “Um, yeah? 'zat a bad thing?”

Her comm was silent for a three count. “Ok, change of plans. You're going to pack up your things and get the hell out of there. Now. We'll work out accommodations for you later.”

“Ravenqueen, what's the problem here?” The anxious direction the conversation had taken led Moxie's instincts back to the window, where she noticed that the working girls were back already, red miniskirts and halter tops hardly seeming mussed up by the rigors of the job. Guess the poor sod got a little too friendly with the whiskey beforehand.

Ravenqueen's voice came over the comm again, and Mox recognized the 'professional' tone to it. “Millersville has an infestation problem. Ghouls. Are you at the White Gables?”

“A-yup, that's the one.” She grabbed the pistol off the table, watching as the girls in red began knocking on the door to the first hotel room at the end of the row, the lacquered nails on their hands a bit too long even for their profession, their movements, which she had mistaken for jitters earlier, a bit too jerky to be natural.  Outfits that hadn't been red earlier, she belatedly realized.

“Pack everything, you need to leave. We'll figure out where you're staying later, for now you need to get off the dinner menu.”

“Complication. If I'm relocating, I'll have a plus-one with me, my little brother.” She passed the pistol to Sean, who took it with another, slightly more alarmed questioning look. Moxie noticed with a mixture of relief and regret that he seemed far more comfortable with the firearm than he should have been as she cracked open the smaller of the two rifle cases and removed a practical, no-nonsense carbine, loading the weapon before sealing the case again.

Ravenqueen was quiet for a 2 count. “Plus-one confirmed and accounted for. Shouldn't be a problem.”

“Right then. If you'll excuse me, seems we need to be making an exit about now. See you in 20.”

“Acknowledged.” With that, the comm line closed and went silent.

Sean was already on his feet, having collected the two rucksacks and taken the opportunity to stuff all of the soy-tea, towels, soap, shampoo, and two hotel mugs into one of them while Moxie was busy. “Alright sis, you wanna clue me in on what's happening?”

“Details on the way, get your vest and jacket on. Turns out my glorious benefactor set us up in ghoultown.” She nodded her head towards the window and the two girls now making their way to the second room in the row, having gotten no answer at the first. 

“Aye,” he grimaced upon noticing them, then pulled an armored vest out of his rucksack and shrugged it overtop of the T shirt he was wearing. “Not exactly my type, even had I been in the bottle. What's our plan?”

She directed his gaze to the rusty white van she had picked out earlier, pulling her own vest over a black tank top and tucking a pair of dog tags underneath. Standing up from the table, she subconsciously smoothed out the camo fatigues she was wearing as she spoke. “You're going to acquire us transportation while I discourage any amorous curiosities from the local man-eating harlots, as any good sister would.”

Sean sighed melodramatically, grinning ear to ear. “Yet again my youthful charm and outrageous good looks have landed me in trouble.”

“I'm hoping this is a strange and novel flavor of trouble for ya, lad.”

“Ah, you know how it goes, Maeve. They want a relationship, I just want to pick their pockets. Never works out in the end. For them, leastways.” His gaze moved to the tray of artificial sweetener beside the vid set and, after a moments consideration, he shrugged and shoved the contents of the tray into the pockets of his jeans before zipping his rucksack closed. Nodding slightly in satisfaction, he pulled on an olive drab flak jacket that matched the one moxie was now wearing.

She chuckled despite the clear and present danger. “Aye, I'm fairly certain they want you inside of them. And me too, by the look of it.” The ghouls, noticing the lights on in their room, began making their way towards it in their peculiar jerky motion.

“Well now that's just disturbing. Sharing's not really my kink, 'specially with me sister.”

Moxie's smile faded as she braced the carbine against her shoulder. “Guess we'll just have to leave 'em broken hearted and unsatisfied then. Listen, the van is across the lot, opposite those two. When I open this door you go out first, I'll be right behind and covering you. A rifle tends to make a bigger first impression than a pistol. And don't shoot unless you need to, no telling how many others are lurkin' about to mistake a shot for a dinner bell. You ready?”

He nodded silently, one rucksack on his shoulders, the other in his left hand. The pistol was in his right.

Moxie nodded back, slinging both rifle cases over her other shoulder by their straps before opening the door. “Go! I'm the devil at your back, boy!”

Sean bolted through the door, never taking his eyes from his goal. Moxie slipped through a heartbeat later as the ghouls caught site of prey and picked up their pace. She backpedaled steadily towards the van but at a slower pace than Sean, never letting her targets wander too far out of the carbine's sights. The ghouls gained ground at an unsettling rate, but she wasn't concerned yet. Keeping one finger on the trigger, her other hand slid along the underside of the barrel grip and found a small button. Behind her she heard a quiet curse and then a zipper being undone. The ghouls took this as a sign that dinner was getting away, abandoning all pretense of appearing neo-human and loping forward as long, slender, rasping tongues protruded from mouths lined with sharp teeth. Moxie waited until they were 20 feet away before pressing the button on the 5000 lumen flashlight attached to the carbine, always backpedaling steadily. The ghouls screeched in the sudden, blinding light. Behind her she heard a sliding door slam shut, followed by the sound of an old combustion engine coughing to life.

“Evening, ladies. Slow night, I gather?” From this distance in the light, she could see that her earlier impression was correct – those outfits definitely weren't red earlier.

Despite their savage mannerisms, these two ghouls were not of the feral variety. They hissed in the light before subtly shifting to either side, attempting to flank her as she retreated. “Come on hon,” the one on the left rasped out, “We'll show you and your man a time you'll never forget.”

Against her better judgment and realizing they were trying to either box her in or slip around her to reach Sean, Moxie aimed for the thigh of the one on the left – the one that spoke - and pulled the trigger. Ghouls were notoriously durable, but they still needed structurally functional muscles to walk. The creature howled in pain as a single white tracer round seared its way past leathery skin and embedded into muscle, burning the whole time. Stress and adrenaline brought her Irish accent out completely. “First off, that's me brother you disgusting bitch. And second-” she pivoted on her back foot, lining her whole body up with her weapon instead of just turning at the waist, and put two more white-hot rounds directly into the second ghoul's chest. “that's th' only sort of penetration ya can be expectin' from either of us.” The second ghoul hissed in pain but barely slowed her approach.

The sudden revving of the engine heralded Sean's arrival. The second ghoul, her attention solely on Moxie with an unnatural predatory focus, didn't notice the van surging towards her with as much speed as Sean could gather in the short distance until he hit the headlights, blinding her a second time. The bumper hit with a solid thud, launching the thing a good twenty feet through the air before she landed in a heap of rubbery, distended limbs, bouncing and rolling another ten feet before coming to a stop. Sean shouted for his sister to get in, but Moxie didn't need the encouragement – she was in the passenger seat before the second ghoul managed to get back to her feet, and seconds later the two were on Veteran's Highway, leaving the immediate danger behind them in a cloud of exhaust fumes and dust.

“We really have to have a chat about your taste in women, lad.”

“Me now? Says the woman who left them both positively stunned after giving them just one good look at you!”

The dilapidated van hit the ramp onto I-97, the MacEvoy siblings laughing away the stress of the encounter as they made their way towards the neon lights in the distance. Once they had gotten away from Millersville and streetlights were a regular feature on the highway, Sean spoke. “So what's all this about robbing a morgue now?”

“The contact Hades set me up with got in touch about another job, something that apparently fell into their lap tonight. Seems time sensitive, and she said I'd get a bonus if I had a vehicle that could haul their cargo – seems she didn't have time to get one on her own.”

“So that's why you were eyin' this hunk o' garbage up.”

“Aye, had my eye on it before she found out where we were and took exception to us stayin' there. Said her crew would find us someplace to stay that wasn't a ghoul buffet.”

“So what kind of cargo are we haulin'?”

“It's a morgue, Sean. What kind do you think?”

“Right right. I guess what I mean is, what kinda morgue needs a whole team to break in?”

“The O.C.M.E.”

“I'm assuming that's some Yank term for something important, yeah?”

Moxie rolled her eyes at her brother's ignorance. “You might say that, yeah. It's the Medical Examiner's office.” She side eyed him as he drove. “Where the city coroner works. Where they keep all the bodies that died under mysterious, criminal circumstances so they can figure out whodunit.”

Sean hit the ramp from 97 to 295 as he took a moment to process the implications of that statement. “.....oh. Yeah, I suppose that's a bit more involved than breaking into a hospital.”

“Certainly is. Our contact says that she needs to be on site to hack into security, and apparently that rubs her team the wrong way so she wants me to run overwatch. 5,000 creds for glorified babysitting sounds good to me.”

“And where do I come in?”

She met his question with a flat glare. “You don't. You keep yer arse in the driver's seat of this sloth and make sure it's ready to go.”

He rolled his eyes. “C'mon sis, that's-”

“A good way to keep you from getting in over your head and also a good tactical decision? Yeah, I thought so too. Glad you approve.”

He scowled. “That's bullshite and you know it. I'm perfectly capable of handling myself.”

Moxie's gaze softened a bit. “Back home maybe. But this isn't home, Sean. Hell, we just got done escaping from the Hotel du Ghoul, and we had no idea. We don't know a damn thing about Baltimore, and I don't want you learning the hard way.”

“But it's fine if you do, huh?”

Moxie stared straight out the window, hesitating before replying with a hitch in her voice. “It's my responsibility.”

“Oh, izzat what you got from Da telling us to take care of each other? I'm guessin' I musta heard that differently than you did, then.”

“Aye, he did, and then I drug yer ass halfway around the world and dropped you smack in the middle of shady business in one of the wildest cities on Earth. Least I can do is make sure you keep breathing, you stubborn ass.”

Sean sighed as the van hit the exit ramp onto Russel st., passing by Underarmor Sports Arena as they made their way towards their destination. “Yer as thick as he is. You think I'd be here if I didn't want to be?”

“I think you're too damn reckless to think things through before making a decision based on how exciting something might be.” While she argued, Moxie made a mental note of potentially important landmarks they passed – a casino, the arena, and Camden Yards shortly after.

“And that's where you're wrong. I thought this one through real good, Maeve – new city, new business opportunities, better selection of products to acquire, and none of the old problems from back home. Not to mention, he's my Da too and I'm goin' to help whether you like it or not.”

She grinned despite herself, knowing full well she was going to lose this argument. “Grand Theft Auto is not a business. It's a felony.”

“Says the freakin' assassin?”

She turned to look at him again, but the smile refused to leave her face, and she saw he wore one as well. “We're talkin' about your bad decisions lad, not mine.”

“Be a short conversation if we're talkin' yours. Three words in fact: What The Fuck?”

Her smile grew. “No argument there, and I'm trying to keep you from the same short discussion.”

“Fine, tonight I'll keep the van running. But this isn't me conceding the point and this conversation ain't over, sis. I'm right, and you know it.”

Moxie nodded, silently thankful for Sean's support and willingness to play tonight by her rules. She was shaken from her internal thoughts as they came to the intersection of Russel and Pratt – and her mouth fell open as she got her first look at the Neon Harbor.

Even at close to 3AM, the harbor was still lit up and active. A million neon lights scintillated through the night air from the various bars and venues along the waterfront that still had patrons and performers going about the business of entertaining and having a good time. Her eyes immediately came to rest on the “Open 24 hours” sign above Digital Alexandria - a four story “book” store that offered both digital and the much more expensive, old fashioned paper media along with music, movies, coffee, and snacks... and likely halfway decent tea. The Aquarium was not to be outdone – even closed, the outer walls still glowed with neon artwork depicting various marine life and scenery. Further out, the USS Constellation floated silently at anchor, the full moon shining from her masts as the electric displays on the inside of the sea wall backlit her in a riot of florescence, while underneath her the harbor waters themselves seemed to glow as they reflected everything back into the sky and across her wooden hull.

Sean let out a low whistle. “I'm startin' to see what you mean, sis. This isn't like any of the ports back home.”

Moxie slowly shook her head. “I've seen a fair share more harbors than you lad, and I've not seen anything like this. Wasn't expecting it to be so damn pretty.”

Checking to see that no one was behind them, Sean opted to sit at the light as it turned green to take in the scene a bit longer, his eyes darting everywhere. “Wait.... izzat a wood ship? With sails and cannons and all that?”

“I'd heard rumors about it being here, but seeing is believing, for certain.” She cast a sideways glance at her brother “and don't think I can't tell what you're thinkin'. You're a car thief, not a pirate.”

Sean grinned and slowly shook his head. “Can't say the thought hadn't crossed my mind, but where would I sell the damn thing?”

A half dozen answers filtered through Moxie's mind, none of which she said out loud so as not to encourage him. The thought process did bring something else to mind though. “Not much market for a two century old warship, but I wanted to touch on something you said earlier.”

“Oh yeah? What's that?”

As he finally hit the accelerator and made the turn onto Pratt, Moxie explained. “Earlier you said the O.C.M.E. sounded like Yank for something important, ya? You can't be usin' that term here, lad. Baltimore's a free city, and the folk that live here are proud o' that something fierce. They're not Yanks, and they'd probably take a rather dim view of being called such.”

“Makes sense when you put it like that. I'd probably throw hands at someone who called me a Brit.”

“Exactly.  A lot of these people have kin that bled for the right to not be Yanks.”

He nodded in approval. “And good on 'em fer that. I'll keep it in mind.”

The glow of the harbor receded behind them as the corporate skyscrapers gave way to shoddy rowhomes and beat up, well used offices and warehouses. A few minutes passed before a new neon sign lit up the night sky in blue and white: Orpheus: All Lost Souls Welcome. The building itself was made of brick decorated with a graffiti style mural depicting the titular hero on one side of the door, addressing Hades and Persephone across from him on the other side. At the bottom of the mural, the words “never look back” were scrawled in a reflective paint that caught the light from the sign and glowed nearly as brightly, along with an artist's tag that read “Eris”. On the sidewalk in front of the club, a huge troll woman stood cleaning a weapon that had to have been meant for a vehicle mount. Beside her sat a male human with messy, white-blonde hair in a hoodie, headphones hanging from his neck and a pair of goggles on his forehead as he sat cross legged, appearing to be meditating. The troll looked up from the loving affection she was showing to her cannon as they approached. Sean slowed down as Moxie rolled the passenger side window down.

“Oi, I'm lookin' fer a Nikki and an Alex?”

The meditating man's eyes popped open, startling Moxie with a bright teal glow before the light faded and they returned to a deep blue. The troll nodded. “You found 'em. Are you Moxie?”

“That's me.”

Nikki looked down to the sitting man as those blue eyes somehow unfocused while simultaneously focusing on Moxie's face. After a few seconds they returned to normal and his face softened as he nodded. “Yeah, that's her. Them. Both of them.”  She whispered something inaudible to him while she offered him a hand up, which he accepted. “Yeah, I'm alright. Just got caught a little off guard by... nevermind. It's been a long day, don't worry about it.”

Nikki gave Alex a dubious look before turning to address Moxie again. “Pull around to the side, she's waitin' for you.”

Sean did as instructed while the two on the sidewalk followed on foot, finding several empty parking spaces and backing into one while Moxie scanned the lot. The only other vehicles were three motorcycles, one of which was troll sized. At the far end, a dumpster occupied the corner formed by the building and a chain link fence running the length of the parking lot out to the street. Another human man with Italian features and impossibly perfect hair sat on one of the bikes, smoking a cigarette and looking somewhere between bored and annoyed. He looked up as Sean cut the engine and the siblings got out.

“So you're our plus-one and...our plus-one's plus-one?” He looked the two of them up and down, his gaze lingering just long enough on Moxie to make her uncomfortable. “I'm not sure I like this. You two ever even been on an op before?”

Before either of them could answer, Nikki and Alex rounded the corner. Moxie noticed that they were wearing matching leather jackets, as was the rude Italian; black with the words Ruckus Crew in gold lettering, her trained eye following the lines of armor plating concealed under the leather – actual leather, she noted. She watched as Alex took the scene in, looking from Sean, to Moxie, to the Italian, and then following the Italian's gaze back to Moxie's chest before looking up with an irritated expression. “Coltello, put your eyes back in your fucking skull and stop being a dickhat.” His gaze drifted back to her in that strange unfocused manner from earlier, and for a second she could swear that she saw tiny flickers of light in them. He stared at her like she was a puzzle he was trying to piece together, the far-off look contrasting with his youthful face in a way that set her on edge. “She's seen as much shit as any of us, maybe more than some of us. Hard to tell....” He cocked his head and squinted slightly. “...so much swirling around her, like a storm of....” he kept talking almost inaudibly, staring at her unblinkingly and creeping her out even more before asking “Are you where you're supposed to be?”

Nikki looked over at him and seemed to understand what was going on. “Oh crap. Torvi, the mage is broken. Toss me the repair kit.”

From behind the dumpster came a voice Moxie recognized from the comm call at the hotel earlier. “I'm not exactly dressed back here.”

“Just toss it, I'll catch it!”

“Fine, catch!” A bare arm appeared over the top of the dumpster and lobbed a ziplock bag containing some patches and something chrome and cylindrical through the air. True to her word, Nikki snatched the blindly thrown bag out of the air effortlessly before turning back to the rambling, mumbling man in the hoodie and leather.

“Alex. Hey, Alex. Alex!!” The third time she said his name, he startled and looked at her. “You're bein' weird again. Here, turn around.” Without waiting for him to comply, Nikki grabbed his shoulders, spun him around 180 degrees, and slapped a patch directly onto the back of his neck. His eyes went wide in surprise as he sucked in a breath through his teeth with a sharp hiss, suddenly aware of reality once again.

“Hoo-wow, that's cold!!”

“Always is. Now drink your potion and stay in this world for me, ok?”

He popped the thermos open, steam rising as the scent of coffee strong enough to stand up and slap someone assailed Moxie's nostrils. “Ohhhh, that's got espresso in it.”

“Good, now drink it.”

Alex didn't respond – he was too busy guzzling the contents of the thermos. Moxie crossed her arms over her chest and quirked an eyebrow up at Nikki.  "What's in there? Just coffee?"

The troll chuckled. "Saying that's just coffee is only true technically. The only thing stronger than me is the coffee Alex drinks."

She gave the troll a quick look up and down, both eyebrows climbing towards her hairline. Glancing over at Sean, who was leaning against the van and openly yawning wide, she felt the itch of her own exhaustion tugging at her eyelids. Well that won't do.

"Oi, Magic Man. If you want a functional eye in the sky, save me a mouthful."

At length, he came up for air, wiping his mouth on his jacket sleeve. “Holy gods and devils, I needed that.” He turned his head towards Moxie. “Hey, give me a second and if you don't mind, we can try that whole first impression thing again, maybe? I promise I'm not usually stuck between worlds like that.” Somewhere in the background, Coltello scoffed at that statement.

Moxie just stared at him, having no idea how to respond. “I, uh.... I guess?”

Alex nodded to her as he took in a deep breath and held it. His eyes glowed with that teal light again, this time with tiny flecks of color floating upwards like sparks from a bonfire. He slowly released the breath and the glow faded as he did. When he returned to normal, he smiled at Moxie and extended a hand. “Hi, I'm Alex, and I promise I'm not usually crazy. I didn't want to use my sober-up spell, but in this case I guess I should have.”

She took his hand. “Moxie. That's my little brother Sean. You have a spell that can sober someone up?”

He shrugged. “Not quite. It doesn't actually sober you up, it just tricks the body into thinking you're sober, which is why I don't like using it too much. It's less sobering up and more temporarily raising your tolerance to a high enough level that the drugs don't have the same effect. I wasn't expecting to have business after tonight's party, otherwise I'd be more prepared.”

The disembodied voice echoed from behind the dumpster again. “That's on me. Usually the only person Alex puts at risk is himself. I'm hoping you'll excuse our current state.  Like I said earlier, this little adventure was last minute.” A moment later a tall elf woman emerged, skinny enough to look almost fragile and dressed in the same leather jacket, but with purple lettering. Black cyberlocks were tied back in a messy pony tail ending halfway down her back, and the jacket was augmented with a second layer of external combat armor covering vital areas on the outside. Cerebral implants lined both sides of her head, disappearing behind her hair and flashing with a slow pattern of LEDs.

Moxie nodded to Alex. “Tell you what, all's forgiven if I can have some of what you got in that thermos. The hotel tea...” she finished the statement with a silent grimace. Alex cocked an eyebrow at her with a grin and offered her the thermos, saying nothing. She took the container from him with a roll of her eyes, tipping her head back to take a hearty gulp... and instantly jerked her head to the side as if she'd been slapped. Her eyes squeezed shut as she fought both the urge to cough and to keep her practiced soldier's deadpan. The immediate burn flared through her throat and sinuses, and as it hit her stomach, she knew she'd be tasting the black death for hours; several hours...for which she would now be wide awake. She looked at the mage in skeptical horror. "You don't have any cyberware... right? All meatsuit and magic?"

"One hundred percent natural aside from the hair and some tats. Well, supernatural, but you get the idea." For the second time in as many minutes, Coltello scoffed at his statement.

Moxie grimaced, wiping her mouth with the back of one hand while handing the thermos back.  "You allow yerself to process that battery acid organically!? No buffers? You might be the craziest one of this lot!"

He laughed before finishing off the thermos. "Not the first time I've heard that, but it would be a shame to put a buffer between myself and actual, not soy, coffee. For the sake of full honesty though, I don't always make it quite this strong."

“Well, if that beater I found runs out of fuel, we can always put this in the tank. What kind of day did you have that you need to drink that?"

"Well, let's see...." his eyes got a far off look as he checked things off on his fingers. "Motorcycle race through the inner harbor with a psychotically homicidal goblin on so many C-chems that we think they chromed out his heart. Said goblin damn near killed one of our friends. Baiting said goblin into following me into a 30 foot jump over a guard rail after blinding him - I survived, my bike is on life support, he didn't. Then interrupting what was about to be the start of a massive gang war while Torvi embarrassed the leader of the Hellions, the psychotic goblin's gang, and then coming here to celebrate. The Chosen giving me a surprise honor that I was, until roughly four hours ago, too culturally ignorant to fully understand, and then spending those four hours DJing for two worlds at the same time while perceiving them both, which is what I'm trying to sober up from. Oh yeah, and I lost the race to that guy," he waved in a slightly irritated manner towards Coltello. "First time I've ever lost to anyone other than Torvi, and she cheats. How was your day?"

Moxie blinked rapidly and flicked her eyes down and up the wiry mage, looking for any twitch or sign he was deceiving her. She recognized The Chosen as a gang from her homeland, but the rest... when she found none, she turned to Nikki.  "He's fucking with me, right? This some kind of rite of passage your crew does?"

Nikki shook her head. "Nope. Alex is good at lots of stuff, but he's shit at lying."

The tall elf woman approached the three of them, picking up where Nikki left off. "To be fair, this isn't what a typical day with us is like, and everything that Alex just listed off is related. Glad to see you're in one piece, by the way."

Moxie turned around to meet the woman and put a face to the voice that had invited her on this venture. “Glad to be in one piece. Ravenqueen, I assume?”

“Torvi in person, Ravenqueen is my online persona,” She extended a hand, which Moxie noted was gloved before taking it. “You've already met Nikki and Alex. The Prettyboy over there is Coltello. We have another but he won't be with us tonight.”

Alex looked up from emptying the thermos. “Yeah, does anyone know what Barney is up to? He mentioned something cryptic about saving lives but he was gone before I could ask questions, and even if we weren't busy at the station, trying to follow him is an exercise in accepting failure gracefully.”

“No idea, and it's not as if the old man keeps a schedule and itinerary.  Anyone?” Torvi looked around to see a collection of shrugs. “Well, calculations indicate that he'll get himself out of whatever trouble he gets into, so we'll most likely find out when he resurfaces.”

Moxie swept her gaze across the motley assembly and shook her head with a grin. "You bunch make dancin' with some ghoul gals sound like child's play."

Alex shuddered slightly at the mention of ghouls. "Ick."

Torvi looked from him back to Moxie. "A couple?"

Sean yawned dramatically from where he sat on the hood of the van and casually held up three fingers. Moxie shot him a look then turned back to the rest, her mouth a grim line. "What he said. Nothin' we couldn't handle. Iz'at a problem you have a lot of around here? Not exactly a good look for the tourists."

Torvi nodded. "Millersville is overrun, and it's too far out for any of the corps to bother cleaning it up. Baltimore is a different situation – there's too much money coming through the harbor and the airport for the corps to risk it. Infestations pop up from time to time, but they get ruthlessly put down."

Alex looked from Moxie to Sean. "Three of 'em, huh? We were hoping you got out before they knew you were there. A pack can be nasty business." He fished something out of his jacket pocket and tossed it to Sean. “Catch, kid. It's not quite as potent as my coffee, but it should make the yawns go away.”

Sean caught the energy drink, popped the top, and leaned back against the windshield while lighting a cigarette. "They might have caught me off-guard, but nothin' gets past her."

Moxie snorted and rolled her eyes, but the tips of her pointed ears turned the faintest shade of pink before she turned back to Torvi. "So, business? What brings us to the er...morgue?"

"Remember that psychotic goblin Alex mentioned? We're stealing his corpse before it gets autopsied. He was a racer for a gang out of the DC Hellscape called the Inferno Hellions, and the idea that they have access to military grade drugs and implants is potentially very bad."

"Military grade, huh? For a bike race? That's...huh..." She shifted from foot to foot, crossing her arms over her chest. "Been on the receiving end of those before. Not something you want to use lightly, and certainly not on an untrained civilian."

"Agreed. Our intel suggests that the artificial heart they put in him is the same one the U.S. uses for fighter pilots. Given the sheer quantity of C-chems in his blood, it's the only thing I can think of that would have allowed him to keep functioning and not die from a massive heart attack."

"Fascinating little lab rat, huh? Alright then. Where d'you need me?"

"I'm going to hack into their network, disable security, and retrieve any relevant data files. Alex is going to handle any magical security and keep Nikki company while she retrieves the body so there aren't any other surprises only he would notice.  Coltello will be running his charming, smooth talking interference on any security that happen to be there-"

"-when I should be getting laid."

"-shut up, amante. And you will be keeping overwatch so those three don't have a conniption fit about me being on-site without backup."

Moxie suddenly felt three pairs of eyes on her at once.  “Right. You expectin' a lot of outside interference then?”

“I'm not expecting any at all, but these three don't care about logic and calculations when it comes to me.”

"Acknowledged." Moxie nodded.

"And me?" Sean piped up, sliding off of the van's hood.

Moxie rounded on him, feeling her temper rising again. "And you are staying put."

Sean set his jaw. "Aye, right here. In the driver's seat of this metal sloth."

Her eyes softened almost imperceptibly when she looked at him. She kept her relieved nod and small smile brief. Alex looked back and forth between the two before looking back to Moxie and giving her a sympathetic, knowing smile of his own.

Torvi was busy giving the van a once over. “Not a bad choice. Lots of room and absolutely unremarkable to look at, unless you're into rust.” She nodded once in satisfaction. “Nikki, can you fit in that?”

Nikki shrugged, opened the back doors, and climbed in. The frame sagged noticeably under her weight, but seemed otherwise fine. “I gotta squat a bit, but that's gonna happen with anything I suppose. Hey, it's got a little sunroof back here too! Classy!”

"Alright," Torvi announced. "Let's get this op moving.  Coltello and Nikki, send your bikes home. We don't need a convoy of souped up motorcycles following a van that's supposed to be inconspicuous."  She turned to address Moxie as the pair of motorcycles started up and left the parking lot on their own. "Can he drive this thing?"

"Who, him?" She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at Sean, who visibly perked up. "You won't find better."

"Excellent. I'm not expecting any real trouble with this, but it's best to be prepared against any outside probabilities. Let's move. Alex, you're riding with me. 'Tello and Nikki in back. Moxie, I'm assuming you're riding shotgun."

Coltello straightened up and looked Moxie and Sean over again before speaking. "Hold up, I have questions about all this. Where did these two come from? How do we know we can trust them?"

Torvi rolled her eyes, ears twitching in annoyance. "I already told you, Moxie was pre-vetted by my contact for our next job. I trust their judgment."

He scoffed. "Oh, ok. I'll just trust this unknown contact you met half an hour ago-"

"- I assure you that I've spent far more than just half an hour in conversation with them." Coltello squinted his eyes at her with a questioning look, but said nothing.

Moxie glanced at the two quarreling lovers before butting in. "Glad to know they've been just as cryptic about their identity with you as they have with me. Seems like a good enough client, though." She slapped Sean on the shoulder and gestured towards the van, wordlessly telling him to get it running before turning her gaze to Coltello. "Sync your comms with me, amico.  Happy to answer what I can along the way. No promises though."

Torvi looked relieved to hear Moxie jump in. "I know you all have questions, but we're on a clock here. I'll answer what I can on the way, and I'll get into the details once we're back at Sanctuary. For now though, I need you to trust that I've never set us up on a bad op, and get in the fucking van."

Coltello grumbled something under his breath, but followed Nikki to the van and pulled the back door closed. Moxie took the opportunity to catch Torvi's eye. “I'm gettin' the feeling that neither of us know the full story here.”

She shrugged. “Probably not, but when does a client ever give the full story about an op?”

“Good point, that. We can go over the details later.”

Torvi nodded and mounted the remaining motorcycle, Alex taking a seat behind her as Moxie climbed into the passenger seat of the van and Sean started the engine. As they pulled out, she got patched into the group comms channel, and then passed Sean a whisper mic and ear piece before patching him in. Alex's voice was the first she heard coming through.

“Alright Torv, the team's got a whole lot of questions. Care to answer what you can while we're en route?”

“First off,” Coltello huffed, “I'd like to know why we're on our way to O.C.M.E. La piccola merda is road paste, and the Hellions ran off back to DC. Why's this so critical?”

As the group made the left turn onto Lombard, Torvi pulled out in front of the van. “Keep some distance between us, Sean. We don't want it to look like you're following me. There'll be a parking garage serving the facility on the ground floor, it's usually used to offload bodies. That's our way in, and it'll keep the vehicles out of sight from the road. I'll get us past the security booth. Now, questions.” She audibly took a breath.

“We're doing this so we can get our hands on Pinball's corpse before they autopsy it and stash all the interesting bits and information away. We have intel indicating that Pinball had a military grade artificial heart implanted, supposedly the kind the U.S. gives their fighter pilots.”

“Intel from who?”

“Someone I trust,” Torvi replied.

“Eris,” Alex said simultaneously. Moxie flashed back to the artist signature on the wall of Orpheus, but said nothing for now.

“Really? The poca sputa, eh? Normally I'd question getting intel from a teenage girl, but I wouldn't put anything past that one. How'd she find this out?”

A relieved note crept into Torvi's voice as they stopped at a red light. “She's been rather dodgy about the specifics, which shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone-”

“Of course.”

“-but it matches up with the lab work I ran on his blood. In fact, after running the numbers it's the only thing I can think of that would allow for him to be on that many C-chems and not have a massive heart attack, especially with the size of a goblin's heart. If the Hellions have access to both military grade chems and military grade implants, I want to know.”

“And see, this makes more sense to me now. Those stronzo won't stay in the Hellscape if they can bring actual military hardware to a war, and Baltimore would be the first place they'd try to expand to.”

“Exactly.”

“Um, question from the recent immigrant?” Sean's voice crackled. “Hellscape? Whazzat?”

“That's DC kid,” Nikki answered. “Between a nuke from the S.F. and a massive magical attack from the Native Tribes, ain't much left there now other'n things you don't want to meet.”

“Right... and this S.F.?”

“Oh yeah, Southern Federation. Them's the southern states that broke away after the Native Tribes declared war. They didn't wanna be associated with the word Confederate and all that nastiness, so they came up with a new name.”

“I gotcha. And these Hellion guys, they live there? By choice?”

“Yup. Beats me as to why. Ain't many places I'd be afraid to go, but the DC Hellscape is number one on that list.”

“Sounds like a charming group.”

“And that,” Torvi chimed in, “is why I want this data.”

“Right right, amante. So where do our new arrivals factor into this?”

“Directly? They don't. I came up with this little adventure while we were dancing, and then I was contacted about another job. That client arranged for Moxie and I to make contact in two days, but I figured you three would be less likely to throw a tantrum about me being on-site if I had someone watching me, plus it seemed like a good opportunity to work on group cohesion and the like.”

“So you got us two jobs tonight? What's this second job?”

“Later, Coltello. We're here.”

Moxie watched from the passenger seat as the van approached a four story building that took up an entire city block, letting out a low whistle. “Place is huge. You know where we're going?”

“Not yet, but once I'm in the system I will. This should be a quick in and out according to the calculations I made earlier.”

The motorcycle ahead of them turned right down an alley, and then made a left into a parking garage built into the main building. It stopped briefly at a toll gate where Torvi ran a cable from her implants into the kiosk. Ten seconds later the gate bar lifted as Alex shifted into the driver's seat, Torvi disconnecting and taking the rear seat while she parsed data. “Cameras in the parking deck are shut down, but I'll need a better access point to get inside the rest of the system.  Alex, park us by that elevator, it goes directly to the main morgue on the second floor and it should have what I need.”

Moxie looked around. “Place is well lit for a parking deck.”

“O'couse it is, sis. Can't have any dark corners for the zombies to hide in.”

Moxie gave her brother a sour look, but before she could say anything Nikki's excited voice burst through the comm. “Ohh, zombies?! Hell yeah! It'll be just like Zombie Manor 3!! I wonder if I can score a triple headshot?”

Torvi attempted to hold in her exasperated sigh, but the sensitive whisper mics picked it up anyway. “There won't be any zombies, Nikki. Zombies aren't real.”

“Aww...”

Moxie grinned. “See what you did, lad? You went and got the girl all excited just to be let down and disappointed. Seems like a trend for you tonight.”

Alex's voice filled the comm over a burst of static. “Um, actually.... about that whole 'zombies aren't real' thing?”

Torvi cut him off before he could finish. “Shut up, Alex. Zombies aren't real and no one wants to hear the mage tell us why we're wrong about that.”

“Alright then, have it your way. So, main morgue?”

“Yes, They have a smaller, higher security morgue on the top floor for bio-hazards and similar threats.”

“Bio-hazards like zombies?” Nikki asked excitedly.

Moxie and Torvi both replied “No.” Alex and Sean both replied “Yes.”

Coltello just watched, quietly, as Nikki got what the team affectionately called the Murder Look on her face.

Sean pulled the van in beside Torvi's bike, and Moxie grabbed her carbine and was out of her seat almost before he put the rust bucket in park. Before closing the door, she looked back at Sean. “Alright lad, Stay. Put. And if anything happens that seems questionable, you let us know ASAP.”

“You mean more questionable than what we're doin'?”

“Ya, that.”

He nodded. “I'll keep the engine running. Not sure it'll start back up if I don't, honest talk.”

She closed the door, pushing back the pang of guilt she felt for involving him in this, and convened with the rest of the team at the elevator. “Watchdog on duty. How we playin' this?”

Torvi was already inside the elevator and hard-connected to the control panel. Her voice came through comms, but her lips never moved. “Well, originally you and I were going to stay right here while those three went in, but we have a couple of unforeseen complications.”

“Complications?”

“Yes. The security system is a separate network from their data system. That means I'm going to have to go in to connect with it. On top of that, it looks like they're using old fashioned mechanical door locks along with the regular electric mag locks. I can't hack a dead bolt.”

Nikki rolled her shoulders with a grin, her armored leather jacket creaking. “That won't stop me, I'll just kick'em down.” To emphasize her point, she threw a front kick in the air, giving Moxie a good look at the bottom of a combat boot that was nearly the size of her torso.

Alex looked over at the troll. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I think the idea is to leave as little evidence that we were here as possible.”

“Aww, no zombies and now this? No one wants me to have any fun on this op!”

Torvi disconnected and raised her eyebrows. “And I appreciate you trying to stick to my plan, Alex, but I'm unsure of what other options we have.”

Moxie closed her eyes, let out a slow breath, and opened them. “Hang on a sec. I figure if you're goin' in, I'm comin' with you anyway.” She walked away from the elevator at a brisk trot and knocked on the driver's side window of the rusty van. I suppose this was unavoidable no matter how hard I tried.

Sean rolled the window down, another cigarette hanging from his lips. “Ya, whatcha need sis?”

“Gimme yer kit.”

“My kit?”

“Yes, yer kit.”

“Don't know what'cher on about. What kit?”

“Don't play coy with me right now, lad. Gimme the lock kit you've been usin' to lift cars. I'll give it back when I'm done.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine, hang on.” It took him a few seconds of rummaging around in the rucksack he set between the two seats before producing a flat plastic rectangular case about an inch thick that could slide into a pants pocket. “Just don't break anything, alright? I'm not sure where to get a replacement around here yet. You know how to use this stuff?”

Moxie winked at him “You think the only thing they taught me in the Fianna was how to shoot?”

“I dunno, you an Da never talk about it.” He passed the slim plastic case to her through the window.

“Good lad. Keep behaving and maybe I'll tell ya later.”

He scoffed. “Yeah yeah, I'll believe that when it happens. Get movin.”

She jogged back over to the elevator. “I'm your way in, looks like. You ready to move, Torvi?”

“Yes, I was at least able to get a layout. Change of plans. Alex, you got closest to the little green psychopath, do you think his corpse will still have any residual chi you can pick out?”

Alex scrunched his face up, partially in thought and partially in distaste. “Maybe, but we need to move fast and I can't promise that. If he had a lot of cyberware, there won't have been as much of him for the energy to cling to in the first place. Plus, dead chi is pretty gross. It's.... sticky, like tar, and there's probably going to be a lot of it if this place is as big as it seems.”

“Alright then. Coltello, you're our back door. I want you covering our exit in case anything goes wrong. Alex, Nikki, this elevator should take us right to where you need to go on the second floor. Find him, bag him, get out. Moxie, you're with me. We're going to the fourth floor, that's where executive access to the data center is.”

Coltello shifted his eyes to Torvi, a worried look on his face. “You can't get in through one of the terminals on the morgue floor, amante?”

“Not unless I want to leave the digital equivalent of a huge gaping hole in their security system, which I'd rather not do. Stealth is always better than brute force when it comes to hacking, and punching upwards through several layers of security is definitely the brute force option. Stay here, and if anyone decides to show up for work early charm their pants off. Figuratively.”

“I'm not too sure what the topics of conversation that would interest someone who prefers to talk to dead people would be, but I'll wing it.”

“I'm positive you'll manage. Let's move, Ruckus.”

As they piled into the elevator and it began to rise, Moxie couldn't help but take note that Torvi had included her in that last statement. Fifteen seconds later, the doors clattered open onto a small antechamber with institutional white drywall and a set of double security doors ahead of them. As promised, the mag locks were disengaged already.

“I've already disabled security, Moxie. It should be safe for you to get us in.”

“Right then. I'm a bit rusty, but here goes.” She opened the case, removing a cylindrical object no longer than a screwdriver from within. Several thin metal probes also occupied the case, one of which she slid into a socket on the end of the device before inserting it into the lock. The cylinder started whirring quietly, and a little over a minute and three probe changes later, the lock clicked open. “And we're in.”

“Nice work. This elevator ends here, so let's find our way upstairs while these two locate our dead goblin.”

Moxie nodded, feeling a bit of professional pride as she opened the door into the darkened room beyond. “After you, Nikki.” The four of them made their way through the door and into a massive, darkened room beyond. Five steps in, a series of automated lights clicked to life, bathing the entire area in bright, sterile, industrial white light.

An enormous autopsy suite stretched out before them, fifty feet long and thirty five feet wide, and lined on either side with work areas consisting of a stainless steel table, a sink, and countertops filled with surgical tools, chemicals, and a single computer terminal each. The acrid scent of powerful disinfectant filled the air, competing with the too-bright lights for the title of most irritating thing in the room. Above them, nearly invisible behind the glare, a set of windows ran the border of the room at the ceiling, allowing whoever sat in the third floor gallery beyond to look down on the proceedings in the room.

Torvi visibly winced. “Jesus, it's brighter than daytime in here.”

Alex slid his goggles over his eyes to filter out the harsh light. “Yeah, literally. Look around – there isn't a single shadow in this whole room. Nothing to interfere with the M.E. staff's work – they don't want to miss a single detail.”

“This place is....ugh. It's giving me a headache just being in here. I can't imagine working an eight hour shift like this. The morgue is in the next room, can we stop gawking and move?”

They set out across the suite as Torvi attempted to shield her eyes with a gloved hand, footsteps echoing eerily in the empty room. After what felt like an hour under the oppressive glare to Moxie but was more likely less than a minute, she ran the lockpick gun through another door on the far end and opened it, revealing a chilly, warehouse like room lined along the walls with row upon row of stainless steel sliding drawers, each bearing a digital readout of the information pertaining to the drawer's occupant. The center of the room was occupied with six double rows of the same type of body refrigeration units.

Alex lifted his eyebrows in mild surprise. “Good news for me, bad news for us. This place is completely devoid of any leftover stagnant mana. Seems like they take their magical sterility as seriously as their physical. Honestly, I'm impressed.”

Torvi glanced in his direction. “Does that mean that the overachieving janitor mage will be able to tell that we've been here?”

“Not unless he's the very first person to arrive and he comes alone, and given the size of this place there's no way one person handles it alone. Our trace energy will just get lost in the usual day to day traffic of everyone who's supposed to be here.”

Nikki just stood there, looking up at the rows with wide eyes “Holy crap, there's soooo many. How we gonna find this little bastard?”

Torvi, visibly more comfortable after leaving the autopsy suite, took a look around as well. “There should be a terminal in here somewhere for record keeping.” She pulled a data chip from one of her cerebral sockets and handed it to the troll. “Plug this in and it should get you past any passwords. Then just run a search. Don't bother using his name, he's probably listed as a John Doe. Search for goblins and motor vehicle accidents, that should get you somewhere.”

Alex took the tiny chip out of Nikki's enormous hand. “I'll handle that part, pretty sure their keyboard won't be designed for troll fingers anyway. Nikki, see if you can find where they keep the body bags. I'm not trying to get covered in rancid goblin ooze tonight.”

Nikki made an awful face. “Gross. Why'd you have to say it like that?”

Sliding his goggles back up onto his forehead, Alex grinned at her. “Because I wanted to be sure I was properly communicating the level of grossness I want to avoid. You know, just for clear communication and mission cohesiveness.”

“Well, it worked, and I'd like to avoid any cohesiveness the goblin goo makes, thank you very much.”

“Ugh.” Alex made a face similar to Nikki's while she laughed at his suffering. As the two set off to see to their respective tasks, Moxie nodded in satisfaction at the division of labor. “Guess we're going up then?”

Torvi was still smirking at her teammates. “Next stop, penthouse office. Stick with us, we'll take you to the strangest and most inappropriate places you never knew you didn't want to see.”

Moxie grinned, mentally keeping track of the route they took to the next elevator as they walked. “Gotta admit that your crew isn't what I was expecting, at least so far.”

They rounded a corner, coming into another room full of lab equipment. “In what way?”

“This job for instance. Or more to the point, the reasons for it. It's borderline community service in a way. Most crews I've worked with are concerned about profit and that's about it.”

Torvi nodded. “Most crews don't have much in terms of long term planning. Alex and I are a bit different in that way. Baltimore is our home, same with Nikki, and it's not just a city, it's a living organism – things tend to have a domino effect here that hits everyone sooner or later, and the numbers and probability on the Hellions becoming a big, destructive domino are higher than I like.”

“So enlightened, self serving community service?”

The hacker grinned. “I'm a doctor. An ounce of prevention is almost always a better option than using a pound of C-4 as a cure.”

Moxie smirked back as the seemingly aloof hacker warmed up to her a bit. “Aye, and does an apple a day still keep the doctor away?”

“Absolutely not. I may not always be the most profit oriented girl, but actual, real apples instead of the imitation soy apples the corps love to push on us? Grown from an actual apple tree? That's a compelling motive to leave my moral compass at the door and do some very shady shit.”

Passing through the lab and another locked door, the pair came to the second elevator, this one more suited to the building aesthetic than the glorified cargo elevator they used to gain entry. Tovi hit the up button. “According to the schematics, the only elevator to the fourth floor is back across the building, and they've got auto-turrets guarding it. The likelihood of them still being active is low, but let's be careful just as a precaution.”

“Right. I'm not interested in you fishing bullets and bone fragments out of me later on, Doctor.”

Torvi nodded in agreement before the doors slid closed silently. Thirty seconds later, the same doors opened up onto what looked to be a typical, upscale apartment living room – brown carpet, off-white paint, couches, tables, a vid set, and even paintings on the walls.

Moxie took a look around, the cognitive dissonance hitting her hard. “What.... th' hell is this?”

Torvi's voice momentarily went flat as she also scanned the room, running information and numbers. “Probability indicates a training suite. Mock fatalities are staged here.” The life returned to her expression and voice as she turned to address Moxie. “Next best thing to an actual crime scene, I suppose. Makes me wonder how often they have to replace the carpeting, though.”

“Well, that's only a mildly disturbin' thought.”

“Not as disturbing as all the diseases the carpet would absorb from the cadavers if they didn't change it regularly. Even a deep cleaning loses effectiveness after repeated exposure.”

“Huh. I figured a little bit of soap and disinfectant would do the job well enough.” Unable to resist her curiosity, Moxie began poking around the mock apartment – living room, kitchen, bathroom, two bedrooms, and even an attic crawlspace.

“No, that's how you get resistant strains of things like Ebola, Tuberculosis, HIV, Cholera, E Coli, Rotavirus, Salmonellosis, Shigellosis, and the whole Typhoid and Hepatitis family. To say nothing of any secondary diseases that might have been carried.”

“That's, uh... wow, Ebola?”

“Low probability, but possible. This is a port city.”

“Far be it from me to question an expert, but that seems a bit paranoid to me as a laywoman.”

Torvi sighed. “Statistically it is, but it's still not something I can risk. It's.... ugh.” She turned away, ears twitching and looking flustered. “It's a phobia. It's not logical, but it's not something I can control and I hate it.”

Realizing she was treading on sensitive ground, Moxie nodded and moved to the 'front door'. “Phobias usually have a cause.”

“I have Prospero's Disease. My implants were installed before I hit puberty, and when I did my immune system triggered a mass rejection response. It nearly killed me. I've been on immuno-supressors since to survive, so.... yeah. Logically, your theory makes sense.”

“Jaysus. And yet here you are, in this line of work.”

She shrugged. “Yup. It's why the rest of the team is so worked up over me being on an op in person. It's not just the disease factor – I don't heal from injuries as quickly, either. Usually Alex is in charge in person and I'm coordinating things from home over the web, but sometimes I have to be on site, and the drugs don't pay for themselves. Let's get moving, we're still on a schedule.”

“Right. In and out.” Moxie stowed away the rest of her questions and opened the door, revealing the gallery that looked down onto the autopsy suite, which had gone dark again. She moved out into the hall, taking note that one of the rows of windows looked down into the autopsy suite on one side and the morgue on the other, and covering Torvi's approach as they moved down darkened hallways towards the end of the building they had originally come in at. Moving quickly, they reached the other end of the gallery and another locked door. Moxie used the electronic lockpick again before nudging the door open with the toe of her boot.

“What. The fuck.”

The door opened onto a rectangular room roughly the size of a college classroom, complete with rows of desks. On each desk sat a unique dollhouse, complete with startlingly lifelike figures, each one depicting a different crime scene or fatality of some kind. As her gaze moved from desk to desk, she noted that further back, the dollhouses gave way to miniature panoramas of various other settings – a city street, what looked to be a convenience store, a gas station, and assorted other potential crime scenes. Torvi entered the room behind her silently, the look on her face just as surprised as Moxie's.

“This place just gets creepier the further in we go.”

Torvi nodded her agreement silently, moving from desk to desk, taking in each scene as she went. “I think these are teaching devices. Each one can be rearranged to represent a different fatality scene. This is forensics training.” She looked up from the morbidly accurate miniatures to catch Moxie's eye. “That's the logical answer. My meat brain is in complete agreement with you – this is creepy as all hell. I'd love to see a psychological workup on the staff here.”

“Tell ya what, you can look into that and give me the abridged version of your findings, because against my better judgment I'm curious too. For now, let's just get the hell out of here and keep moving.” She moved to the far end of the room and started working on yet another locked door, this one a bit more stubborn that the last. When she finally got it open, she looked behind her and realized that Torvi wasn't on her heels - she was seemingly enraptured with one of the houses, repositioning furniture in the living room and placing dolls in various places – the body of a woman on the couch, surrounded by a pair of girls and a dog. That wasn't the part that caught Moxie's attention though. Torvi stood, seemingly transfixed, staring at a male adult figure in her hand.

“Hey, Torvi. You comin'?”

Startled from her reverie, she looked up with a shocked expression before looking back down at her hand. For just the barest of instants, her face twisted into a mess of emotion before she dropped the doll and her business face settled back into place. “Right. No time to play house.” She straightened up without another word and joined Moxie at the door, leaving her to stuff her questions down for the second time that night.

The door opened onto another set of lab stations, identical to the first aside from the specific equipment at each station. The two made their way through in silence until they reached the far end and Alex's voice crackled to life over the comm, a quiet but persistent layer of static underneath the words. “Torv, we found our goblin. Making sure we get all the bits and pieces is going to be a process, but we should be finished here soon. Maybe ten minutes.”

“Excellent, we're about to reach the top floor. Bag him up and meet back with Coltello, and make sure to retrieve that chip I gave you and shut the terminal back down. I'd rather you didn't leave my digital fingerprints laying around.”

“Got it. See you in....?

“Approximately fifteen minutes.”

“Acknowledged.”

Moxie had been working the lockpick during the exchange, having the door open much faster than the previous ones now that she had worked the rust off of her technique. “What's the deal with his comm signal?”

“The static? I'm not sure of the details, but something about his magic causes issues with the signal. It's like the equipment picks up his magic as interference.”

“Odd. I don't know word one about magic, but that seems out of the ordinary.”

“It is. Alex isn't your typical mage.”

“Noted. Is there anything 'typical' about this crew?”

Torvi grinned at her, immediately causing her to compare the expression with that of a cat stalking prey. “Not a damn thing. That's why we're the best.”

Moxie was about to give a sarcastic reply, but stopped herself. She's heard plenty of boasting during her time in the military – enough to know the difference between ego and genuine pride when she heard it. “Well then, I'm hopin' I'm up to your standards while we're working together.”

“So far so good.”

Moxie nodded, then peeked around the door frame. There at the end of another short hallway was their elevator, flanked on either side by two ceiling mounted automated turrets, with a keypad set into the wall next to it. She silently held up her hand, stopping Torvi in her tracks. “Turrets. Lights still on.”

“Right. They should be passive, but let's be sure of that.” Rummaging through a small bag she had slung over one shoulder, she pulled out what appeared to be a full grown, sleeping raven. Intrigued, Moxie watched as the “bird” unfolded thin, metallic wings. The eyes flashed with a momentary electronic green before going dark again – easily identified as LEDs – and then the drone took off from Torvi's outstretched hand, flying down the hallway, circling each turret a few times, and then returning to her. The turrets gave no response.

“Huh. Stylish for a drone. Bet that cost a pretty penny.”

“It's less the cost of materials and more the time it takes to make them that bothers me.”

“You built that thing?!”

“I build most of my drones. I don't trust the corps not to hide spy software in the programming.... or not to use cheap materials during construction.”

Moxie nodded grimly. “Nothing worse in the field than faulty gear.”

“Agreed. Seems we're good, let's go.”

The two elves padded down the hallway, Moxie taking up a guard position as Torvi knelt down and jacked into the keypad. Her body went unnaturally still again, and a short time later the keypad lit up in a four button sequence and beeped softly. Immediately after, a hidden panel above the keypad retracted upward into the wall and a small cylinder extended from the where the panel had been. A plastic chin rest fell into place below it.

“Christ, retinal scanner too,” Torvi's voice echoed in Moxie's comm. “Give me a minute...” She kept a wary eye on the turrets as the keypad on the wall lit up again, emitting the occasional beep as she counted down the seconds in her head. Exactly 4 minutes and 53 seconds after the retinal scanner appeared, Torvi's disembodied voice came through her comm again. “I need you to use the scanner. I have to have something for it to scan before I can fool it into thinking it's scanning the right retina.”

Hesitating for a half second, she took her attention from the turrets just long enough to set her chin on the rest protruding from the wall below the cylinder. A light briefly flashed into her eyes, and then the pad beeped one last time and the elevator doors opened.

Torvi abruptly came back to life. “Thank you Mr. Ted Simmons, chief financial officer. You can resume being Moxie now.”

“Huh. Didn't even notice the sudden sex change. Nice work.”

“We should be fine at this point. I doubt the security measures are in place on the other side – no reason to keep people in, just to keep them out.”

“Good to know. Could get a little dicey if we have to leave through a fourth floor window.”

The elevator rose almost silently compared to the others they had taken, opening with the soft ding of elevators from a century past onto an opulent, lavishly furnished office. Walls decorated with both classic paintings as well as contemporary holo-art accented the rich burgundy wallpaper and plush carpeting. The outside wall was one massive window with a view of the surrounding blocks spread out before them, seamless aside from the faint lines in the glass panels where they could be opened if desired. Overstuffed furniture was tastefully placed throughout the room, drawing attention to a floor-to-ceiling aquarium opposite the window array. A massive, heavy walnut table dominated the center, and at the far end sat an ornate redwood desk with a state of the art computer terminal atop it and a heavy, titanium security door with a sign reading “Warning: Bio-hazard” behind it. The desk and table alone were worth more than the rest of the room combined. Moxie let out a low whistle as she took the place in, her gaze coming to a stop on a walnut liquor cabinet that could have easily paid for her and Sean to fly back home, first class. While Torvi made a beeline for the computer, Moxie opened the cabinet and perused the contents.

“Careful not to leave any prints.”

“No worries, lass. I don't have any prints to leave.”

“Fantastic. In that case, see if they have a decent bottle of tequila while you're in there.”

Moxie grinned while the hacker got to work, finding a bottle of Clase Azul along with her personal prize, a Taoscàn dating back to before her father was born. She was just slipping the bottles into Torvi's pouch when the sound of gunfire echoed up from beneath her. A moment later, Alex's staticky voice crackled over the comm.

“Contact, contact! Torv, we've got unidentified gunmen in the morgue. Black combat gear, no markings. They saw us and fuck!” Alex's voice trailed off into something unintelligible, Nikki's battle cry coming through in the background over automatic fire. The moment he stopped mumbling, a deep, dull THUD echoed across the channel and resonated up through the building structure.

“Oi, Alex! You still with us!?”

“Yup. A bit busy for a chat right now, though.”

“What was that?”

“Me returning fire.”

Moxie looked up to find Torvi deep in the system, muttering to herself, aware of the situation but too deep to respond.  She'd have to handle things on her own for the moment.  “Numbers, weapons?”

“At least ten-” a loud crash cut him off, followed by a raucous troll bellow. “At least nine targets, armed with submachine guns and tactical armor. They're trying to cut us off from the autopsy suite. Looks like they're loading up bodies, too.”

“Sean?”

“Nothing here, sis. Eyes peeled.”

“Alright, Coltel-”

“Moving to assist. Get my girl out of there Moxie, this isn't our first rodeo.”

“Acknowledged.” Moxie looked back over to the desk. Torvi was starting to show signs of life, confusion etched all over her face as she spoke in a monotone. “There's something else here. These numbers don't make... screw it, I'm dumping it all, we can sort it later. Thirty seconds, Moxie.”

Moxie counted down the seconds as another deep, resonant thud shook the building hard enough to rattle the bottles in the liquor cabinet. She glanced over to Torvi. “The hell is he firing? I didn't see him with a gun when we came in.”

“Concentrated sound.”

She blinked in surprise. “Jaysus. Ok then, that's certainly unique.”

“Nothing typical.” The words were delivered in monotone, but a faint smile still managed to cross Torvi's face. Seconds later, the life returned to her eyes. “Ok, time to leave. Ruckus Crew, status?”

“We're holding our own, but I'd really like to leave now,” came Alex's reply. “Nikki didn't bring her cannon in, and I'm pushing my limits on magic here.”

“We're on our way.”

“Acknowledged. Wait for my signal to leave the elevator, we have a plan.”

Torvi's voice went flat again. “Confirmed, wait for signal. Moving.”

Moxie hefted her carbine, anticipation and adrenaline starting to flow in equal measure. “Ready to move out?”

“One second.” Moving quickly, she went to the window, opened one of the panels, and sent her raven drone out. “Ruckus, we have eyes in the sky. We're inbound.”

With that, the two women ran to the elevator. On the way down Moxie glanced at Torvi, noting a distant look on her face. “Hey, you still with me?”

“Yes. Monitoring the drone feed, looks like three black SUVs out back, left side of the building relative to the garage entrance. No markings.”

“So no idea who they are?”

“None. An unknown variable is at play here, possibly more than one. The data I pulled is highly irregular in several places.”

“Fantastic. Details later, run and gun now, yeah?”

“Yes.”

The elevator dinged, and both women were out and running before the door finished opening. The classroom with the dollhouses flew by in a flash, opening back onto the gallery – and giving Moxie an idea. “Ruckus Crew, can you pull back into the autopsy suite?”

Alex responded. “Yeah, but we won't be able to cover your elevator if we do.”

“What's your plan?”

“Nikki's providing mobile cover, stay behind her. I'm going to-” another blast of automatic fire cut him off, followed by the sharp retort from a heavy pistol, more harsh chanting, and... a faint beat of dance music? “- I'm going to provide concealment and a distraction as well.”

“Solid. Torvi's coming down now.”

“What are you doing?”

“My goddamned job, magic man.”

Torvi's eyebrows went up as she caught on to Moxie's plan. “How will you get down?”

“I'll figure somethin' out. Hell, the troll can catch me if nothin' else. Now move, lass!”

Torvi nodded and sprinted to the elevator, while Moxie sprinted the other way – towards the section of the gallery that overlooked the suite on one side and the morgue on the other. Firing as she went, the glass over the morgue spider-webbed before she reached it and smashed the butt of the carbine into the pane, shattering it and giving her a clear field of fire. Ignoring the tiny shards in her flesh, she shouldered her weapon and sighted on the first black clad target in one swift motion. One breath and squeeze later, the target dropped and the enemy was focused on her. Automatic fire began tracking her position as she flattened out.

The devil's come to Baltimore, boys. Try to keep up.

From her vantage point, she could see the whole battlefield. Coltello crouched down behind two of the morgue drawers that had been pulled out to serve as cover, taking pot shots as they were presented. Roughly 20 feet to his right, Nikki was returning fire with a pair of submachine guns, the weapons identical to the ones the enemy was firing and pitifully small in her hands. She ducked back behind the corner of the massive refrigeration unit she was using as cover, a stainless steel table that had been torn from the floor of the autopsy suite laying on its side a few feet away from her. Alex stood in about the same position on the other side of Coltello but in plain sight, headphones on and a strange staff made of three sections connected by short chains whirling around him as he literally danced in the hail of bullets.  Runes glowed along the center section he held and, she assumed, along the other sections as well – they were moving to fast for her to be certain. The glowing, whirling ends traced patterns in the air in front of him, bouncing bullets off of a barrier of translucent, shifting lights left in their wake as he drew fire to take the heat off of the rest of the crew. The moment their adversaries looked up and began shooting at Moxie, both Coltello and Nikki left cover and opened up with their weapons, ducking back down when their targets returned fire. Moxie fired another two rounds down into the morgue, dropping as many targets before ducking back behind a cabinet with a water dispenser and coffee maker on top. As she rolled into cover, a bullet shattered the plastic water jug, drenching her in distilled office water.

Torvi came over the comm. “In position and holding.”

“Confirmed," Alex replied.  "Go, Nikki!”

On cue, the troll bellowed out a wordless battle cry, snatched up the entire autopsy table in one hand, and sprinted towards the elevator with her improvised shield between her and the bullets. Submachine gun fire pelted the sheet of steel, some of the rounds penetrating as she barreled towards the elevator, firing overtop of her makeshift barricade as she went.

Alex barked out another order, his voice sounding strained as he did, the whirling staves never ceasing their motion. “Torvi, out!”

A comically pleasant ding rang out above the sound of the firefight as the elevator door opened. Across the room, Moxie saw Alex drop his barrier and point a hand up. A small burst of fire rushed forth from his extended finger towards the sprinkler system in the ceiling, utterly unimpressive compared to his earlier display but intense enough to trigger the fire suppression system... but not before a burst of gunfire caught him in the chest, impacting on the hidden armor plating in his jacket and spinning him to the ground. As foam and water began to rain down, Moxie switched her aim and emptied the rest of her clip in the direction the bullets had come from, giving him the time to get back to his feet and through the open doorway Coltello was guarding as Torvi and Nikki – still carrying the now perforated table – ran through right on his heels, Nikki slowing just long enough to toss the empty submachine gun aside and grab a body bag resting by the doorway. Moxie took a second slow, measured breath and loaded another mag, looking for targets to present themselves.

Alex came over the comm, exhaustion in his voice. “Thanks for the cover Moxie, now take out the window behind you and jump!”

She took one look at the drop and balked. “Are ya mad?! That's a 20 foot drop onto concrete!”

“Trust me, I'll catch you when you fall. Now jump, tuck and roll, I've got you!”

Against all better judgment and with her common sense absolutely screaming in the back of her mind, she put three rounds through the glass, and then charged forward and jumped into bright, empty space. A quarter-second into her descent, she saw Alex below her pointing and shouting. As soon as the words left his lips, a massive up-blast of wind caught her.

She tucked. She rolled. It still hurt like hell, but it worked – nothing was broken, and she came up firing as the black clad men started rushing through the door, saving Alex's life as the first man began firing at the occupied mage. Another steel table came flying on the tail end of her bullets, nearly decapitating the second man coming through and giving those behind him a reason to approach more cautiously. It was all the opportunity the crew needed - Torvi and Alex bolted down the length of the suite towards the cargo elevator, Coltello and Moxie providing covering fire as Nikki dislodged an entire cabinet from one of the lab alcoves and hurled it as hard as she could at the open door. It smashed into the wall in front of the entrance their assailants were trying to come through, the debris providing enough of a barricade for the rest of the team to reach the elevator. Coltello and Nikki rushed through the opening, Alex standing guard and waiting for the rest of his team to make it to safety. As Moxie followed them through, the mage took one last look behind them and cut loose with another spell. The air in front of him rippled for an instant before a deep, discordant bass tone shook the room and a ball of sound impacted on what was left on the cabinet Nikki had thrown. He slipped through the closing elevator door with barely enough time to spare, a stream blood running down his cheek from his forehead.

“What the hell-”

“Glass shard from the window. I'm fine.”

“You're bleeding, lad."

“I'm fine, at least for now.”

“Nikki's right, yer a shite liar. And is that dance music comin' from yer headphones?”

“Helps me focus my spells. Can we save the questions for later? I'm a little out of breath here.”

The elevator door opened and the team rushed to their vehicles. Sean, true to his word, had kept the van's engine running. “What th' hell happened in there?!”

“Not sure yet.” Nikki threw the back door open, tossing the body bag inside before piling in and pulling Moxie in after her. Coltello took the passenger side front seat.

“Unknown gunmen,” Torvi said over comms. Her bike started up and Alex hopped on behind her. “Pretty sure they were as surprised as we were. Sean, take the lead. We'll provide cover from behind if needed. Coltello, get him home.”

“Already on it, doll.”

Sean hit the accelerator, not waiting for the mechanical arm of the toll booth to raise before ramming straight through it and taking a sharp right onto the street towards the highway, Coltello barking directions as they went. Moxie looked up as a rivulet of distilled water ran down her face to see Nikki looking at her with a huge grin on her face and bleeding from a dozen holes, some of which still had flattened bullets in them just below the skin.

“Nice work in there. Welcome to Baltimore.”

“Christ, Nikki. How many times did they hit you?”

The troll grinned even wider, displaying a massive array of teeth. “I didn't stop to count. None that mattered, and that's the important part, right?”

Before she could reply, gunfire erupted behind them. Bullets ricocheted off of the outside of the van as Alex's voice came over comms again. “They're on our tails!”

Gritting her teeth and soaking wet, Moxie tossed the carbine aside and opened her other rifle case, removing a .50 caliber sniper rifle to Nikki's silent, wide eyed approval. Checking to make sure a round was chambered, she prepared to return fire while they sped through the streets of Baltimore as fast as the ancient van could manage.

“This is turning out to be one hell of a babysitting job.”