"Like I said, curry.  That and some decent tea will allow us to formulate a plan.  Perfectly happy to run it by you before we start."  She stands up to leave.

Yarrislav relaxes. "All right, that's fine. I look forward to your next visit."
This message was last updated by the player at 14:39, Mon 29 June 2020.

“Ok,” Flash said, thinking ‘Not my fault then, if the borgoisse hits the proverbial and s/he gets shot in the head’.
He stood to leave with Corey, saying “See you then, sir”.

With that, he followed Buzz out of the facility.

Granba Street is right outside the front entrance of the city's Danger Patrol headquarters. It isn't long before the agents are walking down Staging Street.

It's a noticeably dirtier and less-well-lit street than was Granba Street, packed with tattoo parlors, arcades, and seedy-looking gymnasiums...
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:24, Tue 30 June 2020.

Buzz keeps an eye out for Nadia's and the other eye on the tattoo parlors.  Maybe their work could be a clue to cult associations or other ne'er-do-wells.

Flash was more interested in the dodgy gym's that littered the grotto.
But soon enough they spied Nadia's, and by that time, Flash was starvulating.

Once inside, and (at least) a (very large) order placed, he turned to Corey.
"Well, Yarrislav proved pretty damned unhelpful, eh.
The only lead we have here is" cue very unrealistic impression of Yarrislav, "The agent who was reporting to me about the Stygian Adepts is very deeply undercover, and I... would rather not tell you their identity.
HOW mossbertingly unhelpful is that?!?

Other than that, all we know is that the Stygian's were apparently recruiting from the union down there"
It was almost like the two were in some kind of story or roleplaying game, and the author wanted them to join the union and try to get recruited.
"I can't see any option but join the union, and try to get recruited.

Or, maybe, just start grabbing random union members, and hoping that hitting them reveals something interesting".
Flash was, as Corey could tell, a little peeved, and suspicious, of their recent interaction with Yarrislav.

"Then maybe we should keep our voices down and deal with the pickpocket killer?"  Buzz was downing iced chai like it was going out of style.  "Let's assume that his gut sense is right, that it's connected somehow.  We track that down, figure it out.  Worse case?  We've wasted a bit of time and found a murderer.  And if that's true, then the people keeping an eye on us think we've got nothing to do with maintenance."

Inside, Nadia's decor is cheap and old.

It's certainly not the cleanest restaurant either of the two agents has ever been in.

The waitress seems bored and uninterested in them and their order, though she takes it.

When the food arrives, however, the plating is pretty decent, and the smell is wonderful.

It turns out to be some of the best and tastiest food either of them has ever eaten, especially the curry. It is, easily, everything that Yarrislav suggested it would be.

"Let's hope he knows the rest of his job this well."  She slurps up more of her dinner.  Her uniform will definitely need a wash after this.  One it won't likely get on any kind of timely basis.  "So.  Pickpockets.  Or you want to focus on something else?"

Flash considered a moment, then shrugged.
“Sure, pickpocket murderer.   Any ideas how?”

"Try and hire some pickpockets?  Maybe start working with pickpockets to get information?  I'm less concerned about petty theft than I am with murder.  The indigenous population doesn't even have pockets!  If we can establish some kind of deeper link between the victims, that would be a start."

Flash nodded, "I can't say I've ever tried, or studied the art of, pickpocketing", he shared, obviously thinking on the idea of 'infiltrating' the occupation, and making himself a target.
"Why would we hire such folk?" he asked, unsure where that would begin.

"Why not just try talking to them, pay them for their information?
Then, a thought came to him, "Why don't we put a tracker in something worth pickpocketing ... then start either working another angle, or another case, until it goes walkabout?
Perhaps there is some kind of PickPocket guild, or organisation, that we can follow it to.  Either we might sneak in there, and speak directly to the bosses ... or just jump the lone, hapless picker-pocket later, when they are less likely to be on guard?"

Buzz looks around to make sure they aren't being listened to.  "A tracking chip inserted into a data cartridge, perhaps?  If we can get the best encryption Danger Patrol has to offer and put it on a recipe book, that should give us enough time."  She finishes the last of her curry and flags the tired waitress to order dessert.  "Running down another lead, I'm not so sure of.  Depends on how fast the chip travels, I think."

The bored waitress takes the dessert order(s?) and leaves. She would appear to not care what her two customers have been quietly talking about, nor whether they live or die, nor whether she lives nor dies, nor whether the universe continues to exist for the next 20 minutes.

The dessert(s?) she brings back are excellent, though. Subtle flavors that complement the meal(s).

"I see no reason we cannot start making contact with the Union and its members, until the theft leads us down that frustria hole".
And travelling the city locating union members would likely make them available to the pickpocket community along the way.

"Deal.  Let's head back to headquarters, get the materials we need, and start snooping."

Flash nodded.  He quickly wolfed down the last of his dessert, and followed Corey out; and back to headquarters.

Buzz left a standard tip.  The service was subpar, but the food more than made up for it.  "My compliments to the chef," she said as she left.

"Shur, shur," says the waitress.

Back at Danger Patrol Headquarters, Yarrislav, involved in stamping papers with various Venusian-rubber stamps, raises an eyebrow at the agents' return. For him, this is a sign of eagerness.

"Boss!  We need a tracking fob we can integrate into data block or something.  We want it to get pickpocketed and then we'll track that down.  Put useful info on the block, but nothing secret.  But encode it, absolutely.  Recipes, maybe?"  Buzz is just machine-gunning words at this point.  "Nadia's was excellent by the way.  And then we need some details on the maintenance union.  We're gonna snoop around there while we're waiting for the pickpocket payoff."

"Makes sense to me..." says Yarrislav. He pushes a button on his desk and gives orders, and in five minutes a gold-plated data stick is brought to Yarrislav's office. He hands it over to Buzz.



Yarrislav nods, a nod of deeply-shared understanding. You three are in a special fellowship now (as far as Yarrislav is concerned).



"Er.... What sort of details...?"

"Who's in charge?  Where do they congregate?  Who should we not interrogate too harshly, given a strong impulse to do so?  That kind of thing." says Buzz as she connects the data stick to her wrist communicator to lock in the signal.

Flash loved watching Buzz take command.
She had a certain style to her, an enthusiasm, that he admired.

"The current head of the union is Francis Marmorstein. A very stubborn individual... which makes it hard for us to deal with him, and which also makes it hard for the Stygian Adepts to deal with him, so it somewhat balances out.

The most important name I can give you amongst the Stygian Adepts here is Knell Sedwick, an older fellow. Probably not the head man, but that's the highest-ranking Adept here I've got a name for.

They congregate down in the lower levels, at a worker's mess hall, Joe's Eatery #14.

I'd be careful about interrogating anyone beyond 'moderate' --the union workers because Marmorstein is so touchy, and the Stygian Adepts because they're unpredictable when pushed, and I feel that that makes them dangerous."

Flash wasn't impressed.   But he was becoming suspicious.
Basically, the Head of Danger Patrol on Neptune didn't want to provide them with Patrol sensitive materials ... either because he didn't trust them, or he was hiding something.  And he didn't want them investigating too hard the case at hand, for apparent fear of upsetting 'someone'.

But he kept his mouth shut, and let Buzz do the bizz.
When the tracking device was set, he planned on heading out into the mean streets of this underwater metropolis and getting something achieved.

"My suggestion," he said to Corey, "is that you take the bait.
As a human, you blend in here a lot better than I.  And possibly I have the better chance of using the tracking device to follow the bug".  He was referring to his innate athletic abilities ... if the thief were to take a running escape once the deed was done.

And, of course, they were both going to have to be 'undercover' in civ-wear.