Arbeiten cartographer and GIS tech, former White Hat for Nu Corp, Grid-level team leader (maybe a 5.5 to 6 out of ten in terms of his authority?)

Age: HEO 24

Education: MS Computer Engineering, MS Geographic Sciences, BSE Computer Engineering, from Toddbrook U, was not in any fraternities

Height: Average for race

Weight: Light for race

PRO: 10
--+7 vs Video Games

STR: 9

ATH: 9

AWA: 17 (Init) (Prowess equivalent when using a computer for combat, eg: programming or controlling a turret gun, etc)
--Spatial awareness (including while blind, disoriented, or otherwise confused)
--Memory -2

WIL: 15
--Intimidate -6

ROG: 10

Skills:
Cartography: 16
Surveying: 16
Database management: 15
Programming: 16
Research: 15
Legal Research: 13
News/internet research: 14
Undernet research: 13
Computer hardware: 12
Historical preservation (ie: really old art, maps, books, etc): 12
Historical knowledge: 12
Pop culture knowledge: 11
Bike riding: 10

Knowledge of Nu Corp protocols: 13
Connections in computer science world: 13
Connections in Undernet: 9
Connections at Nu Corp: lost
Connections in GIS, surveying, and real estate: 14

Traveling with:
--Clothes
--toiletries
--Portable computer
--backup battery
--signal booster
--hand held or wristwatch smart device (eg: an iPhone, a Tricorder, whatever)
--Surveying equipment
--His diplomas
--The last of his favorite foods from Shem
--his blanket
--a plush morag in sunglasses and beach shorts given to him by an ex girlfriend
--a small collection of pop-culture figurines
--an original pre-censor poster of "Belle Pointe III: Return of the Manticore" autographed by the star of the movie

"Hey Beetle."

Beetle kept typing, watching the readouts on the screen. "Here."

Rukar rubbed his head roughly as he went by. "Fi-portal net down for maintenance in Bronsfargo?"

"Not even close. She's not due for maintenance for another month. Is she down?"

Rukar sat down at his terminal and logged in. "There's interferance on the lines. Dispatch has got three people out there right now."

"Three--" Beetle glanced at his roster. He sighed and pressed a button. "Lu goddammit I told you to tell me when you send teams onto my grids. Who the hell have you got out there."

Crackle. "I don't have anybody out there, Beetle. Harsh my mellow again and I'll key your pot."

Rukar turned around lazily in his seat. "Then where are Sykes, Padel and Dragoneye right now."

Crackle. "They're not even in to work today, jacknut."

Beetle called up three portals. He shrugged. "Bullshit, Lu. I'm looking at tracksat 3, MODS, and Highline right now. They're at the Fi-server farm on 5th and Chancellor. Fi-portal net is my grid, I'm responsible for it, so I'll ask again, what the fuck, Lu."
Crackle. "Alright! Sydney H. Broncour, would you keep your pot on?"

Beetle took a swig of day old energy drink. "Ruk, would you run diagnostics?"

"Sure thing, Beet." He pulled his spectacle helmet on and began typing.

Beetle called up the security reports. Nothing unusual for the area. He scanned the logs of the other hubs.

Reports of static going back at least a week popped up. "What the--these were assigned to Eisengaard's team--" He pressed the button by his desk. "Ramirez, get your ass up to to Tower One and find out why my shit's being rerouted around me!"

Time to get real. Beetle pulled up maps, specs, schematics, and logged into MetaNav. It took him a second or two to get to the 5th and Chancellor hub.

He looked at his com.

He blinked.

He pressed the button again. "Ramirez! Did you copy!"

He waited.

Rukar turned around in his chair.

Beetle pressed again. "Ramirez?"

He looked at Rukar.

Rukar's Oerdoeg face took on a grim cast. He pressed his own com button. "Security, this is White-Hat team Belcorn. We need a check, come on."

Crackle. "Copy, Belcorn, we are en route."

Crackle. "Beet, this is Lu. Something's up. I can see them bright as day but they're not answering the com."

"Oh they aren't." Beetle typed furiously. "That's cute. Stand by, Lu." He hit the Enter key with furious finality, and then activated his com. "Sykes, I just locked your scaly ass into the hub building along with Padel and Dragoneye and whatever other wank-tastic dick-lizards you brought with you. Answer me or I'll start raising the temperature."

Crackle. "Beetle this is not what you think. Open the doors."
"Fuck you, Sykes, you're muscling in on Fi-Portal! You fucking talk to me--"
"Goddammit, Beetle this is not a fucking game! Open the doors!"

Beetle stood up. "Or what!"

Sykes swallowed audibly on the other end. "Or a lot of people are going to die."

"Nice try, flipnutz, do I sound like I was born yesterday?" He hit the com. "Security, this is team Belcorn again. Could you send someone out to 5th and Chancellor? I think we've had a break in, and I've got the thieves covered, come on back."

Crackle. "Copy, Belcorn. Everything looks go in your nest, just to set your minds at ease, come on."

"Thanks, Captain. Where's Ramirez, is he around? Come on."

"Negative that, Belcorn, you have no personnel in the nest, come on."
"Shit." He looked to Rukar.

"Already on it, Beet." He typed with oddly nimble fingers for an Oerdoeg. "...Yeah..." He pressed his com button. "Captain, I know Ramirez was in the nest, but the tracksats can't find his signal. Something's up. come on back?"

"Roger, Belcorn. We're on it. Over and out."
Beetle turned in his seat. "The fuck is going on."

"Hate to say it, Beet, but you may need to holster your 'tude. Something's up to here--" He held his hand a good five feet off the ground, "--and I think we need to go code yellow."

Beetle nodded. "Get the team."

Rukar grinned a big toothy grin. He hit the Big Red Button. "North, Frankie, Juli, drop your cocks, grab your socks, and get on the clocks! It's business time!"

Beetle took a deep breath to center himself, and activated the yellow log.

---

The Image Man paced by his window, looking out over the lights of a Nu night. "And when did you know they had all been murdered?"

Beetle swallowed. "The next day. I came into the nest and I was the only one still alive. They even got Rukar. I had a new team waiting and everything, like nothing was different. Like they thought I wouldn't notice."

The Image Man did not answer.

"Broncour, if I'd known they were gonna kill them, I'd have never called it in. Gods forgive me..."

"And then they would have killed you too." He paced over to a crystal decanter of ice water.

"They didn't spare me because I turned in the traitors, they spared me because I let them think I had goods on 'em."

The Image Man handed him a glass. "And you don't."

Beetle shook his head. "Not a bit." He drank it in one go.

"You do now. You're about to become a martyr."

Beetle's hand shook. "Doesn't...that...require me to..."

The Image Man seesawed his hand back and forth. "Depending on your definition. It probably won't surprise you to hear me say I can spin this, but you have to do exactly what I say, when I say. The basics are this: From now on, you are a courageous, underdog whistle-blower, going up against the unstoppable corporate behemoth of faceless soul-less board-members."

Beetle shrugged desperately. "With what? I don't even know what Sykes found!"

The Image Man laughed. "Do I look like it matters? I spun my own death once. A little faith would not be unwarranted." He knelt in front of Beetle's chair, looking him in the eye. "And from now on, Sykes is your brother in arms, just like Rukar, Ramirez, and Lu. You speak of him in glowing, saintly terms only. Understood?"

Beetle nodded.

"A little louder."

Beetle swallowed. "Yes sir."

The Image Man stood up. "I'm going to ask a favor of one of my cohorts. You are going to glow like a shining pillar of quiet strength and righteous peace of mind for the interviews tomorrow."

"What interview to--"

the Image Man flipped open his phone. "Yes. May I speak to Jawbreaker please? Tell him it's the Man in the Mirror. He'll know who I am."

Beetle went wide eyed. Surely not..."Wait, Jawbreaker Loufburrow? The editor of--"

The Image Man grinned. "How are you, friend...." He laughed, pacing. "Oh, just stirring up trouble. I'm sure you can imagine..."

Beetle watched him pace, his calm eyes focussed but his grin tense and businesslike.

"...Oh really! Well at least they finally go their taste out of their ass..." He laughed again. "No no, this is much worse than that. I have an interview for you. Tomorrow. A brave, plucky underdog whistleblower."

Beetle rubbed his face with both hands. "Oh my gods..."

The Image Man went on. "Well, see, that's the beauty of it, my friend. You /won't/ be going against Nu. They are an upstanding, law abiding corporation, remember? They /want/ to know if some element in their ranks is stepping out of line, and these murders are bad business." His faced hardened. "I intend to remind them of that, and so will you."

Beetle stood up and poured his own next glass of water with a shaking hand.

The Image Man laughed again. "Don't worry. I'll line them up. You just keep the spotlight on our brave young hero. Let me do the rest."

Beetle sat back down again.

"You too, friend. Say hi to Liselle for me." He hung up.

Beetle shook his head. "Jawbreaker Loufburrow. Oh my god."

"Broker." The Image Man turned on his heels and sat down, almost lazily. "Which brings me to my price."

Beetle nodded.

"Your maps of Bronsfargo Addition."

Beetle shook his head. "They--I don't have access anymore, they changed my codes."

"But not their protocols. You were a White-Hat tech. Break in."

Beetle shook his head. "If they catch me--"

"What?" The Image Man fixed him with his calm eyes. "They'll kill you? They were going to anyway. That's why you're here." He stood up. "All your Bronsfargo Addition maps. The plats, the building plans, the surveys, the contours, the aerials, the schematics, and all your data overlays. Political districts. Water. Sewer. Utilty Easements. Rights of way. Fire hydrants, schools, taxable parcels, demographics, census, water towers, emergency response overlays, marketing, telecom, taxi routes, I even want Vector Control's pest data for the--Are you shaking your head at me?"

Beetle's breath hitched. "I wasn't responsible for all that!"

The Image Man loomed over him and got down into his face. "Do you feel that?"

"What."

"That lump in the pit of your stomach." The Image Man reached down, his fingers curled like talons, and pressed the tips uncomfortably hard to Beetle's stomach.

Beetle winced.

"That's called fear. And you can't escape it. Fear is something you have to face or you will never be a free man no matter how far you run. Not to Ruiz, not to Avagen, not to the Discordian Star, not to the Foundation itself. Fear does not go away until you--" He gave Beetle's gut a painful jostle. "--face it!"

Beetle screamed.

The Image Man stood up and paced away. "Do this for me, and I can help you run from danger."

Beetle forced himself to take three deep breaths. "H...How."

The Image Man smiled. "After your interviews, I can get you to Ruiz."

Ruiz.

Beetle swallowed.

He nodded.

"I'll do it."

The Image Man laughed, opening his arms. "My boy. Welcome to heroism."

Beetle sighed. "I don't feel like a hero."

"Well you shouldn't, because you're not." He poured another glass. "But that's of no interest to me." He offered Beetle the glass.

The Shemmish Nu call letters for this campaign:
A - Archon
B - Belcorn
C - Cadonia
D - Dancer
E - Echo
F - Fuligin
G - Gifted
H - Halfling
I - Instar
J - Jahur
K - Khurshid
L - Laurel
M - Merukis
N - Nu Corp
P - Palhur
Q - Quathry
R - Riquita
S - Starfall
T - Tagium
U - Utopia
V - Velour
W - Warden
X - X'mindir
Y - Yeti
Z - Zul'Bradr