Session 2, Part 2: Who's Selling?

Although it’s later than some of the group prefer, they meet up at a neighborhood bar in Auburn called Caseys.  The place is low key enough they don’t attract much attention there, at least the kind they don’t want to attract. Being close to Clone Zone Mall, it’s a popular hangout for some of the malls employees and hangers on after hours, which means you can often find some talented hackers talking shop and willing to make deals for hardware and coding work.

Everyone had touched base with their contacts and as expected it was hit and miss, that was until Lennie’s found out about Nabo and his possible connection to the disk.

That said, most of the party had heard of Nabo. Most of Seattle had heard of Nabo, unless they were living under a rock. The whole Orxploitation movement had settled down somewhat in the last five or six years from its former white-hot glory, but that didn’t mean it was going away. Every few moths the music-sim companies find somebody new to promote, propel up to the pop charts, and exploit until they can find a new cash cow. These days, Nabo’s their golden boy. Anybody who pays attention to popular music knows his story: he’s an ork ganger kid from the Seattle Barrens who loves music more than he loves firefights and selling BTL’s. He makes a name for himself performing in small local clubs, gets noticed by somebody big time, and the next thing he knows he’s rocketing up the charts.

After a little more legwork the group finds out he’s holding a concert. It’s in a warehouse. Not a club artfully disguised to look like a warehouse. Not a former warehouse that’s been converted into a club. It’s a warehouse.

Smack dab in the middle of a crumbling industrial district near the docks, the place is obviously not prepared for the numbers of people who’ll be showing up for the gig. Cars and motorcycles choke the streets, everywhere they look people are double and triple parked, and it looks likethat line of porta-potties off to the side isn’t going to be adequate to handle the crowd. Already quite a few people are milling around outside, and the booming sounds of music coming from inside the badly soundproofed walls can be heard from a distance.

Whoever’s sponsoring Nabo must have dropped a lot of cred for bribes to make this happen, since not even a single Lone Star cruiser can be seen prowling around, nor is there any angry fire marshals. While it’s a run dun part of town, even a place like this takes some big money to get something this big ignored.