"Well, as you know, Amazonia is not necessarily a fan of megacorporations or their affiliates.  I believe the translation of their response is something along the lines of 'our land will not tolerate continued bio-exploitation of you or any of your ilk'.  It's hard for scientific knowledge to thrive in the face of such non-forward-thinking policies.

As for its use, we have a client who has a strong interest in the properties of the fruit, but I'm afraid I can't share more.  The hallocinogenic properties are not of primary interest and have not been confirmed.  In any event, we will require all specimens collected for research purposes.  There is to be NO sampling.

And yes, the large crate in the back is our boat.  It's one of the newest models and should be more than adequate for our needs."

“Neat. Who’s your navigator? Will you be hiring locals?” He asks, not exactly intent on piloting one of those things if he didn’t have to. He didn’t want to add getting everyone lost in the rainforest to his resume.

Projecting feels difficult.  It takes a great deal of effort to push your astral form out of your body and, once out, you feel weakened and somewhat drained.  The astral plane is dull and lifeless.  There are sparks from your companions and a concerning glow from the latrine, but other than that, the area is lifeless.  The faintness of the manasphere makes it feel as though you're looking around  a dark cavern with only a small match trying to illuminate the area.

You can roll a search, but add a +4 penalty to the base 4 TN.  And you'll need to resist 6M stun.  On the plus side, you didn't try this on a sub-orbital :)

"We have arranged for a local guide.  He'll meet us when we arrive."

Let me know if I messed up any of this.

Caduceus is searching on the Astral, so I rolled Aura Reading (Auras) for his search. I made a roll for Symbolism as a potential companion skill too, since science equipment might show up oddly in the symbolic astral realm. For the stun resistance I used Willpower, since it substitutes for Body in astral space.

Searching with Aura Reading (Auras)
10:26, Today: Caduceus rolled 1 success using 5d6 with the Shadowrun system with a target of 8 with rolls of 1,4,(6+5)11,2,4.  Aura Reading (Auras) - scanning science gear.

Potential companion skill, Symbolism
10:28, Today: Caduceus rolled 1 success using 5d6 with the Shadowrun system with a target of 8 with rolls of 3,(6+3)9,4,3,1.  Symbolism - potential companion skill.

Resist 6M Stun
10:34, Today: Caduceus rolled 1 success using 6d6 with the Shadowrun system with a target of 6 with rolls of (6+1)7,4,3,4,5,1.  Resist Stun with willpower.

Yeah, Caduceus is going to be taking it easy for the rest of the flight and try to wear of some of that stun damage... Base time for recovery is 6 hours. Divide that by successes from a recovery test. Willpower vs 5 (2 base + 3 stun).

Recover from stun
10:40, Today: Caduceus rolled 1 success using 6d6 with the Shadowrun system with a target of 5 with rolls of 4,4,2,1,3,(6+5)11.  Recover from stun.

It will take him a full 6 hours to recover from his search attempt. :-( Such is the life of a Shadowrunner. How much longer is the remaining flight time?

Rolls looked good.  You need 2 successes on the companion skill to count as a success, so that's 1 success

In the darkness, Caduceus isn't able to make out any signs of life and the equipment is mostly technical stuff that doesn't register well on the astral at the best of times.  He's able to figure out what's the boat and can see at least one thing that looks like some sort of a gun, other than that, some camping supplies and a bunch of stuff he can't recognize or understand, at least not from this plane.  He returns to his body with a nasty headache, though it's feeling a bit better before the drone of the jet engines change for landing.

Flight time is about 9 hours.  You'd have started exploring after about 1.5, so you've got another 1.5 hours before landing if you want to try to knock off another box.

EDIT: fixed formatting
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:08, Fri 22 Mar 2019.

Caduceus returned to his body feeling absolutely drained. He reminded himself to avoid astrally projecting at this altitude in the future, if at all possible. Even with all of the effort he had expended, he had not come up with much. The gun he had (probably) spotted was interesting, but not all that surprising. But he supposed his lack of results was notable in and of itself. At least now he knew they weren't smuggling in magical equipment or invasive species. Probably. His search had not been a very easy one to execute.

The mentally-battered shaman spent most of the rest of the rest of the flight dozing, reading through the pamphlet, and chatting with anyone who sat near him. Nothing too strenuous. He hoped to be back in tip top shape by the time they landed. Both physically and magically.

Duck spends the majority of the flight looking over the team’s itenerary, familiarizing himself with the maps and any other available relevant data, just in case the one person the scientists hired as a guide catches a stray bullet. He’d seen plenty of old movies about jungle cannibals and wasn’t about to become a subject of some found footage documentary. “Never again...” he mutters to himself, vying to keep away from any mission that put him in such a remote locale that he couldn’t just walk to the store and pick up a fresh pack of smokes. Good thing he’d picked up a whole carton for the trip. Even tossed it into a resealable plastic bag to make sure they didn’t get wet. He lit up another, idly glancing out of the window as he lit it, then resumed his studies.

Kate spends the first part of the flight looking through the window and trying to hide her excitement on being on her first "real" run through the shadows... even though it's watching people harvest plants. Not what she expected.

Any docs she's given, she tries to read and memorize to be as helpful as she can.

The runners occupied themselves as best they could for the long remainder of the flight.  Caduceus sleeping.  White Duck chain0smoking to the point where the interior of the plane was partly obscured by the haze.  Kate by studying the provided material and Hairy by absent-mindedly removing screws from things and then putting them back in the same place.  Mostly.  He was pretty sure...

Koby seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time in the plane's washroom, and the odd time he came out of it, he looked rather green.

Dr. Fukuhara and Dr. Al-Mansour were also focused on preparations.  The former by reading through paper documents, the other apparently scanning chips.  Dr. Sanders enjoyed the odd cigar and peered interestedly out the windows - at least when there was anything interesting to see.  He spent the rest of the time reading or chatting up anyone willing to listen.

As the Sky truck began its lumbering descent toward Iquitos, you wondered how the city ever got built. There were no roads to speak of leading to the place - just the airport and the huge, shining curve of the Amazon River. Apart from that, everything was jungle: a lumpy green carpet stretching off in every direction. That's what you're going to be traveling through for the next week.  Looks like fun.

The plane touched down on a runway just barely long enough. You steppped outside just as the local ground crew rolled the stairs up to the Sky truck's door. The heat hit you like a brick wall, and the humidity made it feel like you were swimming instead of walking. Oh yeah, this was gonna be a fun little hike.

Waiting at the bottom of the stairs was a gaunt, fiftyish, unbelievably tanned human wearing worn military fatigues, dark sunglasses and a toothy grin. "Oi, chummero5," he says. "I've taken care of customs for now, but the sooner we get unpacked and on our way, the less attention we attract, hmm? Have the pilot taxi this monster over to Hangar 2 and let's see what you've got."

Koby made it to the bottom of the stairs before leaning over to the side and heaving up what appeared, by this point, to be just bile.

"Bumpy ride?"

“Yeah, don’t mind him, he seems to do that a lot.” Says Duck as he emerges from the jet after Koby, giving him a friendly pat on the back and checking to see if his new teammate/ritual brother-type figure is OK.

“Maybe you know where we could score some weed? That might help.”

Caduceus stretched his muscles as he exited the plane and promptly scanned the area with his astral sight. He mostly wanted to know if any spirits were around paying attention to their group, but he was also eager to see what brand new astral signatures the surrounding area might possess. It had been quite some time since he had strayed too far from Seattle, much less this part of the world. He had forgotten just how humid Amazonia could get.

He also took a few moments to breathe in the fresh, non-smoke-filled air and called a local wind spirit to his side, but did not give it any commands just yet.

---

Caduceus is just getting a general sense of what the astral is like in the area. He is also conjuring a force 3 Wind Spirit, just in case he needs it.

21:38, Today: Caduceus rolled 3 successes using 5d6 with the Shadowrun system with a target of 3 with rolls of (6+6+4)16,3,1,4,1.  Conjure Force 3 Wind Spirit.
Three services.

21:39, Today: Caduceus rolled 7 successes using 7d6 with the Shadowrun system with a target of 3 with rolls of 3,4,4,5,(6+5)11,(6+4)10,4.  Drain test.
No Drain.

"I might know someone.  For now, stick him in the shade and get your pilot to move the plane.  I want you guys unloaded and away from here before shift change."

Dr. Fukuhara injected himself, "Actually, they're my team.  I'm the expedition lead.  But yes, we'll move the plane.  You are Mr. Bichoo, I take it?"

The tan gentlemen eyed the professor up and down, then shrugged and nodded.  "Okay, vamos! Let's get moving."

Caduceus found the astral environment quite invigorating.  While the airport was still a commercial area, the astral was much cleaner and more vibrant than Seattle.  The wind spirit appeared more energetic and swirled happily, awaiting commands.  In the distance, Caduceus could see the canopy of the jungle and a faint swirl of energy from the trees, teaming with life.

The plane roared back to life and the caro-hauler taxied to a nearby hanger.  Once it was inside and the engines were quieted again, the rigger lowered the rear door.  Bichoo hurried up the ramp and poked into a couple of the crates.  As soon has he pulled back the tarp on the largest one, he laughed.

"This boat stay here.  We'll take mine."

”What the drek? This place is as rancid as a bouncers armpit. Is it like this every day or you all just turn up the heat for us?”

Hairy will stay with the plane and grab his bags out as soon as he can. But it doesn’t take five minutes for rivers of sweat to be running down his face and soaking into his gear.

”How far we traveling in this?”

Duck also breaks a sweat fairly quickly, but still smells of juniper and cranberries somehow. His skin starts to darken the moment he gets off of the plane, slowly and in large blotches, like what happens when you press your thumb against the surface of a mood ring. By the time he takes the last step from the stairway exiting the plane, the tones match that of a someone native to the area. He pulls his hair up, having kept it black throughout the trip, and tosses on an old, weather-worn CAS New Orleans Saints baseball cap. Much to Hairy’s chagrin, it turns out his ears are round. He flips on his aviators and nods to the guide.

“I’m Duck. Pleased to meet you.” He extends a hand to shake, showing a bit of dazzlingly white teeth in a brief smile. For someone who smokes so heavily, it’s only a moderately curious thing about him. He glances to Hairy for a moment and makes a mental note that he gets less ‘elf-boy’ remarks with darker skin tones, idly wondering if he should keep the tan on more often. When the orc’s mouth was closed, he wasn’t such bad company.

“What kinda boat you got, Bichoo?”

Kate notices the heat but it's no worse than Summer back home and that's not a problem for her.

I'm Kate, what kind of boat are we travelling on? I'm not used to travelling on water so I hope it doesn't rock too much"

She looks at everyone else, hoping to match their cool

Dr. Sanders and Dr. Fukuhara overcome their initial outrage and interject over top of the runners.  "This is our expedition and our equipment.  We invested significantly in acquiring and shipping this vessel.  I assure you, it's top of the line and can meet whatever requirements you might have."  "It's pre-fitted with mounts for my equipment.  It'd take at least a day to retrofit another vessel."

Bicho leaned back against the crate, his arms crossed, "You think you can get a new, expensive boat like this across the border? You might as well paint 'ILLEGAL fOREIGN RESEARCH' on the side in big orange letters. If you want to get a boat into Amazonia, you need one that looks like it belongs here. One that the border guards know. That means we take mine."

He briefly responded to White Duck, "Not so big and fancy as 'dis one, but it'll do.", then turned his attention to the crates.  He peered into each one before pointing at Hairy, then Kate, then Dr. Al-Mansour to lug them out of the cargo hold.  Some of them he shook his head at and shoved them back further in the hold.  "This can stay here."

Dr. Fukuhara's looked like he was putting considerable effort into maintaining his normally calm demeanor.  "How are we supposed to complete a scientific expedition if we don't actually bring the scientific equipment"

Bichoo paused and stroked his chin for a minute.  "Well , my boat is not so big, you know... I tell you what. We can leave behind these electronics or half the food. What do you think?"

Before the professor could respond, Bichoo cracked open the crate with Hairy's LMG and lifted it out.  The sight of the weapon was enough to distract him from whatever retort he'd been about to give.  "Nice pea-shooter."  He puts the lid back down, then shoves the crate back with the electonics.  Something like that?  Border patrol'll hear it a mile away.  Worse, they'll assume your a rebel, which means they won't bother trying to take you - or anyone with you - for questioning.  Pistols, rifles, knives.  Maybe a small SMG.  Anything bigger than that, anything that goes boom, and you're just begging for trouble.  Besides, We 're just trying to explore the rainforest, not blow it up."

He continues to dig and holds up Kate's lined coat.  "Ya gonna wander through the jungle with this?  You'll cook!  Besides, What good'll it do you?  None, against a snakebite, or a basilisk's eyes, or a caiman - they don't eat you until after they've drowned you. Armor might help against the border patrols, but if you get into a fight with them, you've already lost."

He also tosses a couple of satellite phones from one of the professors' bags.  "Govenment monitors the airwaves.  We'd have a chopper on us inside of 10 minutes the second you turned this on.  Short-range is ok, but nothing powerful."

Kate looks crestfallen as she realizes how far out of her element she is.

Duck scratches the back of his head. Feeling vindicated about packing light, the Louisiana native raises a skeptical eyebrow when the guide insists on the equipment being kept back.

"Say, bruh, you're already getting paid. You might have these guys in a bit of a bad fix since you're taking carte blanche to rule out half our gear, but that ain't how contracts work. You were ready to try and fleece us out of half our gear before the plane touched down on the ground, don't think that's not immediately apparent. Tell you what though. You want a little lagniappe, that's fine cher, you figure out a way to let us keep the research equipment, you can keep the boat. My clients need that stuff, so call up another friend with a boat and get him to tote it too, pay the man with what you make selling off the boat. You and I both know yours ain't the only trawler the patrols recognize, and a shiny new vessel fresh outta the crate is gonna fetch you more than enough to cover the extra costs and the inconvenience." He takes out a pack of cigarettes, flips one into his mouth from the distance of his pocket and lights it, taking a small puff, blowing the smoke to the side as he eyes the guide with a soft sigh. His voice is calm and even, like that of someone well-accustomed to being told he can't have what he wanted and getting it anyway.

"Look, we both gettin' paid. I recognize somebody trying to rip off tourists, and I ain't having' it. Ya'll got caiman here? We got gators where I'm from. Y'all got anacondas? We got water moccasins and more fuckin' mosquitoes than all the birds in your jungle could eat. I didn't fly all fucking day and agree to go into the middle of a goddamned jungle just so some asshole can try to rip us off for half our shit right when we got off the plane." He takes the cigarette, spins out a fresh layer of ashes, then holds his hand up, the smoke trailing behind it, its brown-stained filter peeking out between his index and middle fingers.

"So ditch the trying to rip off the stupid gringos routine and do your fucking job, or we find someone else with an old piece of shit boat who could use a new one. You and I both know a new vessel is a solid deal, so you'll figure out a way to make it work, or we'll get back on that plane with *all* of our shit and the next team this corp hires to come down here will probably be on the hunt for some jungle tour guide who thought he could get away with fucking with some touristas." he takes another drag.

Anyone that’s worked with Duck in the past probably notices the shift in his vernacular to that of a born and bred Cajun southerner, and the look in his eyes to be that of someone who very well might throttle someone to the ground and slap the taste from their mouths, but this guide didn’t know Duck at all. He probably had no clue that someone who knew the water well enough to establish that any vessel large enough to hold both his team and a team of researchers had to have enough cargo space to fit the equipment too. He was not too pleased the guide these researchers hired was treating the cargo load like his own personal shopping mall, and he remembered to ask this corp to let he and his team handle logistics if he decided to work with them in the future, as the current situation very well wouldn’t be happening.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:56, Fri 05 Apr 2019.

Bichoo leaned against the crate and eyed Duck for a minute.  "First, I'm not fleecing anyone.  I got no use for this electronic dreck.  I'm leaving it here on your plane.  If you like, you can think of it as saving you the loss that'll happen when it sinks in the boat.

You booked one boat and one guide.  Ya want to book two, it's your time and your nuyen - and your hoop if the extra attention a pair of boats brings results in your samples being confiscated.  My job is getting you to where you're going.  Your boat ain't gonna do it.  My boat ain't gonna do it if you load it down with all this dreck.  Ya wanna call someone else, go for it.  I'll wait."

With that, he pulled himself up onto one of the crates and pulled out a cigarette.

Dr. Fukuhara looked back and forth between Bichoo and the no-longer albino, clearly unsure what to do and somewhat nonplussed at his role of expedition lead being so easily replaced.  "You don't have a partner with another boat we could also use?"

<green>"Nope."<green>  The guide took a drag, one leg swinging easily off the side of the crate.

At the bottom of the ramp there was a 'clunk' as Koby tilted over from his sitting position and his head hit the floor of the hanger.

EDIT: fixed formatting
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:27, Tue 09 Apr 2019.

Duck has a flash of concern on his face, looking to Cadeuces and nodding towards Koby, letting the healer do his work while he continues his. He looks to Dr. Fukuhara, then to Bichoo.

"One moment please, obviously I need to confer with our mutual employer." he says, taking Dr. Fukuhara aside.

"Not certain as to who hired this guide, but I'm aware your team is clearly going to have some issues if the objective is research and you can't bring along the equipment to *do* the research. It's ultimately your call as to whether or not you go forward with you task with this variable. I'm no scientist, but I'm pretty damned good at risk assessment, and I'd assess that our safest option would be to get back on that plane, hire a more competent professional as your guide and vet him thoroughly next time around, and we leave now with all of our mission assets in tact. You opt to continue from this point on, and you're downright guaranteeing we all end up seeing the very worst effects of Murphy's law, which as you should clearly see is already a factor here." he sighs, pinching off the ashes of his smoke and repocketing it.

"My team was hired to keep you and your team safe. Unless you're interested in being left in the middle of the jungle without even having the equipment required for you to do your jobs, in the interest of your own safety and that of my people, it's my professional reccommendation here that you cut your losses and abort this mission here and now, before it gets some or all of us killed."

When Koby fell, Caduceus rushed to his side to see if there was anything he could do to alleviate his discomfort. White Duck seemed to have the logistics under control for the moment. Caduceus noticed Koby was looking pretty rough after the flight, but he wasn't sure Snake's healing magic could do much for the runner in his current state. At least not with the spells Caduceus knew.

"It might be a good option to leave Koby here to watch over the stuff, if needed," he mentioned to the group. "If it comes down to leaving some equipment behind, that is. He's not looking so great anyway. And we did bring one extra crew member than originally planned..."

Bichoo nodded and continued to puff away as Professor Fukuhara followed stiffly down the ramp.  Dr. Sanders follows along.  Al-Mansour remained on the plane, arms crossed and eyeing Bichoo with distaste.

When he reached the bottom of the ramp, the Japanese man turned to White Duck.  His words were quiet, but cold.  "Your purpose here is to provide protection from external threats.  It is NOT to undertake negotiations on my behalf.  If you see a specific security threat, I will thank you for sharing it.  Otherwise, please do not interfere."

With that he took out his phone and steps away a couple of feet to make a call and began speaking rapid Japanese

If you wish, you can roll to see how much you can pick out.

=========================

Koby was not in good shape.  He was feverish and his eyes had taken on a pinkish tinge.  He was mumbling incoherently.  This didn't look like damage or a toxin, but rather some form of virus or possibly a systemic infection.  Not the sort of thing Snake had ever helped him intervene with before.  At home, it'd definitely be time to head to the local street doc for something a bit stronger than an aspirin and possibly even an IV.

Duck is left with a quizzical expression on his features. He had pointed out an obvious threat to security in the first place, but he was more worried about this Doctor’s terse response to any shakedown attempt. He marked down mentally that the expedition lead, as foolhardy he was in exerting whatever authority he thought he had, was going to pay the karmic price for his hubris, and that Duck and the rest of his team might end up paying some of their share too. After all that, he didn’t see Dr. Fukuhara doing any negotiations of his own. He took his cigarette and moved over to Bitchoo.

“Hell man, now I just gotta ask. Were these researchers saavy enough to pay you for a return trip, or are you to take us there and go on your merry way?”

Hairy looks at his LMG again, mumbling to himself, "not that loud. It's a big jungle anyway. Like to see border patrol try an' take it." He considers it again. Without his LMG, he's left with his sub-machine gun and all his explosives. He puts it back in the box and figures he'll wait to see what the bosses decide. If he sees a crate going with a little empty space, he might see if he can sneak it in, just in case they change their mind later.

"Booking was for airport to airport including customs with up to 10 days plying the river and jungle.  Body return for key personnel where possible."  Bichoo's face doesn't provide much clarity as to whether you or your teammates fall within the 'key personnel', but your past experience suggests the probable answer.

Dr. Fukuhama stomped up the ramp, returning his phone to his belt.  "Fine, we'll do it your way.  We pack as much as the boat can safely hold, but we'll leave the rest behind. 

Bichoo stood up and ground the remains of his cigarette into the deck.  "Good choice.

Figure out what you really need and the rest of you can lug it to my jeep."

He leaned back against the frame and looked at Koby and Caduceus, then turned back to White Duck.  "Dunno what's up with your teammate and don't really care, but if he flakes out like this in the jungle, he's gonna end up as food for a Cayman or something else.  Not trying to be harsh, but when we need to move, we need to move and we're gonna be hauling enough gear that lugging a body isn't going to fly for long.  If you like, I can give you the address for a clinic in town.  Not fancy, but they're clean and your friend'll still have all his organs intact when we get back."

Caduceus, you're free to make a roll, but the objective is to get Koby (mostly) out of harm's way for a bit until his player is able to rejoin the game.  So the roll probably isn't going to have the desired effect - or at least he's not going to be up to travelling for a while.