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The flickering sign from a bar down the street reminds him of his plans for the night."How could i forget." As he starts out of the alley and across the street he feels his heart pick up the pace. This sure was going to be a fun night. He thought to himself. "I just hope ol' frag face doesnt forget." Like I almost did. He finishes the thought in his head as he walks through the door of the bar.

He should have guessed from the crowed outside that this "Bar" was actually more of a club, well it was a club. He should have saw this coming since anyone who knows the shred of personality Threl has knows he despises clubs and would have to trick him into coming here... Once he passed through the door he found himself in a small screening room. Directly in front of him was a pair of huge bouncers and although they didn't have any cyberwear showing you could hear the low hum of it through they're thick dress coats. Now Threl isn't one to back down from a fight but he also doesn't run into a club in the middle of Central City guns blazing either. He passed by the two giants with nothing more than an exchange of mean looks. Once in the actual club he found him self in a enormous room filled with flashing lights, loud music, and tons of dreks dancing the night away. There was a bar against the far wall but it was packed and Threl really didn't want to get into a fight with one of those giant bouncers because some Fraghead bumped into him, which was bound to happen... So he made his way up to the top floor above all the dancing fools. At the top of the stairs he found a quite area which was clearly made for shady deals or conversations that weren't to be overheard, just the kind of place he was looking for. He walked over to one of the booths and took a seat. These booths had three walls making them pretty private and on top of that they had drapes you could pull shut so no one could see in. Threl didn't understand this though since he would much rather see who's taking an interest in his business.

Central City was all lit up, neon and flashing lights. But there were still plenty of shadows, and thats what Aleister was looking for.
After dumping his bike under some garbage between a res-plex and a head shop, he tried to remember where it was they had arranged to meet. "someplace around here..."
After backtracking a block or two he found the place. The crowd outside, the smell of synth-leather and booze-sweat, pulsing bass and flashing lights... "who's fragging idea was this...?" he mumbled to himself.
He doubted this was the kind of place that'd let him in without confiscating half his gear. So he took a walk around the back of the next building over and found the alley leading to the service entrance. The smell of rotting filth was nothing new, and what-a-ya-know, some wageslave in a kitchen smock was out having a smoke.
"hey chummer, got a light?"
The poor b*****d had enough time to look up, but that was about it. The bag Aleister'd been carrying connected with the side of his head and whatever was inside it made a low metallic hum as it bounced off. The guy was knocked out. He slipped the FOB out of the guy's pocket and used it to open the back door. Down the hall he saw a flight of stairs and a door leading to the kitchen, he took the stairs.
Once inside the club proper he made his way to the upper level and found the booth he was looking for.
Giving Threl Karr a look of mock disgust, he puts a boot up on the table and leans over to offer the most cordial greeting one finger can give.
"Been a while drek-head, hows biz?" he says with a grin.

Aleister's grin turns cool and business-like, pausing a moment to consider his long time associate. It had been several weeks since last they'd made contact, their individual objectives neccesitating that they work seperatly.
Aleister had contacted Threl over a dedicated comm line, requesting that they meet. Deep cover s**t was not generally to his liking, prefering open street warfare, but s**t was going down, and they both had their parts to play.
Aleister sets the bag he'd clubbed the busboy with on the table, a dirty black satchel, round and bulging from whatever cargo it carried.
"got something ta show ya, and I think its gonna brighten yer day chummer..." With that he flips the bag over letting something round and black and shiney roll across the table to rest in front of Threl.
A grinning skull, charred black with clumps of flesh and burnt hair sticking to its steel plating.
"Say hello to 'King Chrome Dragon', last heavy hitter those Tong bastards had, and the last name on my list." With a grin he adds "I've already sent for a courier to come pick him up, should arrive in a day, then we can config on how to procede... maybe we'll finnaly get to do some real fragging damage!"

Threl's had his eyes on the strange blood covered bag since Aleister brought it to the table but nothing prepared him for what was about to roll out. King Chrome had run a pretty big gang that ran one of the outer rim cities. "After all this time it's finally done. I guess you've learned something while you've been gone." He reached out and picked the head up and examined it more closely. "So what did you do, burn him to death?" This time Threl turned to see if someone was watching and saw a huge fat man sitting in a table facing there booth.Almost embarrassed by not noticing the fat a** take a seat so close, Threl used his cyber eye to cut through the dark and zoom in on the man closely. He noticed the man had an ear piece most likely relaying to backup just out of arms reach but if this guy had a recorder they had to do something no matter who was jumping in. If word got out that Aleister took out ol' Chrome Dome he'd be done for and since Threl was caught here with him, he'd no doubt be found dead in whatever dumpster Aleister was in tomorrow morning. "Hey, this fat frag-head is listening in on our reunion plus i think he's recording it. He's also got an ear piece and no doubt lost of backup waiting just around the corner." Threl's claws start to slide out, a bit late this time. "Damn this feels like old times. Good to see ya again."

Quite used to unexpected suprises, Aleister springs immediatly into action. And not one for overly complex strategies, he reaches across the table and grabs the metallic skull, turning a one-eighty, he id's his target, launches the skull at him, and drops into a low crouch, hand on his pistol, all smooth as silk, like he'd planned it.
The head flies straight at fatty, too busy reaching for his weapon to defend himself, he takes it hard in the face and goes down, spread eagle on the floor next to his chair.
Aleister crosses the floor with a few quick steps, staying low, and scoops King Chrome's head back into the bag, "Thanks Chromey... thats two favors I owe ya... heh." Rising just enough to look down to the lower level, he could see a group of people pushing past the crowd at the front of the club. He snickers and turns to Threl, "Looks like we're in for some fun chummer..."

Takes the credstick and ID (probably not real, but might still lead somewhere) and takes another quick look over the rail. the club was crowded, it'd be slow going coming in or out. "Nah, I got a better idea..." Holds up his weapon and fires a few rounds into the ceiling. Even with the music blaring the shots are audible, and few people living in this city wouldnt recognize the sound of gunfire. As he'd hoped, the clubs patrons break for the doors, the surge of bodies crashing into the fat-mans friends and pushing them back the way they came.
Aleister turns to Threl and nods his head in the direction of the door he came in though, and starts making is way towards the exit, weapon in hand.

Gunfire. Her gray eyes lighted upon the far distance, and she registered the sound of a bike taking off. Her curiosity sparked, Kaeda emerged soundlessly into the night life of the region. Pulling her hood over her eyes, she merged into the current of traffic, however thin and sparse. The sound of the bike was easy for her to track, and soon she found a good place to intersect it. She wasn't too sure what she would do at that point of time, but knew that she would come up with a plan soon enough. As she traveled mostly on auto-pilot, she double checked her gauntlet and locked the mechanism into place. Her gray eyes shimmered green for a brief moment, but no passer-byer could possibly have picked up on it.