Dark and Stormy Night (I always wanted to use it as a title.)


It was a dark and stormy night. Clouds obscured the gibbous moon. Lightning flashed, illuminating the windows’ frosted glass etched by decades of acid rain. Seconds later, thunder rumbled through the cluttered room.

Or at least it looked cluttered to the man standing alone to one side, unmoving with the exception of his eyes. He wore a duster style long coat, held a ballistic riot shield and wore a helmet. Below the duster and above boots, kneepads were built into the pants. He knew the items he thought of as cluttered were vital to the arcane tasks carried out in the spacious room.

Amidst the clutter, a second man, humming to himself or perhaps chanting it was hard to tell, moved with a conservation of motion totally engrossed in the ongoing procedure. It seemed to require no more than a step or two to reach anything he desired. Beyond his immediate reach were a wide variety of melee weapons, some in stands, others lying on shelves or worktables. One counter was made of glass and on a background of velvet a variety of rings, fine chains, ear rings and studs were displayed. Strewn through the jewelry were a few watches, lighters, pins and pens. Seeming a bit out of place was a tooth. Between the two men was a rack of video monitors displaying views of the exterior of the building.

The stationary man moved to scan the monitors more closely. He said, “So what is the story on this new customer that required me to lend a hand?”

The second man continued working as he answered, “Rocky, the client that originally commissioned this piece…”

“The monowhip,” Rocky cut in.

“…Decided to take a dirt nap at the most inopportune time.”

“Is this an opportune time, Harry?”

“I doubt any time is opportune for the party taking said dirt nap, but the timing was most inconvenient for me, as I was well along in the enchanting process for completing their commission. Instead of just quitting and losing the time and materials I already invested, or completing the enchantment and bonding the focus to myself, which would pretty much be a waste of karma as I have no need or experience in wielding a monowhip, I posted an ad on the matrix proclaiming the benefits for a purchaser of the work in progress,” Harry explained.

“Which are?” Rocky asked curiously.

“Less waiting time on a custom fabricated focus and which would require less than standard karma to bind,” answered Harry.

“I get the reduced wait period, as you were already underway. Care to elaborate on the reduced bonding cost?” Rocky asked.

“I use as many karma reducing techniques as possible during the enchanting. Thanks to you and the group pointing out all the advantages free spirits can impart, I am using the bound free spirit you helped me obtain to further reduce the cost by having the customer give the spirit karma, and that part is where you come in. I’ll have you perform the conjuring ritual to increase the ratio of karma transferred, and then the spirit will pay some of the karma cost from some of the proceeds,” Harry explained. “I know no one better at conjuring than you, and I am hoping your added presence acts as a deterrent for any double cross. I don’t know this customer and didn’t have time to do a thorough background check on him. What I did find points toward either some bad luck or untrustworthiness. I’m not sure which.”

John, Rocky, Stone was glad he had arrived with a full complement of spirits. “So you’re hoping for the best, but anticipating the worst.”

“I am afraid it is a bit more complicated than that. Even if the new customer tries a double cross, I cannot just defend myself to the best of my abilities and perhaps kill the offender. It might drive away business if people start to think dealing with me is an express lane to dying.”

The door bell interrupted the conversation. Taking a quick look at the video monitors, Harry announced, “It’s show time! Please, go lead the new client back here. And try to look dangerous,” he added with a smile.

John Stone could barely stand upright and walk with all the weight of the armor and weapons he was wearing. But he carefully turned, called one of the great form spirits he had summoned earlier in the evening, and just above a whisper spoke, “Come to me, lend me your power,” as he channeled the astral being. Immediately his stride became longer and lost all hint of toppling. John Stone reached the door, unbolted it, and asked the elven man standing there if he had an appointment.

“I was summoned by the enchanter to be on hand for the first bonding of my focus,” he said.

Stone motioned him in, bolted the door behind them, and led the way back to the enchanting shop. He took the man’s cloak, partly being a good host and partly removing potential armor and the ability to conceal weapons.

Harry greeted the new arrival and explained how they were going to reduce the amount of karma needed by having him give it to one of his spirits using a conjuring ritual to improve the ratio, then having the spirit and the man transfer the required karma into the focus.

The elven man consented and John Stone moved forward to perform the ritual. The elven man cocked an eyebrow and said, “It seems you are more than just the muscle.”

“So it seems, and more than a pretty face” said John. “Are you ready to begin?” The elf nodded the affirmative. Stone assensed him.

“Come on over here, Igor,” Harry called to the spirit. John Stone gave the enchanter a sideways glance. “The assistant in all those old, mad scientist, 2D flicks,” Harry explained. I have to call him something and I am surely not going to shout its true name all over the place.” The other two men suppressed smiles.

Igor joined the group of men. Harry asked, “How much karma do you wish to give the spirit?”

The elf answered with a number slightly less than a regular bonding would require.”

John Stone used his magic while speaking Latin phrases. A moment later he said, “You may go ahead.”

The elven man held his hands out toward the floating spirit and the karma flowed from them to the spirit. The spirit seemed to grow brighter or more vivid. The effect was hard to describe, but it was close to the way a bored child’s face would change when it had become content.

Harry stood over a long trough like stone. The stone was a few yards long, perhaps a foot wide and a foot thick with its top side hollowed out, leaving the sides no more than inches thick. Looking at it with mundane eyes revealed a monowhip lying extended the length of the trough. Looking at it astrally revealed the weapon bathed in mana, drawn into the whip.

Harry waved them closer. “It is almost time. If everyone is ready we can proceed.”

“I am ready,” the elven man said.

Harry mentally commanded Igor how much karma to impart to the focus and as Igor finished said, “Go ahead and use your karma to bind it. You will feel it when you have given enough.”

The man nodded and almost immediately smiled. “That didn’t take much,” he said.

“A happy customer thus far,” said Harry. “Would you like to try it out?”

“Of course,” he said.

“Well, be careful when you pick it up that it retracts properly and step over this way to the practice area.” Harry motioned to where stood some wood, straw and padded mock-ups of human torsos.

The elven man came over and deftly destroyed several of them in just a few sweeps. Then a look came to his eyes that John, Rocky, Stone had hoped not to see this night.

Stone knew the look. He himself had felt the tug of emotion before that prompted such looks. The look of greed. The look of knowing how expensive these magical items were and coveting them and the power they would bring. The look of thinking there was a good chance you could take them, get away with the theft, and no one could stop you.

Channeling the spirit made John Stone dual natured, existing simultaneously on the astral and the physical planes. It was this ability that allowed Stone to see them converge around the elven man. Elementals. More elementals than he had predicted the man could command. A hideous look came upon the elementals faces as they looked from the astral plane to the man who controlled them, and then their gaze turned to Harry and Stone.

“He’s attacking!” John yelled and dove for cover behind the heavy stone enchanting gear.

Elementals materialized, crowding into what had moments before seemed adequate space in the enchanting shop. The elven man had surely intended a massacre in the confined space, but a perplexed look crossed his features as his elementals materialized but then did … mostly nothing.

John Stone’s preparations were playing out as he had hoped if trouble came. His own spirits had long been materialized, concealed among the many magical objects, and waiting to confuse any spirits other than Harry’s and Stone’s that entered the shop. Stone drew his pistols and took a cautious look around.

His eyes met a flaming being from another dimension. Fire flew from its fingertips as it came towards him. Stone involuntarily flinched backwards, dodging the incoming flames and bumped into a dazed water elemental then opened fire, spraying the fire elemental with a burst from his machine pistol. Ordinarily the light pistol rounds would likely not have hurt an armored man, or in this case, a good sized spirit. But in this case, Stone had pre-loaded capsule rounds containing water, anticipating mages preferences for using fire elementals for attacks. The fiery apparition kept coming screeching an evil hiss as Stone fired another burst, the gunfire deafening in the enclosed space. The rounds tore through the elemental, little flames licking out its back to note the bullets passage, the barely slowed rounds disintegrated on the brick wall. The elemental was upon him as the last of the shots connected at point blank range and the elemental finally sputtered out of existence, leaving but a tendril of smoke curling toward the ceiling and a fading shriek to mark its passage.

Thankful for investing in fire resistant armor, Stone raised his eyes above the level of the stone and saw the elven man advancing on Harry. Stone raised the Browning automatic and fired a pair of shots at him. Both shots found their mark, but the capsule rounds were loaded with nothing but air – Which would have been effective against an earth elemental – but did little more than raise welts on the man’s fair skin.

The shots did have the effect of drawing the man’s attention. He flicked the whip toward Stone and he ducked behind the heavy trough. However, his ballistic shield was too tall to be concealed by the piece of enchanting equipment and lost a good three inches from its top edge.

Disappointment and fear vied for supremacy of Stone's emotions. Disappointment that the mage had somewhat over come the Confusion. Fear at being attacked by someone using a mono whip. Images from accounts of the bloody aftermath of mono whip attacks, just reinforced by seeing this elf destroy all the practice targets fueled his fear, trumped any disappointment and verged on panic.

Without really thinking the ploy through, Stone used the channeled spirits accident power on the monowhip. The whip’s weighted tip came loose and went sailing into the nearest wall. The mono-filament line of the whip lost its tautness and draped over the elven man’s shoulder. On the backswing, he noticed something was wrong, but not soon enough to stop from drawing the mono-line across his carotid. Arterial spray gushed from the wound, and the man grabbed for his throat. Seconds later his legs collapsed beneath him, dumping him on the shop’s floor.

“Frag!” Harry yelled. “I said killing the customer was bad for business.”

“Dying is better? Besides, he did it to himself,” Stone tried to shirk responsibility for the mishap. “He isn’t dead yet. Probably just in shock." Stone added in a low voice, "Though I doubt he has much time left.”

John vaulted the stone trough to the downed elf. As he watched, over a half dozen watcher spirits winked out. “Harry,” Stone said calmly but with some trepidation, “be ready in case some of these elementals go uncontrolled.” John Stone reached down and put pressure on the neck wound. He felt the blood wanting to surge past his pressure to the rhythm of a heartbeat. “He’s still got a pulse. Get that whip away from him,” Stone ordered and started checking the man closer for weapons or magical items that might be brought into play.

Stone noticed a DocWagon bracelet. “We might just be in luck as far as killing customers being bad for business. He’s wearing a DocWagon bracelet.”

“Really?” Harry perked up.

“It sure looks like one,” Stone replied. “Although I don’t know if it’s alerting DocWagon. Maybe we should take it off so it doesn’t show any vital statistics. Maybe give the ‘Wagon a call and tell them their customer had a mishap and needs help quick. They may even be able to give us some help keeping him alive until they arrive,” said as the adrenaline from nearly dying caused him to ramble.

“Leave the bracelet on. I’ll call them,” Harry said.

As he kept pressure on the laceration, Stone looked around the room. The elementals looked slightly different to him. Something about their auras. It finally came to him that they had gone free. They hadn’t left the room or the plane because his spirits were maintaining their confusion power. “Harry?” Stone inquired as Harry cut the phone connection.

“They’re on their way,” Harry said, “They said to keep the pressure on, making sure not to cut off his air.” Harry carefully removed the monowhip from the man and twisted the handle so that the mono-filament reeled inside. “Too bad you caused the tip to come loose. You probably destroyed the enchantment on a force 6 focus.”

“That’s nice,” Stone flatly replied, unable to care less. “We have a room full of free spirits around us that may or may not be all that happy with us. You know, he must have been planning this double-cross all along. I have rarely seen one guy with this many elementals, plus he had all those watchers. If it weren’t for my precaution of already having my spirits materialized, concealed and instructed we’d be the ones in the pools of blood. Any ideas about how to prevent others from trying something similar? Or getting rid of all of these,” Stone asked, inclining his head to indicate the elementals while his hands aided the dying man.

“What do you propose? I have no ideas right now. I’m kind of happy to be alive. I thought it was all over when he came at me with that whip,” Harry said.

“For the spirits, I think defend ourselves and release them from the confusion one at a time and let them leave or deal with them. For this drek head and your future customers, I am thinking of taking everything he has of any value, packing the pieces of the monowhip on him and letting DocWagon take him away. That way, you fulfilled your contract with him for the monowhip, then defended yourself and to the victor go the spoils. Frag, he may even think someone at Docwagon may have lifted his stuff while he was unconscious. And that's all figuring the fragger survives. It shouldn’t hurt your rep at all. What do you think?” Stone asked.

“It sounds like a capital idea,” Harry agreed.

“Then come around here and keep the pressure on the wound.” That being accomplished, John Stone found a fire extinguisher and approached one of the fire elementals. Through the astral plane he instructed his spirit to drop the confusion from this elemental. His spirit obeyed, the elemental looked about as it regained its wits and fled the physical plane to a metaplane. The procedure was repeated for the last two fire elementals without incident.

Meanwhile, Harry removed all the jewelry the unconscious man wore, then rifled his pockets for credstick and keys while applying pressure to the wound. He noted with satisfaction that two rings and a cigarette lighter were foci. He slipped the ruined mono whip into the elf's pocket.

Stone searched the enchanting shop and quickly located an propane torch, lit it, and started on the water elementals. Both left as soon as the confusion power was withdrawn from them. For the remaining earth and air elemental, John Stone loaded appropriate pistol rounds and gathered all his spirits around them as the confusion power was dropped. The air elemental left quickly enough and the earth elemental departed after slinging a contemptuous limb in Stone’s direction.

Harry said, “It looks like he was carrying a sustaining focus, a power focus and a spirit focus for fire elementals, keys and credstick. Are you interested in any of it?”

“I have no use for the spirit focus and I would just as soon have one of your custom made foci with the reduced karma feature. Why not sell them and we’ll split the proceeds and I’ll apply mine toward the cost of some goodies you can make for me. If you have any trouble getting a good price for the items, let me know. I know a few people who may be interested,” Stone said. “I could probably do something with the keys and credstick.”

The conversation was interrupted by loud banging on the front door. John Stone checked the monitors then went and let in the DocWagon team. Stone consulted his pocket secretary and noted they had arrived in under 5 minutes. No questions other than if they knew the cause of the injury and any treatment given. Stone answered, "His mono whip," and, "nothing but pressure as instructed." In less than two more minutes, they were gone with the client.

John, Rocky, Stone was anxious to leave for several reasons, not the least was the possibility that Docwagon would report the incident to Lone Star.

“Rocky, are you sure you only want a force 2 whip? I could easily make you a more powerful one, and the cost could be offset by the proceeds from the jerk’s foci,” Harry said. “Or dress it up a bit by stitching gold and silver into the grip, perhaps inlaying some ivory and maybe ruby or sapphires.”

“No. A plain old force 2 leather whip is all I want. Force 2 isn’t illegal, and a leather whip is easy to conceal and there’s nothing flashy to make others covet it,” Stone said and then thoughts started coming to him. “Unless it wouldn’t be too difficult to weave some silver filaments into the braid, then it would be more effective against were-beings. Inlaid ivory and maybe some strong wood in the grip and a bit of gold stitching sounds real nice, but nothing ostentatious. On second thought, leave the gold out of it. Maybe the wood will make it more effective if I ever run afoul of vampires.”

“That sounds great. After all, I like putting the 'art' in artificing,” Harry said. “And using different materials in their radical form makes it easier to create and cost less to bond.” As Stone was leaving he could tell Harry was getting excited about creating this new focus.

“Keep me up to date on how things are coming along,” Stone said. “I’ve got to get going.”

And see about binding that ally spirit I just saw in astral space before it went free. It’s worth more to me than any of the foci I saw tonight John, Rocky, Stone thought.



Any use of bold is to denote edits I did after originally posting.

Hmmm, no feedback, no cries for more.

I like it. There is a bit of meta-game in there that I'm not too sure about, but having never read any of the SR novels may well be cannon. Over all a nice telling of the encounter and I wouldn't mind seeing more.

-D

+1 Like

on one hand, i like it . . on the other hand, it's what's otherwise would be bashed as meta-gaming <.<

It really is one of the fiddlier bits of writing Shadowrun material—some things like Force you just can't address sensibly without assuming that they exist at least broadly as in-universe concepts. My usual approach is to throw two researcher names together and make it a scale, so for example the Whitehall-Nakamura Force Scale (I actually have some different canonical name pair, but I forget where I have it written down).

After that, it's mostly a matter of trying not to use too many such constructions close together.

~J

John Stone's hands trembled as he unlocked his car, climbed in and fired the ignition. He'd never gotten used to it. The brush with death. Or taking, or nearly taking another human life. He set the autopilot to drive him home, trusting the computer more at this time than his own distracted driving.

Yes, he thought. Get home, have a drink, and see about binding that ally spirit he had seen go free. Stone retraced his thought and realized he wasn't sure if he had anything to drink at home. Snapped from his thought by this small dilemma, Stone noticed a Stuffer Shack sign through the pouring sheets of rain. He took over from the computer and guided the car into the convenience store's parking lot and into the space as near the door as possible.

Which turned out to be not close at all. Stone looked at the vehicles parked closer to the door than he as he waited for the rain to let up. A GMC Bulldog van sat nearest the door and Stone's first thought was the perfect runner vehicle. Between the Bulldog and Stone, a Ford Americar, another nondescript runner vehicle, and an aging pink Mustang took up parking spaces while and a couple of motorcycles blocked his way on the pock-marked plascrete sidewalk. He couldn't see what lay beyond the van blocking his view and he hadn't noticed as he pulled in other than to note the spaces were occupied.

It must be a holiday or something to get all these people out at this time of night in this weather he thought. Or a bunch of homeless in from their soaked cardboard boxes. I wonder if the bikes are from riders seeking shelter from the storm or true bikers who ride in all weather?

Thinking about donning the helmet to his Rapid Transit Jumpsuit, Stone weighed how silly it would make him look versus the protection it may offer from the acid rain. The roar of the torrential downpour on the vehicle roof lessened to individual thumps, then the thumps decreased in volume to patters and Stone decided this may be as good as it gets for a while, opened the door and made a run for it. Stone hadn't went two steps before remembering the spirit he channeled and used the movement power it bestowed on himself to hasten his dash across the parking lot and entered the Stuffer Shack in a rush.

The floor was a slip and fall artists wet dream and thoughts of easy nuyen flashed through Stone's mind, then the reality of trying to collect on the lawsuit and burning his lone good fake SIN evaporated the scam way faster than the water tracked through the store. But the thought did remind him to activate the guard power. At least now I shouldn't bust my hoop by accident thought Stone.

John looked around and saw a couple of thoroughly soaked people even wetter than him even as some of the rain water dripped from his hair down his neck and on his back, soaking into his armor, irritating him with a not quite ticklish sensation. Stone decided to head to the aisle with the disposable umbrellas first, involuntarily flinching from the dripping water. If they are out of umbrellas, I'm getting a poncho. Frag, I'll settle for a tablecloth or a garbage bag if I have to Stone thought. Then Stone noticed the strikingly beautiful elven girl with a single spike of orange hair behind the checkout counter. Her nametag identified her as Wanda. Stone slowed his step, considered striking up a conversation, then noticed the evil look from the dwarf directly ahead of him who seemed to be the girls boss, and disappeared down the nearest aisle.

Stone almost ran into a thigh high little boy. Stone dodged the boy, who seemed to ask to get every item that came into view. Then Stone passed a woman, evidently the boy's mother, who repeated, "No, Louis," in a robotic monotone. Stone decided to use the gap midway down the aisle to move over an aisle and get out of sight. In this aisle, to Stone's left was a man dressed head to toe in white accompanied by a woman dressed head to toe in black, the skintight leather of her outfit adorned with about 42 working zippers and 8 meters of chain wrapped around her body and appendages. Stone wondered if they were entertainers before mumbling drew his attention to the right where a man seemed to be having a conversation with a toaster. Or maybe himself, Stone thought, or he may just be on a comcall. Who knows? Who cares? But this aisle was too crowded.

The next aisle over yielded paydirt in the form of Use'N'Lose disposable items. Stone found the last two umbrellas and chose the fluorescent green (the thought of the color helping bring out the green of his eyes not even passing through his mind) over the neon hot pink one and headed toward the end of the aisle and the refrigerated coolers. Of course though, they weren't just coolers, they were freezers, so Stone made his way toward the back corner of the store and the coolers on the back wall. It must be marketing, he thought. Make people go through the entire store to get a cold drink and entice them to make an impulse buy along the way. As Stone walked he noticed the camera in the corner, near the ceiling, watching him with its unblinking eye.

He rounded the back corner and started checking the cooler contents through the plexiglass doors. Soymilk, Synthjuice, caffsoda, and finally beer. Stone avoided the soybeer, it gave him a headache instead of a proper hangover, and was reaching for an elven import when a gunshot rang out.

It was followed by a high pitched female voice shrieking for all she was worth. Followed quickly by another blast and continued shrieking. The shots hit something near the front of the store from the barely distinguishable impact sounds. Then another shot, barely less deafening than the first two, and a crashing impact at the end of Stone's aisle as the Cook-It-Yerself™ microwave met its maker. And through it all, the continuous female wail.

Don't tell me he ran straight into the food fight . .

The gunshots drew Stone's gaze to the front of the store, and as he looked over the tops of several aisles of consumer items, a guy in a fur coat scrambled up the first row of shelves, threw back his head and let out a wolfish howl. Dual natured due to the spirit he channeled, Stone easily saw the aura of magic enveloping the howling man and identified him as a shaman. If the shaman's aura hadn't given him away, the city spirit hovering at his shoulder on the astral plane would have.

It was only coincidence that the building became silent when Stone noticed the Shaman. The sound coming from the overhead lights seemed deafening in the stillness. It was broken by a voice that tried to sound menacing but failed with its nasal tone.

"I'm the prince of the city and it's tax time! Get out yer credsticks, car keys jewelry and any other valuables because we've come to collect!" Stone followed the voice to its owner, standing behind Wanda, the cashier, and using her as a shield.

Well, John, Rocky, Stone asked himself, do I want to get involved in this mess? Stuffer Shacks got robbed all the time. They hadn’t hired him to do security. Then John looked at Wanda. Stone always had a thing for elven women, but this one, though possessing raw natural beauty didn't really appeal enough to him to put his life in harms way. She'd probably be all right.

Wanda started screaming again at the top of her lungs. Unless she keeps that up, Stone grimaced. Just as he had almost made up his mind to slip out the back way, he heard a loud smack and a little boy’s scream of anguish.

"Slitch, shut that little fragger up or I'll shut him up permanently," came the yell from the area he had almost run into the little, obnoxious boy. The demand fell on deaf ears, or rather deafening ears as the mother started shrieking in panic.

Stone stopped in his tracks. "You had to do go and give me a reason," he said so quietly only he could hear.

Sylphs, Stone thought, use your power of Confusion on the robbers and all those helping them. Stone showed the two spirits a mental image of the shaman, the spirit, the man hiding behind Wanda, the man he saw in the aisle where the boy and his mother had been. Guard all those that are unarmed from Accident. Undines, conceal me and all my spirits and as many store employees as you can manage. Gnome and Manitou spirits subdue those who are robbing the store and any that aid them.

The spirits moved to better positions and materialized, mostly atop shelving, then in a blink of an eye they somehow managed to blend in with their surroundings, even somewhat drawing shadows to themselves as the concealment took effect.

Stone watched as the shaman and the man behind Wanda had puzzled expressions cross their features. Geek the mage first, he thought and cast a Stun bolt at the shaman, then anticipated the backlash from channeling a huge amount of mana to ensure he took down the shaman. It reminded Stone of electricity running through a circuit. Too much juice and you threw a breaker. More energy and you melted the wires insulation. Even more energy and stuff started throwing off sparks or catching fire. But the pain never came. Stone wondered if karma was on his side for choosing to intervene, or did he just get lucky?

Then the thought about the strategy, the geek the mage first one, yes that one, occurred to Stone and he drew both his pistol and the machine pistol from their concealed holsters, hoping to distract from his magical nature by wielding the mundane weaponry. Stone watched as the shaman's eyes rolled back in his head and then fall from sight. Hovering in astral space near where the shaman had been, the city spirit's aura subtly changed and then it too disappeared from sight.

Another free spirit created? Stone thought.

A shout focused his attention. "Wiley!" Was the single word scream from a feminine voice. Looking toward its origin, Stone glimpsed a young woman as she skittered past the end of an aisle, something hobbling her gait.

As he ducked a bit to get his head below the level of the top shelves, Stone made his way between the gap in the aisles and toward the front of the store where he had seen the boy and his mother. Toward where the woman ran. Toward the unseen shaman. Toward the sound of the guns.

John took a quick peek from the aisle gap, seeing only a stock boy taking cover. Smart kid, Stone thought and quickly crossed the aisle to the next gap. Another quick look into empty aisles and Stone was to the next gap. The preliminary glance this time revealed the manager who’d given Stone the evil eye earlier taking cover behind shelves at the end of aisle 11, having bigger and more urgent worries now than guys wasting his cashier‘s time.

The next aisle was empty, but up toward the high ticket, electronic items, where a cashier could keep an eye on things if they were so inclined, a scrawny elf teen was reaching for the ceiling tiles with eyes wide open in terror. A tall guy, his red hair tied in a top knot, stood in front of the teen, menacing him with a katana. Stone took aim at the sword wielder’s back and fired a pair of shots. Both shots hit their target.

Neither shot seemed to hurt the katana freak, but they did get his attention.

Stone looked at the pistol he had fired with no effect and noticed the blue tape stuck to the end of the magazine where it protruded slightly from the pistol grip. Water filled capsule rounds Stone thought, solving the mystery of the ineffective shots, but doing nothing to stop the katana guy from advancing on him. Quit thinking like a sammy and stun bolt this guy Stone thought. The guns are just for onlookers.

Stone cast the spell. The katana guy took one step into the aisle, swayed, sent a flailing arm out that raked a swath of snack foods from the shelf and pitched forward on his face.

Stone backed through the gap in the aisles and moved away from the position where he’d fired the shots and toward the frozen food cases. He holstered the machine pistol and swapped magazines in the automatic. As Stone neared the end of the aisle, he peeked around the corner. Seeing it was empty, Stone rounded the corner then looked down the aisle he had been in when he dropped the katana guy, and saw the white haired guy who had been talking to the toaster. The toaster talker was looking toward the fallen katana guy from the partial cover of the gap between the aisles.

From near the entrance to the Stuffer Shack a male voice shouted, “Spike, Slicer, Static, see what those shots were. We may have a hero, or Wiley may be a total clutz and fell and knocked himself out.”

Stone looked closer at the toaster talker. First, he didn’t look like he was wearing gang colors. He wore an armored jacket emblazoned with a circuitry design. Second, he looked older than your typical ganger. Third, he hadn’t been in any strategic position when the robbery started, or even looking like he was casing the place as far as Stone could recall. He did look like he was wet, like perhaps he had rode in on one of the bikes out front. As far as that went, Stone only recalled the guy either talking to a toaster or maybe on an unseen cell phone. So Stone called to him in a stage whisper, “Hey.”

The toaster talker heard, turned, saw Stone waving to him with the machine pistol and brought up a shotgun and fired.

Stone whirled back around the corner of the aisle as sporks exploded from the shotgun blast. The frozen food case took the brunt of the attack. Stone watched as something impersonating bright green peas bled out of ruptured bags. He knew some of the blast should have hit him, but didn’t know if the old guy’s aim was off or if the spirit he was channeling had prevented any injury. Either way was fine with Stone as long as it wasn‘t him bleeding. He retreated back from the end of aisle 10, skipped over the aisle he had just hurried down and moved down aisle 14 to the gap between the aisles.

As Stone was doing this the old guy was yelling, “Now see what you made me do? You made me hurt the freezer door!” A moment later the man fired his shotgun again. Stone heard cereal explode in the vacant aisle between him and the old man, ducked a bit lower, and tried to scurry along a bit quieter than before. More shots followed and Stone could hear merchandise in the intervening aisle getting destroyed.

“Mom!” The excited voice of the little boy exclaimed. “Did you see that, Mom? Did you? Those piles of rocks just fell on the man that hit me! It was like a giant dropped them out of the sky!”

Undines, Stone thought think you can subdue this guy with the shotgun attacking me? If he isn’t helping rob the store, he sure isn’t helping stop any robbers.

Yes. He stumbled straight into Foodfight . .

Heh, I've never played Food Fight, or even read it. I'm enjoying the story though.

-D

Changed a paragraph in the first post. I bolded it to make it simpler to find if anyone wanted to reread. I seemed to have been in a Devil Went Down to Georgia mood at the time I wrote it.

The bark skinned beings appeared out of humid air and dropped on the man behind the checkout counter in apparent disdain of the shotgun he held on the cashier. Stake-like branches pin cushioned the dazed man and the tree-beings had disappeared even before the blood began to pool from where the body dropped on the floor. A blood spattered Wanda wailed with renewed vigor.

A waterfall cascaded over the toaster talker, knocking him to the floor. The second undine coalesced around the toaster talker, raising him in its swirling liquid, bashing him into the shelves to either side as it spun him around and dropped his unconscious body to the floor.

Stone crept through the gap in the aisles, saw only the manager still taking cover and moved to the next set of shelves. He looked to the next aisle and saw only the downed katana guy. The next aisle revealed the toaster talker laying in a heap. In the other direction the man in white and the woman in black had pulled bags of cat litter from the lower shelf, crawled onto the shelf and arranged the bags to form a bunker in front of them. Stone hurried across that aisle and peeked down the next set of aisles.

Louis’s mother rushed past him half dragging, half carrying Louis with her. The ganger lay on the floor, the gnomes hovering over him. The gang member tossed his gun away and curled up in a fetal position. Stone called the spirits off him. Gnomes, he’s subdued. See if there are others or stand by to see if more reveal their self. Stone noted the emblem on the ganger’s combat jacket, a skull pierced through the left eye with a bloody icicle.

Past where the gnomes had subdued the gang member, Stone could see Wanda behind the counter but no one around her.

Stone checked the next aisle and found it empty. He prepared himself for the last aisle fully expecting the shaman and who knew what else. Stone took a deep breath and spun around the corner. The shaman was on the floor with a girl in 6 inch high heels bent over him. She wore a long coat with an emblem of a skull with a bloody icicle through the left eye. Stone hardly hesitated, centered himself, and stun bolted her. The girl toppled over from where she squatted on her haunches beside the shaman. A submachine gun clattered out from beneath her long coat.

Stone moved toward the check-out counter and the still screaming cashier. She’s going to have a sore throat for sure Stone thought. As he got nearer, he could see the blood spatter on the elf girl. Stone was tempted to stun bolt her just to shut her up, but figured if it made it harder for him to hear anything, it made it harder for any more enemies to hear too. Stone got close enough to see the downed man near the cashier, holstered the pistol and hurried around the counter to get Wanda away from the area. As Stone guided her away, Mr. Nick cautiously came out from the end of the aisle where he had taken cover. Seeing Mr. Nick, Wanda ran to him and buried her face against his chest. Stone took the opportunity to slip into the back room and the office. Up away from the work area was a trio of video recorders and monitor. Stone hit rewind, then play, made sure it was the surveillance tapes then ejected all three and pocketed them. Stone checked the one remaining camera and saw no more gang members. Deciding to make sure, he summoned a watcher and tasked it with checking the store and the area immediately surrounding it for anyone conscious and armed and to report back to him.

It took the watcher less than a minute to return and report that there were two people barricaded on a shelf who were conscious and armed. No one else fit the parameters.

Sylphs, search those unconscious for foci or anything magical, weapons, keys and credsticks, and bring what you find to me. Stone ordered one of the gnomes to cleanse the area of background count, with the side benefit of erasing astral signatures, then left the office and headed for the aisle where he had seen the medkits, grabbed the most expensive one and took it to see about helping the man behind the counter.

Mr. Nick had calmed Wanda from screaming to sobbing and approached Stone. He asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Sure,” Stone said, “you can go ahead and try to help this guy. I’d rather be getting along and out of here if it’s all the same to you.”

“Yes. Of course,” Mr. Nick said. Taking over, Mr. Nick peeled the adhesive away from the bio-monitor patch and affixed it to the wounded man’s chest. The medkit beeped in short order and Mr. Nick read the instructions to apply the DMSO patch with the drug cocktail the medkit had mixed. An outline of a human torso blinked with red dots instructing the placement of the drug laced patch along with a text message about placing over a major artery.

Stone started for the door, halted and went back and got his beer, a poncho and umbrella. As he stopped at the register, Mr. Nick waved him on. “It’s on the house. Sorry for tonight’s inconvenience,” then resumed answering questions posed by the medkit about the subjects condition.

Outside and beside his car, poncho donned and umbrella deployed, Stone had the spirits hand him the keys, the rest of the items got stowed in the trunk for the time being. Stone looked at a couple of the keys and noted the Suzuki emblem. He looked at the motorcycles on the sidewalk, also Suzuki. He fitted the keys in the ignition, got them to turn and removed them. With the remaining key chain, Stone clicked the unlock button and the GMC Bulldog flashed its lights. Stone got in, started the van and backed it around in a semi circle. Flinging the back doors open, he tasked the undines with loading the motorcycles. Stone programmed his Honda-GM 3220 to go park at the Renraku Arcology public parking. He had the watcher accompany it and to report if anyone entered the vehicle.

As Stone verged upon finally leaving, Mr. Nick appeared beside the driver’s door, getting drenched in the process.

“The medical program says he needs to be taken to a medical facility immediately or he is unlikely to recover,” Mr. Nick said.

“Where’s the closest hospital?” Stone asked.

“No where near. But there is a Universal Brotherhood chapter house just a few blocks down that street,” said Mr. Nick as he pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. Stone considered for a moment then pulled the van up sideways in front of the store’s entrance doors. He got out the side door, leaving it open behind him and hurried inside, removed the poncho and wrapped the ‘prince’ in it, then picked up the bundle and carried it out to the van and put it in. Finally, Stone left the scene of the crime.

Nearing the chapter house, Stone felt an odd sensation. Even his spirits were loath to near the place. So Stone got the ‘prince’ out, laid him at the doorstep and leaned on the horn as he drove away.

Stone navigated his way to the Sea-Tac airport. Along the way, the benefit of the spirit he had been channeling ended. The drain hit Stone, leaving him with a dull throbbing behind his eyes. Stone wished he could put the van on autonav, sit back and relax, and give himself some time to let the headache pass. At least blood hadn’t started pouring out his nose, or his ears and eyes for that matter like that one poor fragger who he’d seen knock himself unconscious trying to cast a spell. Without the spirit augmenting him, all the armor he was wearing became a burden. Stone pulled to the curb and parked, got into the back of the van and started removing it. Off came the armored duster, the forearm guards, the holstered pistol and machine pistol, then the heavy jumpsuit. He left on his form fitting armor, as he was only wearing his briefs under it. Stone replaced his pistol and long coat and resumed his voyage, finally arriving at long term parking without further incident.

When Stone arrived, he tried to sit back and relax. He considered the space in the back of the van, removed his long coat and arranged it on the floor. Stone retrieved his jumpsuit, wadded it up into a makeshift pillow and stretched out from just behind the van’s doghouse between the seats, into the back of the van and maneuvered his legs in the space between the motorcycles. Although it wasn’t the most comfortable place he had ever reclined, Stone felt the tension start to leave his body as the rain tapped away at the van’s roof. It wasn’t long at all until the headache eased then subsided.

With a thought toward the beer that had involved in this mess getting warm in his car, Stone got back to the tasks at hand. He found another Bulldog van, donned his long coat and with the aid of his pocket multi-tool soon had the plates switched. Then Stone drove to short term parking, stowed all his equipment he was leaving so it would be out of sight, put his Browning in its shoulder holster back on under his duster and left the van. The storm had passed but a steady rain still fell as he waited under the procured umbrella for the shuttle to arrive and rode it to the terminal.

There, Stone caught the first available air taxi, an Emerald City going to the Aztechnology pyramid for 100 nuyen. As he seated himself, the pilot recommended that everyone leave their seat belts fastened for the duration of the flight as the winds from the storm were still swirling. Stone considered calling upon one of his spirits to use its guard power to ensure the flights safety, realized one had only a single service remaining and decided to go ahead and channel it.

Stone used the channeled spirit's guard power on himself, the helicopter, the pilot and the woman seated next to the door. During the flight, he noticed there were advertising drones out like anybody is going to be looking up into the rain Stone thought.

Worst Night Ever?
Worst. Night. Ever.

The air taxi dropped him as requested atop the Mayflower Park Hotel, the pilot commenting about the surprisingly smooth ride. Stone took the elevator down, exited the building right next to the monorail, climbed the stairs to the monorail platform, and deposited a nuyen just as a train just departed. If you weren't so out of shape, you would have caught that ride Stone thought, then reconsidered or if you had been channeling a spirit he laughed to himself. But that's one of the big problems, channeling a spirit to get its boosts or using a power to make walking 5 blocks use no more energy or time than walking one block.

Stone considered walking the ten blocks just to reach the arcology plus more to get to the public parking area, tossed aside the idea and found a seat on a bench. He had quite the choice at the hour. Bowing his head and closing his eyes, Stone played back his dances with death in the last few hours. The adrenaline rush was gone and he could almost feel himself shake. Stone threw off the onset of the jitters with a shake of his head and looked around. A couple youngsters in leathers with a definite swagger were heading his way, sensing vulnerable prey. Stone shifted his posture just a bit, making his long coat fall open a bit and letting his Browning peek out. The more perceptive teenager clasped his friend at the elbow and steered him away from Stone. Another train arrived before any more incidents occurred, and Stone rode it to the Renraku Arcology.

He made it safely to his car and slumped into the seat, programmed it to take him home and considered opening his beer that was getting warmer by the moment just as surely as God was really fragging with him tonight. The channeling ended a few miles from home, and Stone took it as a sign to pop open a beer. After all, no gangs had attacked, actually, no gangs had come anywhere near him, no lightning struck him or the car, and no cows fell out the sky.

No sooner had he removed the can from his lips after swallowing as much of the tepid liquid as he could bear, then flashing lights appeared behind him followed by a quick WAAAHH! from a siren. Stone looked back to see red and blue lights flashing at about grill height. His first thought was about the cache of weapons in the trunk. His next thought was the open beer in his hand. But surely I can’t get arrested for drinking and driving, the car was on autonav Stone thought. He put the beer inside the center console then disengaged the autonav and simulated a transponder assisted stop, then re-engaged the auto-pilot. As the vehicle stopped and the engine shut down, Stone rolled down the window, noticing the rain had stopped.

Stone avoided looking in the mirror reflecting the high wattage search beam focused on it. Before he knew what had happened he felt a brush against his chest and a voice asking, “What do we have here?” as the person who pulled Stone over snatched the Browning from his holster, almost like they knew it was carried there.

“What’s your,” as recognition came, “probable cause,” Stone started, then let the protest trail off.

“Probable cause? I don’t need any probable cause. I’m the Star, buddy,” the female said. “Now get your hoop out of there. Place your hand on the door and the other on the roof where I can see them as you get out.” The Lone Star cop backed away a step and tucked the commandeered pistol in the back of her pants.

Stone got out as instructed and started to look back over his shoulder.

“Just keep looking straight ahead, mister,” she said, halting his movement. “Put your hands on top of the vehicle.”

Stone complied.

“Now keep them there and step your feet back.”

As Stone did so, she kicked his feet apart and while he was off balance and before he realized what was happening, she had wrenched one of his arms behind his back and a cuff locked on his wrist. She leaned her body into him, practically molding herself to him.

“Surely we can work something out,” Stone said.

...and it just keeps on going...

I actually decided NOT to have him run into an in progress SR at the end of his flight. I was trying to remember how the beginning of Never Deal With a Dragon went and was thinking about having him wind up in the middle of it. But re-read it and decided it would be more trouble than it was worth to work him into, around, and out of that mess.

If anyone really wants to know where this is going, I'm thinking of running the character through a bunch of the printed adventures, with a few mods here and there, plus some more extracurricular side steps.

Next up...
- getting out of the Lone Star situation.
- an astral quest for a true name (already rolled it out and have it pretty much plotted in my mind.)
- then back to a printed adventure.

Which begs the question, should I post spoiler alerts when writing about these old adventures? Silver Angel is 20+ years old, but may be hard to find a copy. Definite plans for Dreamchipper (which this character got created to play.) I suppose I can put the entire posts in spoiler tags if there is concern.

When i read UB and then Renraku Arkology i cringed, a bit, i'll admit that . . But a female LS Type ain't that much better than the first two . .
And no, don't do the spoiler warnings. If people haven't played the old stuff by now, chances are they never will either . . well, as long as Catalyst does not decide to simply upgrade the rules in them and re-release them for SR4.

I've never done modules (from all the way back in the 80's when I started playing RPGs in general). So please no spoilers, I'm loving the hell out of the stories.

-D

“Work something out,” she repeated as she took his other arm, brought it behind his back and finished cuffing him. “Like what? You want to drink my bath water? Or lick the toe jam from between my toes?”

“Uhm,” Stone stammered. “That isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” he said as she patted his buttocks down in more an intimate manner than a professional manner then spun him around.

It was Stone’s first look at the woman after she had pulled him over. She wore a button down blouse with a couple more buttons unbuttoned than professionalism or modesty dictated, and a detectives badge in its holder was clipped to her breast pocket pulling the blouse material down and a bit to the side. Stone caught a glimpse of a lacy white bra.

“What if that’s what I have in mind as well as a few other dirty, demeaning deeds?” she asked. She followed Stone’s gaze. “See something you like?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I like very much what I see,” Stone said and got slapped for his honesty.

“That’s it. I’m taking you in,” she said. “You have the right to shut the frag up. If you don’t shut the frag up, anything you say can be used against you, and we’ll twist it around so it will be used against you. If you can’t afford an attorney, you’re fragged, but we’ll provide one for you for free. You’re fragged because you get what you pay for.”


“Can you do something about my car?” Stone asked. “If you get my pocket secretary out of my front pocket and hit 227 for me, I can just have it drive itself home.”

The Lone Star officer sighed then began fishing around in the area where front pants pockets would be. After getting groped a few times, Stone said, “It’s in the coat pocket.”

“Is that so?” the woman said. “Are you carrying another concealed weapon or are you just glad to see me?”

“I’m glad to see you, of course,” Stone said and bent forward to give her a quick kiss.

He was rewarded with another slap to the face as she easily evaded his effort. “Am I going to have to strip search you?” she asked.

“I might enjoy that,” Stone said, “but not out here on the side of the road.”

“I bet you would,” she said as she pulled out his pocket secretary, dialed it as instructed and held it to Stone’s head as he gave instructions to the car. Moments after hanging up, the car drove away. She led Stone to the Ford Americar and loaded him into the back seat then started driving.

Stone didn’t know of any Lone Star station houses along the route they were taking. As a matter of fact, they were heading away from most everything. “I don’t know of any Lone Star offices down this way,” Stone said.

“Oh, you don’t?” She asked rhetorically. “It’s a safe house I know about. A good place to do a thorough strip search and I can interrogate you at my leisure.”

“Uhm, is this going to involve probing?” Stone asked.

“You want probed, do you?” I can arrange a mind probe and a full body cavity search,” she said.

*snickers*
Up close and personal with LS ^^

“You know mind probes aren’t admissible as evidence,” Stone said. “And I was hoping I’d be the one doing the probing from all the groping you’ve done so far. Do you do that to all your suspects?”

“Only the cute ones I pull over in the middle of the night after getting called out of bed to go into work,” she said.

The Americar pulled up to his house and she opened the door and pulled him out. She marched him inside and to a bedroom.

Fetching another pair of handcuffs from the dresser, these with some padding, she fastened one around his wrist, backed him up to the headboard and fastened the other end to the bed. She unlocked the double cuffed wrist from the original handcuff, pushed him back onto the unmade bed, quickly rolled over him and had the remaining hand with the original cuff locked to the headboard on the other side of the bed. The bottom half of the form fitting armor, and his briefs, got pulled down into a tangled bunch at his ankles, then she retrieved a belt from the closet, ran it between his legs just above the tangle at his ankles, then lashed it to the bed’s footboard. She propped his head up with pillows so he could easily survey the room, then removed her gun belt and placed it over the corner of the back of a chair. She kicked off her shoes toward the closet and slowly went to work unbuttoning the blouse.

She asked, “Are you enjoying this?”

“Very much,” Stone said.

“I don’t want to have to wash blood...or other stains out of my clothes,” she said.

“What kind of other stains?” Stone asked.

“I’ve had about enough lip out of you for a while,” she said as she finished off the last button then bent over, giving Stone a great view of her cleavage, and removed her socks. Stone wondered if she was going to stuff the socks in his mouth.

“Is this a new type of torture?” Stone asked, “because I’m thinking I’d tell you about anything to see a bit more.”

“I told you I was about tired of your comments,” she said as she stepped onto the bed, and placed her feet beside Stone’s head, then raised one and let the toes rest on his lips. “Clean up those toes,” she said.

Stone hesitated only a moment then took her big toe into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. She guided the other toes and Stone followed her lead. A moan escaped her lips. Stone felt like making a comment about her really enjoying this, but knew it wouldn’t be understood.

The second foot didn’t take as long.

Abruptly, she stepped off the bed and approached the dresser. Facing Stone, she unbuttoned then teasingly unzipped the pants, revealing matching lace panties. With the pants hanging on her curving hips, she removed her blouse and tossed it on the chair. Then she turned her back to Stone and slowly shimmied the pants down. She stepped out of them and kicked them toward the chair. Placing her hands on the dresser and leaning forward, she swayed her hips, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, teasing Stone until she heard him groan.

Then she quit teasing...

I corrected a continuity error in the July 23 post. Also added the reading of the rights.

The continuity error lets me add to the next post something I wanted to put in originally.

I'm surprised no one caught the error...or I'm deluded about the number of people following the story. OR, people like the story and ME so much they didn't want to point it out. Yeah, that's it...

Stone listened to her slow, rhythmic breathing and thought she was asleep. “Hey,” Stone said in a low tone, then again just a bit louder.

Getting no response, Stone called to one of his spirits. When a large part of ones life revolves around dusk and dawn, one gets attuned to it and dawn was nearing. Stone thought about the request he was going to make. Free me from these restraints? He reconsidered the phrasing, thinking about a few of the ways it could be interpreted and cause a bunch of trouble. “Without causing any damage, can you get free me from these restraints? The key should be in the pants over there,” Stone nodded with his head to the pants on the floor, near the chair, under a bra and panties.

The spirit retrieved the key and freed Stone. Stone thanked the spirit as he rubbed his chafed wrist. He got bottom half of his form fitting armor off and his briefs up then eased himself off the bed, careful not to awaken the sleeping Lone Star detective. He took the bed sheet and covered the woman, stepped to the chest of drawers, got a pair of sweat pants and put them on.

Leaving the bedroom and following the hall, Stone hung his duster in the closet, went to the bathroom and cleaned up, then went to the kitchen. He scavenged the refrigerator and the cupboards for breakfast. Stone hadn’t slept a wink. It was the same way every time he nearly got killed, or at least shot at. The kitchen was stocked with some real food, not the usual soy and krill filled stuff. Stone fixed a few eggs and some soycaf, even real coffee was too expensive for most but the ultra-rich. Stone microwaved some instant oatmeal and put the quick breakfast on a tray with some silverware and went back to the bedroom.

The woman was barely awake, but the scent of the food stirred her. “That smells good. So how did your thing with Harry go?”

“Not that well. The customer tried a double cross and things got a bit out of hand for a bit. Mara, are you done on playing your fantasy? You put those cuffs on a bit tight and my wrist chafed. But if you want to go back to it, I’ll put them back on.”

“Oh, you poor little, big bad shadowrunner,” she said. I am pretty sure the mood is broken. I never did get around to probing you.” She started eating the offered eggs and oatmeal, then changed subjects. “I was expecting you back last night.”

“I stopped off at a Stuffer Shack on the way back to get some beer. A gang decided it was a good time for a robbery, so it wasn’t the best time to be shopping.”

“That was you?” she asked. “I got called out of bed to look into the scene. It seems magic was suspected, but it was hard to tell. Actually, the manager said some troll went through the gang like he was really irritated by the interruption. When asked about the pool of blood behind the counter, the manager said the troll took the bleeder with him, saying something about taking dinner home to one of his ghoul friends. What really happened to the guy?”

“I started first aid until the manager took over, then as I was leaving, he said the medkit advised he get immediate medical attention, so I dropped him off on the steps of a Universal Brotherhood. Probably more than he deserves.”

“...And the rest of the hours...?”

After a pause, “I was taking care of some loose ends that came up,” Stone said, not wanting to tell a Lone Star officer anything compromising. Better to have plausible deniability. Besides, she could connect the dots. They finished the quick breakfast in less time than it took to prepare. Stone collected the dishes and tray and started toward the kitchen. “I need to call Donovan about something. I’ll be a few minutes,” Stone said.

Stone thought about the early hour, decided he could leave a message with a receptionist or a machine and placed the call. He started washing the dishes while the call connected.

“Hello, how may I be of assistance?” The voice on the other end asked.

“Hi, this is Rocky,” Stone said, “I was hoping to leave a message for Dr. Donovan. Voice mail is fine.”

“One moment. I think the doctor is available,” the voice said before the sound switched to Muzak. It sounded like an old Britney Spears tune.

Donovan’s voice came across the connection. “Hey, Rocky. What can I do for you?”

“I wasn’t really expecting to get you in person,” Stone said. “I was wondering if you could arrange for some off duty nurses wanting some extra nuyen to come over and monitor me while I go astral?”

“How long?” Donovan asked.

“I’m not sure. I’m going questing. A half day at least. Maybe up to a day and a half. I’d like them to administer some first aid if the situation starts looking like I’m going terminal.”

“Why not just come down to the clinic?” Donovan asked. “Then the on duty staff can take care of you and if you flatline an actual doctor will be handy.”

“I’m not sure I can afford it,” Stone said. “I figured paying about 20 nuyen an hour, so my budget was going to run from 250-750 nuyen.”

“How about I just charge you a thousand nuyen,” Donovan said, “of course any emergency procedures get added on.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Stone said, “plus it sounds safer for the little extra nuyen.”

“Sure it’ll be safer,” Donovan said. “We can just stick you on a gurney and wheel you to where there’s room. If it gets too crowded, we can strap you down and stand you up in a corner somewhere.”

Stone could hear the humor in the doctor’s voice. “As long as you don’t stand me on my head,” Stone said. “How soon is too soon?” he asked.

“Any time. See you soon,” Donovan said and the call terminated.

Mara was up when Stone returned after finishing the dishes. Moments later, the sound of the shower running let him know where she was. Stone went into the bedroom and picked her clothes up for her, then noticed the computer was on. Stone looked at the display. It looked like a file on some known criminals. Stone looked closer, scrolling down the screen. There were three suspected/indicted/convicted chop shops listed. Further down was a short list of people suspected of dealing illegal weapons.

My little Lone Star lovely Stone thought, knowing Mara had connected the dots and suspected what his delay was. Then she had been nice enough to access Lone Star files and conveniently left them on display for Stone to find. He removed his clothes.

The shower curtain opened and Stone said, “Hi. Mind if I join you? I may have some bath water to drink.”

Mara smiled and pulled him into an embrace.

“I don’t deserve you,” Stone said.

“I know,” Mara said, “now start lapping up some bath water.”

Stone gave her a dubious look.

“If you want, you can catch it as it runs down me,” Mara said with a smile.

Stone completed what was almost a bi-daily ritual of summoning spirits. From the uppermost floor, Stone had a great view of a stream rushing down the heavily wooded mountain the property sat up against. And a gap in the mountain where the wind rushed through. Whether or not the wind caused the slide that exposed rock in that area, Stone didn’t know. But these features is what had drawn Stone to the property. On hot days, he could even see the heat rise from the nearby highway. Which meant most days Stone could see the domains of almost every spirit he could summon. For cold days, Stone had fuel stoked in a clearing for a bonfire.

The summoning went well, and Stone was recovered from the drain in about a half an hour. As Stone said good-bye to Mara, he promised to call when he got to the clinic.

Stone looked at the list of fences again. He wanted to get rid of the vehicles first, noted the closest place on the list and drove to it. When Stone arrived at the address, the place looked pretty quiet. Circling the boarded up building, he saw no sign of activity and nothing looking like an accessable door. Parking the car, Stone astrally projected and entered the building. The place was empty, not just of life, but of about everything but trash and detritus. Stone returned to his meat body, found the address of the remaining two chop shops/ car fences, noted that one was the one with gang ties and the other had mofia ties and went with the gang tie one as perhaps less likely to pull him into an unwanted association. After plotting a course to the address thinking of landmarks or counting over streets, too bad you couldn’t just follow the street signs in astral space thought Stone, he once again astrally projected and went to check the address, hoping to save time and gas.

After almost getting lost once, Stone found the place, checked it for wards or spirits, then went inside through the roof. The place was packed with vehicles. Stone left, retracing his route to his meat bod and drove to the building in Auburn he had just scouted.

Locating a man size door, Stone knocked on it. Moments later it was opened a crack.

“Yeah,” a voice from within said, “what d’ya want?”

“I was hoping to interest you folks in a few vehicles that came my way,” Stone said.

After another few moments the door opened a bit further for Stone to enter. As soon as Stone stepped through, the door slammed shut behind him and something hard got jammed against his back. A bit alarmed, but not yet worried, Stone raised his hands in a non-threatening manner, thinking they were just being cautious as they had no clue who he was. He got led further into the building and over to four men having a discussion around a table. All of them drew weapons at Stone’s approach.

“What’s this about?” one asked.

“Guy just showed up at the door saying he had some vehicles,” the guy with the gun in Stone’s back said.

One of the seated men quickly got up and hurried to a shaded window, pulled aside the shade and checked outside. “That your Honda?” he asked.

“Yes,” Stone said, “but that isn’t one of the vehicles I was interested in getting rid of.”

“But that’s the car I’m interested in relieving you of,” the man said.

“It’s not for sale,” Stone said.

“I wasn’t planning on buying,” the man said. “Put the keys on the table, along with that duster. It looks like it’s my size.”

“You sure you want to do it this way?” Stone asked, wishing he had channeled a spirit and come expecting a lot more trouble than a simple business transaction.

“I’m sure enough,” the man said, “now peel.”

Stone took the keys from his pocket and tossed them on the table, then started removing a few thing from the duster before relinquishing it.

“All that stuff, too,” the man said.

Stone shook his head in partial disbelief, cursing himself for his stupidity. When the duster came off, a couple of the seated men let out muffled cries of surprise as Stone’s holstered pistol came into view.

“Just who are you?” one of the seated men asked.

“Nobody,” Stone said, “just a fool who was trying to sell a few vehicles he took from the last guys to try and rob him.”

A couple of the men laughed.

“I don’t think we’re trying to rob you. I’m looking at it as you stuck your nose in the wrong place and now you are paying for your mistake. You can leave the gun, too. May as well empty those pants pockets. I’m sure there’s a credstick in there somewhere.” Stone did as told then the one directing the fleecing told the one who had led Stone back, “Get him out of here.”

One of the seated men who had been silent spoke. “I think we should just kill him and be done with him.”

Stone had assensed the men and not noticed any magical ability among them. He called his spirits to him, readying them if things got worse. He’d delayed starting anything while under the sights of five gunmen. Stone didn’t like those odds and was waiting for the odds to shift more in his favor. Way more in his favor. But talk about ending the meet and Stone had Stone on the verge of ordering the spirits to materialize and attack. Best to get away from as many as possible and maybe closer to cover Stone thought.

“No need for that,” Stone said and started walking with raised hands toward the door he had entered through, half expecting a bullet in the back at any moment. The bullet hadn’t come as Stone passed through the door and heard it slam behind him. He looked back at the cinder block building, saw no one and hurried around it’s corner, ran in front of the only car around as he crossed the street and didn’t slow down until he had rounded the corner of the next building. He only slowed down when he felt pain in his side brought on by the exertion.

Stone started checking his surroundings and considering his next move. He came to an alley between two brick buildings devoted to businesses, decided it didn’t look too filthy or cluttered, and turned down it. Near the middle of the alley and the cross alley were dumpsters. One pushed up near a utility pole with a fire hydrant a few feet the other side also flanked by a dumpster. Stone checked between them for any squatters, then positioned himself out of easy sight between the pole and hydrant, using both to protect anyone from ramming the dumpsters into him, and astrally projected.

The alley lost all color and became about fifty shades of gray, like walking into an old 2D movie. Stone backtracked to the chop shop, along the way seeing vivid color in stark contrast to the lifeless gray. Bits of life here and there where a weed grew up through a crack in pavement, or a neat row where grass grew through a crack along the crack between sidewalk and curb. A car passed by along the street Stone hovered above, a glow of the driver behind opaque gray glass. Colorful weeds grew in the cracks between pavement and the wall of the chop shop. Stone glided up to the roof, passed through it and drifted down to the rafters. The men below him were bright glows of color against the gray of their surroundings.

Stone could hear the men chuckling and replaying the event that had just transpired. He called his spirits to him and ordered them to manifest in the rafters, he ordered the ones with the ability to conceal to use the power on all the spirits. He ordered the ones with the power to confuse to use it on the men in the building other than him. Stone then ordered the spirits who did stun damage when attacking to subdue the confused men. The laughter and smiles ended.

The fight was brief and one sided. The men subdued, Stone had one of the strongest spirits line the men face down on the floor with ankles crossed and hands to sides almost touching the next man in line. He left the spirits with the order to subdue any man who tried to talk or get up, along with anyone besides himself or those accompanying him who entered the building. Stone retraced the route he used when he had fled the building, came back to his meat body and easily reintegrated himself, before an inquisitive rat got up the courage to taste this latest thing to be deposited in his alley.

Stone got up, shooed the rat away and with the tinge of pain that action evoked, worked out the stiffness resulting from exerting his muscles then abruptly stopping. He made his way to the shop on foot, noticing the plant life he had overlooked in his flight but that had been such a contrast on the astral plane compared to the man made lifelessness of this world. It seemed much further than when he had been leaving, and by the time Stone eventually got there he was developing a sore on one foot. As Stone approached the building, he noticed his car wasn’t where he parked it upon arriving. He hadn’t even noticed it while on his astral visit.

Deciding to be a bit more careful this time, Stone cast his catalogue spell to try a little reconnaissance. No weapons showed up within range of the spell and Stone entered the building. The men were still on the floor much like he had left them. He walked to where a couple of them had dropped their weapons trying to bring them to bear during the brief fight. Not the easiest thing to accomplish when you were confused, trying to figure out who was attacking you (or your friends if the spirits hadn’t yet ganged up on you to put you down) when they were hard to perceive due to being concealed. Stone picked up a silenced pistol and a knife big enough to filet a behemoth, thought about where to put them and decided on a work bench for the time being.

Stone went along the work benches looking for a few items and soon found them. He walked to the nearest man, knelt with a knee in the man’s back, took the shop rag by opposite corners and spun it around in a makeshift blindfold. He fitted it over the man’s eyes, but there was hardly enough material left to tie it behind the man’s head, so Stone used the duct tape he found to hold it in place. Next, he looped duct tape around the man’s wrist, drew the man’s hands behind his back and ran several loops of tape around both wrists. Stone reversed direction where he still knelt on the man’s back, bent the man’s legs at the knees, and made a few turns of duct tape around the guy’s ankles. Stone got up and observed his work, decided to stuff a rag in the man’s mouth and ran duct tape around to hold it in place. Stone replayed the procedure on the other four men.

Wondering what guys working in a chop shop or stolen car ring were doing with so many weapons, Stone went ahead and searched all the men. Three pistols, a submachine gun and four knives later, Stone was even more confused why they were so heavily armed. One had even had a taser along with a maglock pass key. Stone pocketed both and took the other weapons over and set them on the nearby workbench. He turned up phones, pass keys for vehicles and personal credsticks on all of them, and two of them had been carrying certified credsticks, one on the first and two on the other.

Having disarmed and restrained the men, Stone retrieved his belongings then went to the table he had found the men sitting around upon his earlier visit. Stone reclaimed his possessions, partly distracted by an open Playork™ as he donned his gear. Deciding to see what his catalog spell would reveal, as well as how many items would come up unknown, Stone tried the spell. Yes, lots of unknowns Stone thought as he went through the information the spell revealed. Then he noted several credsticks. The bankroll for the place? Stone wondered. Where would someone hide a pile of credsticks? Stone asked himself as he looked around the building.

Most of one wall was devoted to workbenches. Toolboxes and tools set atop them, parts, more toolboxes and bigger tools were stashed beneath them. Near the air compressor sitting in the corner was a good selection of paint cans ranging from mere ounces to gallon sized. On the other side of the air compressor was a 100 gallon tank, Stone estimated, then an overhead, double width, garage door. On the other side of it was a man size door. Open top metal drums flanked the big door, and the small door was near the corner. A large floor fan sat just outside the arc of the small door. Cars were parked along almost the entire length of the wall. Here and there an engine hoist or a tire changing machine was interspersed, but the cars and motorcycles were parked two and three deep, almost filling the building. Along the remaining wall were a few doors.

Stone investigated and discovered a filthy bathroom and quickly closed the door. The next door opened on a room with shelves filled with car parts. Looking up, Stone saw automobile body parts hanging. The last door opened on a small office. A metal door laid across a pair of short, two drawer, filing cabinets made a makeshift desk. There were some sagging shelves lined with auto manuals and assorted crap as well as toy cars and a trophy or two. A chair with the seat ripped to shreds and the padding mostly missing flanked the desk. In front of the desk was a swivel office chair with arm rests in much more serviceable condition. On the desk was a computer and typical stuff you’d find in an office. Stone looked behind the door and found the obligatory, half nude, tool girl, calendar.

Stone tried the file cabinet drawers. The ones toward the door opened and contained paperwork. The opposite cabinet’s drawers were locked. Stone went into the main room, soon found a good size pry bar and returned. The drawers locks didn’t stand a chance. In the top drawer, Stone found the credsticks. The computer had a reader, Stone checked the amounts, whistled softly and pocketed them. Stone summoned watcher spirits as he crossed to where his car had been brought inside. Stone got in his car and locked himself in, found the address for the third car ring located in Tacoma, plotted a route and astrally projected.

As Stone cruised along through the astral, half his mind was on the credsticks he had just found. They could change his life. They could also bring on more trouble than his life was worth. If I keep them, I would be well on the way to amassing enough money to buy back the family land Stone thought. The land that had been in his family for untold generations dating back to when his distant ancestors had roamed it. Hunted it. Long before his pinkskin diluted bloodline had inherited it. Long before he, as the lone remaining heir, had lost it to his ex-wife in the uncontested divorce. If I can sell all the vehicles, I’d be even farther toward getting it back.

Which reminded him of his daughter and how nice it would be to give her the Porche Winter he had seen in the building he had just left. Stone was reminiscing about one of the few joys on his life and almost overshot the building where he was heading. Stone reconnoitered the building, decided he likely had the correct place by the abundance of automobiles and considered how he wanted to enter. Stone sent a watcher to the man nearest the door.

“Sir,” the watcher said, getting the man’s attention.

The man flinched slightly, but asked, “What?”

“My master would like to discuss business with your boss.”

The man quit what he was doing and walked to a closed door and knocked.

"What?" came from within.

“There’s a thing out here asking for his master to discuss business with you.”

“What kind of thing?”

“A magical whatchamacall it thing,” the man said.

There was a pause while the man behind the door considered, then said, “Sure.”

Stone watched it all from astral space and continued to watch the man behind the door to an office as he checked a pistol and put it beneath a folder on his desk. Stone appeared back where the man returned to the waiting watcher and relayed the reply.

For appearance, Stone decided on non-descript and veiled. He chose to manifest outside the office door wearing boots, jeans, long coat, shades and a cap pulled low. Having no way to open the door or knock, Stone said, “Knock knock.”

“Yeah, come on in,” said the voice from within.

Stone walked through the door. He had no way to open it, so he literally walked through it much like a ghost would. He startled the man behind the desk and quickly apologized. The man just as quickly recovered his composure.

“Sorry to drop in on you like this,” Stone said, “I can come back another time, but I’d like to discuss a business deal with you and not put myself at risk.” Again Stone thought.

“What kind of business deal?” the seated man asked.

“I have a few vehicles I’d like to sell, and I heard you sometimes buy without asking a lot of questions.” Stone said.

The man considered his reply. “If you are with the Star, this is clearly a case of entrapment. So I may as well take a look at what you’re offering and shoot you a price.”

“It may take me a couple of hours to get them over here,” Stone said. “Will that be ok?”

“Sure. It’ll give me time to make a couple of calls and see if Lone Star has any stings going down this afternoon.”

“Then I’ll get to it,” Stone said. “Thanks for seeing me and good-bye for now.” Bowing his head, Stone winked out of sight on the astral plane and rushed back to the chop shop where his meat bod waited.








885

This isn't dead. RL just reared it's head and I'm busy mightily smiting it.

ganbatte!

Rejoining his meat body still resting within his car, Stone considered driving his car to find people to help him deliver the building full of cars, then decided to see what vehicles were available inside the building. The Rolls Royce Phaeton would probably attract too much attention this time of day where he planned on going. If one type of limousine was overkill, then the Mitsubishi Nightsky was also eliminated. Several of the other vehicles had little to no more room than his own ride. Then Stone saw the Prairie Cat, a recreational vehicle made by Rolls Royce, and his curiosity at how it would drive vetoed any questions about it seeming out of place. Stone recalled seeing several Ford Canada Bison RVs outside runner haunts, so perhaps it wouldn’t seem too out of place after all. Stone went through keys clicking away until the Cat’s “eyes” flashed. After opening the garage style door, driving out, and closing the door behind him, Stone was finally on his way.

Stone spent a little time trying to figure out the unfamiliar autonav, then upon realizing what a pleasure it was to drive the huge machine, gave up and enjoyed the ride. He tried to remember what runner bars were in this part of town and recalled hearing something about The Hole Story. “The Hole Story,” Stone said aloud, feeling the sound of it. To Stone’s surprise a feminine voice came from the Prairie Cat telling him to turn right in 2 blocks. Stone found a heads up display projected on the lower part of the windshield showing the route to The Hole Story. He arrived in no time.

Grinning to himself upon discovering a Bison already parked in the lot, Stone got out and locked the vehicle behind him, looked around and set the security. Stone made his way into the bar, stopping just inside the door to let his eyes adjust to the dim interior. Several heads turned toward him, then went back to what they had been doing. Stone thought about orks’ natural low light vision and wondered if they could see just fine in the dimness as he went to the bar and ordered a beer. He got a soy based one, and asked the bartender if there were any riggers in today. The bartender nodded in the general direction of most of bar and Stone didn’t really catch which person the barman had indicated. All Stone’s glance told him was almost every person in the joint was of the ork persuasion.

Before the bartender could move on, Stone had him send the rigger another of whatever the rigger was drinking, tipped the barman generously for the drinks and the information, and watched to whom the drink was delivered. A male ork at the far end of the bar with what looked to be industrial strength cyberlegs received the drink from the bartender who nodded back toward Stone indicating where it came from. When the ork looked inquisitively at Stone, Stone walked to the end of the bar and took the stool next to the rigger.

“I’m not really into guys,” the ork said.

Stone suppressed a grin and asked, “Are you into making a few nuyen this afternoon?”

“Still not into guys,” the ork said, “unless you are offering way more than a few nuyen.” Now the ork cracked a tusky smile.

“No sex involved. I just need help moving some vehicles from place to place,” Stone said. “It shouldn’t take more than a few hours and no border crossings. I’m thinking around 300¥.”

“I was thinking more like 1000¥ to get my duff off this stool on my day off,” the ork said.

“Look, it’s early,” Stone said, “let’s settle at 500¥ and you can be back to reclaim your stool when the big time Mr. Johnsons come around this evening. Before you try splitting the difference on me, let me just say that there is always the chance for some bonuses if you know what you’re doing as vehicles are not my strong point.”

“Ok,” the ork said, “let’s say I agree. Is anyone likely to be shooting or chasing us as we move these vehicles?”

“No,” Stone said, “I don’t think so. I’m not asking for a getaway driver. If you want more details, we’ll have to discuss them after I know you are in.”

The rigger considered it for a moment, mostly just to seem not too anxious to accept the job. “Ok, I’m in. Let’s go to my office,” the ork said and moved to a booth in the corner of the room.

Before getting to far into the details, Stone asked if the rigger knew of anyone else that could help or at least drive a motorcycle, figuring they likely weren’t set up for remote rigger operation.

The rigger indicated another ork sitting alone at a table for two. “I saw him ride up on a bike after I got here. He looks like he needs work.”

Stone approached the table,and asked if he could join him. The ork was young and sported a blue bandana around his bicep. Stone wondered if it was a display of gang colors.

“Mind if I join you?” Stone asked.

“Sure,” the man said, even using his foot to ease the other chair away from the table for Stone to sit.

“I hear you ride. Are you looking for work?” Stone asked.

“What kind of work?”

“Moving some vehicles, some of them motorcycles. Shouldn’t take more than a few hours this afternoon. It pays 300¥,” Stone said.

“Sounds like a 1000¥ job to me, but if you are offering the same bonuses, we can settle on the same 500,” the ork biker said with a smile. “And I’m not into guys either.”

Stone sort of liked these two guys. “Then want to join us in his office?”

i like snark.

They reached the chop shop with no more incident than Stone being distracted by one of the orks unpleasant odor. Stone kept trying to put his finger on what it smelled like but each time he thought he had put his finger on it, he realized that wasn’t quite it. Trying to put the odor mystery aside, Stone approached the building and tried to recall exactly what his orders had been to his spirits. Not wanting to cause a catastrophe by having his new recruits attacked by the spirits he left guarding the place, Stone burned a service and asked one of them to restate his last command.

The called upon spirit said, “Subdue any man who tried to talk or get up, along with anyone besides himself or those accompanying him who entered the building.” Deciding to not risk a mistake if any of those accompanying him talked, Stone relieved the spirits of their last task then led the group into the building. One of those behind Stone let out a low whistle upon seeing the crammed interior, and Stone wondered if it was hard for orks to whistle with tusks jutting from their lower jaw.

Some of the group Bruiser had brought along recognized the chop shop crew and said as much as they strolled past where the bound men. As Smelly passed by the bound man who had earlier wanted to kill Stone, the bound man tried ranting past the rag jammed in his mouth. Stone wasn’t sure but it sounded something like he knew who they were and he would kill them all. Did he recognize them from the little snips they said or does he recognize Smelly’s scent?

Stone listened as Skids said, “I’ll get busy and make sure all the tracking devices are disabled, then see how many are rigger ready and prepare them for remote operation.”

As Stone said, “Can the ones with autonav be programmed...,” Smelly picked up the silenced pistol from the work bench and calmly stepped over to the still ranting man lying bound on the floor and double tapped him with two shots to the back of the head.

“What the...!” Stone started to say, then thought what a turn of events. The guy says I need to be killed, I somehow get out of being killed, I’m in the process of taking quite a few possessions from the entire group which would have been avoided by killing me. The guy who had the foresight to avert the retribution now finds himself dead, which would not have happened if he had went ahead and killed me. Maybe I should go ahead and kill them all while I have the opportunity? No. No one needed to die over the situation. The guy brought it on himself by making threats. Especially making threats of payback while he was at the mercy of those he threatened. In a way, he was asking for it. Now I’m an accessory to a murder. I suppose if it comes back to me I could explain how I wasn’t in a position to stop it and might have been the next one to take a dirt nap. Of course, they’ll likely point out I was the one who had put the dead guy in that position in the first place. Stone said, “You can keep that gun, but I’d appreciate it if you ask me if you can kill anyone else before just doing it.”

Skids continued almost like nothing had happened. Or He’d like me to believe he isn’t fazed by this Stone thought.

“Yes, we can program those with autonav to go to a location. I’ll assign as many of the rigged ones to my control deck as I have room for, then we can program any with autonav but lacking rigger controls. We can also load as many as possible into the vehicles, like some of the bikes and especially all these drones. I’m kind of surprised all these are still in one piece instead of disassembled.”

“I wasn’t that worried about the drones,” Stone said.

Skids eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really,” he said, “there are some of them way more valuable than the bikes and a few of the cars.”

Now it was Stone’s turn to be surprised. “Really,” he said, “I didn’t know they were that valuable. Or are some of the bikes not worth that much?”

“Lucky you ran into me,” Skids said, thinking if I weren’t such an honest guy, or had thought a bit quicker, I’d have said they weren’t worth much and then come back here and loaded them up for myself. “Actually, if you want to just give me that one,” Skids motioned to a Steel Lynx, “I’ll take it instead of the cash and any bonus you wanted to throw in.”

Stone shrugged and said, “Sounds fine to me. Looks like you’ve already started earning the bonus by pointing out the drones are more valuable than I realized.”

Having made his way over to the table the men had been sitting around when Stone had originally gotten to the chop shop, Bruiser raised the Playork® and said, “Check this out.”

One of his recruits said, “I’ve already seen that issue. She’s all right, but I’ve seen better centerfolds.”

“That’s not what I was referring to,” Bruiser said. “There’s an entire list of vehicles here,” he said indicating writing in the margin down most of the length of the fold out centerfold. He looked around. “It looks like they have about three fourths of everything on this list. Any idea who they were assembling the collection for? If we knew, we might have a ready made buyer and likely at better prices than if you need to fence them yourself.”

“You might look in the office and see if you can find anything about the buyer. Or check the cell phones,” Stone said. “I guess if we wanted, we could put the question to the guys on the floor.”

They learned who the buyer was.

They got busy. Skids prepared the vehicles, checking to see if the tracking was disabled on all of the vehicles, and subscribing the ones with rigger remote controls to his deck. Bruiser and his guys manhandled the drones into any vehicle with the space to carry one and loaded most of the bikes into the bigger capacity vehicles. They also searched through the vehicles for any contents. One of the ork gangers was bragging, giving a running tally of the loose change he was finding under the seats.

As they searched the vehicles, Bruiser asked, “How did you come up with the plan to hit the chop shop?”

Stone wondered if he should tell and decided it probably didn’t matter. “I didn’t really plan it. I came into a few vehicles last night after a bit of a ruckus and got a lead about a few places to unload them. This one was one of the closest. When I got here, they decided they didn’t like me and took everything I had including arms and armor. That sort of pissed me off. So I came back to get my stuff and decided to make it worth my while.”

Bruiser looked at Stone in an entirely new light.

The vehicles formerly belonging to the men now on the floor contained a trove of articles useful to Skids. Stone had little to no clue outside of the weapons what most of them were, but when Bruiser had Skids come over to check them out he looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

“This will make things a lot simpler and speed it all up,” Skids said as he collected the morphing license plates clearly marked with the same color tape and alphanumeric code as some small chip cases, which Skids guessed, and upon a bit of investigation verified, were transponder libraries. One of the cars contained a remote control deck. Skids checked the deck, found two vehicles and two drones already linked to it and smiled as his work got that much easier. Skids took the morphing plates and Stone, went to the most valuable vehicles and had Stone fasten them in place as he connected the corresponding transponder to the vehicle circuitry.

When they got to the Bell Red Ranger hovercraft, Skids said, “I’m not too sure about driving this thing through the streets of Seattle. It’s not really got any brakes and I don’t have much experience piloting hovercraft.”

“Then let’s leave it,” Stone said.

Skids thought about doing just that and coming back later to pick it up for himself but decided to play it straight with his new, even if only temporary, boss. “ Probably not a bad idea, but these things are worth quite a bit of nuyen. Maybe we can get it loaded on the shops rollback. It will be tricky. I don’t really want to fly it up on the thing as it probably needs a little run to get momentum to climb the incline, and then there is getting it stopped before it plows on into the back of the cab. And I’m not sure we can ease it up on it as the skirts will probably lose contact, and when that happens lift, at the point between the ground and the inclined of the rollback bed. That same problem comes up if we let the craft hover and try to winch it on.”

Skids looked the rollback truck over a bit closer and found a pair of dollies. He got a couple of the orks to manhandle the dollies, had Stone get in the Red Ranger and set it to hover, then helped the orks position the dollies under the back of it, attached the winch cable to the front mooring cleat usually used to tie it off when on water, and winched it up toward the rollback bed. When the nose cleared the bed, he positioned the stoutest mechanics creeper in the place under the nose then continued to winch it onto the bed. As the nose lifted, the skirts eventually lost contact with the ground when the Ranger was about halfway loaded and started hopping up and down as the craft settled as the contact was broken then lifted again as it lowered and re-established contact. The hops got smaller as the gap increased until the Ranger wouldn’t levitate any more. Stone shut the craft off and got out. With as many orks pushing the Ranger as could find a spot to push, Skids carefully winched the craft forward, not wanting to tear the cleat from the craft. When the rear of the Ranger made its way onto the rollback, Skids raised the bed back into a horizontal position, Stone got back in and hovered the craft and Skids winched it into place. They left the dollies in place for when it came time to unload, Stone shut it down and climbed out and down.

When it was time to program the autonavs, Stone gave the Tacoma address.

Skids registered recognition of the address. “You know Teflon Joey?” he asked.

good haul O.o

They got busy. Skids prepared the vehicles, checking to see if the tracking was disabled on all of the vehicles, and subscribing the ones with rigger remote controls to his deck. Bruiser and his guys loaded most of the bikes into the bigger vehicles and manually moved the drones into any available space in any of the vehicles. They also searched through the vehicles for loot. One of the ork gangers was bragging, giving a running tally of the loose change he was finding under the seats.

As they searched the vehicles, Bruiser asked, “How did you come up with the plan to hit the chop shop?”

Stone wondered if he should tell and decided it probably didn’t matter. “I didn’t really plan it. I came into a few vehicles last night after a bit of a ruckus and got a lead about a few places to unload them. This one was one of the closest. When I got here, they decided they didn’t like me and took everything I had including arms and armor. That sort of pissed me off. So I came back to get my stuff and decided to make it worth my while.”

Bruiser looked at Stone in an entirely new light.

The vehicles formerly belonging to the men now on the floor contained a trove of articles useful to Skids. Stone had little to no clue outside of the weapons what most of them were, but when Bruiser had Skids come over to check them out he looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

“This will make things a lot simpler and speed it all up,” Skids said as he collected the morphing license plates clearly marked with the same color tape and alphanumeric code as some small chip cases, which Skids guessed, and upon a bit of investigation verified, were transponder libraries. One of the cars contained a remote control deck. Skids checked the deck, found two vehicles and two drones already linked to it and smiled as his work got that much easier. Skids took the morphing plates and Stone, went to the most valuable vehicles and had Stone fasten them in place as he connected the corresponding transponder to the vehicle circuitry.

When they got to the Bell Red Ranger hovercraft, Skids said, “I’m not to sure about driving this thing through the streets of Seattle. It’s not really got any brakes and I don’t have much experience piloting hovercraft.”

“Then let’s leave it,” Stone said thinking this was taking forever. Then thought again as he considered the potential payoff and how long it would take him to make that kind of nuyen and the risks he would take along the way.

Skids thought leaving the hovercraft and coming back later to pick it up for himself but decided to play it straight with his new, even if only temporary, boss. “Probably not a bad idea, but these things are worth quite a bit of nuyen. Maybe we can get it loaded on the shops rollback. It will be tricky. I don’t really want to fly it up on the thing as it probably needs a little run to get momentum to climb the incline, and then there is getting it stopped before it plows on into the back of the cab. And I’m not sure we can ease it up on it as the skirts will probably lose contact, and when that happens lift, at the point between the ground and the inclined of the rollback bed. That same problem comes up if we let the craft hover and try to winch it on.”

Skids looked the rollback truck over a bit closer and found a pair of dollies. He got a couple of the orks to manhandle the dollies, had Stone get in the Red Ranger and set it to hover, then helped the orks position the dollies under the back of it, attached the winch cable to the front mooring cleat usually used to tie it off when on water, and winched it up toward the rollback bed. When the nose cleared the bed, he positioned the stoutest mechanics creeper in the place under the nose then continued to winch it onto the bed. As the nose lifted, the skirts eventually lost contact with the ground when the Ranger was about halfway loaded and started hopping up and down as the craft settled as the contact was broken then lifted again as it lowered and re-established contact. The hops got smaller as the gap increased until the Ranger wouldn’t levitate any more. Stone shut the craft off and got out. With as many orks pushing the Ranger as could find a spot to push, Skids carefully winched the craft forward, not wanting to tear the cleat from the craft. When the rear of the Ranger made its way onto the rollback, Skids raised the bed back into a horizontal position, Stone got back in and hovered the craft and Skids winched it into place. They left the dollies in place for when it came time to unload, Stone shut it down and climbed out and down.

One of the watchers Stone had put on patrol outside the building alerted him. “Got some visitor approaching.”

Just what we need Stone thought. I knew this was taking forever.

A knock sounded on the man size door. Stone and Skids looked at each other.

“I’ll see what it is,” Skids offered. Stone let him.

Skids went outside and came back in a few moments later.

Grinning, Skids asked Stone, “Want to buy a car?”

“I think we have enough as it is,” Stone said, playing the straight man and seeing where this was going.

“Oh, but this is a car missing from our grocery list of cars. If we buy it, the worst we should do is break even. And buying it and sending the guy on his way may avoid raising any alarms. The guy said something about it being one of the ones he was to keep an eye out for.”

Stone asked how much, got an answer, went to the credsticks he’d found, rummaged through and found one with the amount he needed and passed it over to Skids. Skids completed the purchase and the visitor left.

“Can we get going before anyone else drops in?” Stone asked.

“Let me program the autonavs,” Skids said. Stone gave the Tacoma address.

Skids recognized the address. “You know Teflon Joey?” he asked.

“Not really,” Stone said. “I just got a tip he was in the business, and stopped by astrally to see if he was interested. He said to come on by. Or I guess it was him. It was the guy in charge.”

“If you don’t mind,” Skids said, “I can do the talking. I’ve dealt with him before and kind of have a feel for the guy. I know they hate these guys, so probably don’t have a problem with where the stuff came from. I can handle the whole transaction if you want.”

Stone didn’t take long to consider the offer. “Sounds good to me. Are we going to tell them about the buyers already lined up for the consignment?”

“We may as well,” Skids said. “If the vehicles bring the prices listed in the mag, and we asked for half of that, we would be getting more than they usually bring on spec.”

“Why not just contact the buyers directly and make the sale?” Stone asked.

“We could,” Skids said, “but that means holding on to what vehicles are already here and then acquiring the rest of the ones on the list. If we offer up only the ones we have, they are going to wonder why we have them and not the fellows on the floor. So then you have to decide what to do with the fellows on the floor while assembling the rest of the order. If you thought what we did so far was tough, moving and keeping these,” Skids indicated the surrounding vehicles, “and dealing with the fellows on the floor, then acquiring the remainder of the vehicles in a timely manner without the expertise to do so is going to seem like a huge task. I’m not saying it can’t be done, but I don’t think you are the guy to do it. Teflon Joey is. Besides, if we can get half of the prices on the list, you are going to be ahead of what you would have gotten just selling them to Joey in the first place.”

Stone didn’t think about it too long. This had already turned into a much more complicated endeavor than he had anticipated. To think it all started with trying to sell a couple bikes and a van. Now it was stealing a building full of stolen vehicles and a murder. He was just wanting it to get it finished. “You are more than welcome to negotiate the deal with Joey,” Stone said.

“Ok. Then I’d also like to program the autonavs to go to within a few blocks or so of Joey’s shop. If we show up with a ton of stuff, he may start thinking volume discount. When we have a ballpark figure we agree on, or if he is interested in completing the list, we can always call and set the ‘nav to bring them on in,” Skids said.

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