Sudbury Saturday Night
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Sudbury Saturday Night
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“I could do other things but they tend to get in the way of my searches and there’s always the symbiosis to consider. Working bars, diners and gigging is a good cover and let’s me be mobile. Works great if I’m investigating, food and booze loosens tongues” she smiled “I’ve been doing it since I was 12 nearly 5 years I do OK with it”
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“That’s all fine and dandy, but I prefer to sleep only where I have true and proven chummers around me. Luckily, Al seems to know all of you and – for some inexplicable reason – I trust him.
So if Al can vouch for you I’m inclined to accept the invitation, but all in all I have no problem sleeping in my car. It’s what I did on my way here. One more night won’t be a problem – unless I run out of body cleaner wipes.”
Kynos replied with his typical monotone cadence.
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[Friday January 20, 2079; Peddlar’s Pub & Axe Throwing Lounge, Sudbury]
Her first inclination had been to ask for a lift with Al but the offer from Batshit, plus the reminder of Al’s uniquely pungent odour of cigarettes and unwashed male, made her change her mind.
“I came airmail… mind if I catch a lift with you? I’m Lily by the way…”
#05
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She is practically a kid, Rebbeca realizes. Fine, not like there are decent hotels in this hellhole. Do you need a ride?
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“Al! Tell him.!” Batshit bellowed like a nagging teenager “it’ll be fine might have to sleep on the floor or something but it’ll be warmer than the car and certainly longer”
“hi Lilly I’m Bronwean but I’m sure ya’ll be calling me Batshit soon enough. Why don’t you hop in while I tell everyone where we are going to”
Lilly climbed up in to the cab of an obviously cared for, if well used, truck. She settled down in the massive bucket seat and strapped in.
Having finished talking to the drivers, Bronwean climbed in to her seat. She flicked her finger and the engine fired up and she stamped on the gas and they shot off in to traffic.
“blinkers asshole! ” as she wove her way through the traffic at speed.
“anyway you know Al long? Learn to drive grandma!”
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Bronwean calmed her driving down suddenly and took a sharp right. Then a left then four rights in a row.
“cools all clear let’s go home”
She drove a winding route to the container-ville.
“OK, here it is home sweet home” she announced as they pulled up to the neat stack of converted shipping containers.
She backed her truck up to a set of doors.
“they hire these out to technicians, so there’s a work space at the front” she pulled bag after her as she climbed down. “we going to need to pick up your gear or we need get you some?”
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[Friday January 20, 2079; Batshit’s Truck, Somewhere in Sudbury]
Settling herself in the bucket seat she smoothly flowed with the motion of the vehicle despite Batshit’s erratic driving
“I haven’t known Al long, perhaps three months or so? We did some work together, somewhere much much warmer than this.” Pulling one of her gloves off she presented her metallic hand to Batshit “of course I’m lucky that I don’t really feel extremes of temperature… not that they won’t affect me, I just don’t suffer any real ill effects until they overwhelm my cybernetic systems.
Say, do you like Green River Burning’s new track? I’ve heard people on the forums saying they’ve sold out but it still sounds great to me…!”
She suppressed a giggle, hardly dignified, but riding with Batshit certainly beat listening to Al’s taste in music, if it could be called that…
“You said you’re what, seventeen? How did you manage to get a job behind a bar? More importantly how did you manage to fall in to shadowrunning? Shouldn’t you be in school? Of course the same could be said for me but as I only remember the last couple of years of my life I’ve got an excuse!”
She grinned at the other girl to show that she wasn’t really prying… there was something about this one that just made her want to talk, it was like that with Becky but this was worse as she wasn’t as intimidating as Becky…
#06
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“school, ha ha ha. I did be there was this attack on the compound where me and my sisters lived. We got scattered. So I’m looking for them.” she flicked the air somemore and music flared up from big speakers “That why I can’t be tied down” suddenly she looked intensely sad. “I’ve been dodging on and off greyhounds for 5 years, following up leads, spend all my money on hackers to generate leads. Have to be careful but I have impulse control issues. I think I’m gene Taylored to be aggressive and fearless. I such an adrenaline junkie it’s unreal. “
She horsed the truck round a corner
” I’ve been dodging people following me for so long I have a hard time. Telling people how I do it. But I’m real situationaly aware. I can skate board backwards though a crowd and not hit people. And I can walk through a building once a know it which is handy. And people like me they believe the best about me. If I’m old enough to work in a bar I’m old enough. Bet I got you bet you really wanna be my beastie. If I told you Lowrez skyline are the best, which they are by the way, you will suddenly want to like them. that Got me into being an investigator and that got me in touch with a situation. It all got sorted we got the children safe but I got shot three times. People took note. Names get passed around ” she smiled at her at the traffic lights, big devastating eyes” your turn, spill”
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Kynos had looked expectantly at Al for an answer, but before the scruffy runner had had a chance to reply, the hyper active dryad and the mech had already withdrawn.
Kynos shrugged internally. He couldn’t imagine that he would have enjoyed spending the night at a place populated with a hyper active teenager.
“Here is my contact info. I’ll meet you at the coordinates for the meeting tomorrow.”
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Rebbeca copies his contact info and shares hers. “So quiet now that she is gone, isn’t it?” she comments and then walks toward Al and says “How about a couple of extra drinks before we enter the teenage layer? You can join aswell Kynos, would be interesting to learn how you know Al.”
Rebbeca is wearing a designer cloak, and underneath it what appears to be high quality and well-insulated uniform. Her’s do not have the markings of any specific cooperate, but they are of the same quality, she carries a small crossbow on her belt but is otherwise unharmed.
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Kynos shrugged: “Thanks, I’ll stay with Soycaf, but I don’t mind giving you a few credentials if we work together.
I originally met Al during a subcontractor job for Firewatch. Bug hunt gone wrong. Our Firewatch handlers got betrayed and we had to pull them out. Complete Anarchy.
We met again one or two years later during a job in Chinatown Seattle. Helped one faction gain dominance. Pay and benefits were good, but I think we both got bored once we had to stop shooting scumbags.
How about you, where did you meet Al?”
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“I met him at my very first paying gig, it was an extraction. I was young, stupid, bossy, and arrogant. He tolerated me and allowed me to plan, and try to get people working together, we got the job done. Though the hard part was the friction between us, too many people thinking that they know it all. Too many egos wanting to lead. I tuned myself down since then, thinking with your ego is a weakness of character. I mostly adapt myself to the strange ethics and believes of the teammates now. Less friction that way. “
She pauses and suppresses a now painful memory of returning home to her lover afterward. Back when they were tight. I met Al again several months ago, and since then we somehow continue meeting each other once every few months.
“This occasion is especially strange, I selected a destination at random to lay low and be forgotten. I haven’t disclosed my plans with anyone, and I am wifi-dark, most of the time. I Check my hardware for marks twice a day, and yet, here come Al’s merry bunch.“
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Kynos frowned: “So you weren’t here because of a previous job, but to lay low?
I’m here because I took the coin of a oil exploration expedition. Shit outfit, but it got me away from and out of sight of a bunch of very angry people. So getting paid work as a follow-up in this godforsaken region wasn’t a given. And finding specialists with the right skill set out here is bound to draw a few known faces.
In any case this could turn out pretty interesting – especially when parts of the team aggravate others to the point of violence…”
Kynos added sarcastically with just a hint of honesty.
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Rebbeca sighs “My lover got assassinated, asshole was the only one that had leverage over me. So I decided to disappear, not that I mind making getting paid while I endure this hellhole. The equipment to survive here is expensive, and if we get too much attention… well there are many miserable places in the world.
She pauses and says “Don’t kill Bronwean – I owe her for getting me home from the Fae realms. The punk stole an artifact from an arrogant mage, and I had to run after her and make sure she survives the aftershock.”
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Seated at the rickety table with Kynos and Becky, Al had been content to listen and drink. His eyelids were heavy, but the sounds of the axe throwing competition that had resumed in the adjoining room were warring with his desire to try and sleep.
Then Becky said something that roused him from his muddled introspections. She’d gone on to another topic before he got his tongue to work, but he finally joined in the conversation. “Yeah, don’t kill Bronwean. She’d be dead, an’ you’d be hurt, an’ that ain’t gon’ git the job done.” He tossed that off as an afterthought, then said what he really wanted to say.
“Sheee-it, Precious, pains ol’ Al ta hear it. Won’t pretend to have ever fathomed the complexities o’ that relationship, nor ever even knowed much o’ the details, but I do know the assho…er…the guy meant a lot to ya, an’ ya got my heartfelt condolences.”
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“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry. If I couldn’t work around aggravating co-workers, I wouldn’t be here.”
Kynos actually raised an eyebrow at Rebecca’s story: “So, you are punishing yourself, because a guy you had a toxic relationship with croaked? I guess that explains why you are so buff. Lot’s of motivation to keep training.”
He took another gulp of his now rather cool soycaf.
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Saturday morning dawned clear and cold. The team had been scraping frost off their vehicles before the sun cleared the horizon — although how the dry air had managed to squeeze out a layer of frost was anyone’s guess — and were rolling out of the core of the city as it got somewhat brighter.
As soon as they were away form the downtown the streets were lined with waist high snowbanks that narrowed the lanes, but when they made it out to the highway the clearing was better. Then they turned off onto the county road toward their destination and only the wheel ruts were all the way clear of snow, with the road dusted with sand to provide some grip on the hard packed snow.
Their destination was not too hard to find: house right before the bridge? Check. Black dog the size of a pony standing on the snow without sinking into it? Check. A pure feeling in the air that was rare to find? Check. It seemed like the right house.
It was built log-cabin style, but about 12 metres to a side, with good sized windows, and the wood was bright and new looking. By the time the team had parked, the dog had turned into a short, bald, man — equally as black all over as the dog had been, it’s black eyes being the most disturbing part. He didn’t say anything, but waved them towards the closed in porch.
Inside the house it was almost shockingly warm, and they could see the heat rising from an old fashioned wood stove in the first room they entered. The spirit gave a pointed look towards their boots and gave them time to politely take them off if they so choose, then led the way into another room. In there a wizened man lay on a couch, pulled close to another wood stove.
The old man called out in a weak voice “Come in, come in. Sirius, could you boil up some coffee? Or would anyone rather peppermint tea? Or just hot water? Something warm anyway …” he fades near the end of that, then seems to gather himself together. “You must be the ass-kickers I ordered. And lovely ass-kickers some of you are — if I was still ninety I’d take more time to sweet talk a couple of you. I’m Kris, I’m dying, and I want some things taken care of before I do, so I’m going to rudely charge ahead.”
“The twins told you about the toxic mage, right? Neighbour over that way” he waves his hand in the general direction of the bay the team had seen on their way in, “Made a mess years back, has kept making it worse, and when I went to look last week I was ambushed by toxic spirits, so it seems he’s finally made his final choice. I don’t imagine putting him down will be terribly enjoyable but it has to be done — and I don’t want him contaminating my land. After that I have a nephew of some degree or other who needs finding, but first any questions about this part?”
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Back at the bar, she sighs as the pale elf “figures her out.”
Training brings me the clarity to think before I act. To Al she said For good or for ill, he was there when I matured and was very sick. I was just a trophy for him until my novelty wore off and he started caring enough to let me go free.
She does not speak of the matter, and while her voice carries a depth of emotion. She drinks a bit which is out of character for her, and then tosses the axes with convincing accuracy. Finally, she leaves for Bronwean in her red Gopher truck. Most notable, the Gopher features a large cargo inside which is a drone rack containing a large rotor drone for medical evacuation. She enters the apartment, carrying a few blankets from her car, and finds a place to crash.
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At the meet, Rebbeca comes wearing the designer cloak, and the same underlying insulated armor. She also brings a beautiful Katana on her heap and her high tech bow on the back. Not that she thinks she’ll need them, but they deliver the right message. She listens intently, and then asks Do you have a reasonable way to pay for the demise of your enemy? We will also need some collaterals since you are close to your deathbed, and we do not do get along with lawyers.
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Kynos listened and nodded at Rebecca’s words: “Tangling with Toxics isn’t cheap because it’s fragging dangerous. Our team has the necessary capabilities, but do you have the necessary coin to pay for us?
If do have the money, I want to know the scope of this mission. Are we supposed to geek just one toxic mage or are we talking about a whole cabal that we have to separate into lost causes ready for the slaughter and lost lambs that just need to be taught a lesson to better their ways.
Just so you know, option 2 is more expensive.”
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[Friday January 20, 2079; Batshit’s Place, Somewhere near Sudbury]
Although there were noticeable differences between Batshit’s story and her own there were some scary similarities too… perhaps it was the nature of the shadows to attract the misfits that couldn’t function in normal society
“I guess you could say I woke up somewhere, maybe three years ago… it was a bad place, I knew it even though I couldn’t remember anything else. I busted my way out and eventually wound up with the Mechanica… they’re a group in the Squeeze, in London? Anyway, things were a little too hot close to where I escaped so they sent me to the Mechanicals in Seattle. They allowed me to crash there while I tried to find something, anything, out about myself. What I found was that whoever was hunting me hadn’t stopped just because I crossed the Atlantic and most of the UCAS. So here I am, sort of. That’s the short version anyway…”
[Saturday January 21, 2079; Log Cabin, Somewhere near Sudbury]
Lily listened to the old man’s pitch with some sympathy. She would be the first to admit she didn’t really know much about magic but she’d seen enough, no doubt sensationalised, trid on toxics to know they were bad news for everyone, including themselves. But as ever she was content to sit and listen and let those she trusted with far more experience than her conduct the negotiations… well she trusted Al’s sense of honour anyway to take the narrow path. Becky was mercenary through and through and she suspected this Kynos might be too. Batshit, well it was too early to tell…
#07
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