R4 awoke to an alarm on her phone. As she dismissed it a pop up appeared
[[50 aptitude exp distributed. 60 general exp remaining
Aptitude
4
Driving: 0->1X
Medicine: 1X+1->1X+2
Pickpocket: 0->1X
Security: 2X
Technology: 2X->2X+1
Note: increasing from T0 to T1 costs 1000 exp. Transitioning from T0 to T1 will increase all further attribute costs.
Estimated Lifespan: 364 days.]]
E4 eyed the pop up and immediately shot a text. “Red Queen, I received a pop up that states I can tier up via experience. How does that work?”
The response was immediate. “You have a bit over 300 days to accumulate 1000 exp. Designated exp, such as aptitude or force exp, can be converted to general exp at a 3:1 ratio in 30 exp increments. Utilizing this method places a strain on the mind and body. See attached file. Gigs may be sorted by exp. Exp can also be generated, but in a far less efficient way.” A link opened and E4 saw a set of bars for each of the FRAME attributes, as well as an overall bar. She grimaced at how the bar only went up to 50. “Advancing skills costs 10 per current level, attributes cost 100 per current level. As you are currently T0 it is not as expensive, costing 100 flat. You cannot exceed 5, which is the human maximum, in any attribute.”
R4 perked up, and quickly found a job. “So you’re saying the job I was offered yesterday to gather plant samples would give me enough exp to reach human maximum with a bit left over?”
“No, each attribute and skill is divided into three parts.” A picture of a six sided die appeared. R4 was immediately aware that it was made from tier 4 human bone, and that the scratch marks and etchings had been made by something stronger. “Initially you have a chance at whatever you do.” The die rolled, getting a 4. “As you learn you improve on that,” a square with two dots on it appeared above the 3 dimensional die before the die was rolled, getting a 3, but 2 were added making it a 5, “So even when the odds are stacked against you, you may do better.” The die rolled, getting a 1 for a 3. Then the flat die rose up to reveal it was in fact a second die. Both die rolled, and landed on a 1. “As skills grow, confidence does too, leading to the possibility of even worse failures,” The dice rolled again, getting 12, “Or miraculous success.”
“Seems a bit random.” R4 commented but did not type.
“It is mere denotation, an explanation to allow fragile flesh to better understand its limits and how they may be overcome. Humans have rolled the bones since there were bones to roll.”
A quick shower and R4 quickly picked out her dress for the day. A black undershirt with an orange vest and a brown skirt with shorts beneath seemed an appropriate outfit for meeting new people. Of course she had her carry all, a bright orange bag made from Kevlar, by her side. She eyed it for a moment, specifically the slightly brighter orange patch emblazoned with two wrenches crossed over a radio tower. “Nu’Grav survival tip. Show your colors. Other gangs and clans will realize you are not alone and think twice about attacking you.” Running her hand through her hair R4 felt a sense of loss as she felt only the fuzz of what the Dimdwell left behind. Once she had long red hair, yet despite her hair coming back unusually fast it was still far from what she had.
“I guess it is safer this way, won’t get caught in anythin’.” R4 mused, running her hands through what was once her hair again, and finding a small nub. She felt it again, finding she could feel it with her hands but the growth could also feel her hands touching it. “Am I getting cancer from swimming in radioactive water or…” She rushed into the bathroom and peered into the mirror, which had been pretty badly cracked by someone. She tried to peer at it, yet her eyes couldn’t quite see it. “No.” The nubs appeared to be right behind her ears, hard and devoid of flesh. She quickly took out her camera and went back to the image of Rat face. Multi-sectioned horns, which stemmed from primary horns. She couldn’t see exactly where they started, but they were definitely close to his ears. “No no no no no no no,” A moment later she felt her limbs drop limp and her eyes close. “Red Queen, why am I growing horns?”
“This will be your last question.” E4 opened her mouth to speak but stopped. She looked back in the broken mirror and adjusted her hair to hide the new horns. “Good girl. You have a busy day today. I have a few gigs for you while you are out.”
R4 quickly found her way from the gym to the Tram station. In the light of day she could see it was just the first layer of a stack of T1 steel and concrete boxes. There was a simple, non-neon, sign showing was it was with the logo of Nu’Grav. Outside vendors with mobile stands were hawking this and that. Her stomach growled as she passed by a nearby vendor selling pancake sausages on a stick. “No, that’s probably not healthy.” She grumbled. “Tasty though.” Still hungry she walked through a digital turn style and waited for the next monorail, which arrived only 5 minutes late.
At the next stop a group of men in black coats got on. R4 noticed they were wearing smog masks, but they lacked the filters. One turned to approach her, but another stopped him. As the second acted R4 noticed the firearm shoved into the waist band of his sweatpants.
[[Lok-1 weather proof series. Be it raining water, acid, or blood leave the great outdoors outdoors.]] R4 casually drew her largest wrench and casually held it in a non-threatening way, but in a way it could be clearly seen. One of the men saw her and nudged another.
“You a Tech?” one of the men asked. R4 eyed him before nodding. “Orange and black, Hey Phi, who wears orange and black?”
“The Halloween Gonks, but she’s not in costume and I don’t see any pumpkins. Must be the off season.” He paused, “or are the pacts not being agreed upon?”
“I have no idea what you’re on about, is this a gang thing?” R4 asked, lowering her wrench so the crest on her bag was visible.
“She’s remote, fresh blood too. Low stakes, but no bounty.” Phi announced, his eye blurring. “Not worth a T.”
“Pretty though.” The other man said. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing this early in the day?” R4 couldn’t see his face, but she thought she heard a grin in his voice. “And no gang backing you, what a shame. No one to care if someone were to come up and snatch you right off the street. Shame there’s no one to introduce you,” he paused but R4 spoke.
“Except for you, I take it y’er group is looking for a new tech?” R4 asked.
“Hey, Aleph, what’s that about needing a new tech?” Another gang member, this one wearing a gas mask with a wrench etched into it. “You planning to off me?”
“Chill Rho, I’m not looking to replace you.” He shook his head before turning back to R4. “I think you know what I mean.”
“Are ya’ sure, ‘cause from the sounds comin’ from y’er mouth it looks like y’all need some percussive maintenance.” Aleph and Phi both paused, processing what she said.
“You,” Aleph started, before Phi started to chuckle. “Phi, what the rust choom?” He reached into his pocket and R4 readied her wrench to knock whatever it was from his hand, but he drew a phone rather than a gun. As R4 processed what she was seeing he took her picture.
“What the Sev’n? Y’all take pics before a fight? Ya’ post before an’ after pics?” R4 drew her own phone and did the same as Aleph hit something on his phone. “Not as effective with th’ mask. Guess a broken up mask’ll be a good after pic. So y’all go ta’ first blood, no holds back, how y’all do this?”
“Look familiar?” He asked, turning his phone around, revealing a picture of her former apartment.
“I mean, I used ta’ live there. Landlord was a creep, tried sellin’ a bunch a’ tennants ta’ th’ dimdwell.” R4 replied, shooting him a confused look. Out of the corner of her eye she saw several of the other gangsters flinch at her words. “What’s yer’ point?”
Phi snapped his fingers. “That’s where I know you from, this is that girl from the snuff film, the one with the weird rat guy.”
“Wait, that was real? Thought it was CG.” Another gangster commented. “How’d you get away from that rat guy?”
“It wasn’t easy, had to pick a lock above my head, good thing Dimdwell don’t use good locks.”
“Lo, stop.” Aleph sighed. He shot a glare at R4. “I’ll let you go this time, but watch your back.”
“Nice meeting ya’.” R4 replied with an air headed smile, even as she released the claw in her off hand she had readied to cut the man’s throat if he came after her. She leaned against one of the seats, which dinged at her for not having a ticket to sit. She eyed the price, 10 credits. She considered it, then continued to stand.
The gang got off before she did, and a stop later another gang with black and green colors got on. This one favored Mohawks and spiky hair over gas masks. One approached R4, but decided better as she gripped her wrench. Another asked her to look at his firearm, which she quickly diagnosed as being a shoddy piece of plastic with the safety being melted in the on position. She fixed it with a minute’s work. Finally she reached her destination and bid her would be client goodbye.
Sunshine street, R4 shook her head at the name. The tram had dropped her off in what might have once been a sunny part of town, before an entire tier of city was built over it. Now the only lights were neon, and the sparse street lights that lit the walkways and streets. As R4 stepped forwards she noticed only one in three were actually functioning. The air smelled of smoke and exhaust, likely due to the overhead fans not working. R4 could see a few spinning, but not many. She quickly noticed a person creeping up on one, before shaking a can and spraying the non-functional fan with yellow glowing paint. As the artist worked R4 noticed they weren’t just painting a name, they were painting a yellow and white fish, one on each blade of the fan.
“Nope.” She muttered, slapping a pickpocket away from her bag without averting her eyes. She heard the pickpocket run off as she watched the painter work. She eyed her phone, then shot a look back at the artist. “I really should find these sunflowers.”
R4 found that her new eye had no issue seeing through the dark, though her human eye could not keep up. Closing one eye R4 walked as quickly as she could towards the address. As she arrived R4 saw the address was actually an alley. As she approached she noticed chalk drawings, a garden of flowers against the metal and concrete. She saw no children who could have drawn them, and to her eyes they looked gray and barely visible against their background.
“Is this the right place?” R4 asked, stepping into the alley. She eyed each of the buildings, looking for a door. There was a door that led to the building on the left, but it was locked and had no external lock for her to pick. R4 closed her eyes and reached inside with her telekinesis. It was difficult, the door’s dense material hindering her process. She just barely felt the crash bar before it moved, and the door flew open right into her face.
“Ow!” R4 exclaimed, stumbling back. “What in tarnation?”
“Hey, what are you doing back here ya’ gonk?”
“I think you busted my nose.” R4 muttered, even as she got a pop up stating exactly that. “Is this The Sunflowers?”
“No, we’re a noodle shop, and you’re in the way.” R4 watched as a short woman with oversize metal hands lugged a huge bag behind her. Aside from the small glowing lights on her hands and the oversized watch built into them, all R4 could tell was she was short and she appeared to wear a white apron and a yellow jacket with a holographic symbol of a skull on it. swinging it over her head towards the dumpster, just in time to realize the dumpster was still closed. “F***!” She ran over towards the dumpster, and the door slammed behind her. “Oh fer’ th’ love of chrome,”
R4 made a gesture and the dumpster lid opened. She gripped the bag, and found it was actually a struggle to lift.
“I got it.” The short woman said, lifting the bag with ease and throwing it in. She eyed the door. “Dang.”
“Yeah, no lock on this side to pick either.” That earned R4 a mean look. “Just saying,”
“What are you, some kind of picksocket? I’ve paid my dues, the Deep Fish aren’t going to take kindly to you intruding on their turf.”
“I’m a tech, well, technically a remote.” R4 replied. “I heard the sunflowers had some, well, I probably shouldn’t say.”
“Drugs?” The woman asked. “You want some of the weed they grow, or maybe some of the whole foods they grow, the non GMO stuff.” R4 gave her a confused expression. “Go look elsewhere, no sunflowers here.”
“I see.” E4 gestured, this time going a little quicker. She felt the pull bar, and with a soft tug opened the door. “I guess I’ll keep looking
“How did you do that?” The woman quipped, R4 saw her reaching for something in her apron.
“Looks like it jus’ didn’t latch. Lucky that.” She replied with a smile. She quickly stepped past the woman.
R4 spent the next hour just walking through the gloom of what she soon found was called Nu’Grav subsection 6, or The Deep Side as the graffiti proclaimed. R4 found herself staring at a mural that showed a dragonfish swimming above a field of tube worms, the fish coiled as if it might at any moment swim off the wall and take a bite out of the viewer. The paint was a low brown color, but the tufted lure that hung from beneath its jaw and a series of bio-luminescent spots along its side glowed under their own power. A close inspection revealed they were actually LED lights. It looked ferocious, though R4 knew the real things were only a bit over a foot long.4 Still, she took a moment to take a picture and send it to her parents. “Probably won’t reach ‘em for a week or two, but there’s no hurry.”
Finally R4 returned to her search. She attempted to ask a few folks at various food stalls, during which she sampled at least one or two things from each stall. Yet not one of the salesmen told her anything useful.
“The sunflowers?” A ramen shop owner asked. She was at her fourth shop of the day, and still hungry. This place was essentially three walls with a bar in the center for patrons. A curtain hanging from the ceiling behind. She noticed this one used a seaweed design, while the previous two used a cat design and deep sea dragon design. “I’m pretty sure they operate on the upper level.” He gestured towards the ceiling. R4 noticed that under his white shirt and apron he had a glowing tattoo that peeked out from his sleeve. “Around here only the Deep Fish swim. You don’t want to deal with them.”
“Are they vicious?” R4 asked, taking a big bite of her noodles. They were very salty, and she could tell the fish in them was fake, but it still tasted pretty good. That might have been the prototype adjusting her perception though. She mulled that thought over for a moment, which made the shop owner give her a nervous look. “Let me rephrase, do they make a habit of harassing folks?”
“You ask a lot of questions.” A male voice answered from behind her. R4 turned to see a muscular man step into the shop. From his pale skin R4 guessed he had never seen sun in his life, though given augmentation that could have been artificial. The man wore heavy duty jeans and an open jacket that showed off his chest, and the tattoo of a black squid studded with luminescent lights. Long tendrils reached down his arms, visible just below his rolled up sleeves. Judging from the magazine cover hair, chin pointed enough to be a beak, 12 pack abs, and perfectly shaped eyes R4 guessed he was Tier 2.
The vision of Issac slicing through Ratface with ease flashed through R4’s mind. Her heart rate quickened, and the man noticed.
“Fisher, the usual.” Within a minute flat the man had a large bowl of noodles heavy with fish, kelp, and R4 was sure whale meat. R4 quickly finished her own meal before standing to leave. “Remote, what are you doing this deep?”
“Looking for chips and screws.” R4 replied, her adrenaline addled mind not giving her time to think over her response.
“If you’re looking to get screwed there are plenty of dark corners in Nu’Grav.” the man replied. As R4 listened she received a pop up, which was forwarded to her eye. Chris “Kracken” Bithlow. 2000 credit bounty, ALIVE. A list of major and minor crimes listed after. Among the major were talking back to corporate representative, while under minor was homicide. “Seems Remotes aren’t trained in manners anymore. Didn’t your mother teach you not to scan people?”
“Still getting used to the new eye, my apologies.” R4 replied, backing up. She readied her claws, even as she knew it wasn’t going to do much of anything. She stepped out to see half a dozen men and two women approaching the shop. All of them wore black, and their coats, pants, and in one woman and one man’s case skirts were studded with small LED and decorated with the pale outline of deep sea fish. R4’s eyes were quickly drawn to the zippers on the men’s coats, which had a great resemblance to the long teeth of deep sea fish.
“Bleeding Havoc.” R4 muttered. She quickly turned to the side and bolted. Between the scant lights and her ravager eye she managed to avoid running into anything, but ten minutes later she was thoroughly lost. “Looks like no one is following me.” She quickly found an alley that seemed empty and leaned against the wall to rest. She checked the time, “Just before noon, I need to pick up the pace. That, or just use some regular screws.” She paused. “But I also need the chips, can’t just buy them at the hardware store.” R4 was broken from her musing by a low THUD. Looking towards a dumpster that had been placed in the alley she saw a young lady standing atop it, spray painting a sunflower on the wall. R4 watched as the woman worked, using a few different bottles. Next she reached into a bag and rubbed something at the base of the painting.
“Are you one of the sunflowers?” R4 asked, causing the girl to jump. Immediately she lost her footing, overbalanced and fell.
“Careful!” R4 exclaimed, lunging forwards to catch her before she could crack her head open. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Who are you?” The girl exclaimed, writhing from her grip like a wet cat. Immediately she drew a knife. “Stay back,” She hopped backwards. “I mean it.”
“Easy miss, didn’t mean no harm.” R4 replied, letting her drawl infest her words. “New ta’ town, tryin’ ta get the lay a’ th’ land.” The girl gave R4 a confused look, either trying to figure out if she was a threat or trying to parse out what she was saying through her accent.
“I don’t know you.” the girl replied. She eyed R4. “Where’s your iron?”
“Iron,” R4 fumbled around in her bag and found her wrench. It was a heavy duty adjustable wrench, more useful for large machinery than clobbering someone over the head. When she looked up the girl was already half way up the wall. “Hey!” Extending her climbing claws R4 scrabbled right up after her. The girl paused to look back, and gave R4 a chance to see she was wearing some manner of magnetic glove that glowed slightly. A small blacklight pendant provided light which made the wall seem to light up, revealing a path painted in formerly invisible ink on the concrete wall. With speed and agility the girl made it to the top, just before R4 did. “Where ya’ goin’?” The girl shrieked and drew a small device from her hand and threw it at R4. With a gesture R4 grabbed it in midair, just in time for the grenade to go off.
Immediately the rooftop was illuminated in blinding light and deafening sound. R4 covered her eyes as her ears rang. She stumbled, falling off the roof and hitting the ground with a THUD. Her right eye recovered first, followed by her hearing. Her left eye, being immune-privileged, recovered last.
“Ow, ow, ow.” R4 muttered to herself, standing up. She felt the bruises heal quickly, the pain actively receding.
[[Discount found on Gen-tec pain editor. Pain is a signal, this is the volume button. Discount found on Mars Corp pain editor. Bullets don’t care how much your hurt. Patch up later, finish the fight now. Discount found on Lok-1 pain editor. Never let them see you flinch.]] R4 saw a pop up of each of the cyberware. The Mars Corp was the most expensive, though with the discounts they were about 4000 credits each.
“Why do I want those Red Queen?” R4 asked, reaching around and pricking herself with her claws. [[Host has been afflicted with T0 Ravager toxin. Host is immune to addiction from ravager toxin]]. R4 felt a rush of endorphins as her muscles relaxed. [[Host is already producing T1 ravager toxin. Procure a pain editor or neural editor to better control ravager toxin]] “Guess that explains that.” She trilled.
“Also,” her phone trilled, “at low tier most cybernetic implants are roughly the same, but at higher tier they have more useful effects. The Mitian series generates a methylphenidate like material that allows for intense concentration while the Mars Corporation variety can stiffen the flesh to reduce damage on top of reducing pain. I will give you that detail for free.”
“You sure you’re a corp AI?” R4 replied, to no response. “So, that’s half a day wasted… wait.” She took out her phone and started typing, when a thought occurred. “Phone, look up nearest hardware store. Keyword: Blacklight.” She trilled. The phone immediately found her a shop within 200 meters.
The store was one of many outdoor stands lit up with neon lights, this one a symbol of a screw dangling from a fishing rod. All around were similar stands, and the neon lights advertising their wares lit up the artificial night with a riot of colors. As R4 approached the stand she had to quickly step out of the way as a school of Deep Fish gang members rushed by, the leader holding some manner of technology R4 thought might be a radio while the others chased after him. To R4’s eyes they seemed to be younger, maybe the oldest was 18, so more likely the younger siblings or prospects of the gang. She couldn’t help but think of a mother duck leading her ducklings.
“Hey.” R4 froze as one of the little Deep Fish stopped. The girl was maybe 18, and had half her hair shaved while her other half was cropped short save for a mohawk with a glowing tip in the front. “You look familiar.”
“Probably jus’ a passin’ resemblance.” R4 replied. She quickly scanned the woman for weapons. She immediately read a set of scratchers in the woman’s hands, a few utility pieces of cyberware, and most notably a tracker hidden in her throat. The device was quite prominent, a small glowing node hidden by other nodes that looked like decorations and further hidden by the tattoo of a squid’s arm wrapped around her throat. For armor she had a Mars corp Thinskin™ corset and a Rashrider™ leather jacket. Both of these had small glowing nodes, with the jacket having the emblem of a dragonfish on the back while her red corset and skirt had a swirling pattern similar to the vortex coral found deep in the eternal whirlpool of their neighboring gas giant.
“Wait, no, I recognize that accent. Weren’t you that tech on Uncle Agar’s Slaughterhouse? E4 right?”
R4 paused, her brain taking a moment to process things. R4, immediately she took a step back, claws at the ready to defend herself. Instead the girl took out her phone, held it up, and took a selfie with her. “Thanks.” And she was gone.
“What the blood?” R4 trilled. She shrugged and entered the shop.
The man at the shop was unremarkable in every way R4 could think of, save that he had the slightly too perfect appearance of a T1. He was of Asian origin, with short black hair, and wore a simple unadorned shirt and cargo pants. R4 eyed the cameras watching her, and quickly produced a lock which she placed on her carryall so no one could accuse her of stealing. She quickly went through the shop, finding various stock plastics she could use to 3d print objects. She quickly found some blacklights, though she wasn’t happy with the cheap mass produced blacklight flashlights. While she couldn’t remove them from their packaging they felt flimsy as if they’d break at any moment. She quickly procured some durable material for her 3d printer then went to look into other components. There were several metal parts she couldn’t simply print, like metal springs, nails, and screws, yet they were easy enough to buy. R4 paused as she examined the screws. They were packaged in small plastic containers, which prevented her from examining them too closely, but they looked legit.
“Excuse me.” The man behind the counter took a deep breath and R4 watched as he braced himself. “Do you know what these are made from, or who manufactures them? I don’t see a brand on this package.”
“I believe that a local metallurgist makes them, I’d have to ask the owner and he’s not here today. Do you want them or not?” The man replied.
“Definitely.” R4 replied, grabbing four boxes. “Also, do you have any type 3 controller chips, preferably the mark 1 or early mark 2 versions? If they are slightly cracked or unsealed they’ll still work.”
“A salvager huh? Another tech thinking they can be the next sunflower wanna be?” The man said.
“You know of them?”
“Never heard of them.”
In the end R4 left 1000 credits lighter, but she had what she wanted. As she walked towards the tram she noticed more of the Deep Fish out and about, their glowing components giving them away. She quickened her pace, not sure if she was the one they were looking for or not. Noticing a group of them converging she slipped into an alley, which she found was a dead end.
“Well, nothing’s really a dead end.” She trilled, extending her claws. A sudden gunshot and screams drover her to make a flying leap into the wall, which was promptly denied by the T2 metal. “Dang.” She heard the sound of someone running into the alley and quickly ducked behind a dumpster. She winced as someone jumped over the dumpster and dropped down right into her lap. “Oof.”
“Shhh.” The other person, a Deep Fish woman hushed her, drawing a pistol from her jacket. R4 held up her hands, as gunshots echoed from outside the alley. “Be quiet.” She nervously peered around the dumpster. R4 did as well. Her human eye saw a humanoid form at the other end, several LED giving him some color, yet they were all red. R4 shot a quick look at the Deep Fish gangster, and noticed her lights were off.
“What’s the red mean?”
“Quiet!” She whispered. “Are you armed?”
“I have a wrench.” R4 replied, reaching for her bag but finding it still locked. She considered fiddling with the combination when she couldn’t see the numbers well, but instead got to work picking it. In mere moments it was open, which both impressed and distressed R4. As she retrieved her wrench the woman got up from her hiding spot and crept forwards
BANG! Immediately she jumped back, her jacket smoking from where it had taken a hit.
“Swim little fish, Swim.” The man’s voice carried a mocking tone before he let out an oddly musical laugh. R4 heard another gunshot, and judging by the crater it left in the ground she estimated it was from a T1 gun.
“Really need some better armor.” R4 muttered to herself.
“Hey you, go distract him.” The woman said.
“Are you crazy, I’m T0 and he’s got a T1 gun. He’ll rip me apart.” R4 replied.
“And if you don’t I’ll rip you apart with this T1 gun.” The woman gestured with the firearm. “If you survive maybe you’ll remember your iron next time.”
R4 trilled at her angrily before turning. She reached into her bag and found her wrench. She shot one last baleful eye and spoke. “Initiate flare protocol.”
R4 wanted to wince at the damage she knew she was doing, but the endorphans hit far too hard. She charged out, T1 agility carrying her far faster than the gunman expected. She hit the far wall, kicking off it just before a flurry of bullets struck, T1 rounds bouncing off T1 metal. Before he could adjust R4 extended a flashlight, the brightest one she had, the one she used for peering into the darkest pits, and shone it into the pits of the man’s soul.
For just a moment the man hesitated, his empty black optics taking a moment to adjust, before he opened fire. A burst of bullets shredded flashlight and flesh with equal ease.
Or, it should have. The moment he took for his optics to adjust was all R4 needed. Her undamaged right arm sprouted long claws and sheathed them into the man’s arm. She was dimly aware that he had a leather jacket for protection, but the T0 fake leather might as well have been wet tissue paper. Immediately the T1 toxin went to work. R4 suddenly became aware of a low resonant tone, just as the man raised his gun to fire. R4 ducked beneath his weapon, rolling between his legs and whipping around, shredding both his legs with venomous claws regardless of the thick jeans he wore.
The hail of gunfire ended that, as the woman behind the dumpster opened fire. R4 was immediately made aware that it was not, in fact, a tier 1 gunman by the fact that the bullets punched through him as if he was a cotton scarecrow. Each round ripped a fist sized hole through the man, and one round clipped R4 and made her yelp. The ruined heap of broken flesh and metal fell over her, and some instinct told R4 to lie still.
The Deep Fish woman rose from her hiding place and approached. “You make a good distraction girl.” She paused, waiting for a response. “Dead, shame.” She walked past, reloading her weapon. R4 peered up at her, rage and indignation in her heart. She wanted nothing more than to lunge, and rip the woman’s throat out so she could feast on her brain.
The thought came so suddenly R4 froze, and then it passed as her flare protocol ended. She felt her wound begin to hurt even as her regeneration nodules got to work. After a minute she sat up and, examined her attacker.
The man’s cyberware was cheap, and most of it was damaged beyond repair. R4 quickly identified a modification to his arm that allowed him to handle the kick of a Tier 1 firearm despite being Tier 0 himself. It was cheap, and heavily worn, but she scanned it with her phone anyhow, ignoring the copyright pop ups that doing so caused. A bit of subdermal armor remained around his chest, which hadn’t helped in the slightest and was beyond salvaging. Next R4 examined the man’s eyes, which despite him now lacking a jaw had somehow survived. As she examined what was left of his skull R4 was convinced someone had taken a buzz saw to his eyes and chipped in the abomination that currently occupied his face, six large still glowing sensors. The toxin in his blood sang to her that, despite the man being dead, the machine was still operating, but even that was failing quickly. A moment later all activity ceased.
“What was that?” R4 asked, standing as her wound finally healed over. It was just a graze, but from injured to healed in 2 minutes was acceptable, if barely. “Some kind of turf war?”
At that her phone buzzed. R4 looked around, making sure no one heard, before crouching back by the body and checking. Immediately she saw dozens of gigs, all asking for photos of the violence.
“Bloody vultures,” R4 muttered even as she took a picture of the man who had tried to shoot her. She looked up, and now that she wasn’t running she saw a fire escape. It was locked, of course, but that took only a few moments to fix. She quickly submitted the image to a requestor who was looking for a picture of a dead Iron Hand, which is what she guessed the man was, and received 100 credits by the time she reached the top of the building.
All around firefights were happening. The white lights of the Deep Fish seemed to be fighting the red lights of the Iron Hands. She saw the red lights wash over the town like a wave, only to be pushed back by smaller groups of white lights.
After a few minutes of watching R4 realized she couldn’t quite tell what was going on. While she waited for the fighting to die down she got to work, taking out her tools and starting on her little black light. She quickly made a small flashlight, one sturdy enough to be used as a blunt weapon if need be. Yet it didn’t feel like enough. Still, now was not the place to play with her tools.
Glancing over the edge R4 shone her black light to ensure she wasn’t missing anything. Immediately she saw several previously hidden works of grafitti, and a lot of red lights. Under the black light a few of the components lit up.
There was a flash and a BANG and the men charged inside the building. R4 eyed the fire escape, then noticed another Iron Hand watching the alleys. She looked over at the next building over.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Desperate times,” R4 took a few steps back, scanning the ground to make sure she wouldn’t trip over anything. There was a lot of trash, and a few bullet casings, but with a wave of her hands her telekinesis pushed it aside. She took a deep breath, and ran. She reached the edge and jumped, reaching out and trying to lift herself with telekinesis. For a moment she thought it was working, before she reached the next building and her telekinesis threw her facefirst into the roof.
“Ow.” R4 muttered.
“Observation: Ravagers cannot fly. Noted. For advancing science, and because it looks like that hurt, have some exp.” R4 pushed herself to a crouch and shook the trash she had landed in off, save for a rancid milkshake she had landed on. With a gesture she threw the rancid fluid off, taking a layer of skin with it. “Also you have several gigs.”
Her phone trilled softly, and a pop up appeared, sort of. She didn’t see it in her eye, but from the trill she could tell every detail, from the exact hue of red to the exact size of the text and every word. She didn’t need time to read it, it was just in her mind. She took out her phone and cast the image to her eye just to make sure, but the image matched.
Test new resonant information
Team size: 1
Hazard: bloodless
Company: Fangs of Mara
Contact: The Red Queen
Reward: 10 exp. Fluency in resonant
Resonant is still an experimental language, and constantly undergoing updates. It transmitted by rapid chirps, clicks, and trills that act as a carrier wave for psychic impressions. Computers cannot use it without a biological interface. Please respond by saying “I can hear you.” In 12 point font, using Liberation Serif, in red, at 12 degrees celcius
“I can hear you.” R4 felt the experience drop, and immediately convert itself into comprehension.
Sharpen your claws
Team size: 1
Hazard: bloody
Company: Fangs of Mara
Contact: The Red Queen
Reward: 200 exp per test subject. Bounty.
Way to think on your feet with that flashlight, quite the bright idea. That woman quite rudely stole your kill. Why not give it another go?
The Iron Hand are a brutal gang and will kill you without hesitation. No one will blame you if you kill a few in self defense. The NGPD might even pay you their bounty if they have one
Clawmageddon
Team size: 1
Hazard: blood stained
Company: Fangs of Mara
Contact: The Red Queen
Reward: 2000 exp. Bounty. 10,000 credits
Way to think on your feet with that flashlight, quite the bright idea. That woman quite rudely stole your kill. Why not give it another go? Kill or incapacitate 24 or more Iron hand.
The Iron Hand are a brutal gang and will kill you without hesitation. No one will blame you if you kill a few, dozen, in self defense. The NGPD might even pay you their bounty if they have one
Herald of Mara
Team size: 1
Hazard: End of days. You will die
Company: Fangs of Mara
Contact: The Red Queen
Reward: 20,000 exp. 100,000 credits. Bounty
Offenses shall not be tolerated, blood shall be demanded in recompense. Slay all who cross your path and leave a mark upon each body. Announce to the world the age of metal is over. The age of twitching flesh and clicking gears has arrived, and none shall be left unchanged.
“No.” R4 replied. “I’m getting out of here, I’m not going to kill a bunch of people.
“Would you say the same if they were dimdwell?” R4 considered the matter. “Do you think the people here care if dimdwell rounds or Iron Hand rounds smash their skulls, or tear open their chests? Would you like to put that to the test?”
A test of Character
Team size: You
Hazard: bloodless to blood stained
Company: None
Contact: Your conscious
Reward: 300 exp (must be spent on one frame attribute)
Let us test your resolve. Make it back home without dying or killing a single Iron Hand or Deep Fish. Alternatively, kill as many as you see fit.
R4 took in the gig. She looked down at the chaos on the street. Even as she watched a man jumped from a window, his fall followed by a hail of gunfire. Another man ran to the window, firing more rounds into the man who had just fallen. Neither bore the red cybernetics of the Iron hand.
Turning away R4 ran, throwing herself across the gap of another building. The building afterwards had fencing and barbed wire, yet she quickly found a spot it had been cut and made a flying leap that carried her to it. Grabbing onto the fence she quickly clipped the single support holding it together and was inside.
The next few building R4 jumped to had a complication, in the form of an unforeseen lump just beyond her landing zone. R4 tripped, going head over teakettle. In an instant she was up, claws out, and face to face with a young girl wearing a cloak the exact same color as the roof. The girl was shaking even as her cloak came apart in several strips and readied to defend her. Small blue lights streamed down the cloak, making it resemble the arms of a deep sea squid
R4 dismissed her claws. “Sorry about that, didn’t see you there.” She paused, recognizing the girl. “Hey, aren’t you that graffiti artist?” The artist looked up, reaching for something. “Easy,” R4 whispered, crouching low.
“Hey, someone’s over there!” She heard someone, she wasn’t sure if it was a Deep Fish or an Iron Hand, shout.
“Time to go,” R4 said, looking to find a way out.
“Wait, take me with you.” The girl exclaimed. R4 looked back at her to notice a section of her cloak was wrapped around her leg like a bandage, or a splint. “I know all the hidden ways, you’ll get lost without me.”
“But I have to carry you, right?” R4 asked. “Kid, you’re over half my weight, that’s a tall order.” The girl paused, and in that time R4 scooped her up. “So make sure to introduce me to those sunflowers when we’re done. So, where are those secret ways?”
“This building is connected to a support column which has a maintenance hatch.” She pointed towards the edge of the building, which sure enough abutted to a large column. “If we climb to the top we’ll be in the catwalks. They’re hard to get to, and hard to see. We should be safe up there.”
R4 quickly found the entrance, and found it was locked. She set the girl down and with a flip of her wrist R4 had her tool arm open. Inside she found a few new components growing, actually growing. They resembled worms, though coated in chitin and bits of metal. Immediately they printed out a tool she needed from what looked like bone. R4 pushed the concern from her mind with worrying ease and in a moment she had the door open. She returned the tool and her arm closed back up before consuming the tool again, something she knew without having to see it.
“Um, I have a key.”
“Oh… too late.” R4 replied, picking up the girl, before seeing that the inside was a ladder. “Think you can hold onto my neck, or can you climb with a hurt leg?”
“I can hold on, but it’s going to be tight.”
“Jus’ don’t go chokin’ me.” R4 took the ladder and noticed the rungs were T1. “Someone built this to last, hard ta’ believe in this city.”
“Probably had a 100 year contract and if any work had to be done it would be done on their dime.” The graffiti artist replied. “Only way to make anything that lasts in this city.”
The climb was long and slow, R4 carrying not only her own bag but another person. Yet she managed, even if she had to crush up against the ladder when they got to a narrow spot. “Looks like all those days luggin’ around hay were worth it.” She joked.
“Definitely a remote.” The girl replied. “Theocracy or Empire?”
“I don’t know why y’all call us a Theocracy, jus’ ‘cause we were founded by a bunch a’ religious folk don’t mean the Pres’ is also a priest. I mean her husband is, but that’s beside th’ point.” A low thunk sound caught R4’s ears. “Y’all hear that?” More thunks, coming from above. “Are we expecting rain?”
“No, I don’t think,” There was a low BOOM. “Cling to the ladder!”
R4 did, just before something big and wet fell past them. As R4 looked down she saw a body falling. “What the,”
“Hey, I heard someone. Anyone down there?” R4 looked up, and saw some white lights looking down.
“Hey, throw a grenade down there, that’ll scare them.”
“You do that and I’m telling Kraken!” the girl shouted.
“Shoot, that’s Zephyr, hold fire. R4 quickly climbed up until two sets of hands took Zephyr off her shoulders before stepping out. “Who’s this?”
“I’m R4.” R4 replied, eyeing the group of Deep Fish. There were seven of them, all dressed in leathers and goggles. To a man they had two handed weapons, half automatic rifles half shotguns. The man up front carried a spear that created a cloud of frosty vapor around it. The man himself was draped in power armor of darkest black, with small white lights and paintings of deep sea fish. Long tube worms crawled up his boots, breaking the pure black. White serpents wound their way down his arms to his hands, which would be oversized on a gorilla and made the spear he was carrying look more like a harpoon than a spear. In contrast, he wore a yellow rain slicker.
[[Abyssal protector: Mars Corporation T1. A suit of power armor designed to protect its wearer in the deepest ocean as well as the battlefield. This suit provides 240 hours worth of oxygen to its wearer and allows them three optional abilities. This suit has been modified, base specifications may vary. Warranty voided. Option: Empower gauntlets. These gloves handle some of the processing power required to use higher tier weapons. This takes up two options. Only works with Tier 2 weapons. Further options unknown]
[[Fisherman spear: Mars Corporation T2. This spear is a power weapon that uses advanced technology to freeze anything struck by it. It may also create frozen projectiles. Estimated damage: 2X+2. DC30 (DC reduced due to Empower Gauntlets)]] R4 got the feeling that one strike from the weapon would freeze her solid. She’d be dead, no if, and, or buts. She also got the feeling it wasn’t even the strongest weapon on the market, not even close.
The armored man shot her a look and adjusted the hood of his rain slicker. “Zephyr, you should be home.” His voice was flat, and the speaker he was using added an additional mechanical layer. For a moment R4 saw another man before her. Yet this man was just in a metal suit. Blue sensors glowed beneath his yellow hood, not sickly yellow. “And what are you doing with an outsider?”
“I hurt my leg.” She replied. “She was giving me a lift home.” The armored man eyed Zephyr, who was still clinging to R4, then R4.
“Good thing you’re short.” Another Deep fish spoke. “Gris, the Iron hand are moving pretty quick.”
“Get her home, or you will answer to Kraken.” Gris, the armored man, gestured with his spear. With that he jumped from their perch.
“Always dramatic.” The second Deep Fish replied. “But you heard the man. Let’s get going.” The Deep Fish quickly filed down the ladder.
“That went well, I think.” R4 replied. “At least they didn’t try ta’ shoot me again.”
“Again?” Zephyr asked, before directing R4 to take a specific door which lead to another catwalk. Below the white and red lights continued to fire upon one another, the pop pop of automatic fire and the CRACK of rifle fire echoing above.
“A Deep Fish tried usin’ me ta' distract an Iron Hand, and nicked me ‘cross th’ back with friendly fire. Threatened ta’ shoot me if I didn’t.” At Zephyr’s direction R4 managed to cross a catwalk and evade a few booby traps the Deep Fish had placed.
“Clik, I know the woman.” Zephyr replied. “Or could be Ginny, or Yippin. Wouldn’t put it past them either. Deep Fish swim in schools.”
“I’m pretty sure they don’t, on Earth or here.”
“It’s a slogan, it doesn’t have to make sense. Down there, see that door?” Zephyr drew a small necklace from beneath her shirt and it emitted an ultraviolet light which made the door light up with a code.
“Pretty slick” R4 replied. “Do all Deep Fish use UV like that?”
“No, that’s something my mom came up with. Deep fish like UV, but this is different.” R4 began to type the code into the keypad. “The last number is an 8.”
“It says 7.” R4 replied.
“It’s always 8.” R4 listened, and the door opened with a click. “I think it’s a glitch, but it helps keep people out even if they know to look under UV light.”
R4 quickly entered and found another ladder, which she descended quickly, maybe a little too quickly. With practiced ease she gripped the edges and slid down, or tried to.
“What the,” R4’s feet landed on something hard and metalic, which fell on something both fleshy and metalic, which landed on something else fleshy and metalic before all three were dropped two stories to land in a heap. “I think I just landed on someone.” She jumped down, careful not to step on whoever she just hit.
“Iron hand.”
“Looks ta’ be.” R4 replied, taking more pictures before putting a hand to one’s throat. These three men were more heavily armored, wearing what looked like a cross between an actual metal breastplate and kevlar. Their primary colors were black and red, though one replaced their red accents with yellow. R4 instantly disliked him. “Too much chrome, I can’t tell if he’s alive or not.” A pop up appeared that the man had a bounty. “Wanted for… how many counts of murder?”
“12.” Zephyr confirmed with her phone. “Only 2400 credits, so not anyone the PD really care about. This one is worth more at 3400.”
“That’s four months rent.” R4 replied. With a gesture she produced several sets of shackles made from metal and plastic from her tool arm and bound the Iron Hands’ hands. As she was binding the third Zephyr slit the first one’s throat. “What the Blood, you just killed him.”
“He had augmentations, he’d break out the moment he woke up. Besides,” She scanned the man’s face and received a notification. “He was going to kill us. This guy’s got 23 murders, and 4 of them were children. 2 more aren’t a big deal.” She eyed the man’s shotgun, a brutal looking thing of steel that looked as if could double as a two handed club. “You use shotguns?”
“I had one on th’ farm but I haven’t used one in a bit.” R4 picked up one of the other Iron Hand’s revolvers. The thing was an ugly metal thing, made from cheap steel. R4 gave it a once over and relieved the man of the watch that connected to it. Immediately her HUD told her the number of rounds in the gun as well as informing her that her Keys to the Kingdom had broken the lock. “I’ve always preferred revolvers.”
Sign of Mara
Team size: 1
Hazard: drop of blood
Company: Fangs of Mara
Contact: The Red Queen
Reward: 400 exp. 1000 credits.
Mara’s first Fang has laid low her first foe. Etch Mara’s symbol above your prey, that all may know that The Bitter One has arisen.
Medical Malpractice
Team size: 1
Hazard: drop of blood
Company: Fangs of Mara
Contact: The Red Queen
Reward: 330 aptitude exp.
A Ravager’s claws posses a chemical known as Ravager Toxin. It’s effects vary heavily. In some places things like medical ethics and morals might make this a problem, but this is Nu’Grav, The City of Tears Tiers. Now you just need some willing test subjects, or subjects who can’t say no. Now where might you get some of those?
“No, I’m not doing that.” R4 replied.
“What?”
“I just got a gig telling me to, you know, I’m just not going to do it.” R4 paused, before extending her claws and scratching a symbol above the bodies.
“What are you doing?”
“A different gig I got.” R4 eyed the symbol as she carved what gig told her to. The resonant instructions were crystal clear, down to how deep, wide, and tall the symbol should be. It looked like a stylized M, with two fangs for the supports in the empty spaces beneath the letter. Next she fused the shackles on the two living Iron Hands next to the symbol with a bit of T1 bone coral. She felt her phone buzz as she got the notification that the credits were paid. “Ok, where to next?”
Zephyr directed R4 into an alley, and to a door she revealed with her necklace. She tapped a code, which was actually just a rhythm against the door, and it opened.
“Freeze!” R4 put her hands up, and nearly dropped Zephyr as she did.
“Mom, it’s me. Put the gun down.”
“Zoe, what are you doing out during a riot, get in here!” The woman yelled. “Bring your friend too, come on child.” R4 quickly stepped in and the woman slammed the door, before slamming several locks. “That should hold, now you girl,” She turned to Zephyr hands on her hips and face down turned in a practiced scolding pose, only to have to look up to where Zephyr still clung to R4. “Why are you still holding my girl piggyback?”
“She hurt her leg?” R4 replied. “I’m not a medic, I don’t want ta’ make it worse.”
“Follow me, and don’t bump yer’ head.” R4 couldn’t help it, but she felt the woman’s voice sounded familiar. She quickly found what she meant as not three meters in she whacked her head on a low hanging pipe. “Gonk, what did I just say?”
“My mistake.” R4 replied, ducking.
“Ow!” Zephyr exclaimed, her own head just a bit higher.
“Sorry, hold on.” R4 laid Zephyr down before fumbling in her bag for some materials. In a few moments she had created a crude crutch from some plastic and bone. “Here, since we’re not runnin’ fer’ our lives this should help ya’ walk.”
“Thanks. What brand is that?”
“It’s custom, It was the Solarian brand, but my uncle has modified it, and I’ve modified it a bit more.” R4 replied.
“Huh, so you’re Solarian?” Zephyr said, testing her new cane.
“Pardon?” R4 asked.
“Don’t mind Zoe, 18 years old and she still doesn’t know when to stop talking.” The other woman commented. With a gesture another door opened bringing them into a grow room.
R4 immediately recognized the carrots and lettuce growing, as well as several modified sunflowers that grew short with broader heads for more seeds. There were more plants she didn’t recognize, save that she could feel herself humming under her breath and her phone picking it up. It was a rather involuntary response, and R4 realized she was feeding her phone a description of what she was seeing, and it was humming back the information. Immediately she knew what each plant she was looking at were. Several were quite illegal, not because they were dangerous but because the patent was expired, and they were recalled. Immediately she saw several Gentek tomatoes that had been out of production for two years, yet they still produced good fruit regardless.
“Seems you found your sunflowers girl.” Zephyr’s mother spoke. Now that she was in the light R4 could see Zephyr’s mother was just about the same height as Zephyr, which put them both at about 120 cm each. While Zephyr’s hair was black and transitioned to blue, her mother’s was shoulder length green.
“This is quite the setup.” R4 replied, eyeing the various lights that bathed the entire structure as if it were day. Someone had even gone and painted the walls with images of trees, which started as crude and childlike before becoming more and more realistic. “Rice for the noodles, wheat, tomatoes and chives, you seem to have a bit of everything down here. How did you manage to bypass the,” She froze as she found herself staring down the barrel of a shotgun. “Woah, what I do?”
“Mom, seriously, what’s your deal. She helped us.”
“Who the F*** sent you? Was it Gentek, Lok-1, Real® Foods?” R4’s mind went a thousand miles an hour, her horns buzzed as she reached out for an idea. It occurred to her that the woman didn’t know she had telekinesis, she could trigger the safety on the gun with no one the wiser. “Who do you work for? Was it the inquisitors?”
“No one, I was just looking for screws.”
“You can get screws at the hardware store.”
“An’ I did.” R4 replied, “They’re in my bag. I wanted reusable screws an’ some hacked computer chips for a gig, and I was told the sunflowers had them. Didn’t know y’all supply the local hardware store. As fer Zephyr, I quite literally tripped over her running from the Iron Hand.”
Zephyr’s mom eyed R4, before lowering her shotgun. “You’ll stay here tonight, it’s too dangerous to go out right now. Zephyr, show her to Zach’s old room.”
“Yes Mom.”
“And Zoe, Zephyr, keep an eye on her.”
Zephyr led R4 to another room which was sparse save for a bed and an old computer covered with dozens of stickers of animated characters.
“Sorry about that, my mom’s a little paranoid.”
“I’ll say, I thought I was about to see God.” R4 replied. “She always that paranoid? I haven’t heard a’ th’ inquisitors vanishin’ somebody in years.”
“Not always, only since Zach left. One of the corporations lured him off with promises of money and a high position, haven’t heard from him since. You know how it is.”
“Seems this place has a reputation for stealing brothers.” R4 replied.
“Nu’Grav is the city of tears after all.” Zephyr plopped down on her brother’s bed and R4 plopped down beside her. “Is it like this where you’re from?”
“No, it’s very different.” R4 replied. “Yet I’m not completely convinced it’s better. Who’s the highest tier person you know?”
“Kraken, He’s Tier 2. Next would be Broadhead, he’s tier 1 but he’s close, and you’ve seen him in his armor.”
“And the Deep Fish are a small gang, in the grand scheme of things?” Zephyr nodded. “In my hometown the highest tier man is my uncle Josiah, and he’s tier 2. So within a week of moving to the city I run into a small time gang leader as strong as the most powerful man I’ve met in 25 years. I can’t help but think we’re doing something wrong.”
“But besides that, what’s it like out there?” Zephyr asked. “Do you get to see the sun every day?”
“Not every day, but for me that’s mostly a choice. Can’t you go out in the sun?”
“Not really. I burn too easy, see how pale my skin is?” R4 hadn’t noticed, but Zephyr was rather pale. She also had large pink eyes. Her hair was black but tapered to blue, though at the roots where it hadn’t been dyed she could see it was white. Her black hoodie, black shorts, and sturdy boots, now set aside so she could wrap her sprained ankle, completed a somewhat goth look. R4 could barely notice her MESH, indicating her as Tier 0. The only thing that really stood out was her black cloak, which as she removed it immediately changed to match the bed, before powering down and turning black again. “I’m albino, the sun hates me.”
“Huh, surprised they didn’t fix that when you were born. I was going to be nearsighted, but they fixed that in the womb.”
“Probably too expensive. Mom does alright, but gene therapy’s expensive.”
They chatted a bit longer and before R4 realized it Zephyr’s mom had called her for dinner. The meal was some manner of ramen R4 didn’t recognize, but she was immediately made aware that the pasta and spices were real even if the pork was vat grown. Zephyr and her mother both ate with chopsticks, though R4 had to use the spoon provided. Also surprising to R4 was that Zephyr’s mom prayed before eating, something she hadn’t seen anyone beside herself doing.
“Seems the gonks outside either tired out or killed each other.” Zephyr’s mom finally broke the silence. “The trams are runnin’ again, so it’s safe for R4 here to go home, as safe as this place ever is.”
“Thank you Mrs. Maine.” Zephyr’s mom froze, her chopsticks clinking against the bowl. “Did I misspeak.”
“How the F*** do you know my name?”
“Rebecca Maine? Zephyr told me.” R4 replied hesitantly, to which Zephyr nodded. “I didn’t know it was supposed to be a secret.”
Rebecca eyed R4 before picking up her chopsticks. “Names have power, especially in this city. Call me Becca, that’s common enough it won’t flag. Thought you’d know that, givin’ yer’ usin’ an alias Rachel.”
The name sounded wrong the way Becca said it, even as R4 did not know why. It made her flinch, which drew a sly smile from Becca. “I see, when in Rome.” The rest of the meal passed in awkward silence. “I suppose I’d best go, it will be dark soon and I will be pulling late hours as is to get my work done. It was lovely meeting you, and thank you for the meal.”
Zephyr showed R4 to the door, and with that she was on the street. She looked back at the home of her new friend and noticed the sign above the noodle shop that they lived at. A red neon skull with the top removed and yellow neon noodles and blue neon chopsticks. The name “Of My Enemy” was emblazoned above the symbol “So that’s what the skull was for. Little morbid.” With that R4 adjusted her carryall, re-affixed the lock, and was off.
Her walk back towards the tram reminded R4 more of the aftermath of a storm than a shootout. While there were two men in blue armor emblazoned with NGPD in gold, those were the only officers she saw. Everywhere she saw store owners and citizens taking pictures with their phones of the damage done, broken signs, broken doors, and bloodstains all were recorded. R4’s phone pinged with gigs, which she noticed were all from insurance companies looking for independent verification of the mess. She eyed the 100 and 150 credit payouts and decided not to bother.
“Turning down work?”
“100 credits for 100 pictures, that sounds like a lot of work for very little pay. Also, shouldn’t they have an adjuster for that?” R4 asked. “And how bad would I feel if I messed up a photo and it caused someone not to get the money they needed to fix their home?” As she dismissed the job a more morbid gig appeared
Corpse retrieval
Team size: any
Hazard: 1
Company: NGPD
Contact: Bone Queen
Reward: 200 credits/body
Autonomous corpse retrieval bots have found a body they cannot reach. Location pinged.
“That’s morbid.” R4 heard a low PLOP as a heavyset man’s body fell right beside her, a tag wrapped around his arm. A few moment later a large yellow robot with thick treads and black and white stripes approached before shoveling the body inside itself with a pair of long crablike claws. A red light on top of it flashed green twice before it continued down the street, paying no mind to R4. As it passed R4 noticed black smoke pouring out of a smokestack on its back. “Mobile crematorium? I think I’m starin’ ta’ hate this place.”
R4 tried not to think to hard about what was going on around her. She quickly ducked into an alley as two men were fighting over whose tag was supposed to go on a corpse. Both drew iron, and one was paid 400 credits rather than 200.
“This isn’t right.” R4 muttered to herself as she finally arrived at the tram station. This one was far darker than the one near The Pain Train. It almost looked as if the concrete was painted black. Several cracks had been given a luminescent make over, almost as if glowing plants had sprouted from the cracks. “And what exactly cracks Tier 1 concrete at this stage?” R4 whispered to herself, not expecting an answer. She approached the terminal and saw the next train wasn’t for another 10 minutes. “Bleedin’ Havoc.” She muttered, leaning against the wall. She eyed her surroundings, keeping an eye out for trouble as her guidebook suggested. A few folks were chatting waiting for the tram, each one eyeing their phones. R4 didn’t pay much attention to them, until something caught her ear.
“Dang, I’m one body short.”
“That’s a bummer, I don’t think Skeeves is going to give you another extension on rent. Hey, don’t look suspicious but look over there.” R4 raised her eyes from her own phone to see the men, and notice all of them had glowing red electronics. One of them had replaced his chest with metal, while another had both his arms replaced by hydraulics. The other two looked fully human save for their eyes. One had a pair of red sensors that would have looked like night vision goggles had they not been welded to his face. The other had replaced his entire face with a black skull mask, a red visor taking the place of his eyes.
“I see her. What do you say, have some fun then feed the machine?”
“Specks, kill the cameras.”
R4 looked up at them as the four men approached. She looked towards the entrance, but one of the men stepped in front of it.
“Alright Ripper, your paycheck, have at it.” The man with the metal chest said to the man with the face mask. “Specs, kill the cams.”
The masked man stepped forwards, drawing a black blade with strange green etching on it. “Come on sweetheart, play nice and it won’t hurt a bit,” he menaced with the knife, “Promise.”
R4’s heart kicked into overdrive. She put away her phone as the man approached.
[[Buzz knife. Mitian T0. A knife that uses high frequencies to do more damage, at the cost of being harder to use. DC 16.]]
“Red, I don’t suppose you can get the NGPD over here.” R4 asked.
“Only 10 credits a minute hotline, probably be over here in 30 minutes given the recent riot. OR, and hear me out,”
TEACH THOSE PUNKS A LESSON!
Team size: You, yourself, and no one else
Hazard: Bloody
Company: Mara
Contact: The Red Queen
Reward: Bounty+200 exp per body+200 credits per body
Hostile Iron hand gang members have accosted the First Fang of Mara. In a world of might makes right, weakness is a capital sin. Show these fools the Fangs of Mara. Claws out Ravager!
Targets:
John “Iron_Mask430” Doe
Bounty 800 credits: Murder, carjacking
Samuel “Sp3cks” Murgoc
Bounty: 1600 credits: Murder, defiling a corpse, hacking
Holland “ArmorKin” Finnigan
Bounty: 600 credits. Aggravated assault, assault with a deadly weapon,
Jon “Fl4m3fist” Doe:
Bounty: 10,000 credits. Murder, Arson, Possessing proscribed weaponry, Jaywalking, so much jaywalking. For real, 1000 of the credits on this bounty are for jaywalking.
“Really? How do ya’ get a 1000 credit bounty for jaywalking?” R4 replied, setting down her bag. She could get the wrench out of it if she was willing to remove the lock, yet with a gesture her claws were out.
“Looks like we got a bounty hunter, guess we get to take our time with,” As he spoke R4 lashed out going for the man’s chest. Center of mass, nice wide target. Maybe armored, but she was hoping it would work. What she wasn’t expecting was her legs to lunge at just the right moment, or her right arm to move just a bit higher to strike at the man’s throat. She felt the flesh part, and her second blow was almost an afterthought, ripping through his jacket with the ease of scissors through construction paper. For a moment she felt something soft and squishy. She pulled back, only to find still twitching muscle tissue her implant tentatively identified as part of an artificial heart. Immediately the man dropped, his neck now sporting a new mouth
“What the Rust?”
“Protocol dictates The Bitter One give you one chance to flee.” R4 raised an eyebrow. “Say it...”
“Run fer yer’ lives ya’ worthless waste a’ flesh, Fer’ Th’ Bitter One’ll give ya’ one chance.” R4 yelled at the top of her lungs.
“Not quite per protocol, but I like the spirit.”
“Burn the witch!”
Immediately the other three men drew iron.
“Initiate flare protocol!” R4 exclaimed before diving for one of the men’s knees in an attempt to evade the bullets while keeping up the attack.
In theory R4 knew that there was a relatively large disparity between tiers. She had locked horns with Ratface and seen the disparity between herself and it. Yet she was not ready for the ease in which her claws went through the man with the chestplate’s legs. She expected some resistance, some sort of push back. Instead it was like tearing construction paper, with the bone being less than a pretzel stick. She saw the man with the goggles barely raise a gun before turning to run. R4 considered chasing him, the rush of Ravager toxin in her veins pushing her onwards, neuropathic fangs pushing down from outside her teeth.
A plume of fire brought R4 back to her senses. The iron armed man was pointing at her, his right arm opened up. A plume of flames shot forth, catching R4 out of position. In desperation she threw up her hands. Instinctively she felt the barrier covering her hands like gauntlets open up. She felt the burn of plastic on her skin, but it was distant, inconsequential.
“No way, that was a T1 flamethrower!” Fl4m3fist exclaimed. He fiddled with his arm, R4 wasn’t sure what he was doing but she wasn’t going to let him finish. She lunged, lashing out at his neck with her claws. She found purchase, yet where her previous victims dropped like harvested wheat this one stayed upright. “Just die you witch!”
R4 ducked under a punch, only to find the flamethrower now pointed at her. She saw the man grin, before the weapon spewed fire between them. “Blasted second hand,”
R4 wasn’t letting the opportunity go. She lunged, putting her all into her claws. She swiped for the man’s neck, yet he caught it on his arm, which left his gut open for a second blow. She felt something pop beneath her claws and the man went limp. For a moment his eyes hazed over, his lips smiling.
“Poison, dang…”
“Nice job, now quick, get to etching before flare protocol wears off. Your claws should be sharp enough. R4 knelt, carving the symbol into the man’s arm. “I meant into the wall, but that works too.”
R4 quickly etched the symbol into the cyberware of each of the men. As she did she missed a bit on the masked man, and a bit of blood got on the barrier over her hands. A thought occurred to her, as her stomach growled. She held a bit of blood on the tip of her claws, maybe just a taste. A glance up at the lights on the camera let her know no one was watching. Her tongue shot forth, the copper tang was sweet on her tongue, and a wave of euphoria passed through her mind. A thrill of spilling blood, seasoned by the bitterness of a creeping doubt. There was no tram here, and no one else in the station. Maybe just a bite…
“Beep Beep!” The sound made R4 jump. One of the corpse bots had managed to get itself stuck in the door. It beeped at her and snapped at the bodies. She quickly dragged the bodies over, at which the machine made a disconcertingly happy beep. Now that she was close R4 heard the thing chopping up the bodies. “It’s harvesting the cyberware.” As it grabbed Fl4m3fist it dragged him in before letting off a series of beeps. “He’s Tier 1, the machine can’t take him.”
R4 felt the rush of flare protocol drop, and immediately felt winded. “I actually jus’ survived a Tier 1 attack?”
“Survived? You dropped that guy like a habit. You also provided exceptional field data, both on how the prototype handles combat and the damage it does on your own body. Protocol dictates I congratulate you on this accomplishment.”
“How bad?” R4 asked, wincing. She looked down to see a good chunk of her shirt was now melted to her flesh. It had cooled enough that it wouldn’t burn her anymore, but she could tell it would need to be removed. Underneath her skin was unharmed, despite the fire.
“Please upgrade your plan for more questions. Alternatively, check your biomonitor.”
“Red.” R4 whined. She sighed and swiped to her biomonitor. It was yelling at her about a first degree burn on her stomach and the fact that despite having eaten five meals she still was hungry. Yet as the tram pulled in she hefted her carryall and got on without issue.
That night R4 worked until 1AM fixing the equipment. She showered, removing her half melted T-shirt piece by piece. Finally she plopped into bed.
“Don’t forget, you’ve earned quite a bit of experience.”
“Still getting used to that.” R4 replied, before a thought occurred. “Red, about that test of character, do you think I did the right thing at the end there? They were going to kill me, but still,”
“Upgrade to pro for,”
“Forget it.” R4 took out her phone and examined the experience she had gained. She fiddled around with it a bit, finding she had a discount on a few skills for using them recently.
Current frame:
Free exp: 60+ 400 (sign of mara) +300 (test of character, Red Queen override this must go to Force) +600 (sharpen your claw) +800 (TEACH THOSE PUNKS A LESSON).
Note: until you reach Tier 1 attributes cost a flat 100 per. After Tier 1 they will cost more. Skills may be discounted if you use them recently. Skills can only be increased thrice if they have recently been used or once if not. This may change later.
Force
4→4+1-→4+2-→5 (cost 300) MAXED
Athletics: 1 → 1+1 → 1+2 → 2 (cost 20 due to discount)
Brute: 2→ 2+1 (cost 20)
Endurance: 1→1+1 (cost 10)
Resolve: 1→1+1 (cost 10)
Swimming: 2→ 2+1 (cost 20)
Reflexes
3→ 3+1→ 3+2 → 4 (cost 300)
Acrobatics: 1→ 1+1→1+2→2 (cost 25 due to discount)
Firearms: 2→2+1 (cost 20)
Melee: 2→2+1→2+2 (cost 50 due to discount)
Parry: 0→ 1 (cost 10)
Stealth: 1→ 1+1→ 1+2→ 2 (cost 25 due to discount)
Aptitude
4→ 4+1→ 4+2→ 5 (cost 300) MAXED
Driving: 1→1+1 (cost 10)
Medicine: 1→1+1→1+2 →2 (cost 25 due to discount)
Pickpocket: 1→1+1 (cost 10)
Security: 1+1→ 1+2 → 2 (cost 15 due to discount)
Technology: 2→2+1 (cost 20)
Mind
4→ 4+1 → 4+2 → 5(cost 300) MAXED
Bureaucracy: 0→ 1(cost 10)
Computers: 1→1+1 (cost 10)
Research: 1→1+1 (cost 10)
Perception: 1→ (cost 10)
Science: 1→1+1 (cost 10)
Survival: 1→1+1 (cost 10)
Empathy
2→ 2+1→ 2+2→ 3 (cost 300)
Animals: 0→1 (cost 10)
Comprehension: 1→1+1(cost 10)
Intimidation: 1→1+1(cost 10)
Persuasion: 1→1+1(cost 10)
Subterfuge: 1→1+1(cost 10)
Remaining exp: 260. Confirm?
“Yes. Ok, I think I got it. Now, bed.”
XXX
Initiating connection… success.
Retrieving archived conversation.
Issac: Hazza! The Dark Knights are Vanquished and Peace is restored to the land!
Ice Queen: Congratulations, you are heroes one and all.
Ice Queen: Cutter, can I get a more solid estimate? I have a spreadsheet to fill and an invoice to file.
Cutter: Iron hand forces assaulted seven different sectors within Nu’Grav, the strongest of which used Tier 3 weapons using tier 2 power gauntlets. Approximately 30 units of power armor were destroyed by Issac alone, while Harris and I destroyed a further 10.
Harris: My friend on the force says the NGPD lost nearly 20 men taking down a single unit of power armor. That has to be worth a bonus
Ice Queen: Tier 0 and 1 officers against a tier 2 power armor with tier 3 weapons. A massacre is the only outcome. This is why we are here. Had they agreed to the price determined in the agreement they would have lost far less.
Cutter: That’s a bit cold Inlee, even for you.
Issac: She is our Queen of Ice and Gold, shall we begrudge her for what she is?
Cutter: Issac…
Ice Queen: It seems your therapy is working Issac. You are starting to see the world with adequate clarity. Shall I schedule a few sessions for the rest of the team. The copay is 1,000 credits per hour.
Cutter:…
Harris: Yeah, that’s a no from me Inlee. I’ve got other thing I need my credits for.
Ice Queen: That brings us to our next issue. The average set of Empower Gauntlets cost 3000 credits for a pair at Tier 1, and 10,000 for a Tier 2 set. Current estimates are that over 50 pair were used. Tier 2 power armor usually costs approximately 10,000 credits, and Tier 3 weapons vary heavily but usually are 30,000 credits at the low end. Current estimates have several million credits worth of weapons and gear unaccounted for. Mars Corporation is in full damage control right now, seeing as most of the serial numbers point back to them.
Harris: I bet those toga wearing meat heads are praying to Jupiter for all they’re worth that something big comes along.
Ice Queen: …
Cutter: Inlee, that kind of money does not fall from the sky. Any idea where the Iron Hand got it?
Issac: What words do the cursed helm of the golden handed general speak. Surely every bolt in his twisted form must be haunted by a multitude of stolen souls. Their words shall guide us onward.
Ice Queen: Surely thy wisdom is great. Cutter, in Common please.
Cutter: One of the Iron Hand members wore a pair of golden Tier two empower gauntlets, and they were practically a walking exo. Most of their flesh was scooped out to make room for more machine. I bet Harris’s paycheck he either knows where the money came from, or it came from him. Custom gear like that isn’t cheap.
Ice Queen: I will look into it. Which section was he in?
Cutter: Cerulian sector.
Ice Queen: I see. I will be in touch. For the time being get some rest, but keep it quiet. No benders, and no epic quests.
Harris: I’ll do my best, no promises.
Issac: For the Lady of Ice and Gold I shall lay aside my blade.
Ice Queen: Good enough, I suppose.