Novels2Search
Paragons of the Collective
Ch. 13 My Kingdom for a Gun

Ch. 13 My Kingdom for a Gun

John sat in the darkness of Will's apartment. It was early morning. The light hadn't yet penetrated the privacy glass of the living room. He changed position, placing his hands behind his head and studied the ceiling. While the plush couch was more comfortable than anything he had ever had the fortune to sleep on, he had been awake for a few hours. He could hear Will's light snores through the door across the room as he watched the minutes tick away on his internal interface.

He wasn't the least bit tired. On the contrary, he felt an energy thrumming like background noise. It was just barely perceptible and just as quickly forgotten. Dismissing, the sensation he considered the plans for today. Last night they had covered the layout of the Crow Manor and the tentative plan for the heist. John wasn't sure why the armor was so important to Will. Apparently, he had a small cache of armor and weapons within the apartment. It was enough for John that he could become an Outlaw on this quest and finally get himself off world.

The barest glimmers of light filtered their way into the room and John roused himself from the couch. He stood slowly and padded his way into the kitchen. He didn't bother putting his plain boots on. Will had already told him that he would be getting some upgrades this morning. He walked towards the rectangular, white appliance in the kitchen. Will had called it a refrigerator and John had since been enamored with the excess that the item represented. For most of his life, John had only eaten the tasteless, dehydrated food that everyone else could afford. This refrigerator was something else. Will needed it because he had to keep actual food from spoiling. Opening it allowed the cold air to lick against his skin and he relished the feeling as John searched its contents. Perusing quickly, he snagged a silver bag of fruit juice. John wasn't quite sure what it would taste like but there were quite a few in the fridge and John could surmise that Will enjoyed them so they couldn't be that bad. Placing the plastic bit in his mouth, he sucked some of the juice out as he had seen Will do. It was delicious. An explosion of flavor took over his mouth in a saccharine wave. He finished it quickly and then tossed the drained bag in the receptacle.

The dull whine of the bag being vaporized was followed by the sound of the bedroom door opening. Will muttered as he zombie walked from his bedroom. Light began turning on around the apartment in response to his shuffling. A savory, rich smell began to permeate the kitchen as Will entered and John was surprised to see a steaming mug of some black liquid poured from a small appliance next to the fridge. John moved out of the way as Will drew closer to the substance with single-minded purpose. He grabbed it with both hands and brought it to his face like it was a drug. John chuckled at the sight of the usually taciturn Will cradling the drink and inhaling the vapors coming off of it. He received a bloodshot glare from Will for his trouble. John raised his palms is a silent, mock surrender.

It wasn't until Will had finished the first cup of kaffe (as he dubbed it) and started on the second before Will was in any state to communicate like a rational human being. John watched and waited bemused as he drank another bag of juice.

"So kid, are you ready to get outfitted like a real Outlaw? Well, at least as much as I can with the stock I have here in the apartment. Luckily you're about my size, and I have some gear that will fit you."

John smiled broadly and tried to tamp down his enthusiasm. "I'm excited to see how many of my skills transferred over." Will looked at him over his cup of kaffe.

"That all you're excited about?" He raised an eyebrow for emphasis.

John looked down abashedly. "Nah..I'm excited to have some new gear too. I've only seen Peace Keepers and the like with any real armor or weapons."

Will chuckled and let the kid off of the hook. After all, he was excited when he first got his first piece of gear as well. It was under considerably different circumstances, and the equipment that Will was giving to John could be attained from any local pawn shop. It wasn't the best or the most expensive, but it would do to sneak into the manor. If they were lucky, not a single shot would have to be fired. As he was musing, Will put his mug down on a counter and made his way to one of the blank walls in the living room. As he got closer a sensor surreptitiously nestled in the ceiling scanned his body and read his biometrics. As soon as he was a foot away from the wall, a small hiss was heard and the wall split in twain. John followed behind Will and at his approach, a warning flashed in Will's interface. He dismissed it with a gesture and beckoned for John to follow him into the now revealed armory. It wasn't a large place, barely more than a closet but it had always sufficed for this insignificant bolt holt.

On racks around the room, sat all manner of weapons. A myriad of handguns, shotguns, and rifles took up residence next to bladed weapons and staves. The sheet variety was more impressive than the quantity. On dimly lit shelves, different types of armor were stacked neatly for easy donning. All of the gear brought a host of questions to John's lips, and Will silenced them with a look.

Will gestured expansively at the shelves and racks within the room. "You're allowed to pick anything, but I would be careful what you bring out of here. Remember that we're on a stealth mission and that the intent is to break in and not to raze the place to the ground." He paused to give John a meaningful look which John returned unconcernedly. Now that he was actually around weapons, he felt old instincts from his time as Jonny surfacing. He turned a critical eye towards the shelves and began weighing the choices in his head.

Seeing that John was carefully listening, Will continued. "Alright, you pick out your weapons and then I'll help you select clothing and armor." He paused as he considered. "Actually...do you know anything about armor types?"

John just shook his head as he began to inspect the different bladed weaponry. Watching this Will began to explain the armor system.

"Ok, there are three types of armor. We refer to them as classes, and the reason we have different classes centers on the use of Psionics. The most basic class is the Dream Class of armor. It is made primarily for those gifted with Psionics. Since the beginning, Psions have noticed that synthetic or artificial materials within their clothing and armor interfere with the Psion's ability to channel their brand of magic outside of their bodies. For that reason, they usually don't wear any of the heavier classes of armor that are available for Outlaws and Warriors." As he was talking, Will was showing John the various pieces of gear he was talking about.

John didn't think the armor didn't look very different from the clothing he was already wearing. It was apparently made of more exceptional materials, but it wouldn't stop a blaster bolt or a sword any better than what he was already wearing. He said as much to Will, and the man chuckled.

"Psions usually walk around with a shield made of energy around them. In addition to reducing any incoming damage, it can also allow them to survive the rigors of space and other hostile environments they may find themselves in for a short period." He tapped a finger to his chin, a favorite tick.

"In fact, Outlaws may get the short end of that particular stick. Magic users can make shields broad enough to survive almost any environment. Of course, when they run out of magic the shield is gone, and they become a lot more vulnerable. Warriors get to use Assault class armor, and that turns them into veritable tanks. Since they don't rely on psionics, they can load up their armors will all kinds of ballistic armor, self-healing apparatuses, and damage reduction subsystems."

He noticed John hefting an eastern-style katana and testing its balance expertly. "We have it much worse in some ways. Our armor, Trade class, is more technologically advanced than Dream class armor but also not quite as powerful as Assault armor. Theirs are packed with all kinds of technology, but they're usually built as a unit because of the expense. The tradeoff is the modularity. Ours usually consist of a durable underlayer with places for attaching different components based on mission set. This allows to quickly transition from something like a heist or information gathering to a full-blown assassination. The unpredictability and adaptability is our force multiplier against other classes."

He looked over at John staring intently at a gray, metallic bracer as if trying to divine its function.

"Careful, kid. You'll shoot your eye out. There's a small groove where an energy bolt will shoot out once the bracer is keyed to its user."

John looked up excitedly. "Hell yeah, can I use it?"

"I said you could use anything." Will shrugged.

Stolen story; please report.

Will examined its stats.

Ruger LCGc

“The Ruger LCGc consists of an aerospace-grade alloy firing mechanism nestled within a carbon nanotube gauntlet. Once keyed to the user, it can be linked with the user interface to set up automatic firing patterns.” 1-Hand, Energy.

10-20 Damage

1.5 Attacks per Second

He wasn't sure what the acronym meant, but he surmised that the lower case "c" just meant "cheap." The gauntlet itself did look pretty impressive. But something in his gut told him to put the weapon back down. It felt more like a gimmick than an actual weapon. Will just had a shit-eating grin as he put it back where he found it. It seemed his hunch had been correct.

Looking around the rest of the room, he felt his gaze drawn to one weapon in particular. Or rather, a pair of them. They were two hefty revolvers. He put his thoughts to words.

"Hey, are we going to be fighting at any range?" 

WIll's grin faded as he considered how to best answer the question.

"If we end up fighting at range then the whole point of the mission will be moot. We are just there to sneak in, grab some of my things, and get enough points to get off the planet." He shrugged. "That being said, you might need something with range when we leave the planet, and we aren't going to have the luxury of buying weapons beforehand. Our eventual goal, the fringes of human-controlled space, has weapon sellers but their vastly overpriced to take advantage of people like us." 

John almost reconsidered the revolvers, but instead, he settled on them. He picked them up, one in each hand, and studied them. They were lethally beautiful. Their completely black bodies gave off a blue metallic glint as they poured into grey polymer grips. The textured grips fell perfectly into his hands, and their weight was nonexistent. He could see various points on the revolvers that were bare. The weapons seemed incomplete without any trappings like sights or guidance systems.   

With a casual flick of his hand and press of a button near his thumb, the cylinders slid silkily out of their recesses and displayed a variety of color-coded ammunition. He found that with just the right movement of his wrist he could get the cartridge to flip to a different round and then seal itself back into the recess. He noticed that a small light indicator on the back of the revolver showed him what round was currently chambered. 

"What about these?"

"Oh, those. Those aren't bad. They're a little underdeveloped compared to some of the other weapons." Will gestured at a stack of rifles. "Those have a few more upgrades to boost their stopping power. But again, the revolvers aren't bad. They're smaller and just as modular as the larger weapons I have." He walked over and took one of the weapons out of John's hand and studied it. 

"If I remember correctly, it has a few different kinds of rounds even like this. It should have flechette, high explosive, flash, and flame rounds outside of the normal ones." He looked up into John's face and noticed the excitement.

"But look...most weapons have those, and they aren't smart rounds in the revolver. It doesn't have any system for syncing up with your user interface. You would have to aim and shoot them yourself, and we don't have time to train you like that."

John became alarmed. "No! I'll take them anyway. You won't have to teach me to shoot them, I promise! I feel like I already know how to anyway." He reached out for the second revolver and Will quizzically gave it to him.

"Ok, kid. I said you could have anything. We probably won't even get the chance to use them." He dismissively turned away from John and started rifling through a crate on the far side of the room. His voice echoed from inside the container.

"I need to find you a bodysuit that fits so that we can start putting some general Trade class armor on you. I also have a spare set for myself around here somewhere until we can steal my actual rig from the mansion." 

"Aha!" He pulled a gray bodysuit from the crate and held it aloft. He spun around so that John could see it. "What do you think?"

John put the revolvers down and drew closer. He quickly inspected the garment. "I'm not sure what to think. It's uh...gray." Will sighed heavily.

"Yes. It's gray. How observant of you. This is damn near magical. It helps regulate your temperature, deflect some kinds of ammunition and energy attacks, and even keep you safe in the vacuum of space!" 

John tried to search the material for any sign of its life-saving properties. Finding none, he decided just to believe Will. He did happen to notice small grooves on the article where it looked like more could be added on to it. He pointed at one such place.

"What are these?"

Will positioned himself so that he could see what John was referring to.

"Oh, those are the attachment points I was talking about. This whole thing can be upgraded. It's the base layer of Trade class armor, but essentially the sky is the limit for what it can eventually do." He gave John a sharp look. "It costs a fortune."

John started and drew himself upright. "Oh, yeah. Thanks!" He quickly snagged the suit from Will and moved to the far side of the room. He promptly changed over from his clothes and into the bodysuit. It was loose at first and he easily able to put it on. It draped off of him like it was partially melted. The sleeves fell past his hands comically, and he looked to Will in barely concealed despair. 

Will looked up from his bodysuit as he completed changing over as well and chuckled at John's plight. "Watch this." He smacked his palm onto his chest and immediately the suit began to retract and fit itself across his frame. The material was skintight except around the genital area where it looked like the suit provided extra protection for obvious reasons. 

Aping Will, John did the same thing, and his suit began to simultaneously crawl up his neck towards his face and also tighten around every part of his body. The sensation was eery and quite uncomfortable. It stopped just below his jaw, and he could feel the suit rise up the back of his neck until it ended where his skull met his spine. The sleeves rewound themselves and flowed like water until they coalesced into gloves and boots on his feet. He picked up one foot and then the other to allow the suit to complete its transformation. 

Just as the suit finished, he heard a cold voice in his head. Finally! 

A sudden and stabbing pain radiated from where his skull met his spinal column and John fell to his knees in response. He let out a groan as he threw his hands over the site on instinct. He could feel something growing. A small, hard ring felt like it was pushing from beneath his skin and through the bodysuit. He couldn't see but Will let out a gasp as black spread like ink from where John had cupped his hands on his neck. It flowed from the areas swiftly and encompassed every part of the suit like a tidal wave. By the end, his entire bodysuit was midnight black. 

The pain receded, and John was filled with a kind of unholy strength. He stood up and stared down at his body in awe. Not only had the color changed on his suit, but more radical changes had been made. Muscles had seemed to overlay themselves over his entire body. Where before he had been a solidly built but under-muscled man. Now he could compete in any aesthetic bodybuilding competition. Looking even closer, he saw that the suit had gone from a matte material to one that was made up of slightly reflective hexagonal cells. There were black metallic rings that protruded from every joint. In order, he found them on his wrists, elbows, shoulders, hips, knees, and ankles. Holding his arms up he discovered that his knuckles had been reinforced. Turning his arms, he found that his elbows had been strengthened as well. In fact, every place he could conceivably strike an opponent had been reinforced for that specific purpose. 

After studying himself, he looked up at Will. Confusion and awe were evident in his face. "I didn't know they did this! This is awesome!" He gave a literal jump of joy. "You could have warned me about the pain though." He looked over at Will with a massive smile on his face. It slowly faded as he took in Will's expression.

"What?"

Will came closer without saying anything. He began to study the suit intently. "Holy shit. This isn't supposed to happen." He muttered something else intangible. "This looks like a military-grade suit." What the actual fuck is happening to you kid?" He drew back confusion and some fear evident in his eyes. "First the anger, then how keenly you picked up a technique that should've taken you ages, and now this." He moved further back and placed his hand on a weapon. The action looked instinctual rather than thought through. 

John wasn't sure what was going on, but he placed his hands palm up in surrender. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about, and I don't know what's going on right now. Why don't we talk about this?"

Will's hand settled on the grip of a pistol, and he looked down at his hand in surprise. Pulling it off the crate it was resting on; he brought it to bear on John. "Tell me what is going on right now!"

John didn't move. His entire attention fixed on the barrel points directly at his face. He tried once again to reason with Will. "I...dont...know. I was directed to you by Collective, remember?" 

The mention of Collective, made him lower the weapon slightly. Instead of being pointed at John's face, it was now aimed at his chest. After a moment of thought, he dropped it even further.

"You're right. Collective did bring you to me. It thought you would help me accomplish a mission and it thought I could help you get a class. That's it." He stared down at the pistol meditatively in his hand.

"I'm going to get you geared, you're going to help me break into this mansion, and then we're done." He looked determinatively into John's eyes. "After this...we're done. Too much weird shit has happened around you. I'll be damned if my freedom, my way of life, or my chances of success will be damaged by a nameless like you."

There it was. The slur dropped like Will had been saying it his whole life. It fell so easily from his lips that John wondered if he had been saying it his whole life. It was as if the kindness and the genuine helpfulness that Will had displayed had dropped away as it had never been there. What was left was incongruous with what John had thought of Will. Instead of kindness and almost a brotherly affection, he saw the cold glint of ambition. He saw the distaste that Will held for John. It was the look of someone who would use an ignorant nameless for his uses and not give a damn about what would happen to him. In short, it was the eyes of an Outlaw and John wondered if he would find that same look on his face.

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter