Cyberpunk II 2786A.D. Las Vegas.

I made a mistake, I don’t remember what it was but I did it. I’m kind of ticked off the mistake landed me here. The reason had been so dear to me but like my conscious it has vanished from me.

The shuttle ride is soothing, Vegas twinkling with the promise of adventure and the possibility of blood being spilt. I just hope the bloods not my own. The cryo hadn’t bothered me much, it was the pe3ople who had decided to wake me up who p****d me off. But wait it just got better, apparently I was being punished by being employing as the police. Just hearing it now cracks me up, punishing me by sending me back to my career, funny.

So here I was decked out in some gear, these people thought suited me and would be most certainly comfortable. I couldn’t say they were wrong. I follow the order to disembark reading the back of a girls pants in front of me.

“He, he, snort,” I can’t help myself. What kind of law enforcer walks off a shuttle ready to battle with sweet cheeks written on her butt.

I let them all file out a head of me. I can do most of what I need to on my own. I’m a slow worker and I like things my way. There is no way anybody would want to hang around with me. There are days when even I can’t stand the sight of myself.

 

"Don't.... ever.... call me... 'sweet cheeks'... again."

"Tell ya what..." The whiskey is hitting me good. I can feel my legs getting soft and this cigar has to be the the best thing I have ever tasted in my life. I almost want to eat it.

All I need now is the company of a beautiful woman, well, I'd settle for a not-outrightly-ugly woman in my current state.

"...Why don't you and Candice here finish your drinks, enjoy the night life, live a little..." I stagger to my feet and point at the scar on the Asian girls chest "before you die a lot"

 

"Lies? I asked you a question." I said, and allowed a bit of anoyance to shine through. "So you've been here before? You know where these crime lords hang out?" I asked, the anoyance gone, he seemed unstable, but controlable, as long as it was with in his set way of thought. The smile was still gone, the voice came out, mellow. "Now pehaps we can be of use to each other here, no need to go around... ripping off heads or anything. You don't seem like a dumb guy." I said and felt worried that this guy knew his way around, that would mean that he's important enough to risk getting involved with, and that meant I'd have to be careful, unstable and violent.

 

“I have a better idea,” I say, finishing off my drink, “how about if we get some sleep.”

The drink is hitting me and combined with the fact that I’ve been dragging tail ever since waking from cryosleep I just want to get a solid eight hours of unfrozen slumber. Maybe twelve hours. Whatever.

 

"Ssssomewhere in my vague memory I know where they hang out," Micheal said, "They hang out in the Darkzone Alley that isss their meeting place, then they go to the Juke Corner Nightclub, and then they hide on Moriano'ssss apartment...sssomewhere in my mind I believe I know Moriano...I might be able to get in the apartment."
Micheal looked at the ground again and he placed his hand through his silver hair making it a bit of a mess. Micheal looked at Jonathon for a second and they looked back at the ground.
"You remind me of the ground," Micheal said.

 

“how about if we get some sleep.”

Ok now I know I have had too much to drink that 'we' she said is giving me all kinds of ideas, some of which even involve me getting lucky.

Now I might be drunk but I am not stupid.

"I tell you fine ladies what, I'll spring for your room if you promise to meet me for breakfast, how does that sound?"

 

I kept a plain face but didn't like him talking about me and the ground, to close to him talking about me and a grave for my liking, I couldn't help but ask further. "Ground?" I said and then thought threw the other information he had given me. Poor memory of his past, might have a freind or enemy in the city, hisses(which annoys me some but is a minor nusance), and seems to be a violent person.

"And do you think this Moriano, is a friend?" I added, this guy sure gives information about himself to easily, I could use this against him if nessiary, I'd have to find something more substaincial though, at least I had something, Pasha was a mystery.

 

“I have a better idea, how about if we get some sleep.”
That idea sounds great to me. I'm still feeling kinda sluggish from the cryo-crap, and it would probably be a good idea to sleep it off. Pink-shirt... or Vector, I suppose, looks totally sloshed, and Tolva actually doesn't look much better. I think being on ice hit her a little harder than it hit me... but it still sucks. I take another big swallow of my drink, finishing most of it, and stand. I open my mouth to mention the credits we were issued, and the possibility of getting rooms here at the casino hotel, but pink-shirt beats me to it. "I tell you fine ladies what, I'll spring for your room if you promise to meet me for breakfast, how does that sound?" I glare back in his general direction.

 

Vector. So he’s not giving up a real name, either. Fine with me, I wouldn’t have known who he was anyway.

“That’s okay,” I tell him, “we’ll take care of it.”

Last thing I need this guy thinking is that he pays for our rooms and gets a key for his trouble. He doesn’t sound like he thinks that…exactly. But the hungry way that he keeps talking to my chest makes me think twice about letting him pay for too much.

Separate rooms, you bet. Kiara's thinking right along with me.

“And I suppose we can meet you for breakfast.”

Cripes. When I stand up the whole room tilts crazily. I start to wonder if I'll make it to a room.

 

"I have no friendsssss.....Moriano jusssst hasss what I want and I want I needed at the time....I usssee him he issss my puppet," Micheal said, "Or at leassst that issss what I remember."
Micheal looked at the ground his eyes moved quickly as he looked at every crack.
"You remind me of the ground becaussse you have cracksss in your foundation....which makesssss it easssssy to lie to you," Micheal said with a sneaky smile.
He then began to laugh a strange snakish laugh. Micheal looked at Jonathon.
"Am I a good actor....I musssst be," Micheal said.
Micheal looked at Jonathon with another sneaky smile.

 

“And I suppose we can meet you for breakfast.”

I give 'em a little wave and head for the doorman. Well a room and some chick called Buffy and that ends my credit run.

This is gonna be the best nights sleep I have ever had.

 

Great so now I bet this whole senario was a big falicy. He was definatly crazy, and thus uncontrolable. "You seem to be having fun with your games, so it might be best if I left you on your own. You don't seem the type to need anything or anyone anyways." I said coldly, my eyes revialing a bit of the anger inside me. "Though I hope you'd concider the danger you put others in, calusly spouting off tails." I added and took a nurvius step back towards my temparary ally Pasha. "

So Crazy man number one needed to get the hell out of dodge before he became a danger, if that happened, I'd have to handle him, or at least get someone else to handle him. "But lets try and keep our relationship... on solid terms shall we. The names Jonathan, what's yours?"

 

For the past three nights I've had nightmares of being sent back to cryosleep. In the dream I know that this time, unlike normal cryosleep, I will be conscious. Conscious and utterly helpless for the remainder of my sentance. I wake up stifling screams when I have those nightmares of my eyes stretched wide for hundreds of years...

Kiara and I manage to get up to our room. We decided on one for the safety in numbers. Besides, I hate the idea of having her disappear again. I know it doesn't make sense but there it is.

I'm almost too tired to stand up and pretty much just crash out on one of the beds. I manage to get my boots off before lying back bonelessly.

The alcohol took the edge off of everything, including my anger. I may actually be able to sleep. I may be able to stay ahead of the nightmares tonight.

 

"You better be careful...I never sssaid that my wordssss were liessss trusssst me," Micheal said, "I am more ussseful to you then you think."
Micheal this time stared at a very bright light.
"My name issss Micheal Venom SSScot," he said.
Micheal stared Jonathon. He was obviously being played and he didn't like it. Jonathon also had to be careful. When Micheal wasn't in a very good mood it gave Micheal the incentive to kill, whoever pissed him off. Micheal was a lot stronger then what he looked like.

 

I head to the nearest watering hole. What better place to get all the local gossip? As I’m entering seems the crew I got dropped off with is leaving. I manage a smile and wink at little miss sweet cheeks and continue in. I scan the locals, boring! Then he appears and I think I’m in love. Chuck Norris look alike covered in tats that say “look at me I’m one of those guys that beats old ladies for their hand bags.” I’m patting myself on the back. He’s dressed in leather and on his back theres a monogram proudly reading the rodents. I’m planning on introducing myself when he walks over.

“Hey baby, which crack house did you crawl out of.”

How romantic.

 

"You told me I was easy to lie to, and then asked if you were a good actor, which, by any normal persons reconing, would tell them that you had lied." I said reasonably. He had already lost my trust, and would not be getting it back, I took another step back towards Pasha. "Mind if I call you Venom? It seems to fit you the best." I said with a rather calm, and thoughtful voice, thinking of the venom that came out every time he talked. What a fool, ruining a perfectly good partnership.

I didn't wait for an awnser, I turned away and walked over next to Pasha to finish our conversation, thinking that venom had better watch himself in this city, not everyone was as kind as me, though he might be of use latter.

 

Spencer was inwardly still reeling from shock. Outside, he appeared himself; calm and collected. Inside, he was shaken. Physically, because the cryo chamber hadn't treated him well. Whether it was simply a sensitivity to some of the chemicals, or just being immobile for twenty years, he didn't know.

But worse than that, he had now been suddenly spared from a universe of torment. On that day, now years ago, he had watched the city crumble around him. He had watched as Fox was buried helplessly beneath layer upon layer of rubble....

And he had ran.

Like a coward, he had ran away. That decision, made by reflex, haunted him for the months he had spent before being arrested in Canada. He threw himself into whatever he could to forget it, until he was reduced to a common thief. Once he was caught, he was given a form of unconscious release in the cryo chambers.

And what should be the first thing he saw upon emerging? The very object of his pain, back from the dead. He could say nothing to her, but only nod in agreement to her.

Trying to push the shock aside, he took stock of what he had. His glasses were still there, thankfully, as was his wardrobe. The others hadn't been as lucky. His shotgun had been upgraded slightly to reflect the times, and he had been outfitted with plenty of ammo, and....

Hmm. Someone had apparently done a background check. Just as he noticed, he heard the voice of his new companion. He held out the pack of cigarettes to Nomad, who accepted gratefully. They lit up. Spencer breathed in the taste, letting it calm his agitated nerves.

"Let's start at one of the small-time biker bars." He said.

 

"I lied to you about the ground," Micheal said not really caring about partnerships or not, "But I do know Moriano....I'll call him anyone have a phone?"
Micheal looked at Jonathon with a very cold looked. The problem was that Jonathon and him weren't compatible. Micheal liked to be in command or at least in control, but it appeared Jonathon was taking his role. Micheal didn't like that and that is why Micheal stated what he did. Jonathon didn't know what being a leader was like. He only thought he knew what being a leader was like. Micheal began to laugh snakishly again as he fathomed what Jonathon was thinking right now. It was a war of who would become leader him or Jonathon.

 

"Their should be a pay phone near by." He said calmly, still facing towards Pasha. Their was something wrong with this guys head, I had obviosly choosen to end the conversation. Perhaps it was part of his insanity. No matter, he seemed less of a threat by the second, as he now began to laugh to himself. "I'm betting you could get ahold of him easily, I doubt he forgot and individual as... Unique as yourself. If you get ahold of him let me know." I added hoping to get him to do something useful if he insisted on bickering with me. I wasn't one to be drawn into a fight I wasn't ready for. Though I might have to prepare for this fight, it seemed inebitable.

 

Micheal moved his eyes as fast as he could and then he saw a payphone across the street. He wasn't going to do this for Jonathon he was going to do this for his freedom.
Micheal walked across the street. He didn't want to be near the big one or Jonathon. Micheal didn't even look for cars as he walked by. He walked up to the pay phone and stuck his hands in his pockets.
No change. He had forgotten. Micheal disappeared in the back of an alleyway. It smelled of rotten garbage and dead rats. A homeless man sitting near his change cup was fast asleep. Micheal grabbed the cup and took the change leaving the man nothing, but a penny.
Micheal walked back to the pay phone, put the changed in and dialed Moriano's number.
"Hello," said a very straight and edgy voice.
"I need to ssspeak to Moriano," Micheal said.
"Sorry no can do," said the voice.
"Lisssten here Acer...thissss issss Venom now you put Moriano on the phone now or elssse," Micheal said.
Micheal was put on hold. He finally heard the voice of Moriano and a German mafioso, whom Micheal singly handed blackmailed.
"Venom what a pleasant....."
"Having a party tonight?" Micheal said cutting Moriano off.
"Yeah,"
"I'm bringing friendssss you better be there or elssssse,"
Micheal hung up the phone before Moriano talked his ear off. While still looking at the pay phone Micheal placed the thumbs saying it was okay now and that it had all been set up.

 

After wondering around the small city for a little bit, they come upon a run down hotel, with a bar at its base colled Biker's Haven. It looks like a hang out for some of the local bikers. Fox and the other two walk into the bar and sit at the stools in front. There is a commotion in the back, by the tables. Fox turns to see two bikers pushing around a waiter, and demanding a discount for not destroying the place. The bar keeper walks up to Fox and asks what she wants to order. She whispers "Come a little closer." He leans towards her, and her tail springs around and wraps around his neck. He looks pretty suprised. Fox turns to look at the two bikers and then turns back. She whispers to him "Free food, drinks and a room for the night, for me and my friends, and your problem goes away. Understand?" The man simply says "Deal."

Fox stands and walks back towards the two rather large men. They look like your cliche bikers. Leather jackest, long beards, and they seem to be in their later thirsties or early forties. Fox says "Leave, or die." The one man laughs while the other takes a swing at her. She catches the man's fist with her right hand, and then crushes it. He tries he hit her with his other hand, but her tail quickly wraps around it, and breaks that arm in several places. By now the other one has stoped laughing. Using a metal pipe that he had, he swings at her. She catches it with her left hand, and unleashes a massive dose of electricity. The man's eyes roll back into his head, as he hands refuse to let go of their death grip on the pipe. After a few seconds, what must have seemed like an enternety to him, Fox lets go of the pipe. He falls to the floor, and begins to shake around. The first biker, who Fox still has with her tail and right hand, looks at her with fear. She pulls out her laser uzi and lets out a spray of short lasers through his stomach and chest. She releases him and he falls down, dead. She then shoots the second biker, and he stops his shaking.

Fox walks back to the bar and sits down. The man says "So, what will it be?" Fox smiles and says "To eat, I'll have an order of hot wings, extra hot sauce. To drink, I'll have a vodka and grape juice." He nods and quickly returns with her order. He then asks Spencer and Nomad what they want. As she chews on the tough leather that this place calls chicken, she turns her eyes to look at Spencer. She figured that he died in the blast back in L.A. She is happy that he survived. Its nice to work with someone you can trust.

 

The bar had been officially trashed. I turned and looked to the Chuck Norris look alike, he shrugged.

“rival gang no skin off my nose.”

I nodded if he was cool I was.

“Names Troy if you haven‘t read already I‘m with the rodents, got yourself some wheels?”

“No, but I can get em any time I like, five fingered discount style,” I replied. Troy let out a melodious laugh and I joined in.

He nodded and ordered drinks over the bar. Two beers, yuck I hated the stuff. I drank mine struggling to keep my face straight. Troy gulped his down, “seems odd we’d have new folk coming in. Most people are sane enough to stay away from here. Unless there jumped up on the gear and wanting a fight.”

I nodded understanding what he was getting to, “Well a girl like me has to stay under as often as she can. Any guy I can see might just be asking for their bike back. I‘m not worried about the whole knuckle sandwich deal but when I get peeved I don‘t use my fists.”

Troy laughed again, “You got a gun girl? Your breaking the blonde stereotype I was building here.”

I grinned that was exactly what I was planning. I kept an eye on the crew at the other end of the bar praying to god they weren’t planning another brawl. I couldn’t risk my own cover being blown.

 

As he walked into the shop there was the ringing of a little bell. He looked up at the boobytrap variation and smiled. He'd always loved that, a little boobytrap. He went up to the counter but didn't look at the man who was standing there alone, instead he was admiring the rarity or rather lack of actual guns in this place. This is a gun shop?, he asked himself before he smiled again.

He'd left Fox and Spencer back at the ship after he realized that they all had different plans. All he wanted to do was get the job done and move on. He'd spent the last couple of hours roaming around until he passed by this little shop.

"Looking for a gun, mister?" Nomad nodded, "What ya looking for?" This time Nomad smiled widely,

"M8?" the clerk shook his head, "DE .50?" again a shake of the head, "Okay then, get me the your finest combat knife." This time the man disappeared into the back. Nomad looked around again, the shop was unbearably small and had a damp musty smell which he utterly hated. His faint smile disappeared as he looked at the floor. It seemed to laugh at him, filled with grime in its teeth and old feet in its breath.

As the man came back he put on his smile again. The clerk pulled out a slender double etched combat knife from its leather sheath. Nomad held it, admired it, then tossed it from hand to hand checking the weight.

"It's a little heavy innit?" He looked at the clerk, he just shrugged. It was perfect actually. As Nomad continued to play with the knife the clerk asked,

"Thats 100 credits." Nomad smiled,

"My dear fellow you must have me mistaken for someone who actually has credits. Im afraid that's not the case." He saw the fear in the man's eyes and seized the moment to capture it forever. The knife hardly met any resistance as it cut clean and clear through the clerk's throat. Nomad followed the body as it collapsed behind the counter, smiling. He also eyed a pack of cigarettes behind the counter, ooo dibbs. He took it and lit one. Tasting the nicotine accompanied by the smell of fresh blood he felt alive again. Old habits die hard.

 

"Its nice to work with someone you can trust."

Pythola heard her words and her voice disgusted her. She closed in on Fox.She turned to see from her eyes corner this beautifully attractive woman move slowly towards her. She wore a long red cape and a tight cat suit. To her left a whip hung loosely and to her right hip a pair of blades remained attached to her thick studded belt. She had a smooth face and a bold head except for the long ponytail at the centre base hanging down like a pineapple’s leave’s. Her eyes were captivating and the pupils that of a cats. She wore red lipstick and red make up shading her eyes to her lashes. She stopped with a smile.

She looked at the others and it was Fox her eyes returned to.

Before Fox had realised seven more women had surrounded them all holding guns pointed at the three.

“You ain’t a cop aye yer.” Pythola asked.

Fox stunned by her beauty could barely muster a word.

“Yer dun’t look like pig’s but yer never know. We dun’t like pig’s ‘ere.”

 

I was snickering again, seemed the social girl that had trashed the pub was up for some trouble with the locals. I looked to Troy who shrugged and turned to several men seated at the table.

“Hey noob, give us yer jacket for the girl here. She‘ll need to look the part if she doesn‘t want a whoopen,” Troy said.

A scrawny guy with a sad excuse for a beard passed me his leather jacket. It stunk of cheese tobacco and crap perfume. I wasn’t complaining at this point. The woman was pretty. I pouted I was prettier. Yeah I have high tabs on myself that or a real sh**y self esteem. However she looked like the type that would give someone the flogging of their life then spit on them as they were dying. With the rodents jacket on I felt safer even if they had a crappy gang name.