Cephalic Courier 1

An ongoing story serially posted at the forum for Trese Brother's Games
Set in the world of Cyber Knights RPG
Written by shards

Trese Brothers Forum

2:30am and I'm wired on cramshot. There's a quantum cryptochip fused to my spine that is in turn wetwired to an internal circuit complex containing a metric slagtonne of Yakashima paydata. And there's three guys following me.



Maybe I should have asked why they had me going to some next place in Copley Square- particularly when they could have walked there their damn selves. Maybe I should have asked what the data was, or who wanted it. But cyber knights don't ask questions. That's part of the job.

These guys think they're being subtle but they're about as subtle as a half-blind mutant grizzly in a cyberware shop. I keep my eye on them in the reflections of store windows. Who are they- Yakuza? Doubts. Valentinos? The guy in front looks like a hyperpunk wired on H. Whoever they are, this isn't their turf, and they're almost as nervous as I am.
"Excuse me lass, do ye have the time?" A perfectly kind and gentle young man asks me from a street corner. Fennians. Slag.
"Sorry!" I reply, brushing past him and jumping over an inconveniently-placed foot that I might have tripped over were I not so dexterous.
Two more guys appear from around the corner.
"No," the man behind me reports, "it's ye who's going to be sorreh, me darlin'."
More than instinct tells me that there's gonna be bullets coming. "Scorpion!" I yell. "Cover fire, now!"
"Frag this!" The man behind me shouts as I hear the ptoomph of a silenced sniper rife from across the street.
"Clive!" I shout to another man, ten paces behind Scorpion. "Intercept them!"
I turn my attention to the two men in front of me and pull my Saadr Assault D from the holster hidden underneath my trenchcoat. I can't suppress a grin as the look on their faces turns to blank terror. TAK TAK. TAK. Done.
"Knight!" I hear from behind me, drawing attention from my well-deserved self-satisfaction. "A little help would be nice!"
I turn just in time to see a Fennian bruiser, face red with pinpoint pupils, hurl an evil looking club crackling with electricity too close to Clive's face. It misses, but I can tell that he's not taking it well.
Ptoomph. A brick explodes into powder.
I never relish having to run into an open street in the middle of a gunfight but my runners are better to me alive than dead. Clive's too busy dodging to set up for a good swing and misses by a kilometre. I kneel on the dividing line and level my weapon. TAK. I decorate the side of the Stuart Street Mission with bits of skull and brains.

"Here. Take these." I drop more than the recommended dose of pax into Clive's shaking hand. He pops them dry.
"Next time, more bullets, less drugs." He grumbles.
"You knew the conditions of the job when you came to me, runner."
He grimaces but says nothing. Scorpion remains his usual stoic, silent self.
"We're here." I tell them, mostly to alleviate their distress. I bound up the steps into the office of the housing complex. The maître d' looks at me like I just crawled out of the river. "I need an uplink, fast." I command. "I have a hot file for you."