Here we go! Now things are going to get really interesting!! Again a big
"arigato" goes to my friend and partner in mayhem Beni P. for ideas on Ru
Shu Kwan and violence in general. If you are pleased/outraged/indifferent
by this or any other part then drop me a line, but for now sit back and
delve once again into my vision of MegaTokyo.......
SKOL!!
Ian. (Ian.Heath@student.kuleuven.ac.be)
Gift any (super?)natural ability which a Garou learns.
For eldra (Old Norse) ancestors.
Apocalypse (2007 2027) supposedly the end of the world, known as
Ragnarök by the Get. In fact a series of natural and man made disasters
which decimated the world's population. The Second Great Kanto Earthquake
was one of these.
Kinfolk humans or wolves who have the Garou gene but not in the active
form, but are immune to the Delirium.
Lamentation For The Lost.
Part 3
The shadow of the AD Police helicopter swept low over the urban
canyon that was Wreckers' Alley, shells of buildings stood as silent
testimony to the impact of the Second Great Kanto Earthquake, leaning
shattered against each other like broken teeth
"Whisky 12, anything to report?" a disembodied voice came over the
intercom.
"Negative, Dispatch, looks calm from up here." the pilot replied,
scanning his FLIR and Mag Res sensors.
Jan Anders padded softly from his position on the rooftop,
thankful for the gift of Blissful Ignorance, the chopper had been hovering
barely twenty feet overhead yet had seen nothing. As it peeled away,
towards the AD Police tower he took up position by the fire escape, his
powerful Crinos form was the least subtle of the five he could adopt, but
for this task it was perfect. If need be he could rip through a cement
wall with his bare claws, or bite clean through a Boomer's arm. His black
lips twisted in to the feral snarl that passed for a smile, revealing rows
of ivory fangs. A huge scabbard hung diagonally across his back at a
length of some seven feet, with another three feet of ornate hilt poking
out.
Looking to his left, over the main road to which the alley
adjoined, a garishly neon lit four storey building peddled its wares.
Nobody really cared about this part of town, and it seemed like a living
nightmare from which many would never wake. "CHROMIUM HEAVEN" the sign
proclaimed in its incandescent glory. It was unusual to see an illegal
clinic be so overt about its operation, but it had every right to be.
According to Alex it was in fact a GENOM run affair, as well as dealing
with the unfortunate a nd the downtrodden, it also had a clinic on the top
floor which catered for those with exotic and not to mention illegal
tastes in cybernetics. Alex thought that GENOM might be fuelling the
Wreckers intentionally in order to foil his plans, and as a rathe r
unorthodox form of quality control for Boomer parts. Any Boomers that got
destroyed in the field would be scavenged and returned to GENOM R&D for
assessment.
He hoped that Alex was in position, unlike many of his tribe he
was not afraid of getting his hands dirty from time to time, a legacy of
his years spent as an industrial terrorist The plan was of devastating
simplicity, he was to storm the building and e radicate any resistance.
Alex meanwhile would be in the Umbra, soliciting the aid of the Weaver
spirits of the building, and possibly helping them escape before their
home was destroyed if they were not Wyrm tainted. He would then set the
fire alarms off before blowing the whole building sky high with what he
called "Slater specials". These were bombs filled with a highly corrosive
compound which would eventually ignite on contact with air. Any solid
objects which it hit, it would react violently with pro ducing enough heat
to ignite flammable objects, and even cracking concrete! Jan Anders knew
that at this moment he was probably in the basement where the boilers and
oxygen cylinders were stored. From the spirit world Alex could just about
go anywhere, he could get in and out unseen. He on the other hand
preferred the more direct, brutal approach.
Jan Anders felt the surge of rage that thrilled along every fibre
of his being. He was a modi, born under the power of a full moon, he
craved battle as junkies craved their next fix, and if it were not for his
self discipline he might have found it there and then, even if it meant
taking a few innocent lives along for ride. It was a hard feeling to
describe, even to other Garou; an unending lust for war.
"Honoured for eldra, guide my claws in battle." he growled softly,
almost in a whisper.
He glanced once more at the building, the set up was perfect, his
Crinos paw reached for the hilt of his great klaive and slowly grasped the
leather bound grip, the muscles in his forearm twitching in anticipation.
************************************************
Sylia permitted herself a slight smile, the plan was deceptively
simple. The mysterious assailant was not just a mindless killer, he had
been targeting the Wreckers who worked for Chromium Heaven. According to
Fargo, they had gotten a bit jumpy of late a nd were on the verge of a
mass exodus. She was dressed in a tailored black business suit, with
matching skirt and blouse. For the bait to work, she had to appear as a
professional cyberoid assassin looking for the latest in prosthetics. She
would lure the Wreckers after her, and wait for the mysterious combat
Boomer or whatever it was to show. In case things got too heavy for her to
handle alone, the other Knight Sabers were on watch nearby. All she had
needed to complete her cover was a shoulder holster containing a silenced
Beretta automatic, and a pair of sunglasses. She dropped a gear, and
guided her Mercedes roadster around the wreck of a burnt out saloon.
Her face resumed its normal placid, cool aspect as she pulled up
in front of the clinic, drawing admiring glances from the assembled
crowds. She killed the engine and opened the gull wing doors. Immediately,
the air conditioned comfort was replaced by t he oppressive stickiness of
the MegaTokyo night.
"Ah! Miss S. I've been expecting you'" an oily voice exclaimed.
She scanned the gaudy entrance, to find the owner of the voice. It
was not too difficult, there were three figures framed in the entrance.
The speaker was a small, wiry man who appeared to be in late middle age,
his thinning hair was slicked back with ge l and a broad grin split his
thin features as he regarded Sylia. The other two looked like his
bodyguards, and were clad in ripped T shirts and denims, although they
were nowhere near the size of a combat Boomer, they still gave the
impression of being cy bernetically enhanced .
"Good evening," Sylia answered in clipped tones, "I trust one of
those gentlemen could guard my car for me while I'm inside, it would be
very unfortunate for your business Mr. Hayashi, were it to be stolen!"
The older man looked visibly hurt be this comment, "There's no
need for veiled threats Madam, we are all at your service here!" He turned
and gestured to one of the guards, "Tab stay here and guard that car with
your life gottit?"
"Yessir"' the goon responded. taking up position by the car.
Sylia fought the urge to smile, Fargo had done a good job of her
cover, and she quite liked the idea of bossing these low lifes around. Her
face however betrayed nothing as she was led into the building by Mr.
Hayashi.
***********************************************
Jan Anders froze like a gargoyle on the rooftop where he lurked.
Were he in his natural homid form and looking hard enough, he might have
recognised Sylia. But in his present form higher thought was more linear
and less creative. All he saw, was a potential Wrecker statistic and that
was all he needed to see. He stepped off the parapet into the darkness,
landing cleanly with a muffled thud on the alley floor, some four stories
below.
************************************************
"Where the hell's Sylia!" Priss complained, leaning against the
remnants of a fallen ceiling, this whole building was structurally unsound
but it provided the best cover and the best overall view of Chromium
Heaven. As she peered out of a grimed up window, the optics of her
hardsuit panned to the red Mercedes and zoomed in. There was some goon
standing close by who was obviously armed but posed no real threat.
"We were told to wait for her signal, and keep our eyes peeled for
that Boomer, or whatever it is." replied Nene folding her arms, her blue
helmet nodding as she emphasised Sylia's orders.
"Well I'm bored, why can't we...." Priss' comment was cut short
as they all heard a muffled thud from the adjoining alley, followed by an
eerie silence.
All three Knight Sabers looked at each other, Priss brought a
metallic finger up in front of her helmet in a "quiet" gesture. Weapons
prepped they filed carefully towards the back door of the ground floor
flat which opened into the alley. It was if someone had suddenly turned up
the volume control on the flat, creaking floors amplified to the extent
where the building itself sounded in pain. Priss slowly opened the back
door. and peered out.
"Shit there's nobody here'!" she swore, sounding disappointed.
She turned to head back indoors, as she swung round she almost
collided into Nene, who was standing by her shoulder.
"Jeez Nene! Why d'you always get under my feet"' she snapped. Nene
stood there apparently rooted to the spot, dumbstruck.
"Nene you OK!?" Linna chipped in, concerned.
Nene seemed to snap out of her trance, "Er guys there's something
in the alley and its big........hang on," she double checked her Mag Res
and thermo imager, "omigod it's........ it' s organic' ' "
"Whaddya mean it's organic?!" exclaimed Priss.
"It's the size of a BU-12 but the heat pattern is all wrong!!"
Nene’s brain analysed. the heat pattern. Approximately three metres tall,
most certainly exothermic, a mammal, it’s outline was humanoid, but
appeared to be canine in form. She swallowed as she realised that she was
gazing directly into the snarling muzzle of a creature that until now only
existed in fairy tales and late night horror movies that she used to watch
through her fingers.
"How can y'see it!!" Linna held Nene, trying to shake her out of
her reverie "I can't see it at all!"
"Just show me where Its ugly butt is, " Priss said through gritted
teeth, "and I'll blow it away !" She raised her palm cannon, and aimed it
out into the alleyway.
***********************************************
Jan Anders' muzzle twisted in an exasperated snarl, what were
those two doing here! They had barely opened the door, when he had caught
the pheromone traces that clung to their suits. Each one was as unique as
a fingerprint, and he recognised two of the traces: the woman in the blue
and red suit, by her stance and attitude it had to be Priss; the other
more surprisingly for him was the green suited one, who smelt like Linna.
They didn't need my help at the airport at all, he thought slyly, if these
are t he legendary Knight Sabers! He had overheard them talking, and even
in the mentally impaired Crinos form he knew that their smaller companion
was called Nene. She appeared to be looking at him quizzically, she could
see him he realised, yet she wasn’t goi ng under. Shit, he thought, have
to deal with this another time.
The stand off was interrupted by the sound of muffled gunshots,
coming from the top storey of the clinic. Jan Anders cocked his head
sideways and listened intently, it sounded suspiciously to him like a
suppressed automatic pistol. Nene seemed to hear it also, which broke the
deadlock long enough for him to act.
He exploded from cover, a grey blur of fangs, fur and talons.
Priss had barely enough time to bring her palm cannon to bear, before he
was over the road, giving no time for the Delirium to take hold. If anyone
saw him, they would just forget. Hurdling the Mercedes in a fluid bound,
he flicked his great klaive out of its scabbard in a slicing arc. As it
left its sheath a coruscating aurora of energy erupted around the
viciously hooked eldritch blade, accompanied by an unearthly wail. The
blade impacted with the guard in a blinding blue flash at waist level,
slicing upwards in a diagonal arc to his opposite shoulder. Then with a
growl he stalked through the doors and was gone.
Priss and the others were not far behind, covering the ground to
the clinic in long legged strides. They paused momentarily by the Mercedes
"Guh ross!"' spat Priss.
Linna just shook her head, and Nene looked like she was about to
be ill. They had seen the victims of Boomer crimes before, but this was
pushing the limit. Half the bodyguards torso lay face up on the pavement,
seared pits that were once eyes, staring into finality. Skin and flesh had
charred beyond recognition and an oozing blackened mass slithered from the
defiled thorax. The other half lay not too far away, and it too appeared
to have been scorched in a similar fashion. A nauseating smell of roasting
flesh wafted towards the trio.
"Right let's GO!!" Priss snarled, "we gotta get to Sylia before
that bastard does'!"
***********************************************
Sylia headed for the emergency stairs, cursing her bad luck. The
plan had been working perfectly until one of the bodyguards had picked up
on the fact that she was fully organic. How was she to know that he had
thermo imaging optics' She had shot the bodyguard at point blank range,
and in her mind's eye she could still see the snap of his head and the
tracer of blood as her bullet hit home. His eye had shattered obviously a
cybernetic construct but how much of the rest of him was still human. From
further up the stairwell she could hear Mr. Hayashi directing his
bodyguards.
"That bitch is working for someone! You take the stairs! You two
the main entrance!! I want her alive"'
She jumped the last steps to the second floor landing, Beretta at
the ready. The doors to the second floor burst open and a body was framed
in the doorway with his back to her surrounded with a halo of blue light.
She was about to fire, when she realised that it was already dead, a
wickedly sharp blade emerging from a ragged, charred gash in its back.
Then with the sickening tear of ripping flesh, it slid to the ground in a
crumpled heap. Sylia wrinkled her nose in disgust as she smelt the
smouldering cadaver. Something was standing in the doorway, and it was
most certainly not a Boomer!
Jan Anders looked into Sylia's dark eyes they were still clear
without the glassy panic he was used to seeing of humans under the
Delirium. She knew what she was seeing, which meant that she was either a
kinfolk or very resilient mentally. Since most of the kinfolk had died
along with the Garou in the Apocalypse, and only a few select families
remained to guard the caerns, his money was on the latter. If she was
hanging around with Priss and Linna then most likely she was one of the
Knight Sabers also. Especially as they were staking out Chromium Heaven
from the flats opposite.
Pausing for a moment, his feral brain struggled to come to a
decision. Killing her would remove a witness and repair the Veil, but it
would make an enemy of the Knight Sabers. Besides she could not exactly
tell the police what she had seen, they would never believe her. Besides
the repercussions for her would be severe at least if she were seen in an
illegal clinic. He lowered his great klaive, and breathed deeply trying to
concentrate, speech was difficult in this form.
"Sylia...your friends are further down the building," he stood
aside to let her pass, "now GO and don't look back!!"
As he spoke, she could make out the sound of a firefight going on,
on the floor below. For a moment the creature's grey blue eyes lost their
feral gleam and seemed to regard her with something like compassion. As
she passed it, it almost seemed to smile. Her mind was in somewhat of a
daze, standing before her was a creature from mortal legend, a werewolf.
Its grey furred, thickly muscled body seemed to be perfectly adapted to
the task of killing, with long claws and a powerful muzzle. Runic scar
tattoos stood out against the flesh, the most prominent being a stylised T
symbol, overlaying what appeared to be a severed paw. It's long light grey
mane was tightly braided, and a blaze of white fur ran through it,
tickling a memory in Sylia's mind though she couldn't quite place it. It
seemed to fill the clinic operating room that it had probably destroyed,
equipment lay strewn across the floor as well as the burnt remains of
anyone who got in its way. Two prospective patients of the clinic were
slumped in a corner, apparently alive but unconscious. Up the stairs from
where Sylia had just come, there came a clatter of footsteps.
"You'd better leave now," Jan Anders growled softly hefting his
great klaive once more, "they won't be going anywhere............don't
betray me Sylia."
Sylia did not need to be told again, she made for the swing doors
at the opposite end of the surgery. As she headed for the first floor, she
shivered involuntarily as she heard an eerie banshee wail, followed by the
screams of the dying.
************************************************
On the ground floor, the battle was raging in earnest. Priss,
Linna and Nene on entering the building had found the entrance crawling
with security Boomers, intent on ensnaring Sylia when she arrived. Priss
had waded in with scant regard for herself and was proceeding to do what
she did best, cut loose. Weaving like a maniac, two of the combat Boomers
had fallen with gaping blistered holes in their armour.
"DIE you sonofabitch!" she screamed as the second exploded, sending
a cascade of biomechanical ichor fountaining.
Linna joined the fray, arcing gracefully overhead, her monomer
blades fluttering. She vaulted through gunshots, contorting through
impossible openings in the incoming fire. Around her explosions detonated,
scorching large chunks of plaster out of the walls and charring greenery.
Any survivors in the entrance lobby had huddled behind upturned settees
and kept low, hoping fervently that a stray shot did not hit them. Linna
finished her deadly ballet with a flourish, somersaulting lithely onto the
shoulders of one of the Boomer. To its credit, the doomed creature tried
to prise her off but to no avail, Linna activated her knuckle bomber and
punched downwards with all her strength. The Boomer's head caved in like
an overripe fruit before detonating, rattling her armour with shrapnel.
Linna rode the impact, using it to propel herself toward the next target.
"Now that's what I call a headfuck!" Priss yelled, palm cannon
spitting.
Nene hit cover fast and began selecting targets carefully. Her arm
was still slightly shaky but the Veil was already taking effect, dulling
the trauma and making her forget. Using her lasers, she potted at the
remaining Boomers, scoring the armour but doing precious little in the way
of permanent harm. By now there was one solitary Boomer standing,
surrounded by the blackened debris of its fellows. It assessed its chances
of survival and made the only logical choice, flight verniers sprang into
life on its shoulders and legs, and it made a hurried dash out of the door.
Nene yelped in alarm and snap fired after its fleeing form. By
either good luck or good management the laser blast spectacularly hit one
of fugitive's legs, destroying the flight jet. Imbalanced by the sudden
change in thrust, its damaged leg impacted solidly with the tarmac sending
it tumbling down the street, gouging a deep furrow. Eventually it came to
rest against a bridge abutment its mangled body pulped by its own
momentum.
"Way to go Nene, you actually hit something, I'm impressed' " Priss
commented sarcastically.
"Whatcha complaining about, I got the thing didn't I?" she
retorted, hands on hips.
All three picked their way through the debris as onlookers began
to peek out of the makeshift barricades, making their way to the emergency
stairs. Linna led the way with Priss covering her, Nene bringing up the
rear.
"Careful guys we don't know what's up there!" Nene commented as
they nudged open the door to the stairs.
The landing was deserted beyond the swing doors, Linna gave It a
cautious once over before proceeding inside. Everywhere appeared to be
calm if a little rubble strewn. Dust was beginning to settle over
everything like fine icing sugar, and a preternatural silence lay heavily
on the building. As she looked about she saw two prone forms, the first
was of an unknown goon, the second was chillingly familiar.
"Omigod it's Sylia"' she shrilled.
Sylia lay slumped in the corner on the mid stairs landing,
clutching her Beretta in one limp hand. The heavy was lying face down on
the stairs, rivulets of blood running down the stairs in a crimson
waterfall. Shards of glass impaled in his back were evidence enough of his
demise. Priss barged past and loped up the stairs in two bounds. Sylia was
unconscious but breathing, with only small scratches from flying shrapnel,
the majority appearing to have been absorbed by the shredded corpse below.
"She's okay I think," Priss said with relief, "but she'll have one
mother of a hangover when she comes round'!"
"I'll get the truck," Priss volunteered, "then lets go home, we're
no nearer to finding out what the fuck this thing is'"'
"Didn't you say that it was organic Nene?" Linna suggested.
“Probably a new type of comabat Boomer huh?” Priss suggested.
“Yeah something like that.......” Nene replied nervously.
Their conversation was interrupted suddenly by a cry of primal
terror followed by deathly quiet. They all looked up the stairs pensively,
toward the upper floors.
************************************************
ln his years as a warrior, Jan Anders had met people who deserved
to be wiped out like cockroaches, and this was one of them. He had lain in
wait for Hayashi and his goons to appear in the operating theatre on the
second floor. He remembered with savage glee the look on their faces as he
had broken from cover, the goons had no time even to scream before they
were reduced to piles of shredded smouldering flesh. Hayashi stood before
him, quaking in his loathsome shoes as he sheathed his klaive, his dreams
turned to ashes as surely as his henchmen had been.
"You twisted little shit,!' Jan Anders snarled gutterally with a
great effort of will, "this is the last time yer gonna trade on folks'
misery."
"Don' t kill me please!! I'll do anything......."
"GOOD! Then DIE!!" he growled.
Jan Anders bunched his claws of one paw into a point like a punch
dagger, the other scooping Hayashi off the ground by his lapels in one
fluid motion. He had enough time to scream before Jan Anders punched. His
eyes widened in shock, blood flecking his lips, guttering as his diaphragm
was ruptured. The Garou had channelled all of his anger into that one
blow, the punch ripped through Hayashi's deadweight, snapping his spine
with the same ease as stepping on a dry twig. Jan Anders pulled the body
off him with a grotesque slurp. It fell to the floor and lay in a slumped
mass of flesh.
"I see your having fun there"' a familiar voice called from behind.
He turned to see Alex standing there, clad in a black polo neck,
leather jacket and jeans, a broad grin on his weathered craggy face. Under
one arm he was carrying a bundle of clothing, and in the other two items
which at first glance resembled black plastic briefcases. He dropped the
clothing at Jan Anders feet.
"I came up from the basement," he said, "seems like one of the
Knight Sabers got herself a little shaken up. If it weren't for some goon
standing in the road, she'd a been sushi. The rest o' them pulled her out.
Fire alarms are due in three minutes so I'd get dressed quick!"
Jan Anders form dwindled, his aspect becoming more human as he
shifted. Wiping the worst of the smeared gore off with a theatre towel, he
dressed quickly. In all likelihood it would be destroyed in the ensuing
firestorm. Alex busied himself with setting, the plastic blocks near to
the oxygen outlet hoses in the wall.
"Good job I disabled the phone lines just in case," he said
ruefully as he punched in a combination on the blocks' numbered keypad,
"okay they're set!"
"What about the those guys?" Jan Anders pointed to the two
unconscious bodies.
Alex strode over to them and quickly examined them, pulling up the
sheets. A look of repulsion crossed his face before he lowered them again.
He looked up at Jan Anders his face grim.
"Put these poor fuckers out of their misery.......gas gangrene the
pair of them . Seems like they poisoned themselves with too many
enhancements' You can take a look if you want but it ain't pretty!"
Jan Anders finished dressing quickly, lacing his combat boots up
he hefted his Great Klaive, now reduced in size to something more humanly
manageable and stalked over to the prone forms. Disgust melted to a look
of pity.
"You poor deluded fools, why?" he asked softly to noone in
particular.
He stood between the two bodies, his grip reversed on the klaive
so that it pointed to the ground. He raised his arms so that the
shimmering, moaning blade was parallel to his shoulders then swung
through. Two blinding flashes and it was over, nothing left but ashes.
He strode over to the oxygen and nitrous oxide hoses and ripped
the fittings out of the walls, immediately gas began to fill the room.
"Right lets move!" he barked, sheathing the great klaive once more.
They were half way to the ground floor when the fire alarms went
off, an ear splitting klaxon wail that had the pair of them cringing. From
beyond the doors they could hear the sound of people stampeding to get
out. Opening the emergency doors, they joined the flow of panic stricken
cyber junkies as they pelted headlong for the exit. Once outside, they
picked their moment to break from the crowd and head for the quiet of a
nearby alley. Further down the road, a large truck was pulling away
towards the heart of MegaTokyo and traversing the road in a long diagonal,
a churned up furrow of tarmac ending in the shattered, burnt-out hulk of a
combat Boomer
"Bye Bye Wreckers!" Alex said gleefully as he produced a radio
pager from his pocket and pressed the button. Instantly the building
rumbled then blew apart in a churning whirling inferno, scattering
fragments of masonary like dried chaff. Any intact windows of the
surrounding buildings were blown into glistening shards. In the distance a
siren could be heard.
"Shit.' Someone must've used a phone booth." Alex cursed, "C'mon
lets get the fuck out of this dump!"
The two of them ghosted out of the alley and rejoined the
thronging crowd, heading in the same direction as the vanished truck.
After a few minutes a whole AD police squad screamed past, sirens blazing.
One man gunships swooped over the wreckage, probing for any sign of life,
human or not. Following closely behind were two rapid deployment emergency
tenders of the MegaTokyo fire department. The two Garou walked in silence,
stepping over comatose bodies and wreckage, each lost in his own thoughts.
************************************************
To be continued..........