[HG-PBEM] Weekly Summary 7
- From: "Dennis D. Kirkpatrick" <dkirkpat@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: apaworks@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Mon, 14 Apr 2003 22:35:32 -0600
The Shoals of Bankruptcy: Part 7
Mar. 30th - April 14th
-----
In the back of the Sand Stone
"Just like riding a sand hopper," Tina whispered to herself as she
skirted the rooftop opposite of Chagall. "You never forget."
She didn't have many rounds left in her "borrowed" weapon, but she
wouldn't need any more... she was trained to be as efficient as
possible. She could make due with one a couple of rounds.
Moving towards the south side of the roof, Tina begin to slowly cut
to the north, hoping that the gunman might be caught by at least one
of the GREL on the roof.
As she moved, she could hear more feet shuffling. The sounds gave
away that there were two persons seeming to steal away between the
two GRELs, amid the maze of rooftop obstacles.
After a short while, the shuffling stopped, seeming roughly thirty or
so meters from Tina's position.
Slowing her approach, in an effort to keep from making any noise, Tina
continued to move towards where she heard the shuffling.
There was a startled yell, clearly by two people. Chagall's voice spoke
up. "Freeze or die." Tina heard the sound of a body crashing down
against sheet metal.
Quickening her pace, Tina closed in on the Chagall's voice and the
sounds of the scuffle.
"//Why didn't she just open fire?//" she thought to herself as she
crossed the distance, coming in closer.
As Tina rounded the corner, she saw Chagall standing over two very
frightened streetrats. She had disarmed one of his knives. The female
only cowered against a boiler stack.
"These are not the gunman," Tina said. There was a twinge of
disappointment in her voice. "He's probably half way to Port Arthur
by now."
She turned and started moving back towards the ladder, lowering her
weapon. That was when she spotted something strange on the
rooftop nearby. Picking it up it was a piece of paper folded up to look
like a pair of praying hands.
She held the paper up, so that Chagall could see it, saying, "Not the
most subtle symbolism."
Chagall snatched the oragami from Tina's outstetched hand. Looking
at it intently.
Then, she continued on her way. She was getting light-headed from
the massive amounts of blood she had lost and was losing her
patience with the day's events.
Once they were back in the alleyway, Chagall handed Tina the same
paper, now unfolded. "Looks like you've found a new nemesis," the
Morgana added coldly as she continued on ahead of Tina.
Reading the paper, Tina read the scrawled down message. "Where 'o
where, could my sweet GREL be. Dead, dead as dead can be."
Tina smiled at the message before heading inside to find medical
attention.
-----
In the Transrail Oasis Hangar
"Outta the Way!" Keavy yelled, trying to be heard over the noise of
the Antelope's engine. She thought about slowing down but there
was the matter of the grenade behind them. Instead she just pressed
even harder on the accelerator and plotted her course through the
guards.
Terry ignored the guards as his attention was focused on the ninja
behind him. He squeezed off shot(s) at the man hoping one would
connect and drop the fellow by the grenade.
Terry's shots ricochetted all around the fleeing man, but were unable
to connect as the man darted around the corner. The grenade still
rested in the center of the corridor, unexploded.
"Call the police?" He asked.
"Sounds good. Grab hold of something." Keavy yanked the wheel
over to one side and skidded the Antelope around a corner. The
vehicle rocked wildly, its high center of gravity not well suited to high-
speed turns. The front tires hit something and bounced, skidding into
another direction.
Keavy, hands gripping the wheel, fought to turn into the skid,
something she learned on the badland rally circuit. Unfortunately she
wasn't as good with the Antelope as she was with her gear. The
Antelope spun a tight 180 degrees and managed to stop short of
sideswiping a building.
Keavy brushed several loose strands of hair out of her face and
grinned up at Terry. "Admit it. You love this stuff."
"Well I don't travel with you 'cause of you're looks." Terry joked back,
reflexively trying to get out of reach of her retaliatory strike. She was
devastatingly attractive actually - doubly so where speed is involved.
"Methinks the MMs are going to get away. No tingly tingly of the
spiderous ganglea." He said as he leaned out the window to watch the
ineffective guards fan out and waste their time searching.
Strapped into her seat, Keavy was unable to reach over and smack
Terry for his comment. "Listen to the lip I get from my Boytoy." she
said as she unbuckled herself. The girl then slid out of the Antelope
and walked around to the hood of the jeep. "At least they didn't seem
to take anything, well not that I could see," she said as she positioned
her hands similar to the thieves. Keavy pulled herself up and tested
her balance as if she was going into a handstand. "That was quite a
move that he made. It takes quite a bit of training to do a hand vault
over a moving vehicle. That guy was no common cutpurse. I wonder
if Rohgen would know anything about him."
"Omigosh." Keavy said suddenly. "Rohgen! He ran into the gas."
She jumped into the driver's seat and put the Antelope in gear. "I hope
that he's alright."
-----
In the Redliner's Hangar
A week and a half had now passed since the shooting incident at the
Sand Stone. Nearly half the team had suffered gun shot wounds.
Fortunately, most of them were minor. Matsuo Luong from Blue Team
had suffered the worst injuries, still being in critical care. He had been
admitted to the hospital in the Transrail Oasis Tower across the Core.
Everyone was now assembled for an important team meeting that the
Colonel had called earlier today. The Colonel, Jezebel, Chico and Clara
were still out of the room. However, new to the team, the young gear
pilot Diggs William had arrived the day after the shooting and had
spent much of his time assisting Felicity, Sasquatch and Lyle Devous
in getting the remaining Gears repaired and reassembled.
Also present were Keavy, Terry and Rohgen, who signed up with the
team a couple of days after their own incident in the Transrail Oasis
Hangar Facility. The two thieves that they had helped chase had
unfortunately gotten away, seeming to disappear into the Oasis
Station's ventilation system and skulk away undetected. The exact
nature of the two men's intent was still under investigation by
Transrail Security. After performing an inventory on their equipment
and supplies, it appeared that nothing had been stolen or clearly
tampered with. At the same time, the grenade had ended up being a
fake, merely meant as a ruse to assist the thief in getting away. It was
clear that the thieves had been highly-trained professionals, likely ex-
special-ops personnel for hire. Transrail Security assured the trio that
a continued investigation would reveal something. At present, their
Cheetah Gear and supplies had all been moved into the Redliner's
hangar.
There was an impatient air in the hangar. Gustav, Chagall and an
injured Jonus all took perimeter near the doors leading out of the
hangar. At that point, the far door open, and the missing four entered
the hangar.
Holding out his arms, the Colonel called out. "Thank you for your
patience. I am sorry that we are late. We were going over, er,...
business issues."
He, his wife, Chico and Clara all stopped at the foot of Shamus'
Iguana, which had been reassembled and now stood upright. "Let me
get to the point," the Colonel continued, clearing his voice. "As you
know the team paid for all your medical treatments. Clara and I have
been going over the books, and---"
"What's going on?" Jaana Czeshin interrupted. There was a chorus of
voices that echoed Jaana's question.
Jezebel squeezed her husbands hand as if to assure him. "Well, to put
it bluntly," the Colonel answered, gesturing for people to let him
continue. "We're broke. Completely broke, I'm afraid."
"Stop me when any of this sounds familiar." Terry whispered to
Keavy and Rohgen. In all their adventures through the badlands
they'd often been low on money. Only when they got serious about
gear racing did they slowly start to build up any kind of real savings.
"Oh it definitely sounds familiar." Keavy replied as she fidgeted a little
in her seat. All of the contract fuss to find out that the team had no
money. She blew and popped a bubble with her gum. "Nice time to
find this out too."
"They've been running on empty for a while now." Terry said quietly,
"Suffice it to say the medical bills had nothing to do with them being
broke. I'm starting to suspect that all us new people are part of some
desperate rescue plan."
"Then we'd better put a plan in place and do something about it."
Terry said, "We have a race coming up in a couple of weeks we need
to practice for and gears and people to fix in the meantime. Unless
you want to run a really big bake sale or form a rock band and go on
tour we'd best stick with what we know and hold it together for that
race."
Why you inane asshole," Chico burst back at Terry, moving forward.
"What do you---" The Colonel grabbed Chico's arm.
"Chico, that won't help," the Colonel instructed.
"It appears" Terry said quietly to his friends, "That commonsense
comments aren't appreciated either. As far as first impressions go, I
continue to be disappointed."
Keavy jabbed an elbow at Terry and gave him a stern look. "Play nice
now, Ter."
"I am. They're the ones" He nodded at the others, "That didn't tell us
they were broke when they hired us."
Juliette, leaning on a cane to help support her injured but healing leg,
arched one of her dark eyebrows. "What are you telling us?" she
asked, looking directly at the Colonel. "Are you dissolving the team?"
The Colonel looked startled for a moment at Juliette, before giving a
nervous chuckle. "Sweet Prophet, no!" he exclaimed.
"Then what?" Jory returned, moving to stand closer to Juliette.
"And what about my Clan's money?" William asked. "Where did that
go? Surely, it didn't all go to pay for the medical expenses?"
More people started firing back at the Colonel. The squat man held up
his hands. "Please, let me continue." The crowd reluctantly quieted.
"Thank you," the Colonel continued. Looking at Terry, he continued.
"We aren't dropping out of racing. In fact, we are scheduled to
participate in the upcoming Bulwark 1000." He looked toward Diggs
William. "The Digg's money is what helped secure our participation in
the upcoming race."
Another bubble pop. "Bulwark 1000. Sweet." Keavy briefly smiled at
the mention of the race before she got serious again. "What about
Mother Superior? We aren't going to have to put up with any more
gangsta-types sniffing around here are we? I don't like being a target
outside of the race track."
Juliette nodded in agreement. "Can we expect more attacks?" she
asked. "What reason do we have to believe that this Mother Superior
won't try something similar again?" Somewhat naively, she added,
"What about the authorities?"
"Authorities?" the Colonel replied, seeming befuddled at the question.
"This is Khayr ad-Din. There are no official authorities, unfortunately.
Except maybe the Transrail Authority. However, I have worked to
secure further aid from,... another source," the Colonel admitted. "I
can't be more specific than that, but, to answer your question, we
shouldn't see anymore attacks like those in the Sand Stone. Bishop
Xavier has been dealt with appropriately." The Colonel seemed
specifically suscinct on that last statement.
"I'm still a bit confused" Rohgen confessed to himself. "Why would
they bother doing this to us? A racing team? I thought they were just
a punk cult group of damaged people who have a thing for drugs and
sex."
"I don't understand what you mean," the Colonel replied, seeking
clarification.
Seeing the opportunity, Rohgen innocently added "what would they
care about us for, we're in the sport entertainment trade and I've never
even met their devil, Spider". "Hell, they have yet to even try to
convert me", Rohgen tried to sarcastically feint disappointment.
"Anyone else experience a conversion attempt? And what does this
Brother Xavier have to do with it?"
Jezebel's on gaze Rohgen grew cold and focused. Clara let out a cough
as though she had choked on something. A mild sweat appeared to
glisten on her skin.
Rohgen decided to end off with a hint to anyone who may have seen
through the feint and jab. "I only ask this 'cause now my butts
involved in this too".
Chico raised an eyebrow and looked at the Colonel. "He's worried
about his safety."
That should drop the hint that I'm looking out for not some other
person, and me in this now obvious cloak-and-dagger routine, Rohgen
thought.
The Colonel nodded at Chico's conclusion. "I don't what you mean by
'conversion attempt'," the Colonel responded to Rohgen, "but I can
understand your concern. First, I don't see how the Xavier was
interested in you earlier. You weren't a part of our team till after the
attack in the bar. As for hereafter, like I said, he has been dealt with."
Lemanz sighed. What had she gotten herself into? "If this place is
lawless," she returned, "What's to keep them from striking back? For
whatever you had done to Xavier, if nothing else." Disgusted, she
added, "I don't enjoy being caught in the middle of some kind of gang
war, especially when we weren't told about the risks up front."
"Xavier crossed a line," the Colonel answered back. "The desert
winds are shifting. Things in the Core are changing. I can assure you
of that. I made a promise to you in contract, and I intend to keep that
promise." His gaze scanned everyone on the hangar. "I need you all to
trust me over the next few weeks."
Keavy snapped her gum again. The incident in the bar and the stories
that the crew was telling of meetings with the Bishop began to worry
her. She was used to conflicts on the track but this seemed to be a
different and more dangerous game altogether. She stole a quick
glance over at Terry trying to read his reaction. He was always better
than her at reading people and had a sensible head atop his broad
shoulders.
Terry's head was bent forward and lazily fell to one side. Tina was
standing
in front of him and he was looking at her calf - through it actually with
an unfocused gaze. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and
mouthed some noiseless words before twitching involuntarily. His
right had opened and closed a few times. Keavy knows he's a leftie,
but prefers to shoot right for some reason. He's worried.
"How could you go after Xavier and his cronies without money?"
Terry asked.
The Colonel gave a distinctive pause. Looking at Terry, his gaze
wasn't malicious but rather unfocused. "Money isn't everything that
makes the
world go around, Mr. McMartin," the little man finally answered.
"Fair enough. How was it done then?" Terry returned.
"Politics, Mr. McMartin," the Colonel dropped without missing a beat.
"Was it the Spider?" Sasquatch asked plainly.
The Colonel's face went deadpan. He then frowned. "Best to leave
some things in the shadows for now, Sasquatch."
"Seriously, I'd like to know how it was done," Terry pushed.
The Colonel was clearly annoyed at being pressed on this. "Are you
familiar with the Gallows Pool, Mr. McMartin?"
"Gallows Pool," Terry answered. "Hmmm.... No, can't say I'm familiar
with it."
Chico spoke up, stepping forward toward Terry. "What is it to you
how the Bishop got dealt?"
"Chico," the Colonel snapped. "Enough!"
"Isn't it obvious? I'm very concerned where my friend's safety and
mine are at stake. I'm even more concerned when I have to press so
hard to get simple answers to these questions. Let me put it another
way: Why aren't you answering my questions? Why are you telling
me that our security isn't worth talking about? How can I do my job
effectively if I have to worry about looking over my shoulder? There
are linked issues here: Existing enemies the Redliners may have -- all
of which you failed to mention during negotiations -- and the
resources we have available to deal with them."
"About the Gallows Pool, please continue."
Chico glared, clearly fumed. "You and your friends? You selfish,
arrogant ass," he returned Terry's rebuke.
"Sometimes you have to be selfish," Terry acknowledged.
The Colonel sighed. "Terry," the man called out, his voice pleading. "I
can understand your concerns for you and your friends, but you'll
have to understand, I have to worry about more than you or your
friends. I have the whole team to worry about. I clearly underestimated
the Bishop, but he is no longer a problem. There were people involved
in his disposal into the Gallows Pool that must remain anomynous for
all our safety." The Colonel voice grew stern. "I would ask that you
not press me further on this subject."
"If you don't want to answer, that's fine. In that case I'd like to know
about what other enemies the Redliners have that we should be aware
of. Tomorrow I have to go visit arising trideo star. I don't want to be
facing the media later explaining why he - or the rest of us for that
matter - died off the racing track."
Others in the hangar were growing agitated and began interrupting
each other, pressing the Colonel and clearly sharing part of Terry's
concern. The Colonel settled into the team's rhetoric and arguments.
"Perhaps, I can explain more later, but for now I want to move on from
the setbacks of the past days, weeks and months," he declared.
"Specifically, to Mr. McMartin additional concerns," the Colonel
continued. "Other than Mother Superior and her other bishops, there
are none."
He then looked at Chico who had stepped back, clearly still agitated,
and then his wife. "Moving on, dear?"
Jezebel looked at Chico then addressed the team. "As some of you
may know, we have an opportunity to secure a significant revenue
stream from a prominent trideo studio in Port Oasis. If we can land the
contract, the Redliner's will be able to meet its revenue demands and
pay you the seasonal salaries that you are expecting." Her eyes fell on
Terry. "Terry, you and Chico are scheduled tomorrow morning to meet
with the studio agents and the trideo star that want to strike the deal.
"Who is the star?" Keavy asked, her mood brightening considerably.
Now the conversation was moving into territory that she was familiar,
and more comfortable, with. "And what do they want with the
Redliners?"
"Sebastian Chance from the Port Oasis," Jezebel answered. "His father
is Randall Chance, one of the most popular and enduring film stars on
Terra Nova. Randall Chance was made famous for his leading role in
'The Duellist' twenty cycles ago. Apparently, they are casting
Sebastian for a remake of the original series."
Keavy smiled dreamily. "Ooo. A remake of The Duellist. I wonder if
they need a leading lady?"
Chico spoke up. "I also want Clara to attend that meeting as well. I
believe that her skill with numbers will be important. Those Port Oasis
lawyers will try to bleed us like a hunter vine."
"That's fine by me," Clara answered.
"Good, very good," the Colonel affirmed. "This is really important."
He gestured to the array of Gears filling the hangar. "Our Gears are
ready for the time trials scheduled in a couple days, but we need more
cash to secure the spare parts necessary for repairs and maintenance
in the actual race." His eyes fell on Rohgen. "This will be your chief
task, Rohgen. Your resume claims that you are an excellent salvage
expert and capable of improvising. With the few spares that we have
on hand, Hanna and her pit team should be able to handle the time
trials if any issues arise, so you'll need to go and deal with the Trash
Queen and secure us what we'll need for the race."
"Ei-ei, colonel" Rohgen snapped back, ignoring the insinuation that
he had been lying on his resume. "I just need to put together a list of
what needs to be done and what I have to work with" he continued
his eye's shifting towards Keavy and Terry "...and for my next trick I
may need my beautify assistant and a volunteer"
"Right," the Colonel acknowledged. "Felicity, Luc and Tina can help
you with that following the meeting."
"Sure thing," Felicity chimed. She and Tina had been standing behind
most everyone leaning against the wall.
To those familiar with his temperament, Shamus had been surprisingly
quiet throughout the meeting. The very model of self-restraint, even.
Only
those team members standing closest to him could make out his
clenched fists and overhear his muttering "Can't say something nice --
don't say nothing at all. Can't say something nice -- don't say nothing
at all," over and over to himself.
Hanna spoke up. "I'll also need to work with all the pilots and Silas to
do prep work for the upcoming time trials."
"Very good," the Colonel responded, clasping his hands together.
"Unless anyone has anything else, I think we all know what we need
to do over the next couple of days."
Tina, who had been silent during the entire meeting, chose this
moment to speak up, saying, "I would request that we be provided
sidearms to assist in the protection of team assets and personnel."
"Likely a wise precaution under any circumstance," the Colonel
shrugged. "What you choose to carry is up to you."
Chagall spoke up from her post at a nearby door. "I have a cache of
sidearms. Being a sister GREL, I'll let you choose one to carry if you
wish."
-----
A short time later in the Hangar
To those persons familiar with his temperament, Shamus had been
surprisingly quiet throughout the meeting. The very model of self-
restraint, even. Only
those team members standing closest to him could make out his
clenched fists and overhear his muttering "Can't say something nice --
don't say nothing at all. Can't say something nice -- don't say nothing
at all," over and over to himself.
Hanna spoke up. "I'll also need to work with all the pilots and Silas to
do prep work for the upcoming time trials."
"Very good," the Colonel responded, clasping his hands together.
"Unless anyone has anything else, I think we all know what we need
to do over the next couple of days."
After the meeting, Shamus headed directly for Hanna. "Prep work for
the time trials, good. I need to ride." Instead of being infuriated, he
seemed more demoralized than anything else. All he wanted to do was
race, and nothing was turning out the way he'd thought. This readily
apparent weariness made him look even older than his teammates than
usual.
Juliette Lemanz was at Rodriguez's side as he addressed the pit lead.
Lemanz hadn't gotten to know the older gear pilot very well, but she'd
liked what she'd seen of him so far, despite his rough exterior. He
seemed to have his head on his shoulders and have as little time for
nonsense as she did.
"I'm ready as well," Juliette declared. "My leg is strong enough, I
think," she added, feeling the dull throb of the wound beneath the
skin-tight material of her desert suit.
Shamus nodded at Juliette. They hadn't talked much beyond their
introduction, but Shamus was glad to have more pilots around. He
was impressed by her record as a Southern Republic duelist, but
secretly had some doubts about how well she would adapt to Gear
racing. In a stand-up fight she could easily crush him, but civilian
Gear racing and military dueling were two entirely different worlds.
Still, she seemed like a quick study, and if she was as calm and
resourceful on the track as bar fiasco war stories made her out to be,
she just might make it. Watching her progress was one of the few
things Shamus was looking forward to, and he hoped that it would in
some way make up for the string of disappointments and shattered
expectations that he'd experienced since joining the Redliners.
"That's great," Hanna acknowledged toward both Juliette and
Shamus. "We shou--"
"I'm a little anxious to get moving as well," Keavy unintentionately
interrupted. My little Blade needs to be walked." Keavy said as she
came up behind Shamus. She was trying to address Hanna but kept
on sliding her eyes towards Shamus. She couldn't believe her luck.
She was going to be racing on the same Team as Fastlane Rodriguez, a
duellist that she had
liked to watch race when she was younger. It was a real thrill to
actually see him in person.
"Uhm..Mr Rodriguez." She started to say, trying hard to remain cool.
"I just wanted to say that it is a real honour to be racing alongside
you. "//Don't sound like a giddy fangirl//," she said to herself several
times. "I mean I used to watch you when you raced the...well before
your accident...and you were always great to watch. I even saw you
live one time at this arena in...I made a sign and everything.." Keavy
dropped her head when she realized what she was doing. "Gods, I
sound like a giddy fan girl don't I?"
Shamus seemed a little taken aback at this, his mouth reflexively
slipping into the trademark cocky "Fastlane Grin" that once dazzled
the crowds. "You know, you're the first one among the younger
members of the team to recognize me. Not that I can really blame them.
That was a long time ago, and Gear racing has always been a sink or
swim kind of business. I also look kind of different. You may have
noticed," he said ruefully, absently running blunt fingertips over the
faint scars on his scalp.
Hanna smiled. "Yes, it is good to have a racer with your knowledge
and experience, Shamus."
"And it's not like you've changed that much," Keavy added. "I had no
trouble recognizing you."
Shamus shook his head. "Mighty kind of you so say so, hon, but I've
only got to look in the mirror to see how much this mug has changed.
And as for experienced, well, that's just another way of saying 'old.'"
Jory and Billy had now walked up at this point as everyone dispersed
into their own tasks. Hanna looked at Jory's shoulder. "How's it
holding up, Jorelle?"
Jory frowned, looking down at her sling. "The sling eases the pain,
but I can use the arm without it. Imagine my luck with a the bullet
breaking my collar bone along with hitting an artery." She looked at
Juliette. "Not as lucky as you."
"I don't think any of us were particularly lucky," Juliette returned. The
pain and stiffness in her leg certainly didn't //feel// very lucky. She
allowed a slightly crooked smile to grace her attractive face. "Except
for Shamus and the others who missed the fun. //They// were lucky."
"I should've been there. I knew something was up with that Bishop
clown, but I just let the team security chase him off without a second
thought."
"Hey I almost got blown up by a grenade and nearly rolled my
Antelope." Keavy added with a grin of her own. "I had my fun."
Hanna raised her eyebrows. "Sounds like we all had a real blast, eh?"
She looked at Billy. "See all the excitement that you missed, kid."
Billy shrugged. "I'm feeling pretty good from my vantage point," he
returned. "'Course, I'll confess that I'm worried about the team. My
clan father would be furious at the Colonel. He clearly lying about
something."
"A businessman lying? I'm shocked!" Shamus snorted, cynical. "I
don't trust the Colonel as far as I can throw him, and I'm doubtful I can
even pick him up. This team's deeply tangled up with organized crime.
But you know what? They ALL are. Gear dueling and racing has
been corrupt from day one. The only difference between this team
and another is that usually the management is skilled enough to keep
it from interfering with the talent."
Juliette listened quietly, mildly annoyed by Keavy's bubbly
personality and genuinely interested in what Shamus had to say about
gear racing. Unlike many of the others, this was no lifelong dream of
hers. This was a last resort; this was a means of putting food on her
plate with the skills she'd learned in the Republican Army. The idea
that the team was somehow mixed up in organized crime was extremely
distasteful to the woman, but since coming to the Badlands she'd
quickly learned that things worked very differently here than in Port
Oasis. Still, she wanted to know more. "What do you mean?" she
asked. "Tangled up how? Is it worse than debts the Colonel owes to
Mother Superior?"
Shamus shrugged. "Don't ask me; I just work here. They don't tell
that kind of stuff to the hired help. It's common for Gear racing groups
to interact with a little with organized crime groups -- ya know, grease
a few palms here and there to make things run more smoothly -- but
Khayr ad-Din is a whole other ball game. When Bishop Xavier
showed up, I figured it was just your standard scam for protection
money. But from what little the Colonel has spilled, it looks like he's
trying to play both sides against each other. Borrow money from the
Priesthood, then call in Saddik the Spider when they try to collect...."
"Seems like a very dangerous game to play," Juliette said coolly. "It
will be a happy day when we can leave this place."
"Well, if we can place in this race," Hanna interjected. "We'll be able to
do just that."
She gestured toward the array of Gear in the hangar. "For now, we
need to get ready for tomorrow. We get a walk-through of the course,
so the mechanics and crew can make any last minute adjustments that
you may require while we're doing that. I'd recommend first that you
make sure that your Gear's systems are working up to spec. Gesturing
to Jory, Hanna continued, "Also, we need to know now if any of the
injuries incurred will affect our operations, so I want to run some
simulations in the pits."
-----
Elsewhere in the Hangar
Rohgen had stayed back from the movement of the crowd at the close
of the meeting. Here he was in a strange city, a lawless one at that.
There were clearly corrupt lawgiver deputies apparently being bought
and sold for Prophet knows what. Already, he'd witnessed seductions,
thieving, criminal violence, worthless law enforcement, tear gas,....
Working for the Redliners was working out to be an adventure indeed.
As he was lost in thought, Lead Mechanic Esperenz approached, her
red hair bouncing, with one of the GRELs named Tina. "Rohgen, you
got a moment? I'm sure that you need to go over the list of supplies
and parts that we need." The petite woman cast a glance at Tina.
"Though, I thought I should introduce you to Tina, our Electronics
Specialist. She needs to join you for certain specialized components."
"Hello."
A streak of green disappeared under a table. "So, what's it like to be
such a beautiful shade of purple?" Rohgen said with a warm, friendly
smile while admiring the GRELs musculature. "I'm very happy to go
scrounging in the pit with you." He said as he held out his hand for a
friendly shake.
Tina shook his hand, stiffly. At least she was being paired with
someone on the team who didn't hate GREL.
"What specialized components are you talking about? Does this mean
we have a To-Do List done up?"
"Ms. Esperenz provided me with a listing of everything we require."
"Yes," Felicity affirmed. "You can download the list from Tina into
you own PDA. Clara told me that the Trash Queen is expecting you in
the morning, and that our account is clean with her. You shouldn't
have any trouble getting the materials on credit."
"If there is a problem," Tina replied, facing Felicity, "I'm sure that Mr.
Rohgen can cover any costs we incur."
Turning towards Rohgen, she asked, "Ready?"
"Absolutely! Lets get going." Rohgen enthusiastically stated. The
Pits are his home. He grew up near there. His family live near there
now. Oh, how he could go for one of mom's home cooked roasted rat.
"Perhaps you could meet the family, if you like. My mother can cook a
tin can in such a way that you want to eat it. I swear, it's a super power
or something! They live near by in the Core. I've got Elan if you like
we could car pool."
"Uh," Felicity interrupted. "You might want to gather your pit crew to
help out. You'll need more than an Elan to transport the supplies back
here."
"I will retrieve them," Tina announced, heading off to recruit the help
of the pit crew.
Felicity watched Tina walk away and then eyed Rohgen. "Anything
else you think you'll need?"
[End of Part Seven]
*********************
Dennis D. Kirkpatrick
Littleton, CO USA
ddkirkpat@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
http://www.bluething.org
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