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Pembroke Gardens was no exception; a blue collar neighborhood with historical ties to the
syndicates of old, it was never short of activity.
Anti-sprawl laws limited local architecture to trees, hills, and low-rise duplexes so if things ever had
to get complicated, they usually burrowed underground and interconnected with the subways, sewers,
and catacombs. Walking about, Marcus could find facsimiles and parallels of small town South Africa
and Australia.
[Sir, have you any place in mind for tonights meal?] his muse asked.
[Not really, Simon. I just feel like walking around for a little bit, enjoy the air.] Hed been sitting still
the past three or more hours ago; he needed both a smoke and a walk. All around him, however, eye
disapproved. Clean air advocates, all of them, they didnt life smokers.
But, [Fuck em.]
He turned a corner and down an alley in New Pretoria St. and Bowlers Blvd. The grid plans were
Dutch clean down this way. Up above, the atmosphere was clean enough to allow a clear line of sight
past the geodesic hexagons and into the starlit night. Even light pollution was stifled at Noctis City,
building codes mandated the exclusive use of LED fixtures. Here, the red bricked walls and soft
emanations reminded him of stills taken from British Columbias own Fan Tan. The place didnt have a
name, just a service lane for the shops out front. He knew a few of the Guanxi here doing work for his
good old firm. The occasional darknet facility was always good for bootlegs or open source product.
[Might I make a suggestion, sir?]
[Go ahead.]
[Your random access feed tells me an old favorite of yours is only fifteen minutes away on foot.]
[And which old favorite would that be?]
Simon didnt even have a chance to answer.
Excuse me, sir? a voice, young and determined called for his attention, Sir? Marcus didnt
recognize it so he ignored it. As he took another drag on his cigarette, the voice persiste, Excuse me,
sir? Apparently, taking the short cut wasnt as solitary a comfort as he thought. The nagging followed
him, becoming more and more urgent until finally, his blood ran cold. Up ahead, an Exalt in NQPD
black and blues reared a concerned head right around the blind corner, fast approaching. Excuse me,
sir? again, the voice.
[Shit.] Marcus swore inwardly as he immediately pivoted on his way far from the local LEO. He just
did not have the energy for this right now. Hed already been warned and censured by small claims.
What followed was a fine bordering on extortion.
As he turned to try and slip away, things came together immediately. Two men in NQPD cuts were
there waiting for him. At a gesture, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Sir, Im sorry, the voice had caught up with him and it was a LEO, but you cant smoke our here
anymore.
[Holy shit, I thought he just wanted to peddle Jesus,] and Marcus was well aware smoking in public
was prohibited.
Sir, I am not detaining you in anyway. Ordinance No. AF8-348 simply asks that you cooperate and
dispose of your cigarette. We are also obliged to scan you for past offenses, and if any, levy the
commensurate fine. I will try to make this as painless and unintrusive as possible, and only one of
them talked.
[Shit, shit, shit.] Marcus panicked, [Simon, trace me an exit strategy. Im not heavily armed but a
quick read of my morph will raise some red flags that I just cant afford on me right now. If things
escalate, I may have to kill them.]
[Pathfinding now...]
Sir? Ego and morph registration, please.
-o0Aside0oNPC File Prime: Security Trooper
Typical security troopers are low-rez recruits assigned to military, police, or security details. They
might be a generic military draftee, an inner system cop, a hypercorp hired guard, a cheap Extropian
security contractor, or an autonomist mutual-aid security volunteer.
COG
C00
INT
REF
SAV
SOM
WILL
MOX
15
25
15
15
10
15
10
INIT
SPD
LUC
TT
IR
DUR
WT
DR
20
40
35
53
MORPH
Exalt
REP
Skills
C-rep 15
Gear
MELEE
RANGED
RANGED Medium Rail Pistol 50 (AP -5 DV 2d10+4 Mode SA/BF/FA Ammo 12 with Safety System
and Smartlink)
-o0Battle Stats0oSUBJECTS
INIT
Marcus Dela
Officer Takeda
Officer Woo
Officer Ludovicus
8
Roll for Initiative
Roll
INIT
Result
Order of Resolution
16
1st
16
1st
16
1st
2nd
There was a distinct disadvantage of inferior numbers, firepower, and range afflicting Marcuss
chances. As far as the universe was concerned, he was now at an impassable juncture of his life. The
consequences treated everything now as if it were in combat. Every second of every moment was
broken down and tracked, hanging at the balance of every decision.
The two officers before him, their nameplates clear on their uniforms, would resolve their actions in
unison with Marcuss own. These two were only five meters away from him and spread evenly to
prevent escape. The third officer would resolve last and was much too far to slip past easily. At thirtysix meters and closing, the last LEO still had a window of nine seconds to respond to anything Marcus
might attempt.
The element of surprise just wasnt in his favor.
The cigarette remained lit in Marcuss lips. He looked from Woo to Takeda and realized he may
have already given himself away. A Remade sleeve was designed for poker faces and intimidation, but
reading it wasnt impossible. Seeing their faces: 45, even if behind the cover of government issue
specs, he found opportunity: 4. No, they hadnt yet noticed what he was planning.
Gladly, he turned and ran: expending one quick action.
He failed to take them by surprise: 27, and he heard their boots stomp the ground, giving chase,
Hey, hold it! It took three seconds for the other guy to piece together what was going on. In that time,
Marcus spent another quick action to activate his implant, [Simon, Smack my bitch up--Prodigy. Get
my blood pumping.] It was an ancient track, but it got the job done. Basic neurachem flooded through
Marcuss veins, increasing his SPD by 1 and solidifying his virility to erection. A wave of shivering
satisfaction rushed through him. What originally was four action phases now split into five; two of
which were his, further dividing movement rates down to four meters at every ebb and flow of the
moment.
[Simon, what were they packing?] another quick action spent on a detailed perception test to
compensate for chaos, but it wouldnt fly: 58. Concentration wavered. In the soft glow of the LEDs, he
couldnt determine exactly what the LEOs had: 97 for issue, recalling past brushes with the law. The
NQPD was a varied and highly trained outfit. Trying to remember: 79 if non-lethal apprehension was a
current operational policy gave him nothing.
[Fuck.]