Crimson Dawn (Part 11)

The address that Crimson's fixer had given her was, at first glance, entirely unremarkable. The Belleview neighborhood was a nice, anonymous, middle-class one, filled largely with corp wageslaves living their boring corp wageslave lives; certainly it was a far cry from the Barrens neighborhoods where she’d so far spent the majority of her Shadowrunner career. Save for a discrete codelock on the door, the storefront looked like any other in the suburban strip mall she was currently strolling through.

The whole thing was rather missable, but if a person knew what to look for, they’d also see that there was something inside that somebody wanted people to keep away from. Not that it bothered Crimson at all as she pressed the button on the intercom. "Name and business?" The curt, clearly artificial voice on the other end began.

"Kaitlyn Vermelho. I have an appointment." A flick of her commlink sent the code her Fixer had provided to the system.

After a tense silence, the voice replied. "Come in," accompanied by a quick buzz of the door unlocking. Crimson quickly slipped inside, the door shutting behind her as she headed down the stairs inside. The stairwell was dimly lit but also tidy, ending at another clearly sealed door at the end.

That door also opened in response to some signal from within, Crimson stepping through and into something vastly different to what she expected. On the other side of the door was an almost shockingly clean and modern looking facility, lots of gleaming white accompanying displays and minimal but none the less spotless furnishings. To Crimson, this looked more like the corporate medical facility in which she'd gotten her datajack installed than anything else.

A middle-aged man entered the room, dressed in a neat lab coat, his features more ruggedly handsome then the look one normally associated with a doctor. "Kaitlyn Vermelho," he began, extending his hand. "Doctor Samuel Kendall. A pleasure to meet you."

She shook his hand, finding the grip to be surprisingly strong; like everything else, it was completely defying her expectations. "Likewise. You come very highly recommended, Doctor Kendall."

"I pride myself on the quality of my work," he explained as he led her over to a display. "And please forgive the security. I have a lot of valuable equipment here in my surgery, and so I do need to protect it against theft or, for that matter, demands that I install it while at gunpoint. I know that it seems excessive, but given that you've seen my catalogue, I'm sure that you understand."

She nodded, well aware of what he apparently had stocked and how grossly illegal much of it was. Kendall's lab had the equipment and resources to build the exact augmentation package she had been looking for, one that would transform her form someone who, while nearing Olympian caliber, was still a normal Metahuman to something that was so much more. "I assume then you got the spec that I sent you?" True, it was her fixer that had sent the spec, but the point stood.

He nodded, bringing up a display with an itemized list of components. "It's extensive and, if you don't mind my saying, rather expensive. I gathered, however, that you were not here for all of that right now."

"Correct," Crimson nodded. "I thought that I'd start with the eyes, and move on from there."

"A good idea, actually," Kendall agreed. "While on theory there's nothing stopping one form simply getting everything installed in one big go, it's actually easier on the metahuman body to do things one bit at a time and give you the opportunity to recover and adapt." He glanced back at the screen. "Especially given how extensive some of this work is going to be."

And the fact that I'm still paying this off one bit at a time, she added. Her financial reserves amounted to Scarlett Krieger’s life savings, as well as the college fund her parents had set aside for her. Those were supplemented by the money she was making off her low-end runs for Slicer's contact as well as what little of Ashely's income she could spare. Two of those could be replenished over time, but the first two were one-offs, things that would not be easily replaced.

"So let's take a look at them," Kendall bought up the specifications from the list. "Full visual, low-light and thermographic, zoom functions, recording, wireless link, VDNI, smartgun compatibility," he rattled off features, breaking down into the full-blown technical specifications, much of which were going over her head, but she nodded to anyway. "And customized to look as natural as possible,"

"Vanity, I admit," she nodded

"No need to be ashamed," He simply shrugged off. "The cyberware customization industry alone is massive. You wouldn't believe the sort of requests I get for case-mods alone. Besides, it's different tastes for different people."

He glanced back to her. "Besides, if you don't mind my saying, you have beautiful eyes already. So why not get new ones that match them?"

"Why not indeed?" she replied, aware that she was blushing. "If I’m going to have the best cyberware I can get, it should look good."

"That's the spirit," Kendall replied. "Too many people just want functionality out of their cyberware and other augmentations. While there's a certain logic to that, I like to think that if you’re paying for that level of performance, you might as well get something that looks good and makes you feel good about it in the process." He glanced at the list. "What you have there, Ms Vermelho, pretty much amounts to the cyberware equivalent of a Supercar. So why shouldn't it look as good as it drives, so to speak?"

"In short, why not be a dead sexy killing machine?" Crimson replied.

"Exactly," Kendall finished. "So then, shall we get started?"

-----

Like the real thing, only better

"Okay, Crimson," Slicer began as he peered at her. "I gotta admit, those new eyes of yours are pretty wiz." He was squinting at her new eyes, looking back and forth between them as he seemed to study them in minute detail.

"But of course," she beamed. "The doc did a fantastic job."

"I'll say..." he continued to glance at them. "In my day, the options were basically little more than blank chromed lenses. Customisation amounted to what colour the chrome was."

"Progress, huh?" She simply shrugged, mentally wondering about just how awful the Cyberware must have been back then. To her mind, it was closing on sticks and rocks as valid options. "And they run just as good as they look, trust me."

That had been the amazing part to her. Crimson had found she’d adapted to her new eyes and their expanded capabilities quickly enough, learning how to use them and alternate between modes and different functions. What had really surprised her, however, was how much better they were then her own natural eyesight. Whole she'd always thought that her vision was good, plus her natural Elven low-light vision being a nice little advantage, it felt like she was blind before now.

It had also made her even more acutely aware of what she still had in store, the potential that lay before her. If one simple upgrade could do all this (the second most popular piece of Cyberware in the world, Doctor Kendall had told her), then she could only barely imagine what she would be capable of once she had everything else that she wanted. She would be stronger, faster, tougher, better than before.

Her eyes had been opened, both figuratively and literally.

"I still have a week off from work," Crimson continued. "So I figure that we should take as much advantage of it as possible and step up the training. You said that there was a lot more that was waiting on me getting my first round of augmentations, so here we go. Lay it on me."

"Sure you're okay?" He asked back, more than a hint of concern creeping into his voice. "After all, you did just replace a portion of your body with artificial machinery. That's no small thing."

Her response was a dismissive shrug. "I feel fine. In fact, if anything, I feel better then how I did before. After all, now I got all these amazing options on my eyes, and I can feed them data straight from my Commlink and stuff like that, which is going to be a lot of use. Personally, I'm almost like 'why the hell didn't I do this before?'"

Slicer seemed to slump a moment then stood up. "Well, if you're that determined, then I suppose that we might as well make the most of it. And since you've got the first of your 'ware, we might as well start with teaching you ways to use it to the best advantage."

"Cool. I can't wait," she replied with an almost hungry grin. "So what's the plan?"

"Let me make a call," Slicer replied as he headed back to his bedroom. "Be with you in a minute."

She shrugged as he left, taking her time to look around the blasted mess that was his living room and kitchenette. It had always struck her just how little he had; mostly some clearly used and threadbare furniture that had seen better days, old appliances and electronics that barely worked and precious little else. In many ways, his life was as bare and minimal as Ashley's. The biggest differences was that hers was meant to be temporary, while this was clearly the way he'd lived for years.

That and Ashley's hole in the wall is so much cleaner, she mentally added. It was clear that Slicer, for what little he owned, didn't really take much care of it either.

Older and grimier then depicted

"Okay, we're good," He cut into her thoughts as he returned. "Meet me downstairs with your bike. We're going in a field trip." It was only as he was speaking that she noticed the Ingram Smartgun strapped to his hip.

That was interesting in and of itself to her. For the most part, their training hadn't strayed too far from Slicer's apartment. Much of her combat training, for example, had amounted to sparring on the roof of the building. Other things, like sneaking, infiltration, marksmanship or the like had been practiced nearby, in vacant lots, abandoned parks or otherwise abandoned structures that were all too easily found in this part of Redmond. But again, all of that had been just her and him, one-to-one and within easy walking distance of his home. This, however, was something very different, and she was very eager to find out exactly what he was planning.

As she mounted up on her Mirage, the distinctive rumbling sound of an internal combustion engine caught her ears. Turning to its source, she saw Slicer rounding the corner, mounted on the back of a clearly older-looking but no less sleek and obviously powerful motorcycle. "That," she began, more then a little admiration in her voice, "is a really cool old bike."

It is really cool for an old bike, granted

He shot a glare back at her as he pulled up alongside, the higher riding position of his bike obvious compared to her Mirage. "This is a Yamaha Rapier," he replied, no small hint of pride in his voice. "It was the bike to own."

"Was," She smirked. "I bet my Mirage would run rings around it."

"Careful, kid," he grinned, "I might take you up on that."

"Well if I knew where we were going, I'd race you there and we'd see"

"That," he replied with clear amusement, "is a lesson for another day. For now, jsut try to keep up."

-----

Their destination turned out to be another run-down row of shops deeper into Redmond. The fronts were just as indistinguishable as any others; sealed up, filthy and covered in graffiti, but that didn't seem to be what Slicer was after. Rather he wheeled the pair of them around to the back of the row, pulling his bike up next to one doorway. A quick glance told Crimson that this one was a lot more rugged then the others, clearly armoured to discourage intrusion.

Nice place, she thought. Though now I am intrigued.

The door opened inwards, the pair of them stepping inside to the store before it shut behind them. The first thing that Crimson spotted was the room's only other occupant, a burly, grizzled Ork who sported numerous tattoos and a bandanna, and right now was clearly casting a critical eye over her. Everything about him suggested tow things; the first was that he was no stranger to action, and the second was that his acceptance of her being her was entirely based on who she was with and not on who she was herself.

The second thing that struck her was the content of the room. The numerous shelves and racks were packed with a wide assortment of weapons, mostly (but not exclusively) firearms. Even a quick inspection suggested a broad  array ranging from pistols through to assault rifles and even machine guns and other heavy weapons. All of a sudden the need for security became a lot more apparent, as it was clear to her that a place like this would be a prime target for raiding by Barrens gangs looking for firepower. Plus I'd imagine that a lot of these are grossly illegal, she mentally added, recongising some designs from the information Slicer had fed her. Just keeping some of these here constitutes a crime.

It was that last thought that bought a small smile to her face. Here I am in a black-market weapons store, she considered. Oh yeah, I've made it.

"I take it this is the kid you were talking about?" The Ork finally spoke up, his voice rough and guttural, more than a hint of disapproval colouring the tone

"That she is," He nodded. "Mitch, this is Crimson."

"Crimson huh?" He stepped past Slicer, stopping right in front of her. Even though he wasn't too much taller than he was, Mitch was far boarder and more solid, with arms that were probably as thick as her torso. "So Crimson, from what Slicer tells me, you're just starting out. What sort of weapon were you thinking of being your primary?"

She cocked her head, figuring that the Ork was testing her, measuring her based entirely on her response. "Well, I was looking at assault rifles as my main ranged option," she explained. "It's the combination of long range and hitting power that the class offers. You can outrange most other small arms and the drop-off in hitting power over a distance isn't as severe while still offering decent penetration. Plus the long barrels provide a lot of good options for mounts that you don't get on smaller weapons."

Mitch's toothy, craggy face twisted into something that resembled a grin. "Good answer, and exactly what I wanted to hear," he replied as he headed off across the floor. Not sure what she was supposed to do, Crimson followed after him. "Now Slicer there prefers submachine guns which, for my mind, is a great way to sell yourself short."

"They suit the way I fight, Mitch. You know that," Slicer shot back, sounding almost defensive.

"Keep telling yourself that," The Ork laughed as he picked a rifle off a rack. "I assume you've got the gear to run a smartlink."

"Of course," Crimson replied, the confidence returning to her voice.

AK-97: Cheap, crappy and insanely leathal

"Good girl," Mitch nodded as he turned, a weapon in his hand. "AK-97. Most common assault rifle in the sixth world, and something that even an idiot kid can operate."  He handed her the rifle, Crimson accepting it and even giving it a bit of a heft. "I'll get you the Smartlink codes as well."

"What is this?" She asked, glancing back to Slicer

"I thought he just told you," Slicer replied, almost insultingly. "Seriously, Crimson, this is your new gun. Obviously you're going to need to pay for it, but if you're going to start with assault rifles, then you might as well start at the easiest place to be."

"Not going for something more..." she flailed with her free hand. "Advanced? More then just 'functional' or 'adequate'? Not made in a third-world hellhole by trained chimps?"

"Giving an Ares Alpha or a Raiden to an amateur is a waste of a good rifle," Mitch called from across the store. "No offence, kid."

It was hard not to take it as a face-kickingly obvious insult, but Crimson did her best to simply nod and accept  the logic of what he said. "I guess so," she managed, raising the rifle and sighting down the barrel. Her sights fell on Slicer, who simply raised a brow.

"You truly got a live one there, Slicer," Mitch continued, walking past Crimson as she lowered the gun. With a shake of the head, the Ork opened up a metal door in one wall. "Follow me, kid. You got a lot to learn." He walked through the door, turning and heading down a flight of narrow concrete stairs. With nothing better to do, and figuring that this had been a part of the plan all along, she simply followed him down.

They arrived in what had probably started life as the store's basement back when it was a legitimate business in a legitimate part of town, but had since been considerably expanded by knocking into the basement next to it. The whole thing was rendered in drab, grey, utilitarian concrete, making it look more like a bunker then anything else. Lockers dominated one wall, while an old table and chairs provided the sole furnishings.

What did catch her attention was the dived midway down the room, a waist-high concrete barrier that effectively sealed off the far end. At the furthest reach of the room were a number of all with targets painted on them and all riddled with bullets. "Your own shooting range," Crimson nodded to Mitch. "Got a 'try before you buy' policy going or something?"

"Helps me maintain my reputation as a dealer of quality weapons," Mitch grunted back. "Besides, it's a great way to come and blow off a little steam at the end of the day." The Ork lumbered over to one of the lockers, taking out several clips before handing them to her. "These are on the house because Slicer's an old Chummer of mine. You look like you could use the practice."

"I'm not a kid, you know," Crimson shot back

"Not saying you are, but I'm also betting that you've never actually fired an Assault Rifle either." Mitch simply answered, his tone more or less neutral. "And while I have no doubt that Slicer's taught you a lot - I mean, you're at least holding it right and have an elementary grasp of how to sight - that’s still no match for real experience. Don't want to go out into the field with a weapon you know nothing about and all that crap."

"A Smartlink can only carry me so far," Crimson nodded

"Ayup," Mitch nodded. "The moment you're relying on it is the moment you're dead. It won't be there all the time either. A Decker could cut it off, or some damned Techno could just out and brick the thing without you even knowing."

That one gave her a moment’s pause. She'd heard of Technomancers, but didn't actually know much about them. The general media portrayal suggested that each and every one of them was a walking threat to society, able to access all your secrets and destroy the Matrix with a thought. While Crimson was willing to dismiss that as the Corps scaremongering in order to make a profit, the other stories she'd heard, whispers in the Shadows that Slicer had exposed her to, did suggest there was more to them that most were unaware of.

She briefly considered what it would be like to work alongside one, before snapping back to the task at hand.

Mitch stepped her through the basics; setting up the link, verifying it was working, loading and checking the rifle and the like, until after what seemed like hours she was finally ready to actually take a shot. After donning a worn set of safety goggles, complete with ear protection, she was lined up at the target, the rifle raised and leveled, her new cyber-eyes peering down its length. The Smartlink was feeding her data, the ARO displays painting a neat bulls-eye on the target while constantly correcting for her movement.

She fired, the rifle spitting a single round with a surprisingly loud and sharp retort even through her earphones, while the weapon bucked and kicked back in to her shoulder. Even braced as she was, it still staggered her, the kick of the rifle far more then the pistols she'd used so far.

"That's the other thing I should mention," Mitch cut in. "The more powerful the gun, the more the recoil. Just you wait until you start firing full-auto." He held up his commlink for a moment, then turned to her, a grin spreading across his tusked jaw. "Still, not bad for a first time." He showed her the commlink, a picture of the Dummy with a glowing red point on its torso clear. "You actually hit it, which is more then many others manage."

Slicer nodded at her, then turned back to Mitch. "Told you she was good." He smiled at Crimson. "How are you feeling?"

"Great!" She was positively beaming now. It was hard not to, that first shot feeling less like a single squeeze of the trigger as it did like an amazing leap forwards. "I mean, it’s going to take a bit of learning, but yeah. I think I’ve got this already."

"Well let's get you started," Slicer nodded, picking up a set of safety goggles as well. "I'm going to be right here alongside you and coaching you every step of the way." The older Elf drew the weapon from his hip, connecting a cable to its back before checking it over.

Curious, she couldn't help but peer at the weapon, tilting her head to get a better look at it. "What?" He enquired

"I've been meaning to ask for a while," she continued, "Why do all your guns have cords coming out from them?" She waved her finger in the air, tracing the connection between the gun and the Datajack on Slicer's forehead, before being interrupted by a round of raucous laughter from Mitch.

"Kid making you feel old yet?" The Ork chuckled.

"Very funny," Slicer shot back, glaring at him.

"Hey, have fun you two," Mitch finished. "I'm going back upstairs to actually run my business. If you need anything, just shout." With that, he turned and headed out of the room, shaking his head as he went.

"What?" Crimson asked. "What did I do?"

"You still got a lot to learn," Was all Slicer could manage, as clearly flustered as he was. "Come on, let's get started."

They spent about an hour working at the firing range, with Slicer talking her through how to fire the AK, its different fire modes and how they were used, the different ways to control it and other such matters. Her accuracy had been only so-so, especially when she felt like she was fighting the kick from the rifle, But had begun to improve over time.

He'd explained that she had the skill, she just needed to hone it, and had been constantly upbeat as he encouraged her. Pointing out that she was achieving all this using a cheap, crappy rifle of likely dubious quality control had actually helped, telling her that she could achieve so much more. Already she was imagining what she'd be able to do with something better, a thought that was serving to encourage her even more.

Slicer had stepped up to the range several times himself, getting her to watch what he was doing and how he was doing it. While he was using a different class of weapon to her, she could see the theory there and how his demonstration was helping.

What had then amazed her was just how accurate he was, even when firing at full auto on one of the targets, or even, in one case, walking fire between two of them (The back wall had enough holes in it that he’d probably figured a few more wouldn't matter). His stance was steady, his aim constant and his grouping tight when he wanted it to be, with very little wasted effort or ammunition.

That's where I want to be, she told herself, more than a little admiration in her voice. As much as Slicer had tried her patience with his drinking and other problems, this was one of those moments where she saw glimpses of what he was really capable of. He must have been a nightmare in action, she considered. Fast, accurate and deadly.

Exactly what she wanted to be.

Slicer holstered the Ingram, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing just a little as he did. "That's a pretty good work-out for one day," he spoke up, stretching a little which seemed to produce even more wincing. "I'm going to head upstairs and sort out s few things with Mitch. Can you clean up here and then I'll see you up there."

Crimson nodded, letting him go off to do whatever he needed to do while she went though the steps. The say had been educational in any number of ways, and while she knew her shoulder would be as sore as all hell in the morning, every part of it was worth it. Just a little bit closer, she reminded herself as she finished up, the rifle now on her back. Better get used to that too.

She trudged back up the stairs, stopping short of the top as she heard Mitch and Slicer's voices coming from outside. "I'm just saying that they're not ready, that's all," Slicer offered, more then a hint of impatience in his tone. That was enough to stop her in her tracks, a sudden feeling of panic rising in her mind.

Wait, does he mean me? Everything told her that she'd been doing well so far, and she'd been on plenty of his low-key 'runs' by now. So what am I not ready for?

Mitch angrily shot back, completely throwing her train of thought. "And you're saying that brat of yours is?"

"That's different," Slicer protested. "They've already got skill and they’re getting the experience."

"And growing up in the Barrens doesn't count, right?" Mitch spat. "He's been fighting all his dammed life. Or does that not count because she's a damned Elf, and thus better than him."

"Oh for Ghost's..." Slicer snapped. "He's a kid!"

"And so's she," Mitch finished. "You owe me, Slicer. You said you'd do this."

There was a tense pause, then Slicer finally spoke up. "Fine. But whatever happens, it’s not on me."

What the hell is going on? Crimson asked herself. She had a horrible feeling that she had just walked in on something that she wasn't meant to know. And while it turned out it wasn't her they were arguing about, she was still related to whatever big issue that actually was the problem.

"You done down there?" Slicer yelled out.

"Coming!" She managed with a jump, doing her best to act like she had no idea what was going on as she stepped into the room. Even then, it was impossible to avoid Mitch's angry glare. No less, she turned and nodded to the Ork. "Thank you very much for this"

His reply was a slow nod. "Take care of yourself, Kid. You got a lot to learn."