This Chapter Beta-read by Spiritual_Liege of the Celestial Forge Discord.
The future, huh?
Interesting words coming from a man that I barely know, who seems to be very willing to help for reasons known only to him...but it's not like this was unexpected. I knew that someone would try and take advantage of my lack of local knowledge. I'm just surprised it's happening this fast.
Or is it?
Maybe I'm jumping to conclusions here. Sure, he seems to be rather well informed about my situation all things considered, but that could just as easily be experience talking. I've known a few people in my time who could do similar things just based on knowledge of who and where they were, and this seems no different. Another point in his favor is that, at least for now, he seems to be trying to get into my good graces, or at the very least not be an enemy, which is always a plus.
So then, that's the plan. Hear him out and decide from there.
"...Alright, I'll bite. Two conditions though." Gotta start this right, can't let him keep all the momentum or he'd run all over me. "First, I wanna know how you're getting all your info on me. Security concerns, you see."
"This is acceptable to me," Harrisyn steed, a small bit of humor still in his voice.
"Second: I'm going to ask you some questions, and I expect answers. I'll keep it reasonable, but that's the only concession I'm making." If anything, this was me being too nice, but beggars can't be choosers. It's either play ball here or risk pissing someone off out there, before I know the lay of the land. Also known in various special ops circles throughout human history as assisted suicide.
"...I will give you the answers that I have, and that I am allowed to part with," Harrisyn's response was surprisingly serious, almost grim, in tone. "However, I will at least let you know if you stray too close to...privileged information. Other than that, I do intend to gain you as an associate at the minimum, and perhaps a proper business partner in the long term, so it is in my best interests to at least make sure you don't get your head blown off." The mirth was back in his tone, now. "So then, friend Green. Ask away."
Huh. he was being a lot more forthcoming than I thought he would be. Odd that I would meet the one guy who was looking to recruit and willing to be nice about it. Best not to look too closely at it for now, though.
"First off. How'd you ID me so fast? I know I'm not from around here, but I blended in better than most."
"And that right there is exactly what tipped me off, son. For all that you were a fish out of water, you moved like someone who could have belonged. That, plus the clothes, was all it took."
Wait, the CLOTHES? How the hell..? My face scrunched in confusion, a single eyebrow raised.
"Yep, the clothes," Harrisyn chuckles as he continues. "They were too good. Quality was top notch, but was blatantly built to last, and not to be flashy. Nobody makes clothes like that anymore..not here, at least. That told me you were from out of the hive...as for offworld? The language, for one. That and the way you were reacting to being out of sorts, too much like a soldier, but not anything I've seen from the local PDF. Chalked that up to being something out of a major Guard regiment, or some PDF from offworld. The rest spoke for itself."
DAMN, but he's good. Really coulda used him in a few of the more deniable units i'd been in, in either life. I told him as much, eliciting another chuckle.
"Naah, my days of fighting the good fight are behind me, my friend. Nowadays I'm just another face in the crowd."
"Calling bullshit on that one, good sir. No way in hell a simple old man lasts as long as you have down here without someone trying to fleece you. And from the looks of it, you seem to know your business...whatever it is." Which was another point of concern for me. This hole-in-the-wall we were in had all the makings of a safehouse, and one that was set up for extended use, at that. You don't need a safehouse unless there's something you need to be safe FROM.
Harrisyn's only response was a smirk.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Smug bastard is smug." I allowed myself to chuckle at his antics, clearly aimed at being disarming. No reason to be super hostile...yet. "Anyway, that's just part of what I need to know...you mentioned you were looking for a partner, or at least an associate. What's the work, and why?" How he answered would determine a lot going forward.
Harrisyn made a slight grunting noise. "Right to business, eh? Not a problem, but it requires a bit of background, first. Tell me, what do you know about how most hives run?"
"...Hive cities are usually set up with varying levels of manufacturing and other factories down near the bottom, either at or in the smog layer. Everything above the smoke is for the well-off, the nobles, people with real influence. The rest suffer down below." There was a bit more, but I wasn't sure if it applied here. Stuff about chaos and Xenos were not to be stated openly...
"An accurate assessment, overall, if lacking in details. Most of what you said is correct, and on any other world would be more or less the end of it . but this is Necromunda. We have our own...wrinkles to add to the mix."
Well shit. Those are basically some of the worst words you want to hear coming into a new area, that your intel was bad. Considering I had NO Intel prior to this, I was considering it a mixed blessing.
"Continuing on, Necromunda's unique flavor of insanity comes in the form of its houses. The big thing to note here is that everyone, and I do mean everyone, is in one way shape or form aligned with a house. Whether or not they like it."
Houses? "You mean Noble houses, right?"
"Not...exactly." Harrisyn trailed off a bit, before continuing. "There are noble houses, many of which that like to make general pains of themselves quite often, but no. The houses I speak of are the gangs."
"Your gangs...have noble houses."
"No. the gangs themselves ain't nobility. They just call themselves houses...and have the muscle to back it up."
And my day gets steadily worse.
"How many?" because this would be important, to know who to play off of. "And who are you...attached to?" and that was another point that needed clarifying, quick.
To his credit, Harrisyn did not hesitate to answer. "There are six in all, along with several minor players styling themselves as being one of the big boys...until they get noticed, and crushed underfoot. In no particular order, the houses are Goliath, specializing in the big bruisers; Delaque, who in general like to remain hidden; Cawdor, effectively the local religious nuts, and all that goes with it; Orlock, sometimes known as House Iron, which is somewhat complicated, but they're miners down below, and...Escher" Harrisyn all but spat out the name, "which is primarily female...and you do not want to be one of the males attached to them." The tone made it clear that there was some history there, but nothing that I wanted to poke at. No need making a tentative ally of convenience into an enemy of choice...
As for my...allegiance," and that seemed suspiciously forced, there... "I am currently aligned with House Van Saar, though I do have...other contracts." the way he said it warned me to not pursue the issue any further than that. "Van Saar is mostly set up in manufacturing, pushing out the more technical goods...not all of which would be approved of by the Nobles up top. Not sure where they're getting the know-how to pull the quality off, though-that kind of thing is kept real hush-hush by the big boys of the House."
As far as basic overviews went, it was just as advertised: basic. Maybe I can pull some extra info from developing my own sources later.
Wait a moment.
"...You said you were aligned with House Van Saar, not a part of it. Explain."
Harrisyn gave another one of his quickly becoming signature chuckles. "Noticed that, did ya? Yeah, I'm a really low-level stringer, and happy to be so. Keeps me out of the way of most of the politics that surround the Houses down here, which in turn keeps me alive. As for the why, well, that's the second wrinkle here. The Houses may be the kings, but that doesn't mean that they rule all that they survey directly. It's more along the lines of there being multiple smaller gangs attached to the houses themselves, which in turn feed even smaller gangs, and so on, and so forth…"
"All the way down to the bottom rung guys like you?" I finished for him. Wasn't telling him that I didn't believe that he was a bottom rung guy at all, but he could probably guess.
"Pretty much that, yeah, but the 'Rank', so to speak, of a given gang at any one time is dependent on a lot of factors, not the least of which is whether or not the heads of house have use for you. There is also the fact that, despite technically being criminal gangs, the Houses actually do a lot for the maintenance and upkeep of the hive in general. Van Saar in particular is openly tithed for the 'Guard, and has a reputation for "high-quality" goods, up to and including the conscripts sent to the Guard proper."
Alright, these Van Saar guys were sounding like the big kahuna of the major players in the area.
"...And just how closely would one have to be 'affiliated' with a given house in order to receive certain benefits of said house?"
"Depends, really. They have their hands in a lot of pies, which is part of how the house is so well-off. In fact, they tend to mark a lot of the more technical goods here with their seal. They also have the backing of some of the Noble Houses above, but I haven't been able to independently confirm that, nor which House is involved. I do know that the merchants' guilds are in bed with them, and treat it as a very profitable arrangement. I get away with being a rather loose affiliate, but I also deal in things that are not quite the house specialty."
And this keeps sounding better and better...they're the house of techies, in good with the actual head honchos and in a decent enough spot financially that unless I rock the boat massively there's not much that they might do to force allegiance.
Of course, I'm not about to ignore the fact that Harrisyn is once again dropping hints as to who his true masters might be...but the fact that he's doing so in the open, so to speak, means that he's either gullible (which I doubt hardcore; you do not live this long in the trade without being damned good) or that its a subtle warning to not spill too much info-something that I didn't plan on doing anyway.
I gave him a look, acknowledging the unspoken part of his little info dump on Van Saar.
"Seems like you have an idea of where I might be useful in the future...but that doesn't solve the here and now. So then, about that job?"
"So, you want me to act as a consultant," I said. "And what exactly will I be consulted on?"
"I was thinking Guard Training, mostly. You have the experience from being in to actually get the conscripts and recruits up to speed for what they'll really be doing, and not just as the glorified meat shields that they are now. Depending on what your specialties were, maybe more. Other than that, I was looking at setting up some Security work on the side-nothing too onerous, and preferably away from the idiots shooting at people all the time. But again, that depends on just what your skillset is." and once again, Harrisyn's odd penchant for honesty and generally being on the level shines through. Just one minor problem…
"And while I can see some benefits for myself, what's in it for you? Seems like you don't get much out of this."
"Well, I do, actually. It causes a bit of a reputation boost for me, being seen to be able to find the right man for the job. That, and having a contact I can call in when necessary is always useful for one in my line of work.
And again he openly hints at it…fine, I'll bite.
"And what is this line of work, exactly? You haven't been very forthcoming in that regard."
"Your suspicions are...mostly correct. I am, in fact, a small-time info broker, but also a sort of fix-it man, for various situations that may require...specialized assets. I tend to work as a contact for people looking for the people and tools they need to make things work. I make a point of not having it all, but being able to get you in touch with the ones who do. And around here, that's important."
"Still hasn't explained the partnership part...unless you're looking for a second?"
"...Sort of. I have a few people I work with, but most of them are favors owed, or people who might be willing to lend a hand in fair weather. No, what I'm looking for is someone who can actually stick with me, as an equal. A lot of the would-be hired hands around this level are surprisingly...incompetent, for all that they can get the job done." Harrisyn seemed to have a form of thousand-yard stare at the mention. Maybe a job gone bad?
"And what would my role be in this theoretical partnership? Seems like you have something in mind."That, and I wanted to see if he was going to spill on what he was really up to. I had a guess, but…
"...Mostly back-line stuff, with some exceptions. You could open some doors that I could not, for example, with your background. Those who would look at me with distrust would see you as someone they could talk to. Other places, other things, might be of interest too. Not to mention it's never a bad thing to have another trained shooter on your side, right?"
Well, the man did have a point.
"And what about skillsets?" I asked. "What do you have to offer that I might be able to synergize with?"
"A lot of my time has been spent in intelligence. I'm pretty good at ferreting out things that you'd think I shouldn't know, as you have seen firsthand." I nodded in agreement as Harrisyn continued. "In addition to that, I'm something of a handyman when it comes down to certain pieces of tech: weapons, vox systems, dataslates, that sort of thing. Been used as a repairman in the past for a lot of things. My network of contacts is another plus, one that I have been carefully grooming for some time now, mostly to keep aware of when shit hits the fan, other times to gauge whether or not a given action will set off an incident. It's rather extensive for the scale I work at, I'd say."
"...seems legit. I know you're leaving a bit out, but considering where we are, I'm not gonna complain too loudly. I will want to know who your other partners are at one point, though. No reason to be an unknown if we're gonna work together." Because I knew for a fact that there was no way in hell he was a solo act, based on this safehouse alone. Calling him out on it cost me nothing.
Harrisyn froze for a brief moment, before giving me a respectful nod, a small smirk clearly displayed on his face. "Indeed...indeed I will. Glad to see you're paying attention, after all."
Wait. Was that another test? Debate it later. Right now, I need to present myself.
"As for my skills, I'm rather skilled in mechanics, so I could do repair work as well, probably better than most of the people you've got lined up for the work right now. I have...a particular set of skills...when it comes to combat, and access to some nonstandard gear as well. I'm also good for a few languages if necessary, and a passable if not noteworthy slicer in a pinch. (No way in hell I'm telling him I could probably hack down all but the central AdMech datanets with relative ease. That would draw attention from his hidden bosses) Other than that, I'm a surprisingly good scrap mechanic. Give me enough of the pieces and I could get you a working piece of gear out of it, given time."
Harrisyn Looked at me askance for a moment. That moment stretched, though not excessively.
"...and what languages might those be, by any chance?" he finally asked, after the silence had gotten almost uncomfortable.
"Nothing major, just a few of the more common strains of Low Gothic, a sufficient knowledge of High Gothic, and a small bit of the weird cant that the Engineseer was throwing around back in the unit." Telling him I had the full Binaric Cant was asking for trouble, especially if the Mechanicus heard about it. They were RUTHLESS about keeping that secret from everyone that wasn't therm, if I remembered correctly.
The openly stunned face of Harrisyn was quite a surprise to me. I enjoyed it silently until finally, he spoke.
"I...I may need to talk to some people. I'm willing to put you up here for the moment, while I sort this out. That alright with you?"
Huh? What about my skillset was so odd that he had to kick it up the chain? It's not like I told him I was a special forces trooper from an alternate reality where tech was an actual thing that existed and not something that was constantly degraded outside of a freaking cargo cult.
"...it's acceptable, especially since I've got nowhere else to go at the moment. About how long is this gonna take, anyway?"
"Shouldn't be more than a standard day. In the meantime I can set you up with at least some food and some miscellaneous items as needed; call it a welcome package. I think I have a spare dataslate hanging around as well; the local net isn't great, but there's things stashed away inside of it for those willing to take a look. Just don't poke the parts that look to the "official business" side and we should be all right."
In short, don't attract attention while I get the bosses involved on something important. Normally this would be a hard pass, but being fully in Indian Country with no hope of extract means that I have to play things fast and loose until I can get some more reliable allies in my corner. Hopefully that's an event that I can arrange happening very soon.
Besides, getting him out of the way for a bit would let me play around with some of the tools and abilities that I wanna keep under wraps for the moment.
A brief nod in Harrisyn's direction got him setting off almost immediately. Seems that I'm a big deal then. I'll need to find out why eventually. But for now...time to settle in a bit.
The Forge was a unique and extremely potent tool, one that was both metaphysical as well as spiritual in nature. Some of its abilities were odd when looked at from a certain perspective, but all added to the collective whole, connected to and powered by my very being.
This was relevant because I had gotten a feeling of sorts that there was more for me to learn, ready to go at this moment, and it was simply waiting for an appropriate moment for me to allow the final connections to form. I found it rather convenient, that the power would act in such a way as to not distract me when important things were happening.
With a simple mental push, I allowed the final bonds to form within me, and ignite parts of the constellation sitting within…
The lights within my soul blazed brightly as I gazed towards my erstwhile Partner, and currently, Teacher, as he prepared to impart unto me yet more secrets of the use of the forge. Examples of items and materials flowed around me, various skills and abilities for manipulating and modifying everything from matter to energy to even concepts swirling around me in a storm of activity, all seeming to vie for my attention. "Watts", however, simply grabbed from among the lot a small number of these concepts, and began showing me the intricacies of their function and form.
Here, a weapon fit for a God...and the secrets behind it's forging, oddly tied to one's own self.
There, the knowledge of the tiniest of machines, and their potential uses.
Another, showing the possibilities and methods of how to create even the simplest of tools to last centuries, possibly even millennia.
And then there were the oddballs, like this weird template thing that seemed to be capable of...combining things? Odd, but sure, I'd take it.
Onwards the lessons continued, showing how to draw out the abilities needed to properly utilize the skills within.
And with a simple flourish, it was done, and yet more nodes on the strange galaxy that was my soul shone with the light of life.
I snapped back into my own head with a minor bit of dizziness that quickly passed. As awesome as that was, it was equally annoying...but the benefits. The BENNIES, I say!
Most of the ancillary equipment for my newest lessons were placed inside the warehouse proper, with some of them having a customized locker for the gear (Terran Confederation Issue, I believe. I could do better at a local pawn shop...Las was kinda broken when you didn't have to fight Chaos and other threats from beyond the pale). Most of the abilities I'd learned, though- the "perks" so to speak-were mental in nature this time. Including one that allowed me to have increased information processing ability, relative to a baseline human. Useful for a firefight, but it was intended as a research tool.
I'd deal with that mess involving the mystic aura, and any potential complications, later: right now I needed to get more information.
Firing up my Omnitool, I quickly found the local wireless access point. It was a simple thing, almost primitive by the standards of the age, even though it was plenty advanced to my shock. It was "only" rated at 100+ gigabit speeds, after all...at least, if I did my conversion math correctly.
The various transfer protocols and file formats were another matter, but it was short work to cobble together something I could use to skim around with. And oh BOY did I find the goods…
It would seem that the concept of information security has taken a rather massive backslide in the 41st millennium. (Or maybe it's just me being a freaking super hacker among script kiddies-though there were a few seemingly decent hackers floating around in the fringes, here and there, as I could see the data trails that they tried to hide,) Either way, what little defenses that there were surrounding all that juicy data fell before me like so much tissue paper, and I perused the contents at my leisure, completely unworried about electronic counterattacks or backtracking from anyone currently on the network at large...and it was a shockingly good find at that.
Apparently there was far more to the story of some of the Ganger Houses than was public knowledge. Some of the Noble Houses, too, for that matter, but a quick perusal showed nothing that was truly actionable though the intel was nice. Locations of certain Stash houses, various assorted contacts ranging from petty to potentially important, and a host of other minutiae related to the organization of several of the counterintelligence arms of the relevant party. Of note, the Archives were Primarily a Van Saar concern, with what looked like two or three other factions in on the fun: a group calling themselves the Enforcers, and what looked like House Cawdor as well. There were even areas of the network reserved for "official" Imperial traffic, namely the Nobles themselves, the publicly-facing sections of the Mechanicus, and the Arbites, along with the rest of the Administratum proper.
There was also an unusually sparse section that claimed to be a contact portal for House Delaque…which turned out, upon further inspection, to be a rather elaborate honeypot for those who thought themselves good at the game of ones and zeroes. The actual (and surprisingly well defended) section of the Delaque network was elsewhere entirely.
Didn't make it any harder for me to slice my way in and take what I wanted for my own records, but it was still a better effort than anyone else had put up to this point.
The only parts of the datanet I didn't pick clean for that sweet, sweet info was the sections related to Defense. The PDF had a decent sector all to themselves, and it was practically a digital fortress. No way in hell I wanted anything to do with pissing THEM off.
Even more shocking to me was the presence of another, even more secure section...and it was for the Imperial Fists. As in, the Motherfucking Space Marines.
There was a fucking Space Marine. Chapter. KEEP. ON THIS WORLD..
Not only no, but HELL no.
This was worth ALL of the nope. There is no way in hell I'm fucking with that. EVER. not even at gunpoint am i giving the fucking Astartes a reason to give me their personal attention.
I would not live to see the dawn, if that happened.
Fortunately, I didn't have to. My scouting on the edge of their systems didn't seem to trigger anything, and unlike some of the idiots I was smart enough to let things alone, so I took the clearly offered hint present in that gesture and beat digital feet.
The good news is that I got a decent map of the Hive complex(es) out of it.
Oh yeah. There were quite a few of these hanging around, and each had their own issues. I filed those away for future reference while I examined the real prize.
The map of Hive Primus was apparently somewhat out of date, as several of the documents from the Enforcers and even the Arbites showed areas requiring detours, potential and actual collapses of support structures, and other semi-permanent damage that might need routing around in a tense and/or crisis situation. The Delaque maps, what there were of them, anyway, showed off quite a few of the less-known paths by which one could travel without drawing too much attention, which was essential for one like me, who worked best in the shadows.
That being said, I wouldn't be surprised if that was a second honey pot setup, drawing in those who were smart enough to find the mapping data and then either punishing them for digging too deep…or recruiting them for being able to find them.
Can never put things past people who are willing to work in that many layers...and I think I now know who Harrisyn's unnamed secondary clients might be. These guys go out of their way to keep a low profile even the paranoia is justified? I'd have to-
There was a loud knock at the door.
This immediately had me on edge, shifting myself towards anything that might be a defensive position while drawing my 'Eagle, aiming towards the door.
No one except Harrisyn knows that I'm here. And he wouldn't knock.
I hadn't been here for all of a few hours and already this shit is happening? I could feel the tension rising in my spine, demanding I act. But patience and planning was the key here. First, I need to find cover.
Another visual audit of the room followed, with even more focus on finding good cover, or at least adequate cover until I could deal with the idiots. The stuffed chairs were sitting free in the middle of the room, unlike the couch which was up against a wall, and were, while not perfect, at least adequate for my needs. I finished shifting towards my defensive zone and settled in for the coming encounter.
And not a moment too soon, as the door was kicked off of its hinges by an absolutely massive boot.
Said boot was attached to a guy that had to be nearly seven feet, and with more muscle than anything I had ever seen in my life on a person, all on display. There were marks of what looked like prior...surgeries? Injuries? All over his body (and that was DEFINITELY a He, no mistaking things there), along with what looked like a crude, if flamboyant belt of Spikes holding up a pair of simple work trousers. An absolutely lethal-looking cudgel of some sort followed, made out of what looked like old and rusted metal.
But it was those eyes, those cold and lifeless black eyes, set inside of a bald head, that told me everything I needed to know.
This guy...THESE guys (another three men jostled around outside the doorframe, as they started fanning in) were here to kill me.
"Well then, welcome to the drips, my friend. I do hope you've enjoyed your-"
My only answer was a sliver of metal between his eyes, and the loud crack of the pistol's report as I ended him.
"Hey! He got-"
A second ganger fell, with just as much effort, to a gaping chest wound.
The third tried to rush in while he had the opportunity, and was gunned down just as swiftly.
There was no fourth man. That one had run for the hills after seeing his partners dropped that fast.
A small sigh left me as I relaxed from the tension of the brief combat.
Well, that wasn't how I wanted things to go…but as life has taught me, beggars cannot be choosers by any means. At the end of the day, the fight you can walk away from is a fight that you've won.
Now how the fuck was I going to dispose of these bodies?
Harrisyn Cain liked to believe himself a simple man.
He got up in the morning, Drank his shitty recaf just like everyone else, and then he went out to eke out a living in the harsh underbelly of Hive Primus. And he usually came back, too, always a credit when these things came up with his employers. Just a simple man doing simple things.
And then came that weird cultist attack that came out of nowhere, which wrecked a lot of people's shit in short order, finally requiring the local Stand-ins for the Houses to step up and get things done before the Arbites could get called.
And what should fall into his lap afterwards but the oddest person that he has ever met to date.
That Mr. Green was just a giant puzzle, one that had him intrigued and terrified in equal measure. He adjusted the old jacket he wore, as he meandered his way through the local slums near his old safehouse...where his current 'guest' was residing.
The man moved like a soldier, walked and talked like a spy, and acted as if any and everything could kill him at any moment. Being honest with himself, he probably would not have made a move to recruit him at all if Green hadn't literally walked up to him first. The brief episode of spoken gibberish (or possibly another language that he knew) and apparent severe headaches later, and the man was back to fighting shape, and showing that along with the various bits of training came a scarily sharp mind, one almost as good as his own.
It felt nice, to be able to treat with an intellectual equal, for once, even as an adversary.
But no. This man has to be some kind of freaking gold mine dropped into their laps like so much candy, and at a nearly perfect time, no less. The recruiters of Van Saar were practically foaming at the mouth to get their hands on a Veteran Guardsman, especially one that looked like he'd spent time as a stormtrooper...but as with all things on Necromunda, the running rule was to verify, then trust. No one wanted to be bit in the ass by a fake.
Which was why he had,on orders from the higher ups, gone and hired out a small band of two-bit thugs for a simple job, paid up front. Just head on over to the safehouse, break in the door after knocking loudly once, and look threatening for a bit, then see what happens afterward. All in all a simple job, and one that would test the mettle of this so-called Guardsman.
You could never be too sure with these things, and checking was always the first step...but deep down, he hoped beyond all hope that he was right, that Green really was the real deal, an actual former Guardsman with the raw experience and grit that Van Saar needed so badly and would pay desperately for access to.
In any case, all he had to do was wait just a bit and-
Several odd cracks filled the air, sounding somewhat similar to an old stubber. The surrounding area, long used to the depressingly regular violence that was a standard feature of living near the underhive, ignored them as anything but routine.
The thug screaming in terror and running for his life, however, was not. Not by any means. Especially not splattered with blood as he was.
Harrisyn immediately double-timed it back to his old safehouse, desperate to see if he could salvage the situation by any means at all.
Instead he found an oddly calm Mr. Green, standing over three of the thugs' bodies, and making an odd contemplative gesture as he looked down at them.
Seeming to notice his haste, He looked up.
"Harrisyn, glad you made it back," Green stated, still as calm as ever. "Got another question for you."
"Dammit man, what the hell happened?" Harrisyn exclaimed. "I thought I asked you to lay low?"
"And I did. Until these idiots showed up and decided it was a good day to play pinata with the new guy." Harrisyn didn't recognize the word, but the abandoned blunt instruments surrounding the bodies said a lot for context. "As you can see, I wasn't too enthused about the prospects, and disagreed. Loudly."
Harrisyn took a closer look at the bodies. Not one of them was with the group he'd hired to rough Green up a bit, which he found quite confusing...until his thugs rounded the corner.
"Hey there dipshit. Care...to…"
The opening banter (read: inane prattle) died off quickly as the thugs took in the scent before them. Then, almost as one, they turned around and quickly departed in the opposite direction.
Harrisyn Snorted. At least SOMEONE here had the brains that The Emperor demanded that they use for a living.
Green spoke up from his impromptu vigil once more. "So, I'm assuming that your bosses felt a test was in order…"
"And the idiots that just left were it," he'd replied immediately. No way in HELL was he claiming the dumbasses on the ground as his. "Something of a policy, I'm afraid. I had no say in the matter."
"Really now." Green's tone became very flat, almost mocking. "And next I suppose you'll tell me that these guys were unsanctioned interlopers trying to horn in because someone was being an idiot about security, right?"
Harrisyn noted the implied accusation for what it was, and ignored it. "Yes, that is more or less the case. Not that I could have done anything about it myself, but these things happen." He moved closer to the now ruined safehouse door, kicking one squarely in the side as he passed by. "In any case, this just might put some of the doubts to rest about your skills. I think I'm going to cut out the middleman and take you to the higher ups directly. They have an...interest in you."
"And here you said you were but a low-level info broker. Kinda high up the fence for someone like you, ain't it?"
"...you can say that-"
There was a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He whirled to face it, hands flying to the hidden holster underneath his jacket, seeing all too clearly his target, aiming squarely at his new now drawn autopistol quickly finding its mark, a twitch of the finger sent lead-jacketed death streaming towards the last thug, the one that had run screaming earlier, now armed with a damned HELLGUN? Where in the fuck did they even FIND one of those? Admittedly it was in bad shape, but still...
"...so that's where he ran off to." Green seemed a bit shaken, but he placed it down to the adrenaline rush of nearly getting shot at. He'd been there all too many times, himself.
"Looks like it. Now then, Let's get you to the bosses, Mr. Green."
Green made an odd chuckling noise. " Oh hell no, Harry. You saved my ass from getting fried by that asshole. You don't get to 'Mr. Green' me." He moved closer, extending his hand, a wry smirk on his face.. "Name's Satori. Satori Green; Friends call me Tory."
Harry (and its been a long, long time since he allowed anyone to call him that) looked at the offered hand for but a brief moment...and smiled.
"Nice to meetcha Tory. Name's Harry."
The two men shook hands.
This one fought me, almost the whole way, but I'm glad I have it done. See you next time for more.
Perks CH2:
CH2|-Deity's Weapon (100CP)
Naturally, your aura is not your only tool, and neither is it just for show. By imbuing a portion of your aura into a tool, you can turn it into a weapon capable of eating through physical and magical barriers alike. Naturally, as you're infusing a portion of your mystic nature into the tool, with time it will grow to possess magical qualities as well. With asufficient amount of time passing, you could very well find yourself bearing a mystic weapon, one that has naturally absorbed enough mystic force to rival the greatest of magical weapons. With enough time, all that energy would be enough to make it a weapon of lore. Just don't expect it to happen anytime soon.
-[Deific Qualities – 0 – Mystic Only]
Deities and mystics are quickly recognizable by the distinct aura that surrounds them, though not everybody possesses the ability to see that aura. While you can freely control who can see your aura, certainly there will be plenty of times when you would be much better off with nobody seeing it. The nature of your aura is generally up to you to control both in terms of coloration as well as size. Certain races are generally bolstered by the presence of your aura, and in the opposite fashion, some races are naturally weakened in its presence. While this is something you choose, with a single race bolstered and a single race weakened, it generally seems to do with the nature of your mystic qualities. A fox mystic would probably bolster fellow fox races while possibly weakening humans.
-[The Aspect – 0 – Mystic Only]
Mystics and deities alike have always taken on profiles, drawing upon the various elements of nature around them. Some would say that these profiles were assigned to them by their worshippers, or perhaps they were chosen by these divine individuals themselves. Regardless, as a mystic of minor presence, you too have an aspect, representing a single element of nature. Your ability to manipulate this element is probably the most fundamental skill you possess as a mystic. Everything from conversion to manifestation operates with this single element in mind. In its simplest form, you'll be able to produce small quantities of this element at no significant detriment to your spirit. Though it takes time to develop this skill, it will improve bit by bit with further usage, from mere generation to conversion of one element into your core element, and then finally manifesting your core element into the environment around you. Both the intensity and range of your powers will slowly grow. Though it should not bear repeating, as with most things related to mystics, growth is slow given how long your lifespans tend to be. There's simply no reason to move things in a hurry.
CH2|-Info Processing (Starcraft II - Nova Covert Ops) (400CP)
You are not always stuck in a lab, you are useful in more areas than just that. You can process information, sensor readouts, intercepted communications, and more importantly, you can apply such knowledge. While others would use such data for tactics, you see opportunity for scientific advancement. The more information you have access to, the better opportunities you see for salvageable materials, technologies, or data. And you can use those to relatively quickly implement a usable and useful technology.
CH2|-Robust Engineering (Dune) (300CP)
Ten thousand years of stagnation in technology is a very long time... and now you know how to apply the lessons of those millennia to the construction of anything you have. Mass production does not exist any longer and even relatively common items are made as if masterwork quality, because aside from obvious cheap items, they have been built to last longer than the person using them. Expect anything you construct by hand to be able to last centuries, as long as you take a little extra time while you make it. With the amount of time you're going to be around... you may need that sort of quality.
-Military Training [100, Free: Drop-In / Smuggler]
Military training is particularly curious here due to the invention of the shield; only an object moving slowly can penetrate one, and firing a lasgun at a shield causes a quasi-nuclear detonation that will consume both the weapon firing, the shield, and potentially everything in between with a yield that may vary from hand grenade to H-bomb. As a result, true military training provides a smattering of training over long range weaponry and the bulk of it in melee and unarmed combat.
CH2|-Nanite Sciences (100CP)
You possess in depth knowledge of nanite technologies. With sufficient equipment and resources you could
produce and control nanite machines, possibly even recreate the nanite event or maybe figure out how to reverse its effects. But that would take a long time of additional study of nanites out in the world, still you might be one of the few who could attempt this endeavor. You possess no knowledge of the meta-nanites, and understanding how they work is beyond your grasp.
CH2|-The Right Tools (Generic Cyberpunk) (100CP)
They can be hard to find, but when resources are hoarded and hard to come by you've learned to make do. You can easily improvise for tools and materials you lack by creatively using what you do have, even if that means using scrap to build the tools to build the tools you need. Even if you're lucky enough to have a fully stocked workshop or lab this will come in handy, as you'll be able to do a great deal more with what you have instead of needing to commission or build specialized equipment for every unique little thing. You'll never be empty handed and useless for long.
CH2|-Aesthetics and Flair (Bayonetta) (100CP)
A gun isn't quite a gun until it LOOKS good, you know? It's supposed to be classy, make you look amazing just for having it. Likewise, that sword could use a bit of badass styling to it. When you create your weapons, you can make them look DAMNED good even on an off day. Expect any weapon creator to envy you, and those who die by your weapons to count themselves lucky as they perish to such beautiful art.
CH2|-Excellent Craftsman (In Another World With My Smartphone) (200CP)
You are incredibly talented at making things. What kinds of things? All kinds of things. You are simply that talented after all. Anything you personally make, or direct the creation of, will automatically be top-quality, and you never need to worry about making mistakes in the creation process. To get you started you may pick any four mundane skills related to making things, which you start as a master of.
-Regular Magic Affinity - Free for Everyone
You've got regular affinities for magic. Which is to say, roll a 1d2+1 if you're any race but a fairy, which roll 1d3+2. That is how many elements you have an affinity for. The elements are Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, Light, and Darkness. Technically there is another 7th 'element' known as Null Magic but that deals with personal magic which everyone has. Everyone gets 1 Null Magic (personal magic) spell, except for fairies that get five. It is impossible to train up affinities you do not possess or gain more Null Magic spells beyond the one(s) you start with, either you have them or you don't. (see Notes for details on magic) [Roll was 3. I was not amused]
CH2|-Weapons Recombination Template (Final Fantasy XIII-2) (200CP)
The shady dealer (Actually it seems like everything he's offered so far is shady) just shrugs when you pick this up. Apparently, it binds two weapons together, and allows you to shapeshift the weapon between either form. You're not quite sure how it works, but he demonstrates it to you by showing you how a bow can shift into a sword. You can't help but notice that it also turned into a Moogle afterwards...but apparently yours won't do that. Unless you throw a Moogle into the mix. Wait...does that mean...