Unnamed Story: Part 3

January 23, 2012 § Leave a comment

Blah, blah, legacy, blah, I really need to write some new content soon, blah blah, Tales of TAY based story thing.

“It was Chuloopa.”
“Indeed it was, ser Tech,” a hint of mirth in the man’s voice. “But, pray tell, what was it that he was doing?”
“Dealing with a criminal.”
“Indeed. And there’s the problem I always had with you lot. It’s simply black and white, life and death. That man was stealing, yes, but Loops didn’t stop to question why, or who for, he just dealt with the man. It matters not, those files were destined for some members of the lower office, to be re-posted as news. Our great leader can do only so much given the rampant corruption.”
Harli had had enough of his snide chatter, “If you know what he should have, what does it matter? The information is still somewhere, and someone can answer it, so why should everyone have to know? Are you saying everyone should be like you, desperately craving knowledge, locking yourself away and hoarding all you know, refusing to help others?”
“I never said I’d refuse to help. Please, Ambrose was my friend, long ago. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot I know.” The man sighed, the look in his eyes showing the pain he felt, the pain at being helpless in a situation that was spiralling increasingly out of control. “I have footage but it shows little. He was hiding, he knew his time was nearing its end. The only reason we know about his death is thanks to the window. The glass used in constructing a sixty storey building is not known for shattering, particularly not as violently as in this particular incidence. That’s all I know. I’m sorry to have wasted your time. I recommend you find the man, hiding in Plain sight. He knows things that elude even I. Particularly his location.”
“Now, if you could please leave, there is much for me to do. I urge you to think over what I’ve said,” the man paused, looked them over and finally added “Oh, and get Bunny to send me more music, he does have impeccable taste.”
2 pm. Ask Me Stuff Square.
“I don’t care how far away they are, I need support!”
The explosion had rocked the square. The door of the Community Kudos vault had blown from out of its housing, and almost crushed five readers as they browsed through the square. Then the panic had set in, hundreds fleeing the building, joining the thousands in the square. Only one man stood resolute through all the chaos. Striding towards the building, as all the others tumbled away. This was a well planned Heist, its creators looking for an easy Pay Day. The Moderators were stretched to breaking point, and the sole guard of the vault, Josephine, was known for her dedication, as opposed to her efficiency.
“Don’t you have anything you can send? Lives are at stake, and more besides!”
FatShady was beginning to get mad. His greying temples were showing an age that his eyes refused to accept, his barrel chest sitting over a growing belly, as he slowly began to resemble his name.
“I’m going to go in, and Lord help me if there isn’t back-up here within five minutes.”
He strode towards the bank, drawing his tech-sword as he did. A spoil of war from the ancient incursion onto Gizmodo soil, it was said that the blade could cut a bullet in half. At just over a metre long, and weighing 12 kilos though, it could have made an effective bludgeon, even without power. As he reached the door he slipped to the side. Surveying the room, he saw two men standing guard, with an unknown number inside the vault. FatShady knew himself well enough, and he knew his limitations, and these two goons were well within them, so throwing caution to the wind, he strolled inside. Seeing him, blade in hand, the two men laughed, drawing their own blades, ignoring their holstered guns. It was to be their last mistake. Shady held the massive blade one handed, out to his right, the first man charged at him, swinging his sword down at Shady’s head. He sidestepped the blow, and brought his own sword round, crashing into the man’s blade, but only after it had passed through half his chest. The second man was more cautious, he approached Shady in a defensive stance, waiting for a blow to react to. After thirty seconds, with Shady just standing, blade held casually to the side, the man could take it no more, he swung hard, blade screaming through the air. With a casual movement FatShady executed a perfect parry, the forte of his blade striking the foible of his opponents, the Magnesium steel against the cheap iron, but he had no need to follow it up, as his opponents blade shattered against his, de-balancing the man, who slipped, and speared himself on the shattered remnants of his blade. Shady didn’t have time to wait, so he walked straight to the vault, a move that he regretted as soon as it was done. Inside were fourteen people, twelve of them garbed in the red and white of the IGNoble troops. They turned at his entrance, 10 of the troops rushed at him, drawing contratech blades as they ran, with a quiet curse Shady went into a defensive position, and his blade hummed to life. Its polished steel glowed white, and the blood that slicked its upper half seemed to evaporate.
He was forced, back and back. His blade moving in a flurry, a white blur, seemingly inpenetrable. He sidestepped a blow, ducked aunder another, with a strong block, followed by a quick riposte he crippled the hand of one assailant, but it was all too much. His foot slipped, and a blade ducked in, tearing the skin on his upper arm, with a roar he swung out, his sword connected, slicing through the man as swiftly as air, but it was all too much. He was forced back another step, and then another. Four of them had fallen, and then five. His right arm was struck again, and he switched to a left-handed stance, a blade nicked his leg, causing blood to flow down his shin. One of his assailants had resorted to simply using the same motion, a side-swing followed by a side-swing, as if the remise would effect him. He ended the blows with a swift kick and a harsh swing. That left only four of them, but they were young, energetic, and he was worn out. They were cautious around him though, none of them willing to attack. Shady realised that he’d walked all the way back to the entrance, and he saw the four remaining people begin to walk out of the vault, heavy bags in their hands. He didn’t have long to think it over though, one of the remaining blades sliced at his neck, and as he moved to parry, he stepped back, his foot finding only air. He tumbled back, falling head over heels down the shorts steps at the front of the bank.
“You fought well, old man,” said one of the four, his blade at Shady’s throat. “But I fear that this is the end for you.”
3 pm. The other side of the city.
Bish surveyed the building in front of him, his target was at work, where you could find him at almost any point in the day, three storeys from the top, but with a fantastic view when the sun set over the city. In the room with him were two others. Beautiful women, loyal to a fault, the Lord’s hounds, as the more respectable crooks called them, and best not to mention what the lesser ones said. He had to know, he’d been there, when it had all began, not the very start, but when it had all got going. It would be difficult to get in the usual ways, he had guards out the front, and getting an appointment was notoriously slow, so a more direct approach was required. There were air-vents, stretched throughout the building, and Bish was well practised at climbing through them, but time was not a luxury he had. With a quick sigh he stretched his legs, cramped from squatting for so long, and proceeded to launch himself off the roof of the 2010 Big Pile Of Crap, and towards Allure HQ. He spread his arms, short wings, designed for gliding sprung out of his back, and with a clench of his fist, a booster fired. He smashed through the window, glass showering around him, the only response came from the two women, who glanced up briefly, a grin from one, and an eye-roll from the other.
“Can’t you ever enter like a normal person?” Lord Serrels asked, his thick accent masking the words.
“I did that once, you may recall,” said Bish, his voice filled with mock patronisation. “If I recall correctly, you almost died of shock.”
“Aye, that I did. Now, tell me, what’s so important that they sent you to find me?”
“AmbroseIV has been found. And well, you won’t like”
7 pm. Somewhere in the city.
It was dark in the room. He knew that. There was only one source of light, a red LCD display, slowly ticking down the time. He’d been here for two days, he knew that. And it looked like he’d be here for another 7 hours. What would happen when that clock hit zero didn’t bear thinking about. He’d done it to protect himself, to protect his family, there shouldn’t have been ramifications, but here he was, only one thing could have caused this. “I regret nothing” he thought to himself. At least he had time to make peace with himself.
1:20 pm. TAY financials.
“I don’t like this at all,” said Strange, glancing at her companions. “Ambrose was one of us, he left, as was his right, but he’s been killed, and I can’t help but feel that we might be responsible.”
“He knew the risks, as do we all, however miserable that might sound.” Replied Sughly, his quiet voice barely heard above the cafeteria noises.
DAN! piped up then, “it’s only one death, anything could have caused it, we should only worry if it sets a precedent.” He paused, pretending to think, “now, Strange, tell me. Why did you send those three? I must say, I’m almost as curious as they were on their return.”
“To get results. Unfortunately, I didn’t count on how well he knew me. And them.”
“Yes, but why them specifically?” DAN! pestered, “you could have sent anyone, The Punishing Hand for instance is well reknowned for his… results.”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”
“Oh yes, of course. Mother.” DAN! muttered, the last word barely audible
And with a glare, Strange stalked off, the conversation over.

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