Unnamed TAYle: Part 5a

May 3, 2012 § Leave a comment

5:30 am.  TAY headquarters.

Strange watched the new folk walk in.  Tall, built, bald and bearded, they cut imposing sites.  Reminiscent of her man from another life, in a strange way.  It was probably just the hair -or lack thereof- she told herself, though there was something else, the way they held themselves, the purpose in their eyes.  Something.  She puts the thoughts behind her.  She needed to watch objectively.  They’d saved Shady, apparently, and for that she owed them, but they were hard, almost militant.  And the TAYbies had never set out to be a military, despite what had happened.  If they were going to be allowed to join, they had to show a compassionate side, a love for something.  Preferably games.  A willingness to talk had been the requirement once, but they’d been burnt too hard in the past.

The question room.  Normally the interrogation chamber, but in this case, slightly more innocent.  A one way wall, far more elegant than the mirrors down in the moderator’s bay.  The combined effort of Bish and Lambo, based on information that Aidan acquired.  The two new guys were walked in, and left in silence.  F4ction and Jocon, they called themselves.  Not the strangest names, though certainly not the most normal.  The Cracks walks into the room, the closest they could find to an interrogator at this hour.  He sits himself down, shuffles some papers, and Strange gets called away.

“There’s been an explosion, east end of the city.  No reported injuries thus far.”

“Reported injuries,” Strange interrupted, “how long ago did this happen?”

“O-Oh,” stammered the poor girl, some intern, forced to face Strange’s wrath, “about 2 in the morning, from what we can tell.”

“Alright, thank you,” murmured Strange, sorry for the stress she’d caused, “I’ll get a team out there.”

6:30 am.  The burned out warehouse.

Particles drifted slowly through the air, petrol and ammonia, burning as he inhaled.  He’d been the first to walk in the door that morning, and so was the first to be sent out here.  It was a complete mess.  Charred pieces of wood, and shattered bricks were all that remained of what had once been the storehouse for all the old articles.  A server change a few years back had left it empty, on a block by itself.  At least not much else had been damaged.  He heard the sound of running footsteps from behind him, so he turned.


“Freeze.  Looks like we’ve got our own Song of Ice and Fire.”

“Looks it,” replied Freeze, ignoring the jibe, “I just don’t know how we could have gone so long without knowing about this.  This is not small.  Then again, information isn’t my area.”

“Maybe if Blaghs was still here-” Flu paused, “though I guess that doesn’t really matter.”

“Looks like they’ve found something,” said Freeze, breaking the awkward silence, “shall we?”

“Ladies first,” responded Flu, taking the lead.

The ash crunched under their feet.  Chunks of wood intermingled through the fine powder, a puff of which burst with every step.  There were six of them, standing in a circle.  Moderators.  It was hard to tell how they felt about the TAYbies.  They put up with them, though that was at Serrels’ behest.  The moderators were digging something out, something that looked almost like an arm, scorched to the point where it was almost hard to tell…

Unnamed TAYle: Part 4

February 20, 2012 § Leave a comment

2:05 pm. Ask Me Stuff Square.

The roar in his ears grew louder.  The prick of the blade against his throat seemed harsher than any pain he’d ever felt before.  Shady closed his eyes, and thought of his family.  He knew they’d be supported, it was all in the contract.  Still, he’d loved to have had a proper chance to say goodbye.  A wave of his hand, a firm request that his son play some games, like a good little boy.  And that would be the last that his family ever heard of him.  How he died would be a secret too.  That was part of the contract as well.

The roar peaked.  And he felt the blade, tearing through the neck of his skin, as it flew through the air.

“What?” cried Shady,  as he opened his eyes, to find his four assailants crumpled on the ground.  Their lifeless bodies crippled by a pair of motorbikes.

“Sorry about your neck, friend,” one of the riders called, his voice like the moonlight reflecting off the sea on a cool summer night, “it should be right though, it looks superficial.”

“Why did- who are?” Shady sputtered out, bewildered by their appearance.

“Oh, don’t you worry about us, we’re here to he-” Said the rider, cut off as he saw some people leave the vault.  Revving his bike up, he and the other rider charged towards them, as they fled around the building, and into some forgotten side street.  Shady ran after them, reaching the alley in time to watch the intruders climb over a building, briefcases, filled with lord knows what clasped in their hands.

“Shit,” said Shady.  “We’ve got no chance now.  Someone else’s problem, I guess.  Which reminds me, who are you, exactly?”

“Ahh, right, I’m F4ction,” said the first rider,”and this is-”

“Jo.”  Finished the second.  His voice like a thousand nightingales, singing in unison.  “We came here to join you, and, we figured you could use a hand.”

“Unregistered people joining in a fight?  This is going to require a hell of a lot of paperwork.  And I’m going to require a drink.”

5 pm.  The South side of the city.

He sat there, watching, waiting.  The rain poured down, but it didn’t phase him.  He’d sat through worse, and this required perfect timing.  They’d been watching for months.  Intelligence gathering wasn’t exactly the most thrilling job, and NotoriousR was not known for his patience while sitting around, but he’d designed the software they were using to monitor the underworld, and so his expertise had been required.  Out here though, the rhythmic patter of the rain on his skin and hair, he could focus.  He knew what was ahead of him, and he knew what he had to do.  It was a retrieval mission.  He had to get inside the building, and “convince” someone to come out.  Not just anyone though.  This was one of the biggest trolls they’d ever fought.  He held power over hundreds of local commenters, and lord knows how many in other areas.  He was to be taken to HQ for re-evaluation.

A bolt of lightning.  He counts to six, and he’s in the yard.  Clutching the compound wall, hiding in the shadow of the main building.  Another bolt, he counts to five.  Two cracks, like thunder, and he’s inside.  Climbing the stairwell,  Another flash from above, 2 seconds, and he’s in the room.  At the bottom of the building.  No external input.  The only entrance, a single door, bolted from the inside, and pressure sealed.  You could detonate a nuke out there, and this room would remain.

“What the fuck?  How the hell did you get in here?”  A man to match the language, hulking and beastly, six and a half feet tall, covered in hair, and drowning in his own fat.

“Magic,” replied NotoriousR, the sardonic lilt biting through the air, “now quiet a moment, I have to open this door.”  He keyed in a code, pressed his thumb against a pad, and had a retinal scan.  The door opened with a hiss.

“How did you open that?  How the fuck did you get through my security?”

“I told you, magic.  Now, you need to come with me.”  NotoriousR raised a gun.  Pointed it towards the man, and motioned out the door.  While climbing the stairs, the boss in front of him, a flash of lightning overhead, blindingly bright.  NotoriousR laid a hand on the man’s shoulder, and a second later, accompanied by a massive crack, they were in the middle of the compound yard.

“Oh.  I did not mean to take us here.”  Suddenly, the armed men covering the walls turned, seeing their boss there, a gun pointed at him, they knew what to do.  The boss fell to the ground, hands over his head, as his goons opened fire.  Thankful for their terrible training, NotoriousR ducked behind a concrete embankment.  Hearing the pounding on the bullets, matching the rain.  He fired off a few shots, blind.  None hit, but he expected that.  He’d never been good with such inelegant tools.  Sadly this was all he had for the job.  The gunfire stopped.  A pause above, as they moved around the walls.  Coming down, ready to flank him, he had seconds before he was surrounded.  So he did the only thing he could.  He jumped over the concrete, turned to Swiss Cheese by the bullets, and threw himself towards the boss.  His finger feels the firm rubber, the sole of a shoe.  With a massive crack, a bolt of lightning smashes the ground, tearing through the middle of the compound.

“Well, that was close,” gasps NotoriousR, gasping for breath through fits of laughter.  He sees a car drive up.  Black on black.  With shades of black.  Its dark tinted windows hiding the interior.  He gives a wave, and asks for a hand to pull the crying boss into the back.

“You have any problems?” Asked the driver.

“If I did, I’d expect you to know, Aidan.”

2 am.  The following day.

There were seconds left, the clock, counting down time.  There was a faint beeping as his time grew short.

He thought about his wife, his life.  Everything he’d had.  It had been good.  A good run.

With a boom, Mr. Explody, exploded.

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.

This story which I need to name: Part 2

January 18, 2012 § Leave a comment

The second part, same as last time applies to this one.

10:45am. Outside the TAY financials building.
They stepped outside, a group as unlikely as you’d ever see.
“Careful Techy,” warned Steve-O. “with all this rain you’d better hope you don’t rust.” A sly grin on his face, which slipped into a smirk as Tech Knight refused to rise to the bait. Tech Knight’s body, metallic as it was, vulnerable to strong magnets and malware, was well used to the near-constant rain that covered the city of Kotaku. Some believed the rain was there to ward off trolls, the moistness in the air helping to keep them subdued, others believed that it had been part of a marketing campaign by the Wild Goose, never truly removed. All Harli believed was that it was in her eyes, and that it would make the trip take approximately 23% longer by foot, or 36% by car. It wasn’t far though so she strode off, expecting the others to follow.
They reached the building. Its history and use, a mystery to most citizens, but it stood sentinel to the city, towering over those buildings around it. They entered the foyer, Tech Knight rushing forward to open the door for the others, and a spectacular sight beheld them. A grand chandelier, casting light over the gold-lined walls. A grand fresco roof, portraying some of Kotaku’s history, done in the classic Roman style helped to add to the grandeur. Steve-O, experiencing this sight for the first time could do little more than stare, his eyes matching the expressions on some of the statues which adorned the walls. Knowing how long this could take, Harli grabbed him by the elbow, and dragged him to the side, to a small elevator, its subtlety helping it to stand out against the grandeur of the rest of the foyer.
Tech Knight was the last to step in, a sliver of gold from the walls held in his hand, his curiosity outweighing his typical moral standings. The elevator began to rise of its own accord, only one button adorned its panel, a prize too tempting for Steve-O to resist. As the button depressed, a sudden change was felt throughout the elevator, and with the slight crackle of speakers, the TAYbies were serenaded by the sweet vocals of Brad Kane and Lea Salonga, inviting them to share A Whole New World. With a run-time of Four minutes and Five Seconds, the song was a perfect fit for the elevator ride up over 150 empty floors, each as lifeless as the foyer below.
With a clunk, and as the final note died, the elevator reached its destination, so the three stepped out, and into the “Attic.” A black room, three of its four walls empty, with the fourth covered in monitors, the majority of them flicking between different camera feeds. Some remained still. A dark room, with a bright pixel of red, shining in the darkness. One that followed a girl, walking through the rain. And one on the Major himself, working at his desk. Finally, another five, spread among the others, covering different parts of the building itself. Then, in the centre of the room, facing the monitors, headphones on ears, and plugging away on a keyboard, the man they had come to see.
“I know why you’re here,” he said, his quiet voice echoing through the room. “but you already knew that. I guess old habits die hard. The question is, do you know why you’re here?”
“We were sent to talk to you, to find out about Ambrose’s death.” Said Harli her voice cutting through the room.
“Yes and no.” Replied the man, as he walked towards them. “You were sent here because of that, but do you know why they sent you specifically?”
“Because they wanted results.” Piped up Tech Knight.
“I’m your friend, you know that.” Responded the man, the dim light from the elevator revealing him to be noticeably younger than those he talked down to. “If all they were after were results then they could have sent anyone. But why a group of three? Why you three specifically? I trust you can work it out yourselves.”
“By the way, Techy,” he started, a sudden change in his voice, “when your system is done analysing it you’ll find that it’s legitimate 24 carat gold, not the crap that’s been smuggled in. Though I must say, I admire your dedication.”
“Where were we? Ambrose, yes. You came here because you needed my help, and my help specifically. I see everything that is to be seen, and so know more than the rest of you combined. But before I help you, I want you to see something. Know what you take a part of.” He took Steve-O and Harli by the hand, leading them over to a monitor, trusting that Tech Knight would follow. “Tell me, what do you see?”
11:15am. A Darkened Alley. 2 Men Face Off.
“Look at you, stealing for some fun. I bet you think that you’re a real big man.” Said one of them, Fedora lazily strewn over his head, as he casually leaned against the alley wall. “Do you even know who you’re stealing from?”
“No, I don’t.” Replied the second man, his left hand grasping a briefcase filled with notes. “I just know that there’s nothing you can do about it, punk.”
“Punk, eh? My name’s Chuloopa, and you’ll never forget it.” Chuloopa said, as he slid his hand to his holster, releasing his 6 shooter, nicknamed “The Bolter.”
“Never forget it? What’cha gonna do? Shoot me?”
“If you wish.” And with an almighty bang, the man was dead.
“Hmm, most of this is crap.” Thought Chuloopa, as he sifted through the files. “But I guess, like with all Reddit activity, there’s some nuggets of gold in here. I’d better bring these back to base, some of these are so downright bad that they belong in a museum, specifically designed to showcase their failure.” And with a sigh he stood up, put the files in his satchel, and began to saunter back to the TAY headquarters.

Unnamed Story: Part One

January 17, 2012 § Leave a comment

Part one of my Taybie story.  I can’t remember when I wrote this.  I want to try and fix the formatting, but it seems like WordPress hates me, so, for now it can have its original formatting.  I’ll probably come back and fix it later.  Probably.  And maybe I’ll even leave this here,  just to confuse people.

2 am. The rain poured down, drenching the city, cleansing it of evidence, but not removing the crime. Lightning cracks off in the distance, accompanied by the rolling boom of thunder. A window shatters, and a man dies.
9 am. More or less. A tall man confronts a small man, in a small street outside a jewelry store.
“Put the bag down.”
“No? Are you sure that’s a wise idea?”
“I don’t see why I should listen to you, what’cha gonna do, arrest me?”
“No, I think I’ll just beat you into submission.”
“You wouldn’t do that, see” the small man said fear creeping into his voice. “That would be Mod brutality!”
“Indeed it would,” replied the tall man, cracking his knuckles as he stepped forward. “Except, “see” we’re not the Moderators.”
The small man paused, unsure of what to do, before he suddenly leaped forward, his fist flying towards the tall man. With a deft sidestep though his fist was avoided, and with an almighty crunch, the tall man’s knuckles smashed through the cartilage of the small man’s nose, knocking him down.

“Oh Snap!” Said a third man, silent until now, “I guess they call you Rocket thanks to your fists.”
“Yeah Mags, it’s something like that.” Replied Rocketman, before striding off. “Are you coming? Q called a meeting, and I’d hate to see the look on Bish’s face if we were late. Well, if I was late.”
“I don’t really have a choice,” replied JamesMag, as he jogged to catch up. “But shouldn’t we do something about this guy?”
“Nah, I’m sure he learned his lesson.”
9 am. But a few minutes earlier. The “Remember This” memorial bridge.
“Give me the details,” yelled ‘Flu, his deep voice penetrating through the carnage. “All I can see from here is smoke and chaos.”
“Approximately thirty minutes ago the perp leaped onto the bridge,” replied Trjn. A slight man, with a very precise way of speaking, Trjn had always mystified the other TAYbies, until they saw him in action, and remembered why he joined the vigilante group. “He then proceeded to open fire upon the rational commuters.”
“Rational commuters? So he just ignored all the irrational ones?”
“More or less. From what we can tell, he is currently making impossible demands, and has declared himself the “New Emperor.” Clearly he’s a troll, but he’s dangerous nonetheless.”
“Thanks Bunny, I guess our best chance is James Mac.”
“He’s already in position, awaiting our signal.” Trjn responded, “So we’d better not keep him waiting.”
A sharp crack, the witty retort of a large caliber rifle, and the troll was gone, fallen into the murky waters of Pages Past River.
“Come Effluvium Boy, we had best be off, Q has called a meeting, and he sounded on edge. We’ll leave the clean-up to the moderators.”
10am. Ish. 16 Storey’s underground, in the depths of the TAY financials building.
“I know Q called this meeting, but he is busy with other things, so I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with my blathering.”
“Oh well Aunty Strange, at least you’re a sight prettier than him.” Called a voice from the crowd. The First Lady, well used to comments like this, chose to ignore the interruption and move on. Her efficiency and the manner with which she handled in house fighting had earned her a second nick-name, one that no man was willing to call to her face.
“There was a murder last night, I know, I know, this is nothing new in this city, but this was something different. So far as we can tell, the shot was from almost a kilometre away, in the rain, with next to no visibility of the target.”
“You pulled in everyone to tell us that one person was killed?” Called Puppylicks. “People are probably being killed as we sit here doing nothing!”
“Yes, they are,” responded Strange. “but this was different. The man who died was AmbroseIV.”
A gasp went through the crowd, as all the older TAYbies looked solemly at one another. “Ambrose? Who’s that?” Asked Lucifer9783.
“You don’t know because you’re a new guy, but he used to be one of us.” Replied Strange. “He disappeared a while back, and while we knew he was gone, a few of us still hoped that we might see him again.”
The rest of the TAYbies stayed quiet, processing the shocking news.
“There’s a coupla things of note though,” called out Dr. What?, his soothing Scottish accent helping to ease the tension. “He was murdered last night, it looks as though he’s been in hiding for a long time. I’ve sketched up what I think happened, and I’m letting the crime labs look into it. And while there’s not a lot the majority of us can do, what we need right now is information. We wanted to tell you all about this together. You can go back to your patrols, or you can take the day off, it’s up to you. But Harli, Techy and Steve-O, we need your skills.”
“You’re going to send us to him, aren’t you?” Asked Steve-O, as he took a swig from a hip-flask.
“Aye, but we need info, and he’s the best. Well, the best we’ve got.” Replied the Doctor. “You know his motto.”
“From here to the eyes and the ears of the ‘Verse, that’s my motto, or it might be if I start having a motto.” Replied Tech Knight, his metallic body shimmering under the lair’s fluorescent lighting. “Oh well, to the king of the wankers.”

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