OOCS, Into A Wider Galaxy, Part 649

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(I need to start going to bed before 6 am again. This is stupid.)

The Dauntless

“Alright boils and ghouls. My story is fairly simple in broad stokes. I signed up to dodge a police officer that had it in for me so hard I wasn’t sure if she wanted my hide nailed to the wall or my self chained to the bed. Knowing her, a bit of a both, crazy woman was a crusader that somewhere along the line fixated on me.”

“And the longer details.”

“Alright. I come from level seven of Gallia Spire. Heavy gang territory, what police there are are just more gangs but with ‘legal’ backing and if someone with real power shows up it’s bad news for everyone because someone is getting fucked and the fucker doing the job gets a favour that’s going to make things get worse for a while.”

“I was one of the sons of the Round End Ravers. The hellpit beneath each spire is a little different under each one, and level seven of Gallia is... it likes to think it’s old. There’s been a few hundred variations of the Round End Ravers. Round End hasn’t existed for the past few centuries even. But we’re still named after the now demolished Cul-De-Sak where the first iteration was founded. Make sense?”

“So old gang, older legacy, but all of it’s a lot of pretension and bullshit.” Shem notes.

“Isn’t that familiar?” Clem asks and the twins chuckle.

“Yeah, not the most uncommon story in the bottom ten. But just because it’s a common story doesn’t mean that you don’t feel it, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t suck to be a part of it.” Roger says. “As a pup I was just the little bundle of fluff to be gushed over. Then I was handed a plasma pistol at the age of twelve, given a target. And the bag I shot at was burned half away, and blood spilled out of the other half.”

“Oh...”

“So that was my first murder. Bit of a tradition to lap up that bit of blood at an early age. You know, for years I didn’t think about that. But psychological testing is required and that little gem, and a few others tripped the higher ups to the fact that I’m not alright. So I’ve been getting help and... yeah, that was fucked up. Seriously, deeply fucked up that they had me kill a helpless Kohb at the age of twelve. And the fact that all of them had done something similar wasn’t much better.” Roger explains with his eyes cast down, but he’s not seeing the table the floor or anything. He’s not even seeing the Spire he’s on.

Then he’s back. “It’s an unfortunately common brainwashing and indoctrination tactic for recruiting child soldiers, or making killers out of civilians. The fact I got guns, booze, lots of food and praise following that shit show just locked it in... But apparently I am of a ‘shockingly resilient and well balanced mind’ so I’m making a much faster recovery than anyone expected.”

“Still incredibly fucked up.”

“Yes. Yes it is. Unfortunately, that’s just the start. Because I was the fluffy, cuddly and cute boy who was becoming more. I was growing up handsome. Well formed and with this brown coat with white underside I’m a fairly fetching man. So I became the eye candy of the Ravers. Still wasn’t bad though. That was life. It was family, it was loyalty. It was keeping each other safe in a world out to get us. Where if we put a single paw in the wrong place we had to fight to keep it. Being the big guy that made it feel worthwhile? That’s a good deal.”

“What happened then? How’d you go from Mister Hello to my Gunner?” Zaszarzz asks.

“Officer Cent’Yens. Self righteous, hypocritical Apuk bitch.” Roger growls out.

“Oh?”

“She was transfered in from another spire and level. Apparently her hard attitude, willingness to get stuck in and uncompromising nature made the local corrupt bitches think she’d be perfect. And if the goal was to nearly sent the whole level on fire, then yeah, she was perfect.”

“Really?”

“That hard ass bitch showed up. And started knocking every thing over. She was told that the balance of power with the gangs prevented open warfare. That the police weren’t ignoring the gangs, but they couldn’t focus on just one unless they wanted open combat in the streets because one group was weakened too much for the others to ignore.”

She ignored this. Seriously weakened The Valors, a gang with some territory a few blocks away from our own, and did so enough that The Ravers made a play.”

“What were you doing?”

“Posing on the hoods of cars. I was still eye candy at this point. The pretty little mug designed to be sweet and make them look them.”

“So a fight broke out?”

“Yep, and when the police landed on both feet there was an invitation extended to Officer Yens. One where I was basically there as a show of Raver strength. Basically if they could keep a great big Lopen man looking so well groomed, well fed and well taken care of despite being so low in a spire, then they were doing something right was the message. They were saying that they knew things and were worth listening to. Officer Yens saw a kidnapping victim despite the fact she was speaking to my Cousin and was having the meeting two rooms and a closet over from my bedroom.”

“Oh that...”

“Bad. You see, the woman, as I said before. Was a Crusader. The type that if you give them a mission or a cause they can devote themselves to, it becomes their entire personality. They obsess over it and push and push and push until they either get what they call a win or the goal is made impossible. If they win, yay victory, they do it again somewhere else. If they lose? They spiral, get pissed off and look for another cause.”

“Was she looking for a cause?”

“She was. She considered the fact she had to talk to gangs at all to be a major failure and wasl ooking for a way to spin it into something she could call a win. So she took one look at my shiny fur, well fed form, easy, relaxed and happy self. And decided there was a problem.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” Roger says. “Roger is not really my name. I’ve taken up a new identity since them. As has every other Raver that got out of the following shit show. They made some mistakes with me, but those mistakes were the same ones that were made with them and they were all done with the idea of keeping me safe and healthy. Like you captain, the shit show started due to the best of intentions. Officer Yens wanted to save me, The Ravers wanted to protect me, and I was grabbed from both sides and used in a game of tug of war until I started to get a reputation for vehicular homicide.”

“Really?”

“Grand Theft Shuttlecraft shows up on a LOT of the paperwork dealing with my new name.”

“Where’s the rest of your gang?”

“Vucsa Five.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and I’d be there with them if it wasn’t for the massive fucking mess that Yens made when she realized that we were getting away by claiming asylum and persecution. Accusations were flung fast and hard and I was the main sticking point in the case. So I made a sacrifice play and by NOT joining the gang on Vucsa Officer Yens entire case crumbled, because the downside of a Crusader Personality is that you get narrowly focused on things and miss a lot of details. In her eyes I was a victim being turned into a criminal she had to save, in my family’s view I was the precious pup that needed protection. But I’m a grown ass Lopin. I can protect just as well as anyone.”

“Damn. What happened to Yens?”

“She’s stuck behind a desk for her actions. Unfortunately the entire precinct she’s in is corrupt as hell so she’s just biding her time. Not that I’m afraid of her anymore. I’ve got the training. I’ve got the brand just over my tail. If she wants to start it. I will finish it. And I’ll find out if Apuk tastes anything like lanwrack.”

“Quite the story. But you told me you might have better.” Zaszarzz challenges with a grin and Roger barks out a laugh.

“I did didn’t I? Well the thing is I skipped a lot of details to give you summary. While my story is a lot cleaner, it’s got a lot more fine details. For example I got into contact with the few sons and brothers of other gangs as I tried to help the fight against Officer Yens and her thugs. We got to a lot of trouble. I was often the guy on the big guns, mostly because I was the biggest and could handle them. He also used stuffed shifts to ‘disguise’ ourselves and pitched our voices as if we had all been mainlining helium. So more than once I ended up balancing on the back of an airtruck flying fast and low to the ground to use the buildings as cover as I tried to prime some kind of magnetic mine properly. Screeching like my balls were on back order and with a pair of helmets bouncing off my chest, because spirits know where, but I lost my shirt at some point.”

This is so stupid...”

“I also snuck into the police station by holding onto the bottom of a cruiser and just latching on tight as they flew back in. Then keeping very quiet as it turned out it had a casual hover height a little shorter than I assumed. Meaning holding my breath and staying quiet was a bitch as tried to wriggle out of that mess.”

“Now how the hell did you do that? The sensors and cameras, to say nothing of people just looking up should have spotted you in seconds tops.”

“Oh we already sabotaged the sensors and cameras, the problem of looking up was solved as we had a couple of our ‘team’ having a ‘fight’ nearby. A pair of Kohbs with their arms tied together and trying to stab each other gets a lot of attention. Man or woman.”

“The fuck? You had a knife fight as a distraction?”

“No we had a fake knife fight as a distraction that was being filmed for the sake of an amateur video. Which still got a lot of attention from the police and everyone else around, but was ultimately more trouble than it was worth it to do anything other then tell them off. And I used that time to slip around in the police station.”

“Why is the biggest guy being the sneaky guy?”

“Because I had the best nose for literally sniffing out what we were there for and best chance of fighting my way out if things went sideways. Which they did.”

“How many did you drop?”

“No one, but I seduced a vending machine.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

“Turns out Internal Affairs was starting to catch a whiff of what was going on and they were doing a quick unplanned examination of the day to day going ons in the stations. With a Synth Officer who was quite comfortable bouncing around as data for a few hours. Since we already blinded the external sensors and cameras our distraction outside was not grabbing her attention as much as it should have and the security camera in the vending machine caught sight of me and a little speaker designed to simply give you a sales pitch on the products inside asks my name.”

“What did you tell her?”

“... Roger Good.”

“No!”

“That’s right! I’m legally signed up for The Undaunted with the stripper name I gave a random cop!”

The table laughs at that.

“It gets better!” Roger exclaims.

“How?”

“I full on seduced her! The only reason I didn’t straight up impregnate her is that she didn’t have the parts at the time!”

“Though a vending machine?”

“I paid just under the amount for a drink and fiddled with all the buttons to see what it would do. The end result was a squeal, a discounted drink and a Synth retreating in shame and leaving me to plunder the station of what I needed.”

“You’re a bastard! That’s perfect!”

“I got more!”

“Oh no! Please no.”

“Really? You don’t want to hear about the time it snowed Dream Dust over six city blocks?

“You did what?”

“Tainted the evidence and removed it from our obvious possession. Then we teleported the aircar into a chop shop and began tearing it apart and throwing all identifying markers into a compacter to destroy them.”

“How did The Undaunted let you in?”

“With the clear understanding that if I start pulling that shit without express orders they’re going to come down on me with both feet, but if I can use those skills when ordered then I’ve got a good career ahead of me.”

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