Cypher...

[_________YumYum Crow]

Night. A muggy, humid night at that; the kind where the air was thick and cloying like incense and the thousand smells and reeks of the jungle outside the city walls crawled into the slums outside of Omni-1. The moons hung low in the sky like mfreaky, ghostly faces or giant pustules. Silence enveloped the world like a cloth; the rumble and thump of the cities water works seemed distant. Everyone knew that a rain storm was coming, but over this week, the weather gods had decided to toy with the city. Three days of stiffling weather, and still it had not come.

The Atrox who called himself "Mechboy" stopped to wipe his perspiring forehead, watching as his simple Assistant droid tested the rickety old warf that rose above the turgid canal. He did not wish to fall into that goop, let alone have to swim in it, upstream to where his contact had so mildly indicated he would find his reward. The robot took its time (it was a basic model and did not handle the crumbling dock at all well). For the Atrox, it was sheer hell. Waiting. Always on the lookout for an Omni-Pol patrol, or even a few other nightprowlers for witnesses. His contact had been very specific about secrecy...

"If they discover what you know, you will end up in the mines," the fat man had said. Mechboy figured the obese man in his dusty robe and had must be nigh on 400 pounds from the way his frame seemd to burst from the seat, shrouded as it was in shadow. He tried to forget finding that dismal little hole in Trade, in an alley, squeezed between two shops. "If they discover what you know, some of your superiors may send you on suicide missions, and take the reward I am giving you for themselves. My reward has many doors -but you only want the first, don't you?"

It had been an easy job. So easy, he could still carry out the maintainance work with which he earned his monthly wage. All he had had to do was make a few hacks, upload a programme from a device that looked so much like some of his heavier work tools. All so easy, especially for what he was getting. What he was hunting for, in the dark, and in the sewers.

By now he was making his ginger steps along the warf. It groaned and protested beneath his feet and something ominous rippled the sludge nearby, like it waiting for a tasty morsel to fall in. Using touch, his 'bots scanning device and a pair of infrared goggles, he found the concealed footholds that allowed him to move off the warf. It was slow progress. He had to terminate his bot before it followed him carelessly into the sewerage. At least, he thought sourly, the contact was speaking the truth. Something was out here...

Then he found it. Then, with tortured fingers outstretched, he found the hidden crevice. Peering closer, he found the switch to open it. It did not reveal much, just an opening large enough for an Atrox fist with curcuits and gears inside. He spied a maglock reader (with much relief as his contact had handed over an old style key for such a device). He fumbled for the key, thrust it deep into the crevice, and flung himself through the opening as it hidden doors slowly unfurled with enough force to jostle his way through a gap too small for one of his bulk to squeeze through.

He fell panting into an open, dusty hall. Scrabbling to his feet he activated another droid and sent it off to root out unwanted guests. He himself began to take stock of the piles of plastic covers, furniture and uprooted equipment laying dead and dormant. The air was stale. He'd have to fix the filtration and air-con systems. Dust motes danced in the air, making his goggle vision snowy and indistinct.

But it was there: all the parts he needed for his own little toy kingdom. Decent parts; military grade parts stamped with the Omni-AF symbol. The kind of parts used for some killer hardware. Interesting stuff for any engineer, let alone a curious Atrox.

He failed to notice a wardrobe of old Intern-Ops uniforms staring at him from the dark, so intent was he cataloguing his new find. And trying to figure how he'd get it all home.

[_________YumYum Crow]

You know Oswald Croteau? The big fat guy, nanomage? They call him Fatozzie. He's just an oh so simple trader, they say, with part ownership of a food processing plant and dominion over the junk dealers of Borealis (or so he claims). He's here now, clearing out floor space in his small, crumbling appartment: see, there goes more bedding and discarded garments, metal cans and strange peices of machinery. It looks like he's cleaning out his closet...

Never thought you'd see a man of his bulk move so fast, so dexterously. See how he moves some processing units to one side and rigs up some more cables and wires. Fascinating -it looks like he's got an X17 unit there (thats a hefty peice of hardwire, if you catch my meaning. I thought only Fixers got training in that baby now...). Watch him strain as he pushes in communications arrays and portable command units into his closet. Hehe, I bet he's sweating off several pounds at least!

Whats he doing now? He's setting up the communication array as a command and control centre... What is this, plan your own war? See, using the X17 he's creating a hidden link to the grid. The command centre array will allow him to use some hefty (and nasty) software. He must be after someone; no-one uses that kind of gear unless they have military backing, or links to some influential people in the Clans or Omni-tek. He's uploading software now... lot of viral programs, codebreakers and nasty intrusion programs. OK- now he's uploading search engines, too. I thought only fixer's knew how to do this?

OK. He's done all that now. He looks rather pleased with his little self. Cackling he is -saying something about "freeing himself" and "about to get even with *everyone*". Now he's looking at the mess of his appartment. You don't like what you see, do you, you fat old fart! Ah! He's calling for aid.

Must be so nice to have some lame ass Atrox on call. Do they know the Union of Labourer's has legilsation against that kind of thing now? But this is Borealis -a rip rollicking free for all smuggler's town. Anything goes down here.

Even people like Fatozzie, who is much more than meets the eye.