The Unstoppable Truth

[Reverend Del]

The Kushan Freighter hit the landing pad's rings and hovered in place, not the prettiest of ships, but then the folks flying her weren't flying her for the looks. Purpose, practicality and efficiency this was what the Kushan brought to the table, especially for this job. Ostensibly the ship's manifest claimed passengers from Denver vacations as it's cargo, 24 folks all coming home at the same time. They'd clearly got a second class flight. However 4 of the passengeers were not entirely as they made out.

"Okay when we clear the customs area, we make for the safe house. Keep it calm like, stick to your cover and we should make it where we need to go." The instructions were issued subvocally, using movement of the vocal cords to convert to electrical impulse then transmitted over a very short range communicator, each of the four team members had one, enabling silent and effective communications.


As the passengers emerged, blinking, into the sunlight, Manahattan's finest came to check their paperwork, after ensuring all was in order they ushered the new arrivals, or re-arrivals, out of the spaceport and into waiting taxis. The taxi carrying the unusual 4 headed for one of the shadier areas of Manhattans vast urban sprawl.

As the taxi ride continued, the leader, a large man of indeterminate age, sporting a blatant cybernetic replacement arm, rather than a custom grown clone replacement, recieved a call on his regular comms device.

"Greetings," The voice on the other end of the line was thin and reedy, as if the speaker was somehow ill or just weakened, "I am Fixer, I have what you need to do your job. I will be waiting."

The taxi stopped near a broken and battered truck. The sprawl beyond whilst not a wasteland, could only be dscribed as slovenly when compared to the view behind. This was the place nobody talked about, where the down and destitute went to waste their last years. Rated a Z on the LPI security tally, it warranted no less than 2 riot control vehicles with two patriot class light fighters overhead for any incursion. Incursions were rare as even then the LPI could be almost garaunteed to lose members. It featured in no brochures, no quarterly reports, and officialy the government denied there was a problem here. As such it was the perfect place for anyone who did not want their business known to hide.

"I go no further than this pal, I'd lose my wheels and likely my life, know what I mean? Why on Earth you guys want to come here is beyond me."

The big man merely smiled, paid the cabbie his fare and exited the vehicle, his companions, two women and another man followed mutely. The common factor about them all was the cheap cyber replacements that they all sported. Cyber was normally used for manual labour techs who lacked the requisite funds to pay for vat grown replacements when a praticularly nasty accident happened. It marked one out as poor. If not as poor as the folks living here, but poor when compared to Manhattan and Denver's elite.

"We head to the market in Dogtown, keep your eyes peeled and your wits about you, move out."

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Saint Del is considered a holy healer of diseases of children, but also as a protector of cattle.