Aftermath: Chapter Two ~ On a distant shore

I'm never doing that again....

Crank, troll shadowrunner
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The whirlpool had swept Angel into its tempest.  She struggled against the raging current, fighting for all she was worth.  I was a meter away from her when I remembered that she couldn't breath underwater. 

{How is it that of all the things you could have forgotten, you forgot I'm not a fish? ~ Angel}

{I had been able to breath underwater for more than a year at that point.  It wasn't something I thought about anymore.  Again, for the hundredth time, I'm sorry. ~ T}

My left hand found her armored jacket and I pulled myself close to her.  She started to thrash, a reflex movement against drowning, but I managed to wrap my arms around her.  Her face was a mask of confusion, fear and anger.  {At the time, I thought you had brought me there to drown me. ~ Angel}

She struggled against me.  The spells that enhanced my strength gave me the power to hold her fast as I formed the spell that would save her life.  Mana flowed into her, permeating her being.  The cybernetics in her body were like rocks in a stream, resisting the magic as it poured around them.

Oxygen began to form in her cells.

Angel continued to struggle, bubbles escaping from her mouth and nose as her body refused to allow her to hold her breath any longer.  I focused on the spell, feeding it energy and weaving its pattern into a self-sustaining loop.  Angel bit down on my shoulder, my form fitting armor saving me from her teeth. {Again, I was DROWNING. ~ Angel}

A very long two minutes passed as I continued my spell work while Angel struggled in my arms.  The spell was working, she was in no danger of drowning, but the realization of that hadn't reached her.  I finished tying the spell pattern into a self-sustaining loop, then released Angel into the tempest.

She was swept down away from me.  I stopped fighting the current and was swept after her. My feet struck the fractured stone firmament two meters from where Angel had landed, rather unceremoniously, on her posterior.  She turned to face me, her face full of confusion.

I made exaggerated gestures of swimming and pointed up.

Angel made an obscene gesture and bubbles streamed from her face as she screamed into the water.

"Yeah, she's mad." I thought.

{No drek. ~ Angel}

Angel needed a little help escaping the undertow from the whirlpools, but we made it to the surface and swam toward the island of fitted stone.  Mr. Johnson's head, still frozen in its death glare, had refused to rot.   It sat at the base of the pillar, bathed in the radiance from the totem that blazed high above.  Angel saw the head and froze.

"What the hell, Tommy?"  she said softly.  "Is that thing real?"

I nodded.  "Yes.  Meet Mr. Johnson.  The same Mr. Johnson who employed Samantha Goode and who hired me for so many fragged up jobs.  Remember the vampire attorney?  That was this guy."  I gestured toward the severed head of the dragon.  "He got mad at me, tossed me around the office a bit.  I still had time on my contract and was going to ride it out, but I made some plans in case he didn't want to play nice.  Then I received a not so subtle threat against Aria and my family."

I paused for a moment and looked at the head of the great beast.  It was easily large enough to swallow me in a single bite.  "So he had to die.  They couldn't be safe while he was alive. Samantha too, she's dead Angel."

My gaze fell upon Angel.  She had a hard look about her and was soaking wet.  "You killed Mr. Johnson.  You killed Mr. Johnson and he happened to be a dragon."

"That's right." I replied.

"And you're keeping his head here, why?"  Angel's voice carried a wary tone.

I shrugged. "He died here, the head fell into the water.  I didn't want it lying around on the bottom as that just didn't seem like a good idea, so I brought it up and put it here."

"So, it's a trophy." She said.

"No.  It's just here.  Really don't have a better place for it to be." I told her. "Think about it. If I take it back to the physical world there will be a helluva lot of questions from anyone who happens to find it.  If that person is a police contractor, I'm pinched but good."

Angel shook her head at me. "So you dumped the body here, where ever here is, and called it a day.  Ghost, Tommy.  You killed a fraggin' dragon."

"I did. I killed the Johnson who paid me more than anyone else ever had."  I didn't even try to feign regret. "He was a threat to Aria and the girls. I did my job, lived up to my end of the deal, and he tried to strong arm me.  When he didn't get what he wanted, he had Samantha drop a word in my ear about it being better for my family if I went along."

"Sounds like the mob running a protection racket.  Once you give in, you're theirs. Same thing goes for dragons I guess."  Angel said.

"My thoughts exactly.  It was dishonorable and unprofessional." I said.

"You sound like Pepper." she said.

"Thank you."  A strange sense of satisfaction came over me and I smiled in spite of the deep drek I was in.

Angel's face cracked into a smile of her own. "You're crazy, chummer.  You know that, right?  You don't let other people know you killed a dragon.  That's the kind of thing you don't tell anyone."

"I have to trust someone.  I choose you." I set the rucksack Crank had handed me down next to Mr. Johnson's head. "By the way, sorry about the water.  I've sealed the magic, so you can breath underwater now."

"Will I be able to, once we leave this place?" she asked.

"You'll be able to breath underwater until someone dispels the magic." I told her.  I remembered a lie I had told Crank once and added, "Or until I die."

"Wiz.  I've never been a strong swimmer." Angel sat down on the stone and pulled her boots off.  Water poured out as she turned them up.  "Any hope for a fire?  I'm cold after the swim."

"Oh.  Yeah.  One tic."  I made a mental note to store provisions on the island at some point in the future, then sent out the mental call to the fire spirit I had bound.  It appeared at my command, a living bonfire of elemental energy.  "Best I can do right now." We sat there, basking in the warmth of the fire spirit, and talked about the trouble I had landed in.

There are so many things that follow you in life.  Your electronic trail is one of them. Purchases you make, stores you visit, the different commlink contacts you've had, social media information and all the little things that let savy tech-types know way too much about you.  Angel I talked for hours about how to clean up the electronic side of my mess.

I told her about the information Mr. Johnson had in my file.  The known associates he had named during the meeting when he made his 'employment offer'.   Angel frowned at that. "That's a lot of very specific and hard to find data.  Any idea who fished it out?"

"No.  Danny seemed well briefed on the information but I don't think he collected it.  He drove Mr. Johnson around as sort of a second aide-de-camp.  He's got a lot of cyberware in him, had access to plenty of information and sat in on several briefings." I paused a moment as I searched my memories. "Come to think of it, I don't know where Danny's office was, never emailed him either.  Weird that he was around so often but never really seemed to do much more than gofer stuff."

"Shadow gofer?" Angel's eyebrows quirked up while her smile betrayed the humor she found in the idea.

"Yeah, something like that."  Danny was loose end. "He may know something or he may just be close muscle."

"You'll need to decide on that one." Angel said.  "But there is no doubt you'll need to find out what they know about you, and clean it up, before you can have any hope of a normal life."

"What if the corp turned over my information to the FBI?" I asked.

"If they did, you're fragged chummer.  Sooner or later, they'll find you." Angel's tone was plainly apologetic.  "Sorry, but I'm not taking a run against the FBI host.  Their cyber crimes guys are way too good."

I understood that.  There were times I had been asked to face off against things I didn't dare to.  I had walked away from those jobs.  If you work in the shadows for any length of time, you learn to respect your limitations.  You also learn to accept it when people whom you respect tell you they've reached theirs.  "I hope they kept it in-house then.  Looks like I've got a run to plan against my former employer."

"Chummer, now you're talking my language."  Angel replied.

-----------------------------------

Thank you for reading my fan fiction. I hope you enjoy it! I do NOT own Shadowrun or make any claim to copyright material.  These stories are based on game play and have been fictionalized to make them (hopefully) fun to read.


I do write and develop RPG material for other games (not Shadowrun).  You can support by subscribing to my Drip page (it is like Patreon but it's owned by KickStarter).  Please do check it out and subscribe to help fund cool stuff (like art for this page).  Click on the image below, see the page.

I hope you'll join through the coming entries for "Aftermath" as Tommy's actions give rise to consequences he never imagined.  "Aftermath" is being created in chapters as it is a longer story.

Thanks again for joining me here.

Aftermath: Chapter One ~ Hiding in Shadows

February 1st, 2061

Rose and Lily watched over Aria, Jasmine and Violet while I went to ground. The family was hiding out in a safe house set up by Sheila X.  I didn't know where they were and I kept my contact limited to messages ferried back and forth by Rose.   They were as safe as the shadows could make them.

Plenty of runners have crossed their Johnson. A few had even survived to tell the story.  I didn't know of any runners who could claim to have crossed a dragon and lived.  That spoke volumes to me.

"To late now, Tommy." I told myself.

I had spent the weeks hiding in the Place of Gates. Slipping through the cracks in reality, the astral gates that lead to that far flung place, had given me a type of mobility I had never before imagined. The stones that formed the firmament upon which the plane rested had cracked in several places. These cracks into the physical reality of our world were growing wider. Mana was leeching into our own manasphere from them. Wells of power, from the vast oceans of that far flung metaplane. Power which I had tapped repeatedly in my own basement laboratory.

The ghostly image of the skyscraper sat upon several stones.  Each with strangely regular cracks that ran to a point where the central stone had been shattered into rubble.  High above the waterline, a trio of fish splashed in wispy bits of cloud stuff.  It was strange even to me.

There were whirlpools that lead to dozens of places scattered across the globe.  Beneath the other moons, vortexes of water churned about stone arcs.  I left them alone.

For the first few days I carefully fitted loose bits of stone into the crack that had led to my home.  There was nothing left for me there, and I didn't want any investigating magicians to get a lead by poking their head into the metaplanes.  With the last of the crack filled, the whirlpools above that stone vanished.  The stone adjacent to it, however, had a small crack that led someplace I knew all too well.   I forced my will against the stone, broadening the crack and bringing down a whirlpool every bit as strong as the one that had once led me home.

"Time to get the lay of the land, Tommy." I told myself.  I pushed myself through the crack, into the dim light beyond and arrived in dank ruins.

Darkness engulfed me as I forced my way into the physical world. The stench of old death and burned flesh surrounded me. Ectoplasm clung to me, evaporating into in wisps of intangible smoke.  The walk in refrigeration unit had warped in the fire and the subsequent explosion had torn a jagged hole in the wall.

Behind me, an orb of light blazed away.  Mists flowed into the ruin and droplets of ectoplasmic dew began to form on the splintered bones that littered the floor.  My booted foot came down on a charred skull.  The pronounced canine teeth of the vampire leering into the eternity of damnation I hope they found themselves in.

I was surrounded by what was left of the Reapers.

-----

Angel had wiped every trace of my old identity away.  The money I had set aside was sent to Sheila to be laundered, minus a fee to Angel for moving the money out of my accounts and making several records disappear. She was, and is to this day, an archmage of the electronic world.  {Stop it, Tommy. You'll embarrass yourself. ~ Angel} 5mps deleted by sysop ...   She had sent me a new burner commlink before I disappeared.  It was time to put it to use.

I climbed out of the rubble and powered up my new burner commlink.  A minute later it beeped as a voice call came over.

"Authenticate user," a soft machine voice said.

"Shakespeare." I replied. I took a moment to look around.  The area was deserted except for a pair of devil rats that fled when my eyes fell upon them. The commlink beeped again as a second voice call came.  I thumbed the button, hanging up the first call and taking the second.

"Where can we pick you up?" Angel's voice asked.

"I'll be with Pepper.  One hour." I replied.  I hung up, powered the device off, then removed its battery.  The Willows were dark, even with the enchantment that let me see in low light like an elf, I would have had problems making out details.  My astral sight assured me that I was alone, other than the pair of fleeing devil rats.  The web of detection spells I had fixed to myself reached out and found nothing.  No vampires, no ghouls and nothing that meant to kill me.

I almost breathed a sigh of relief.  Almost.  The air elemental appeared at my command, lifting me into the air and hurrying across the night sky toward the church and Pepper's grave.  The invisibility spell was woven about me out of old habit, leaving me virtually undetectable to all save those who might be glancing skyward into astral space.

The cold of the night bit into me, leaving me chilled as I landed on the frozen ground that entombed my old friend.  I had plenty of time before Angel arrived, so I brushed frozen bits of debris from the grave stones of Pepper and his family.

"I really stepped in this time, chummer." I said softly. "Didn't have a choice really.  They would have gone after my family."

A twinge of old guilt reared its head in my mind. "I can't lose them Pepper. I know why we didn't wait, why we didn't plan. We gave in to the rage and the hurt and it got you killed."  I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye.  "But at least you're all together.  I know I keep saying I'm going to stop coming here, but that's a lie.  I miss you, Pepper.  Rest well, until we meet again."

I prayed over the graves of my friend and his family.  I prayed for their peace, for rest and for God to let them into his heaven.  I prayed for my own family.  That they would be safe from the danger I had placed them in.

The sound of tires grabbing plascrete reached my ears.

"Amen." I said.

Drifting through a graveyard like a ghost is bad manners. That being said, it really is a good idea when you don't want people knowing you're alive.  I floated, wrapped in my invisibility spell, among the graves and over to the gate.  Ratchet was sitting in the driver's seat of his cargo van, his aura tense.  Crank got out of the passenger side door, his good luck charm resting easily in his hands.  The side bay door slid open, revealing Angel waving at the gate.  She didn't see me, but she had no doubt I was there.  Crank's aura was calm.  He was alert and ready.  The spell I had fixed to him hummed through his body, spreading its charm throughout the large man and making him inhumanly fast.   Angel's aura revealed that she was anxious and irritated.

I drifted over the gate, landing three meters from Crank's reach.  The invisibility spell slipped away as I let it dissipate, revealing me to my old chummers.  My real face, red hair and all, appeared out of the mist in front of them.  I like to think that it must have looked cool.

{Damnit, Tommy, you almost got shot by Crank and you scared the drek out of all of us! ~ Angel}

Crank's gun came up instantly.

"Chummer, I almost killed you!" The big man shouted to me.

"Thanks for not killing me, Crank." I replied.  "Ratchet, Angel, good to see you."

"Holy, fraggin' Hell." Ratchet exclaimed. "Tommy?"

"Yeah, chummer, it's me." I replied.  "Sorry for all the false faces.  My shadows have been pretty dark lately."

"Yeah, yeah. We get it.  Get in the damn van, Tommy!" Angel said sternly. "You don't need to be out here where anyone can see you."

Crank lowered his good luck charm and I hurried into the van. Crank was in and closing his door before the side door had fully closed. "Go, Ratchet.  Take the long way, the really long way." Angel said.

I smiled at her.  "Good to see you."

She punched me in the teeth.  {You had it coming. ~ Angel}

"WHAT. THE. FRAG. HAVE YOU DONE!?!" Angel screamed at me.  "The police contractors are actually INVESTIGATING your disappearance.  The fire at your house?  Oh, that was ARSON.  Maybe you've heard of that? The feds have taken over Tommy.  Ever heard of the 'F' 'B' fraggin' 'I'?!?!  Well they're looking for your hoop too. People are floating words like "terrorist" in front of your old name."

I tasted blood from the tear in my lip.  "Yeah, I get that.  You want to know what I did?  Really?"  I looked over my shoulder at Crank who was staring back at me.  Ratchet was jacked into the van, but I had no doubt he could see me better than anyone.  "Think long about this one, chummers.  Do you REALLY want to know something that has the feds looking for the old me?"

There was a moment of pregnant silence.

"Don't know what you're talking about, omae." Crank sighed.  He turned to face the windshield. "We're just picking up an old chummer we haven't seen in ages.  I don't know nothing about what she's talking about."

"Yeah, what Crank said." Ratchet's voice came over the van's sound system.

I turned to face a furious Angel.  "I'll tell you, if you really want to know.  Just be aware, it was enough that I sent Aria and the kids away.  If it's that bad, you have to ask yourself  'do I want in?'".

She fumed, her face twisting with the fire of her temper. "Do I want in?"  She took a ragged breath. "I AM IN!  Who do you think has her digital hoop in the middle of this?"

"Before this gets uglier." Crank interrupted.  "Tommy, Sheila told me to give you this."  He handed a worn old rucksack over to me.  "I didn't look in it."

"Thanks, Crank." I told him. "Okay, Angel.  I'll tell you.  Crank, Ratchet, do you guys want to know?"

The van screeched to a halt, slamming my favorite cranium against the interior of the van.

"No." Ratchet's voice came over the speakers again. "No.  Get out of the van, Tommy.  You need wheels, let me know.  I don't want any of this mojo being discussed in my ride and I don't want to hear about it later.  Call me when you have work."

Crank frowned. "Let me know if you need me, Tommy.  Or if you want to hang out and have a steak and some beers.  But this,"  he trailed off.  "No, thank you anyway. I don't need the feds on my case."

I rubbed my head and nodded to Crank. "I understand chummers.  This heat will die down.  My old ID was solid.  Still, it's a good idea to lay low."  I swung my boots onto the slick street.  "Come on, Angel.  We'll talk."

We flew back to the Willows, disappeared into the old burned out ruins, and vanished from the world.

Angel almost drowned.

______________________


Thank you for reading my fan fiction.  I do NOT own Shadowrun or make any claim to copyright material.  These stories are based on game play and have been fictionalized to make them (hopefully) fun to read.

This fan fiction blog is written for fun and as a writing exercise.  I hope you enjoy it!

I do write and develop RPG material for other games (not Shadowrun).  You can support by subscribing to my Drip page (it is like Patreon but it's owned by KickStarter).

I hope you'll join through the coming entries for "Aftermath" as Tommy's actions give rise to consequences he never imagined.  "Aftermath" is being created in chapters as it is a longer story.

Thanks again for joining me here.

The Art of War, Part Six: All warfare is based upon deception

Never deal with a dragon,
Famous street proverb
_____________________

January 17th, 2061

0820 hours, Seattle Metroplex local time

The elevator ride up gave me time to simmer in a sea of emotions.  Fear fought with anger as I mulled over the events of my last 'meeting' in Samatha's office.   I hardened my resolve, stoked my anger to quench my fear, and marched out of the elevator to confront Samantha's assistant.

"Good morning, Machine." She smiled at me. "She says you are to come right in."

"Right." I marched past her to Samantha's office door.

"Enter." the voice from the speaker sounded before I could knock.  The door opened and I stepped through without breaking stride.

Samantha Goode, Control, was alone in her office.

"Please, have a seat." she said.

I sat down across from her and took in her office.  It had been repaired, remodeled and cleaned since my last visit. "I see you cleaned up the place."

"Mr. Johnson wants that stone, Machine."  Samantha was beautiful.  One of those examples of elfin grace and otherworldly loveliness that poets write about.  She was also a frighteningly powerful magician.  I had seen her conceal the approach of an aircraft so well that I hadn't even become aware of it until the dust it kicked up gave away its landing.  At that moment, she looked tired and more than a little angry.

"I don't care." I replied.

"Machine, Tommy, I want you to give him the stone. I'll be very grateful if you do."  She looked over at the window that made up her wall.  It overlooked downtown Seattle and was a fantastic view.  "I'm authorized to pay out bonuses.  Did you know that?  Even with your contract I can make that happen.  I have access to knowledge I think you would find most useful.  I'm sure I can express my gratitude in many ways."

"Should have tried this tactic before beating me up." I said.  I paused, thinking furiously over what my next move would be.

"Yes. Alas, dragons are not known for their patience when confronted with a prize they have long sought.  I'm certain Mr. Johnson regrets your discomfort."  Samantha sounded almost sincere.  "Tommy, don't be a fool.  It will be far better for you, and your family, if you just give him the rock."

There it was.  Thinly veiled, not at all subtle, and right to my face.  Samantha was most likely watching my aura as it betrayed the anger that bloomed in me. Physically, visibly, I held my composure.  "Call him, I'll take him to the Place of Gates and we'll take care of business there.  Just the two of us, Samantha.  You aren't welcome in my home."

"You expect him to go in alone?" Samantha's eyebrows arched in surprise.

"Come on. You and I both know he's practically immortal." I let frustration eek into my voice and my expression. "He's got no reason more reason to be afraid of me than you do.  You're both far more powerful than I am, or are likely to become."

"We're not fools, Tommy.  If you try anything, you'll not live long enough to regret it."  Samantha's voice was the same calm professional tone I was accustomed to.  She was a frightening woman, capable of ordering people to be killed and equally capable of ordering her own people to their deaths.

"Call him.  I'm sure he isn't worried."  I leaned forward and gave her my best hate-filled stare.

Samantha rolled her eyes at my efforts and hit a button on the commlink built into her own desk.  "Sir, he's agreeable but on certain terms.  He wants you to come alone with him to the 'Place' for the exchange."

There was a pregnant silence before a familiar, deep baritone replied. "Excellent. I'll have my car pulled around up front, have him meet me immediately."

"Of course, sir." Samantha replied.  The connection broke and Samantha stared at me pointedly. "I believe you know the way."

"I do." I rose and turned toward the door. "Oh, Samantha?"

"What is it, Machine?" she asked.  Over my shoulder I saw that she had turned her attention to the display on her desk.

"You never should have mentioned my family." My left hand was already extended, the fingers crooked in a gesture of offensive power.  Samantha's eyes went wide and her hands came up in warding gesture that would certainly have broken any spell I sent her way.

In my right hand my viper slivergun made three soft 'pfftt' sounds.  Samantha Goode's head snapped back, half of her skull blown away, her brains splattered across the wall behind her.  I opened my astral sight and saw that her life and considerable magical power had vanished.  I put three more rounds into her chest, just to be certain.

I hurried over to her side, and ripped the health monitor from her left wrist.  It hadn't had time to register anything more than a sudden spike in her blood pressure. "Dishonorable and unprofessional. You should have known better." I took her right hand and thumbed the 'do not disturb' button on her desk control panel.

Samantha Goode had been a beautiful and powerful woman.  The caseless flechette rounds had done away with her beauty, power and her life.   I took my old burner phone out of my pocket and dropped it into her lap.  I holstered my viper,  cast a quick charm to clear the air of the stench of cordite, then wiped away my astral signature from the rooms astral space.

As I headed toward the door Samantha's corpse slid from her chair to land lifelessly on the floor.  I walked out, my face a composed and emotionless mask.  To Samatha's assistant I said, "She asked that she not be disturbed. Something about a divination she needed to perform."

"Oh, thank you Machine." she replied with a bright smile.

I walked in the elevator, commanded it to take me to the lobby.  I reached out to Rose and Lily, our mental and spiritual connection making the communication as easy as if they were in the same room.  "Girls. Rapture." I felt a jolt of surprise from both of them.

"Yes, father." their voices came back to me in unison.  I just hoped it wasn't the last time I would ever hear them.

As I walked out onto the street, Mr. Johnson's limo pulled up.  Danny got out and opened the door for me.  "Thank you." I told him as I climbed into the back of the beautiful car, to sit across from the dragon pretending to be a man.

"Machine." Mr. Johnson smiled. "So good of you to come to your senses."

"Well, I had to think of my future. The family, all that." I replied.

"Wise." His perfect teeth and stormy eyes seemed alive with satisfaction. "I understand you're getting a rather large bonus, for all the great work you've done.  Well deserved, I'd say."

"That is what I understand." I said.  A thin smile crept onto my face. We rode in silence the rest of the way, pulling up into my driveway an hour later.

I walked Mr. Johnson to my front door, thumbed the biometric scanner and stepped in as door swung wide for me.  "Please do come in."

Mr. Johnson stepped in to my house while Danny stood outside near the limo.  "It's far quieter than I would expect.  Particularly with two infants about."  Mr. Johnson commented.

"Aria must have taken the girls somewhere."  I replied.

"I see.  It's a smaller house than I expected.  Somehow I thought you would have put your pay into grander accommodations."  The dragon looked about, his human eyes taking in my home with analytical eyes.

"It serves my needs, and I'm comfortable here." I told him. "Shall we get this over with?"

I walked into the kitchen, and opened the door to the stairs that lead to my basement. "Yes, I sense there is power below us.  You seem far more resourceful than I gave you credit for." Mr. Johnson's eyes narrowed at me. "You do realize that even with the power of your sanctum, you are no match for me."

"I know." I replied.  "Doesn't mean I have to like it, but its true."  I walked down into my basement.  Mr. Johnson, the dragon disguised as a man, followed.

My safe was open, and empty.  The girls had followed my orders, it seemed.  I gestured to the circle I had carved into the basement floor. "I'm certain you can see the font of the power here." I stepped into the circle and sat myself on the cold floor. "If you wouldn't mind?" I gestured to a space within the circle across from me.

I reached into my pocket and wrapped my hand around the small piece of chipped stone.  Power hummed through my body and I opened myself to the astral and watched as mists began to flow from the orb of light into my basement.  "The way will open shortly." I said.

"I am ready." the dragon's thought voice rang all around me.

I floated into the blazing light before me, the dragon close behind me, to emerge in the waters surrounding the gate.  I kicked against the currents and shot upward, breaking the surface of the choppy sea.  All around, ghostly images were manifested and displacing the sea.  The water churned from whirlpools into other worlds, planes, and far flung places on Earth.  A whisper of power floated me out of the sea and onto the isle of rock.  Atop the stone spire, the totem blazed with light and warmth.

Mr. Johnson, erupted from the water turning in air as his body elongated and wings erupted behind him.  The dragon turned with profound, serpentine grace.  Gliding through the air as its thought voice carried a laugh that made my stomach weak.

"AT LAST!" It roared.

I leaped into the air, and flew toward the gate leading to the hellhole beneath Lac Assal.  Behind me, the dragon's laughter turned to a roar of rage.

"WHAT TRICKERY IS THIS!?!?!" It roared. "FOOLISH LITTLE MAGI!"

I shot through the gate, into the ancient tower beneath Lac Assal.  The dragon was close behind.  He shimmered, changing his shape and shrinking to fit through the opening.  I soared past the dais, passed a dozen boxes labeled "Cinnamon Rolls" and soared out into the darkened ruins. The flaming spirits Creep had brought into existence, had long since been vanquished by the monsters in the dark.

I flew as fast as I could, the dragon's roar behind me giving me more than enough reason to run for my life.

The dragon shot out of the tower above and behind me, twisted and shimmered in mid-air as it assumed its full draconic form then roared at me. "GIVE ME THE STONE OR DIE!"

I plummeted toward the dark waters below.  The surface was beginning to break as monstrous forms clawed for the surface, the dragon's wrath waking them from the deep.  I reigned in three meters above the water, praying it was enough to stay out of reach.  I gripped the small piece of stone like it was my only lifeline, and hardened my will against the spell I was certain was soon to come.

The dragon did not disappoint me.

The force of the spell knocked me head over heels as the force of it met my defenses.  Whatever power the small stone could lend me was just enough to keep me from falling victim to the dragon's sorcery.  The spell fell on me like a truck, struck my mystical defenses, and both mana constructs exploded in a kaleidoscope of lights and colors.  Mr. Johnson, the angriest dragon I had ever seen, dove toward me.

I'm not going to lie, I pissed a little. The dragon was larger, more powerful and faster than I.  I was smaller, and darted in close to the pillar we had just exited, flying as fast I could back toward the portal.  I reached into the Faraday pocket hidden on the breast of my form-fitting body armor and pulled out the small plastic box that Crank had given me.

I hit the button on the right and prayed I had done it right.  Below me, turning with unnatural ease, Mr. Johnson gave chase.  From the water beneath the dragon, a large hand grasped the dragon's tail.  It ignored the monster clinging to it, and surged upward after me.

A scream of fright escaped me and I darted through the entrance, and flew back through the portal and over the water.  Behind me, Mr. Johnson shook off the monster that dangled from his tail, shimmered as he once again shrunk his shape.  He flashed forward, wings catching on the entrance as he continued his transformation.  His neck elongating over the dais and the scattered boxes.

"GIVE IT TO ME!!!!" He roared.

I pointed the little plastic box toward the gate as the dragon's head forced its way over the threshold. I pressed the left button and prayed.

Inside each of the cardboard boxes a red diode light flashed as the detonator within fired a charge into the ten kilograms of military grade explosives Crank had packed in.  The explosions ripped against the stone tower and the dragon trying to squirm through it.  Stone yielded, blowing out over the churning blackened waters.

The dragon's expression of rage froze forever as the portal collapsed, severing its head just past the first segmented scales of its neck.  Its battered corpse, plummeted into the littered ruins as its head fell into the pristine waters of the Place of Gates. A horde of ravenous monstrosities fell upon the corpse. The stone archway, the portal back to that hellish cavern hidden beneath Lac Assal, collapsed.  The dragon's head and the lintel stones plunged into the waters.

I gave myself several minutes to regain my calm, then plunged into the waters.  I spent hours beneath the waves, gathering small pieces of stone from the base of several whirlpools.  I drifted into the physical world, finding strange places and one that was frighteningly familiar.  Finally, I found the dragon's severed head, grasped it by a scale and one large tooth, and dragged it to the surface.  I lay it at the base of the tower, wary for any signs of life.

"It's mine you know." I said.  "I won't give this to you."  I looked out over the sea, the phantom images of other worlds and of distant places on Earth.  It was at that moment the scope of it hit me. It was mine.


January 17th, 2061

1308 hours, Seattle Metroplex local time

I walked out of my house for the last time.  Danny was still waiting with the limo.  I strode forward, a perfect smile on my face.

"Sir, will Machine be joining us?"  Danny asked.

"No.  The Machine is broken it seems." I turned and saw the smoke as it began to curl out of the garage.  "We should go.  The fire department will be here shortly. Seems there was an accident. A shame, that."

Danny opened the door for me and I slid into the limo.  I pulled Tommy "The Machine" Gunne's commlink from my pocket.  Opened a new text message to a certain decker, typed in 'Rapture' and hit the send button.  Seconds later the commlink shut down, its memory wiped and factory reset underway.

In Samantha Goode's office my old burner phone received one last call.  The small explosive charge laced with half a gram of white phosphorous detonated.  The fire in Samantha Goode's office went unnoticed for several minutes, the fire detection and suppression system having 'inexplicably' failed. Samantha's assistant noticed an odd smell and discovered Samantha's office engulfed in flames.

I rode back to the office and discovered the building surrounded by fire fighters and police contractors.

"Seems there is trouble at the office, sir." Danny said. "Will you call it day then?"

I gave Danny a stunning smile and peered at him with my stormy blue grey eyes.  "Danny, I'm feeling like a bit of air.  Take the rest of the day off.  I'll go for a walk."

"Very good sir." Danny got out of the limo and opened my door.

I stepped out onto wet street, slick with water from fire hoses and the afternoon's acid rain.  "I'll see you tomorrow Danny."  I turned and walked toward the corner coffee shop.  Behind me Danny climbed back into the limo and pulled away into the mass of traffic. I stopped and admired my reflection in the window of the coffee shop.  Mr. Johnson's face, perfect teeth and stormy eyes looked good on me.

The small stones in my pocket hummed with power as I wove the invisibility spell around me.   I vanished from sight, even as I vanished into the crowd.  It was a long walk to the famous Fairmont Olympic Hotel.

I found Angel waiting on me.  It was time for me to disappear into the shadows once more.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading my fan fiction.

I hope you have enjoyed the "Art of War" story arc.  I also develop RPG material (though not for Shadowrun) as well as comic books.  You can support those efforts, as well as gain access to behind the scenes insights and subscriber content but subscribing on my Drip page. (Drip is similar to Patreon but is owned by KickStarter).

You can check out my Drip page HERE

I hope you'll join me as I continue to tell the stories of Tommy's adventures.

These tales are based upon game play and have been fictionalized to make them easier, and hopefully more fun, to read.

If you enjoy these stories, please do share them with others.

Thank you!

The Art of War, Part Five: Move Swiftly

"In war, move swiftly as the wind, as closely-formed as the wood.  Attack like the raging fire and be still and quiet like the mountain.
~Sun Tzu, The Art of War
___________________________________________

I hurt all over.

The dragon's roar had pummeled my whole body.  Beneath my torn and bloodied suit, my form-fitting body armor had mitigated some of the worst of the impacts. My hands and face weren't so lucky.

My healing spell was holding under the force of my will, knitting tissues back together and regenerating the subtle injuries.  The ringing in my ears dimmed, then faded away.  I looked around my office, my mind still running down the plan I had begun concocting in the elevator.

"Rose, I need you." My thought voice reach out across the distance like she was in the same room.  A blink later Rose, my first ally spirit, my oldest spirit daughter appeared next to me.

She looked like a young elf girl.  The form belying the terrific power she possesses. "Father, you are covered in blood."  There was concern in her thought voice.  It was so easy to forget she was a spirit.

"It's okay, its mine."  I started pulling off my ruined suit. "I want you to go out into the hall and elevator beyond.  Destroy any and all samples of my blood there."

"Certainly, father." She strode through my door.  I heard a startled yelp from the corridor.

The commlink on my desk chimed, the tune telling me that Aria was calling.

My tingling fingers found the answer button and Aria's face appeared in the holo, a worried expression plainly visible.  "Tommy? Honey, Rose just vanished.  Are you okay? I can't see you."

"I've had better days."  I said. "I needed her here for something, I'll send her home shortly.  How are you and the girls doing since I left?"

"Don't you change the subject on me." The tone of her voice suddenly reminded me of her mother.  I cringed.

"Sorry baby.  I'll come home early today if I can." I pulled off my blood stained shirt as quickly as I could.

"Tommy.  Let me see you."  He voice had softened a bit.  Worry was rising in her face.

Drek.  I stepped around so the holocam could capture my image. I hadn't had time to wash my face yet and I could feel the blood sticking to my upperlip and taste it in my mouth.  "Hi, honey." I said.

Aria gasped.  I saw her face tense as her emotions ran the gamut from surprise to scared, worried to enraged before settling into a tense mask, a pale imitation of her mother's own expressionless working face.  "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm hurt but the magic is holding. I'll be okay in a few minutes, and cleaned up once I can get to the bathroom."  I shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly very self-conscious. "I'm sorry honey, I didn't want to worry you."

"You come home, Tommy." Aria's voice was tense.  I saw tears beginning to well up in the corners of her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am." I replied. "I love you, I'll be home as soon as I can."

"I love you too. I'll get the first aid kit out."  She replied.  "Should I call mom?"

"No." I answered quickly, reflexively. "No.  I'm fine.  I may call Crank tonight though."

"Okay, I'll have the grocery delivery send ribs then." A tear escaped and ran down Aria's cheek. "You come home to me, Tommy."

"On my way as soon as I can, baby."  I told her.

My wife cut the connection, leaving me alone in the office.  I grabbed my rucksack and pulled out my 'working' clothes.  Replacing them with my bloodied suit.  My thoughts continued to pile up around the plan fomenting in my mind.  Rose drifted through my office door, materialized and sat herself on the corner of my desk.

"I have sterilized the blood samples, father. Your injuries are healing well." Her voice drifted comfortably through my mind.  "Shall I do violence upon who ever did this to you?"

"No, thank you anyway baby-girl." My own thought voice reached her and she frowned.  "I don't want you tangling with what did this.  You're too important to risk and he's far too powerful."

"I can do violence, father." Rose's reply carried a hurt tone.

"I know.  You are very powerful and I'm not making light of your abilities." I reached out and lay my hand on hers. "As strong as you are, this is more so.  I won't risk your life like that."

Rose frowned at that. "You think I could be destroyed?"

"Yes, Rose.  I think there is a good chance that this foe would defeat you and either destroy you or enslave you.  I won't have either."  I smiled up at her. "Don't worry.  I think I have a plan."

*****

January 15th, 2061
1615 hours, Seattle Metroplex local time

I left my office and took the stairs to the landing pad on the 95th floor. The invisibility spell I had wrapped around myself hid me from the watchful eyes of the maintenance bots that prowled there.  I took a running start, and leapt from off the east side of the landing pad, plummeting like a stone toward the pavement below.

I reached out into the astral plane, calling for the air elemental I had bound.  I was soaring past the fiftieth floor when the elemental spirit manifested and arrested my fall.  I soared away, carried aloft by the winds to my home.  I landed in the back yard and let the invisibility spell unravel.

I closed my eyes and opened myself to Lily's senses.  She was in the twins' room, standing guard over them as they were nearing the end of an afternoon nap.  My perspective shifted suddenly as I peered through Rose's eyes and saw Aria in the kitchen, her face wrinkled up in frustration as smoke streamed up from the skillet in front of her.  She had burned something and judging from the odor Rose was smelling, it had once been bacon.

I opened my eyes and my own astral senses and peered about the yard.  I walked around the house, looking everywhere for any sign of astral surveillance.  It must have looked odd, me walking around and looking behind the shrubs and up in the tree that grew in my backyard.  I saw astral impressions of myself enjoying quiet, peaceful moments; old impressions of the prior owners and summer bar-b-ques with their extended families; spectral bloodstains marred the scene, the aftermath of my escape from the arcology; and vivid impressions of Violent and Jasmine laying in the fall leaves, giggling up at Aria, Rose and Lily.

It was beautiful.

The astral surveillance I expected wasn't there.  I was barking at shadows but told myself it was best to be careful.  The security panel chimed as it recognized my thumb and retinal patterns, unlocking my back door for me.  I walked in to the sound of Aria cursing, the smell of bacon burning, and the gentle waking noises of the twins.

"I'll get the girls." I said.  I set my rucksack down, and darted through the living room and into the twins' bedroom.  They were starting to fuss, each waking the other up with their little noises.

Lily, turned to me as I walked into the room. "Stinky material is appearing in the diapers.  Prepare yourself, father, they ate peaches earlier."

I nodded knowingly as the first hint of foul diapers reached my nose.  "Right on time then. Thank you baby-girl. Can you get new diapers for me, please."  A whisper of power and a time trusted levitation spell lifted the girls from their cribs and onto the changing table.  They were still defiling their diapers and were not amused by being moved yet.  Violet began to cry and Jasmine took up the chorus with her.  Lily laid a diaper next to each twin, then pulled out the wipes.

We did battle with a foulness the likes of which I cannot describe.

1625 hours

I tasked poor Lily with disposing of the diapers and emptying the pail.  The fact that she has since forgiven me for having her do this speaks well of her capacity for mercy.  Twins in hand, I walked into the living room. Aria was putting in a delivery order on her commlink while Rose was cleaning up the aftermath in the kitchen.

"I'm ordering in.  I burned the bacon, forgot to defrost the chicken and forgot to turn on the oven so the rolls are cold." Aria, finished keying in the order and turned to look at me.  "Well, at least you're not covered in blood anymore."

Jasmine pulled playfully at my ear while Violet's little fingers pinched my cheek. 

"I'm sorry you saw that honey. I didn't mean to worry you." I said. 

"Not now. Later." she replied.  Aria walked over and wrapped her arms around me and the twins. The scent of honeysuckle and vanilla was comfort.  Violet abandoned her efforts to pull my cheek off and grabbed two little fists full of Aria's hair.

"Now, now Violet, we don't pull mommy's hair, baby-girl." Aria told her. 

We spent the remainder of the afternoon and early evening playing with the twins.  Rose and Lily were vigilant, waiting and watching for trouble I was certain was coming.  To my surprise and relief, no one tried to kill us. 

That evening Rose and Lily stood watch over the twins while they slept.  Aria and I had a long talk in the shower.  The sound of the running water would help defeat any listening devices.  Honest.  Aria accused me of making up that excuse so I could see her naked.  While she isn't wrong about a part of that, having conversations such as we had that night, under the cover noise of running water all around you is a great way to defeat and confuse directional microphones.  You'll have to take my word for that.

*****

January 17th, 2061
0200 hours,  Seattle Metroplex local time

Crank and Ratchet arrived in a Bakery delivery truck.  Ratchet backed the vehicle up to my garage door and killed the lights.  I opened the garage, and had an earth element conceal the truck and garage from outside scrutiny.  It took us about fifteen minutes to unload the boxes into my garage.

"Angel says take this and get rid of your old burner.  Something about its protocols being old enough to rise eyebrows."  Crank said as he handed me a clear plastic back with a new (to me) commlink. 

"New burner, sub-zero." I said.  I looked up at Crank, "thanks, omae. I appreciate this."  I pushed the fist full of credsticks into his hand.

"You going to need some help with that?" he asked. 

"Yes, but where I'm putting it is, well, a bit out of the way."  I glanced over at the plain cardboard boxes.  They were labeled 'Cinnamon Rolls'. "If you don't mind the trip, I could certainly use a hand."

"Sure thing, same rate as usual though.  Thousand nuyen a day, another thousand if I get shot at." Crank's response strangely reassuring.

"Good, we've got a deal then."  I shook the big man's hand.


0505 hours, Seattle Metroplex local time

Crank was still cursing as he climbed into the back of the Ratchet's delivery truck.  "I swear, I'm NEVER doing that again."  He rang his fingers through his damp hair, cursing at the slime that stuck to his hands.  "This is what magicians do at home?!?! Glad I'm just street muscle."

"Magically enhanced street muscle." I corrected him. "You've got your own edge, omae."  I smiled as he glanced back toward Ratchet's sleeping form.

"Oi!" he raised his finger in front of his lips, shushing me. "Anyway, use the new burner if you need me.  You want me to ditch the other?"

"Nah, I have plans for that one." I smiled at the thought.  I think I saw Crank shiver.

"Okay, alright then." Crank fished around in his pocket and handed me a small blue plastic box with a pair of buttons and two small diode lights on it.  "Remember to hit the right button, or you'll never have time to regret it."

The tiny box seemed so small, insignificant.  There was a certain wonder to it as I contemplated just how dangerous it was.   "Will do.  Thanks, Crank."

"See you in the shadows. Don't get lit up." With that he pulled down the truck's door.  I heard him roust Ratchet, listened as its electric engine whirred to life, and watched as they pulled away. 

"Best hundred thousand nuyen I've ever spent." I said to myself. 

I closed my garage door and dismissed the earth elemental.  The twins were sleeping peacefully.  Aria was awake, sitting at the kitchen table while Rose and Lily cooked.  I smelled fresh coffee, bacon and what I suspected were biscuits. 

Aria looked up over the lip of her cup and smiled at me. "Good morning baby.  Did you get what you needed?"

"Sure did, we've got enough cinnamon rolls to last us a lifetime." She took my hand and smiled. "But that bacon smells like heaven."

"It will be done in a couple of minutes, father." Lily said.

"The eggs will take a few minutes longer. You have time to shower." Rose added.

"That sounds like a good idea." I stood and kissed Aria's cheek.  "Be right back, honey."

******

0815 hours

I walked into my office and placed my rucksack on my desk.  The old burner phone rested comfortably in my pocket.  It was a little heavier than was normal, but I wouldn't be using it anymore.  The commlink built into my desk blinked its green warning icon at me. I had a message waiting for me.

"Play message" I said.  I pulled off my coat and hung it off the corner of my chair. 

'You have, one message.  From:  Control' beep  "Machine, when you get this I want you in my office asap." Samantha's voice carried a hint of irritation in it.  The time stamp on it indicated yesterday afternoon. 

"Call Control" I said flatly.  The call feature rang twice before Samantha's secretary picked up.

"Machine, Ms. Goode wishes to see you." she said. 

"Put me through to her please." I replied. 

"Very well, sir."

There was a moment of silence before the line picked up. "Machine." Samantha said. "Come up to my office."

"Certainly." I replied. "Am I to expect to be beaten and bounced around the room again?"

"Don't be a child.  It's unbecoming."  With that she broke the connection. 

I drew the slivergun from my shoulder holster, thumbed the safety and chambered a round. "Right,  time to go to work."

*******************************

Thank you for reading my fan fiction.

I apologize for the delay in getting this latest part of "The Art of War" story arc released.  I have been working to complete the final bits of Whispers of Persephone by writing and formatting in the backer reward pieces for those backers who had their names added as characters to the book and on the obituaries for the Fallen Heroes backers.  It has been fun and very busy!

I also write and develop RPG material (not for Shadowrun though, unfortunately).  So if you are a fan of Gary's game, I release a lot of material under the OGL. I am also developing an original role playing game, which Drip members will see in play test version in 2019.  You can also support my efforts to create cool, original RPG content by subscribing to my Drip page.  Subscribers have access to behind the scenes information, first glance at coming release material, play test material, and there is also a monthly PDF release for subscribers in the $3 and higher tiers.  Check it out by going to my Drip page HERE.

I hope you'll join me next time as we conclude "The Art of War" story arc.  Strap in and hold on chummers, its going to get dark in these shadows.

The Art of War, Part Four: Fight without fighting

"The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting."                                                              - Sun Tzu, The Art of War
_____________________________________


Molten copper scales caught the light and rasped against themselves as the dragon surged forward.

My spell enhanced reflexes, which had served me so well in the past, were not up to the task.  The dragon's hand grasped my chest. I was hurled up and backward to be pinned against the wall.  The strange scent of the creature hit me even as my astral sight was assaulted by the sheer brilliant power that held me fast.

"I said, give it to me.  NOW."  My skull rang from the force of dragon's thoughts battering their way into my mind.

"No." I gasped.

The beast growled and plumes of strange smoke surged from its flaring nostrils.

I was terrified. There is no shame in admitting fear, chummers.  Fear saves your hoop more often than your trusty sidearm.  Fear informs you of danger, triggers your reflexes, gets the adrenaline flowing and generally does heavy duty in the task of keeping you alive.  Dragons, they radiate an aura of power that generates bladder releasing terror. My fear was too real, and threatened to overwhelm me.  I looked into that maw filled with teeth that would make a shark jealous and wanted to scream.

"I'm losing my patience, ape!" The thought voice rang in my skull. "GIVE. IT. TO. ME."

"No." I managed to squeak. I saw the anger blooming in the dragon as it fought to control its terrible wrath.  My mind became quiet and clear as I saw death before me.  The great beast was stronger, faster, smarter and far more magically powerful than I would ever be. It was going to kill me with no more thought than going over a speed bump.

"Machine, hand him the stone." Samantha said firmly. I couldn't see her, but her voice carried that same clear tone of command.

"No means no, Control." I replied.

The dragon roared and my ears rang.  Blood erupted from my nose and ears, my eyes stung from the force of the air blasting past me.  I was thrown onto the leather couch near the floor to ceiling window that overlooked downtown Seattle.  It flipped backwards and I was spilled onto the immaculate floor.

"I WILL PRY IT FROM YOUR COLD DEAD HANDS!!!" the voice hit my mind and pushed my face to the cold floor.

I thrust my hand into my pocket and pulled out the small stone, light erupting from between my fingers.  My intuition screamed at me to run, my mind was numb from the shock of the telepathic assault,  but in that moment a sliver of inspiration hit me.  I was pushing myself up from the floor when a cackle escaped my throat. "Great. I've gone as crazy as Creep" I thought to myself.  I laughed anyway.  The thought crawling through my mind was too ridiculous to be real.

The dragon stopped and roared at me again.  My left eye began to bleed as the capillaries in my tear ducts ruptured from the impact.

"Pry it from MY cold dead hands?  Sure you can, but then it would never be yours, would it?" I snapped at him.  The more I thought about it the more it made sense.  The dragon could have invaded my mind and made me give it over, could have torn my arms off and pulled it from my pocket, or just had Samatha fry me in my seat then pull the charred stone off my corpse.  But he didn't and there it was.

I held the small stone in the palm of my hand, light bathing the room and my bloodied hands.  "You're going to TAKE this from me?  Waste a perfectly good asset over a piece of stone?  It's mine. It likes me.  I've claimed it and in spite of whatever you may want me to believe, I know it in my soul that this stone would never accept you if you took it."  I looked up at the dragon, its fury plainly obvious.  "If you took it, it would never be yours.  That is the trick, isn't it?  You want me to 'give' it to you.  You toss me around the office but don't kill me.  Dragon's aren't stupid, you know I can't defeat you, but I could certainly get lucky." Blood ran down my cheek, out of my ears and onto my suit. "You can't have it.  And, unless you want to terminate our contract right now, you'll get the frag out of my way.  I need to change."

I was pretty sure I had fragged up for the last time in my life at that point.  No one said anything for a very long moment.  Samantha's aura was brilliant in its naked power but the dragon's aura blazed in its wrath.

"No one defies me, little mage." his thought voice was loud, but firmly controlled.  The menace dripping from the words into my mind.

"No one steals from me." I replied.

The dragon stared at me with inhuman eyes, the gleam of its scales softening as its form shifted back to the familiar form of the most terrifying man I had ever met.  A wave of his hand collected the shreds of his clothing into a twirling mass of fabric that swarmed over this body, joining together until he once again wore the same immaculate suit he had shredded with his transformation. His eyes gradually shifted back to the stormy blue-grey, his aura becoming that of a perfectly mundane human.

He smiled at me, his thought voice once again invading my mind. "I didn't think you would understand the significance.  I underestimated you." He walked over next to Samantha and gestured toward the door.

"I'll take that as a compliment." I said as I limped out of Samantha's office.

I wove the healing spell as soon as I passed the receptionist desk, holding it fast to myself as I called the elevator. I rode the metal box to the 87th Floor, got off and started walking toward my office.  There were several weapon specialists who fell silent and stepped aside as I walked past them.  The blood on my hands and clothes were my own, I had no doubt I had left some on the carpet and the elevator floors.  Fey was waiting at my door.  When she saw me approaching, she stiffened.

"Machine?!? What the frag?" she took a step toward me but I raised my hand.

"I want a sit rep on Creep and Jazz asap.  Verify the data personally.  Take four men with you, weapons free."  I told her.

"What?" she stopped cold, confusion on her face.

"Move it." my voice was low and firm. I didn't leave room for questions in my tone.  Fey nodded and darted off, calling out names to the FNG's I had just passed in the hall.  I entered my office and locked my door behind me.

{Continued in part five}
---------

Thank you for reading my fan fiction!

I hope you are enjoying this story. If you do, please share it with others.

I hope you join me for Part five.

The Art of War, Part Three: Know your enemy as you know yourself

“The art of using troops is this:
~ When ten to the enemy’s one, surround him
~ When five times his strength, attack him
~ If double his strength, divide him
~ If equally matched you may engage him
~ If weaker numerically, be capable of withdrawing
~ And if in all respects unequal, be capable of eluding him... for a small force is but booty for one more powerful.”
– Sun Tzu, the Art of War
______________________


January 13th, 2061
0745 hours, Seattle Metroplex local time

Redacted office tower, 87th Floor conference room

Samantha Goode was less than thrilled that I had taken three days of my allotted leave time.  "There are potential missions being evaluated. I trust you are fit for duty?"  Her voice was cold and aloof.

"I'm fine." I replied. "Mr. Johnson seemed rather interested in the metaplane he called 'The Place of Gates'.  You wouldn't happen to know if any knowledge of that place held any interest, would you?"

Samantha's eyebrows arched. "You didn't."

She was a frighteningly powerful magician, but I managed to look her in the eye anyway. "I did, though admittedly by accident.  That's not all though.  I managed to bring a few things back with me." 

I opened the buckle on my rucksack and spilled out the meager contents.  The credstick, pocket secretary and enchanted tiepin of a dead man slid out on the table.  A plastic bag holding a single chipped piece of stone, no larger than a golf ball, got hung on my pack's heavy stitching and forced me to upend the bag to dump it out. 

Samantha didn't move, but under my astral sight I saw her open herself and awaken her astral perception.  The dead man's things were lifeless, gray silhouettes resting on the table. The tiepin held a soft aura, its power inert as it wasn't bound to a living being.
 
Across from me the astral echo of Flick's suicide clung tenaciously to the wall.  I usually made an effort to sit with my back to it so I wouldn't be confronted with the image of Flick's terrified soul vanishing into nothingness. There had been attempts to cleanse it from the room, but it always reappeared.  Flick's terror haunted the room and always would.  Samantha ignored it, as she always had.

"You don't mean to tell me you found mundane items in a metaplane." Her eyes lingered on the tiepin then on the stone. "Unless," she paused "... you accessed the plane via a spirit gate.  Did you?  Did you find a spirit to open the way?"

"No.  Nothing like that actually."  I replied.  "Sit down, this is going to take a while."  I began the tale with my trip down into my basement, and carried all the way through my return.  Samantha watched me intently, her astral gaze heavy upon me.  She wasn't concealing her power from me and under my astral sight she was a blazing fountain of magical power.  Trying to lie to her was an idea I considered too stupid to entertain. 

"I did some matrix searching and turned up a missing person report, with an image file that matched the dead guy." I concluded.  "Now I'm bringing his stuff to you, figured Mr. Johnson might want it looked at."

"That's rather thoughtful." Samantha replied. "What of the focus and the stone?" 

"The focus isn't mine. It belonged to the dead guy.  As far as I'm concerned you can analyze that too." I paused and picked up the small plastic bag holding the stone.  "This is mine though. I'm sorry but I'm keeping this.  I brought it because I thought you may want to see something." 

Samantha's expression didn't change, her aura betrayed a slight curiosity before she reigned in her control.  I opened the bag and dropped the stone onto my open palm. Light exploded from chipped stone the moment it touched my skin. "I think it likes me." I said.

I watched as Samantha's aura changed from one of unrestrained power to one of a perfectly normal mundane woman. She stood and collected the dead man's possessions from the table. "You're right. It is yours."  With that she walked stiffly from the briefing room, leaving me alone with the astral imprint of Flick's dying moments. 

I raised my right hand, the small stone blazing away in my left, and put an effort of will and magic into a prayer I aimed at the wall. "Rest in peace, Flick." The mana left me and wiped the astral stain of pain and fear from the room.  It would return in a few days, it always did, but for the moment I felt as if I had given her some measure of relief.

January 15th, 2061
0900 hours, Seattle Metroplex local time

Jazz was still in a coma.  Creep was under sedation.  Fey was pissing me off.

"I'm telling you Machine," she insisted. "you're too picky. Just grab some wiz-kid, make her an offer she can't refuse and BOOM!  New magician!"

"Fey, you don't know what you're talking about." I replied.  "Magicians aren't all the same.  We're not AK-97s you can just buy off the back of a truck.  I was a wiz-kid once and there is no way in Creep's personal Hell I would have been able to cut it in the situations we end up in."

"Creep is drek-headed lunatic and we're better off without him." Fey fired back. "That chummer is out of his mind and just as dangerous to the team as anything else I've seen in the brief time I'm been on this crazy job."

"He's a lunatic, but he's OUR lunatic. He's also out of the picture for the foreseeable future.  I'll find the magician we need, not one that we have to worry about.  In the meantime, you put the weapon specialists through their paces, get all the FNGs* up to speed on our communications, and get that requisition in for more incendiary weapons. We got lucky to get out alive, Creep lost his mind helping us escape and Jazz may not survive at all." I pulled out the guest seat in front of my desk and gestured to it, then seated myself in my own chair. 

"How fraggin' crazy are we expecting things to get?" Fey asked tersely. "We've got most of a damn platoon assembled now.  What the Hell are you expecting?"

"Fey," I said firmly. "You've not seen the worst of things, yet.  Before you came on I saw things that were, individually, far more dangerous than those creatures in the ruins.  There are things out there that don't have names because the metahuman mind can't wrap itself around the existence of them.  Creatures which are so alien to our existence that our minds are strained just to look upon them." 

Her face flushed as her temper rose.

"I'm not feeding you bull-drek here. The weapon specialists are there to handle the things we can kill with bullets and fire and explosives.  The magicians are there for the things that don't die that way."  Her aura flickered at that as realization hit her.  She was still angry but she was fighting to reign it in. "You're damn good, Fey.  I wouldn't let you stand in Jazz's spot if you weren't. Don't mistake this though. I'm not in command because I'm a magician.  I'm in command because I get the job done, because Jazz didn't want command and because everyone else who could have been in this job is dead. Keep asking questions, but do it in here so we can talk it out."

"What are we going to do next?" she asked.

"Same thing we do every time." A smile crept across my face. "We kill monsters."

1358 hours, Seattle Metroplex local time

The panel on my desk lit up with a call.  Samantha Goode's face blinked in the contact panel. I activated the answer button.

"Machine, can you come up to my office please?"  The question was a politely veiled order.

"Certainly.  Now, or did you have a time in mind?" 

"Come on up." Samantha replied, then the call ended.

"Drek." I swore.  I locked the drawers on my desk and grabbed my rucksack before I leaving my office.  I passed a handful of FNGs* who were dressed for 'the office' and discussing the virtues of the latest assault rifle as they walked toward the break area.  I took the elevator up and was met by Samantha's personal assistant (I never did learn that woman's name), who escorted me to Samantha's office.

"Enter", Samantha's voice carried nicely through a concealed speaker on the door.

I walked into her office and discovered that Samantha Goode wasn't alone.

"Machine, it is good to see you." Mr. Johnson's voice reached my mind but not my ears. "You've been wandering about in strange places."

He sat in Samantha's chair, his hands folded on the desk in front of him.  His eyes were the same storm of blue and grey.  Under my astral sight he looked every bit the normal, perfectly mundane mortal.  I was convinced it was all a lie. To his right, Samantha Goode stood with an unreadable expression upon her face.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Johnson." I replied. "I wasn't expecting to see you today."

"You should hone your intuition then." He smiled back at me, his lips parted to reveal a perfectly radiant smile while his thought voice flowed over my mind. "After all, you did practically demand this meeting."

"I'm afraid I don't understand." I said.

"Come now!" I winced as my skull echoed with his unspoken words. "You come into the office with evidence of a metaplanar incursion, plant the possessions of another operative on the conference room table, display your claim to the Place of Gates, and then claim that you don't understand?!?!"

It felt like I was being accused of something. "I didn't kill him. He was dead when I found him."

The smile vanished from Mr. Johnson's face. The blue vanished from his eyes leaving only stormy grey.  To my astral sight I caught just a glimpse of the power in the man as mana flashed behind his eyes.  A thin wisp of smoke flowed from his nose carrying with it a scent I didn't recognize. "You can't believe this has anything to do with one dead man."

The truth of my situation hit me suddenly: 'claim to the Place of Gates'.

With magic, there is a lot of significance to associations.  A drawing or mock-up of a thing can be used to affect that thing.  Bits of your clothing, hair, fingernails, blood or other body parts, can hold power over you. The same is often true of objects.  You can affect a building by using scrapes of paint you scratched off its surface or spy into a building by holding a light bulb stolen from its bathroom.  A piece of stone broken from the foundation of a metaplane may very well hold a degree of power over the place itself.

"I see illumination of the fact has finally reached you." Mr. Johnson's voice broke the silence in the room.  He was speaking, for which my skull was very thankful. "You have made a claim on the Place of Gates.  You have held the very foundation of that world in your hand and yet, I doubt you understand the significance."

"The building that manifested, the other gates, the whirlpools; all of them are incursions into that metaplane.  The plane is being invaded by other worlds, other realities."  It was a staggering thought.

Mr. Johnson's face hardened.

"This level of knowledge of the metaplanes is rarely seen in university educated magicians." Samantha interjected, "It is understandable that he may not fully realize the severity of his actions."

"Irrelevant." Mr. Johnson, snapped. He held his hand out to me and said, "Give it to me."

The hair on the back of my neck stood up.  Samantha's face was expressionless, utterly unreadable.  I felt the very real need to urinate but managed to maintain my composure and the sanctity of my clothing.  I looked at Mr. Johnson, the 'man' I most feared in all the world and, for a moment, I was going to hand over the little chip of stone.  I reached into my rucksack, fishing for the plastic bag and my hand bumped my menpo-style ballistic mask.

I looked down into the bag and saw the small bit of stone resting in its bag, lying in the eye of the mask. Something burned in the back of my mind, fighting against the fear of the man.  'Give' he had said.  There was something to that.

I put my hand on the mask and looked back to Mr. Johnson, his insistence was etched across his features.  Samantha Goode was motionless beside him.  The room seemed suddenly warmer and sweat broke out on my brow.

'Give it to me' he had said.  When Mr. Johnson had ever wanted something from me he had always offered something to me in return, its how I ended up working for him in the first place.  Now he was demanding my small stone, a token from a metaplanar day trip, and he wanted it badly.  'Give'?  It was out of character.

"I'm afraid I have to decline." I replied.  "It's mine, after all."

Smoke spiraled out of Mr. Johnson's nose.  That dreadful suspicion I had been harboring crept back into my mind. "What?" His voice was low and laced with menace.

"I'm saying, 'no'. I'm not going to give it to you." I replied.  "I was off work, at home and off the clock.  I recovered this stone on my own.  This is beyond our contractual relationship and I'm afraid I cannot give it to you."

"You're refusing me?" Mr. Johnson asked.

"I am." I gulped.  I couldn't help it, I was scared.

"You work for me." He hissed.

"I was off duty.  This is personal property." saying it out loud reinforced my failing courage.

"GIVE. IT. TO. ME." He stood, his hand thrust out to me.

I walked over to him and looked him his stormy eyes. The same strange scent hit me as smoke continued to stream from his nose. To my astral sight his eyes blazed like acetylene torches. Blinding if I were using my physical eyes to see them.  I was finally catching a glimpse of the true power of this 'man' I had been working for and it was terrifying.

I thought about Aria.  I thought about Pepper.  I thought about my twins and my powerful spirit daughters.  We stood there for a long two minutes while I stared into the crack in Mr. Johnson's façade.  Finally, I answered: "No."

My flesh and blood eyes saw Mr. Johnson's pupils elongate as his eyes changed.  His hair grew longer and thicker.  Scales the color of molten copper appeared on his skin as he suddenly grew larger, his neck elongating as his head changed shape and his body adopted wholly inhuman proportions and shredded his perfectly tailored suit.  A long tail erupted behind him and his bulk knocked the desk over, forcing me to jump away to avoid being pinned under his weight.

Where once the most formidable man I had ever met had stood making demands of me, now stood a dragon.  Its bulk tearing at the wall behind him and scattering the furniture.  Its eyes locked with mine and I heard Mr. Johnson's thought-voice ring painfully in my skull.  "I. SAID. GIVE. IT. TO. ME!"

There is an old saying in the Shadows, 'Never make a deal with a dragon'.  It's one of the first things you ever hear in the biz, and if you're really lucky its one of those things you'll never have a chance to test.

I'm not very lucky.

(Continued in ~ The Art of War, Part Four)

---------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading my fan fiction!

Recently I've heard from several readers who told me they enjoyed these tales.  I want to thank you folks particularly, as it is a fantastic thing to hear. 

I also write and publish role playing game material, though not for Shadowrun (unfortunately).  If there is ever an open game license for them though....

As of the release of this story I presently have a RPG sourcebook for necromancy for the 5th edition (of Gary's game) that is funding on KickStarter.  The link is below. Please do check that out, support it if you can, and please do spread the word by sharing it around on social media.  Every share is a fantastic opportunity for people to discover a KickStarter project and is greatly appreciated.

I also recently launched a page on Drip (KickStarter owns Drip), where I release content to subscribers.  You can check out my drip page HERE.  Please do take a look and share that with others as well.  Drip makes it possible for me to fund art for my monthly release and is great fun to create for.

Until Part Four, I hope you enjoyed this entry and I look forward to your comments either here, below or on social media.

Thank you!

The Art of War, Part two: Plan carefully

"Plan for what is difficult while it is easy, do what is great while it is small."
- Sun Tzu
____________________________________________________

I've gone on metaplanar quests before.  In each of those excursions I've had to confront the Dweller on the Threshold.  The Dweller has confronted me with terrible challenges in each of my quests.  I've confronted the ghosts of the people and creatures I've killed, confronted dead chummers and one dead girlfriend, been called to account for my crimes and sins and had my mind and soul battered.

This time the Dweller must have decided that enough was enough, because he was trying to cut me into small pieces.

"Who dares to approach!" The Dweller bellowed.  The ten meter tall, four-armed giant bore four glowing swords.  Each flickered as if they were on fire.

I was determined to show no fear, even though I felt it to the core of my being.  I shouted my name, my real name, to the Dweller and hoped against hope that it would let me pass.

"Tommy."  The Dweller growled.  "DIE!"  It lunged forward with all four swords.

I felt the heat from those blades as they passed within a centimeter of cutting me into ribbons.  My reflexes, though enhanced by powerful spells, were barely sufficient to keep me from being skewered.  My hand went for my gun by force of habit, only to find nothing there.

"Whimpering pup!"  The Dweller roared. "You DARE,  confront me!?!  I'll cut you to ribbons, then feast on your soul!"

I'm not going to lie to you. I was scared.  The Dweller moved with the fluid grace of a spirit, all quicksilver and shadow.  Swords flashed out at me and it was all I could do just to avoid being skewered.

"There are secrets beyond your grasp mortal!" A giant glowing sword flashed by my head.

"There is knowledge which you shall not possess!"  I ducked under two swords as they streaked above me.

"You think you are worthy to just reach for any knowledge, any power, just because you happen to see it?!?!  Power is not some low-hanging fruit for you to pluck!"  A flurry of strikes came at me. I jumped back, desperately trying not to die while the Dweller was making a fantastic effort to murder me.

"Your time is at an end, mortal!  Whether by my blade or by the passage of time, you will die!"  The Dweller pressed his attack. With those swords his reach was every bit of seven meters, making it all but impossible to get out of range. He was fast and looked strong enough to cleave me in half with little effort. "DIE, TOMMY! DIE!"

There was a primal rage in that voice.  I ducked, jumped and spun to keep myself alive but I hadn't managed a counterattack. It was just a matter of time before I would be dead.  The Dweller bellowed his challenge at me, a terrifying prospect made all the more urgent by the flash of blazing steel.  The Dweller raised his swords high, preparing for a flurry of strokes that would leave me as nothing more than shattered soul fragments.

I pointed and loosed the first spell that came to mind. "IGNIS MAGICAE!"

A ribbon of white hot flames shot from my outstretched finger, catching the Dweller in his right eye.  The eyeball exploded and the Dweller howled in rage and pain, dropping a sword as one hand went to his ruined eye.

"IGNIS MAGICAE!" I loosed a second spell, catching the Dweller's left kneecap and bringing him tumbling down in a crash of steel and a rattle of the planes themselves.  The castle gate behind him remained closed.

"I forbid your entry.  You shall have to kill me in order to pass." The Dweller sneered as he pushed himself to a seated position.

"Ignis. Magicae." My spell caught the Dweller in the crook of the arm supporting his weight.  Once again he fell, the landscape shuddered as if from a great earthquake.  Steel rang as his swords fell.

"Disgraceful." The Dweller's voice was laced with pain.  "Finish me then, mortal.  Go beyond and claim your blood stained prize."

I raised my hands toward the Dweller. The giant reeked of the sickly scent of burning flesh. There were perhaps a dozen different spells that came to mind.  The giant was powerful but badly injured and another spell would kill him.  I stood there, my hands aimed like weapons, and stopped.

'Why would I kill the Dweller? Is it even possible?  What is the point?" These thoughts raced through my mind as the Dweller stared at me with his one good eye, his face etched with pain and defiance.  I knew at that moment that I had the power to kill him.

I also realized that I had no reason to.

"No." I said.  "I won't kill you.  I didn't come here to fight.  I came here seeking knowledge."

I lowered my hands. "I won't kill you for a convenience. I don't know what all your hostility was about, but we'll see each other time and again as the years pass."

"You? You would show mercy?" The Dweller seemed genuinely surprised.  For a moment, I felt a profound sense of shame.

"You sound surprised." I replied.  "Yes. I grant you mercy. Until next we meet."  I turned, intending to find my way back to my mana flooded home, but encountered the castle gate.  It loomed large and open before me.

"For some, being merciful is a great challenge." The Dweller's pained voice whispered into my mind. "Until next we meet."

*****

I walked through the gate and into a swirling current of water. I kicked up toward the faint light of the surface.  The current was brutal, and kept pulling at me as I struggled to escape. Minutes passed as I fought my way to the surface. In the distance I saw a small island crafted of fitted stones, a single stone pillar rose from its surface. The water around me was clear and the sky above was a beautiful shade of sea-green.  Seven moons hung in the sky.  I turned my gaze from the dark moon, fearful that it might take notice of me. To my right and slightly behind me, a stone arch rose from the depths.  I saw five others that were intact while the seventh was a crumbled ruin. A light blazed atop the pillar.

I intoned my levitation spell, rose up from the water and floated over to the island. It looked just as I remembered it.  Each detail on the pillar was exquisitely carved.  I floated up and gazed at the searing power of the totem capping the top.  The stone arch I had arrived near shone with hellish firelight.  A dozen swirling whirlpools were scattered around it.  Above the blue moon a single point of light crept across the sky. The twin suns were on the horizon, bathing the sea-green sky with a warm red-gold glow.

I watched and saw the same beautiful place I had once taken refuge in.  It was nearing nighttime, the air carried the salty sent of the sea.  Only the whirlpools and the pinprick of light over the blue moon were different.

The suns set and darkness draped the sky.  By the light of six moons and my spell enhanced senses I basked in the beauty of the place.  For a time, I'm not certain how long, I forgot my purpose. When I finally regained my focus, I noticed a something moving beneath the churning waters of one of the whirlpools. I floated over and plunged down into the water to get a better look.

It was a man.

He was dressed in a white suit with a brilliant red tie.  A black pentagram tiepin held his tie in place.  His hair floated about his head and he bobbed about at the mercy of the currents.  He didn't respond to my presence so I swam out to him, fighting the currents as I went, until I was facing him from a distance of three meters.  His features were locked in an expression of dread realization.

He was dead. I swam over to the corpse, the current tugging at me all the while.  I grabbed his arm, and began to swim toward the surface.  It took most of an hour to pull the dead man from the sea and onto the island of stone.

There weren't any signs of injury so I assumed that he drowned, unable to free himself from the whirlpool.  How a corpse got to a metaplane was a profound question. His suit looked quite modern and the tiepin was imbued with an aura of enchantment.  I went through his pockets, looking for any clue as to who he may have been.  I found a credstick (Which is a REALLY weird thing to find in a metaplane!), a high-end pocket secretary (Equally weird!), and an ID card proclaiming membership in the Fraternal Order of the Garden State Thaumaturgic Union.

My corpse was from New Jersey.

I dropped his credstick and ID card into the pocket of my drenched bathrobe.  His pocket secretary still had power so I pressed the corpse's thumb to the screen and watched as it came to life.  'No Signal' was promptly displayed across the top of the display.  I accessed the calendar and found it indicating an appointment for the early afternoon,'Exorcism?' was noted in the event details as well as an address and contact name.  There were pictures of a woman and two young children in his photo gallery, as well as a text file from a sender indicated as 'Beth' that appeared to be a selection of school supplies.

"Damn, chummer." I said. "What happened to get you all the way out here?"

Thankfully, the corpse didn't answer.  {Hey. It's not paranoia, I've seen that happen before.~ T.}

I was pondering the possibilities when I saw the ghostly outline of a skyscraper take shape in the waters behind the stone arch beneath the blue moon. It was of a familiar, modern design and though it was translucent in the way of ghosts and spirit manifestations it suddenly displaced a vast amount seawater, throwing up a tremendous wave that washed over the island and cast me back into the sea.

The rising suns revealed an additional dozen whirlpools around the gate I had arrived near.  The blue moon above took on a thin sliver of gold that ringed it in the sky. I waited for the sea to calm its fury, then plunged down into waters near the whirlpool I had emerged from.  A spiral of trapped air churned and bubbled in the fierce current that tugged me downward.  I was twenty meters down when I saw a that the sea bed was formed of fitted hexagon-cut stones.  They stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions.  Beneath me, many of the stones were cracked and worn.  Bubbles rose from one broken stone, flowing up the current and into the whirlpool.  Faint light lined the crack that ran the width of the stone. There were a score of stones with similar damage scattered around the stone arch.  Strange shadows, phantasmal terrain, and ghostly figures appeared and vanished in the light erupting from the cracks.

I dove down to the fractured stone. It was six meters across, give or take a few centimeters.  Small bits of stone, broken from the large hexagon, littered the surface.  I picked up a few small bits of the debris and slipped them into the pocket of my bathrobe. The light shooting through the cracks reminded me of the blazing orb in my basement.  The light felt warm there in the depths.  The water held a chill and was rushing into the cracks as bubbles streamed up.

The bits of stone that littered the surface seemed to have come from the cracks.  I picked up one of the larger pieces, found a space along the cracks that it appeared to fit in, lined it up and lowered it into place.  The stone fit seamlessly, and the stream of bubbles became less pronounced. Another stone was fitted into the place, then another. With each bit of stone that was replaced the whirlpool's current weakened and the stream of bubbles lessened.  I fitted all of the pieces that I could see but the crack remained.  It was smaller and the current was far less intense than when I arrived.

I peered down into the crack and saw nothing more than a brilliant light. I found myself falling into that light and was soon engulfed by it. When I opened my eyes I found myself covered in ectoplasmic goop.  It completely covered me and was disintegrating rapidly.  I stood up and found that I was chest deep in the muck.  My bathrobe was drenched and I was very cold.  The elemental spirits had vanished, their service done.

My astral senses showed that the ball of light was still brighter than it had been, but the stream of ectoplasm had stopped.  I touched the engraved circle with my bare toe and exerted my will to deactivate the circle.  Ectoplasm rushed out, knocking over my chair and the candles that had burned down to nubs.

I shivered violently and padded upstairs to see if Aria and the girls had left yet.  I was halfway up the stairs when something buzzed in the pocket of my bathrobe.  I reached in and pulled out the pocket secretary I had found on the corpse.  The display indicated an incoming call from "Beth" and the network connection was busy pulling down several messages.  The small device buzzed incessantly at me until I opened its battery compartment and pulled out the power cell.

My own pocket secretary was upstairs, still sitting on the nightstand next to the bed.  Of Aria and the girls there was no sign.  I thumbed the accursed device and found a dozen messages from Aria asking me to call her when I 'got back'.  The date display was January 10th, and it was almost 1900 hours.  I had been gone for almost two days.

*****

The sudden surprise in the night and the immediate need to evacuate the family struck me.  I spent the 11th and the 12th setting up a new safe house and fitting it with things we, as a family, would need if we ever had to go to ground.  I brought Lilly and Rose there individually, so as not to leave Aria without help.

My ally spirits are my children in every way that matters to me. I also depend on them to protect the family when I am away. We have certain contingency plans in place, what to do if there is a medical emergency with the twins, what to do if Aria gets hurt, what to do if/when I die, and other more mundane plans.  After this incident we had a family meeting.

"Girls, I want to talk to you about the future and another set of standing instructions.  Things to do if particular things happen." I told them.  Lily and Rose looked at me intently while Aria sat close by side, her hand gripping mine.  The twins were playing with a pair of stuffed toys on the rug before us.

"You know we have code words.  Those that we've set up like 'Flashlight', 'Medic', 'Diaper change' and so on.  Today, I want to talk to you about a new code word.  This one is 'Rapture'..."

We discussed the plan in detail.  Neither Rose nor Lily liked it at all, and Aria renewed her insistence that I summon another ally spirit.  The twins played through the entire discussion, giggling and fumbling around until they became suddenly quite silent as Aria made me promise to summon another ally.

"You can't expect the girls to do that without you having another on hand to help you." she said.  "Promise me, Tommy. You'll bring another to help.  Promise me."

I sighed.  Summoning another ally spirit was a good idea if ever we needed to evacuate.  The time and energy it would require would be immense, but I was confident that I had recovered enough power from my summoning of Lily that I could bring forth another without breaking my own magic in the process.  "Okay, honey.  I'll do it as soon as I can."

I was going to say something else.  Provide a rough estimate of when I could conduct such a summoning, but the reason for the twins' sudden silence hit me as the foul stench wafted up from the rug where they sat, blushing.

"Oh, my God!" Aria proclaimed.  "Girls, did you poop?"

"I hope so," I injected. "If not, I can't imagine what it will be like when they do."  I stood up and spun a little magic in the air, lifting the tiny, stinking children into the air. "Rose, Lily, 'diaper change' is in effect."  We walked the girls to the changing tables and did battle the with the stench of filthy diapers. It was terrible. The twins giggled the entire time.

*****
In my basement laboratory, small bits of fractured stone sat in a containment circle I had scribed onto a work table.  They emitted a faint luminescence in the dark and glowed with mana energy to my astral sight.  The fragments had come through in my pocket, just as had the pocket secretary and credstick I took off the corpse.  The tiepin focus I stored within a separate containment circle, just in case.

In the days following this incident, there were sporadic news reports of strange astral happenings at various sites around the world.  I did some matrix searching, the public/legit user kind, and found mention of a missing person from the Far Hills area.  The picture matched my corpse.

I began to formulate the design for a third ally spirit, devoting a few hours each night after I came home from work.  I had a plan and I needed to be prepared to implement it if the need arose. Years as a Shadowrunner had taught me to be ready to bolt when you need to.  It only took a couple of years of family life for me to get comfortably settled. It's easy to lose your edge when you're comfortable.

'Rapture', I hoped I never had to use it, but I had to be ready.

*Continued in Part three*

---------------------------------


Thank you for reading my fan fiction!

I hope you are enjoying The Art of War story arc.

I do also release RPG material under the SRD 5.1 OGL (as published by WoTC).  Presently my newest book, Whispers of Persephone, if on KickStarter.  If you would, please do check that out and share the link with others.  I'm placing a link below.  I am also a creator on KickStarter's Drip platform, which is similar to Patreon in some respects.  You can find my Drip page HERE, so please do give that a look too.

Thank you.  I hope you'll check out Part Three.