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Jak Koke: Stranger souls

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Jak Koke Stranger souls

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Ryan quickly scanned the inside of the vehicle while the door was open, rapidly cataloguing his adversaries. There were only two people in the back, both human. One was a standard-looking corporate security guard; the other was slumped in his seat, most likely the mage who was astral projecting. His spirit was out of his body, cruising around astral space in a search for Ryan, but it could return to his body at any moment.

Ryan kept mental track; two in front, one heavily armed; two in back. Null sheen, he thought. If it doesn't get ugly, I can take them without bloodshed. Ryan wouldn't shy away from killing them if it was necessary to complete Dunkelzahn's instructions, and he was very adept at the taking of life. But more often than not, killing wasn't necessary to accomplish his goals.

Then Ryan's gaze was drawn to the… thing that had disembarked.

He looked human for the most part, but there was an aura of inhumanity around him that Ryan felt like a cold radiance. In the physical world, the man was very big, at least a half-meter taller than Ryan, with a density to him that spoke of cybernetic limbs and torso. Pure chrome under that vat-grown skin.

Ryan never missed a detail like that, even through the dark, loose-fitting combat fatigues the man wore. His bald head was eerily symmetrical and too small for his massive shoulders and chest. And his legs were oddly proportioned- too long in the shin for his height.

This chummer's mostly machine. A cyberzombie.

Ryan had heard of such creatures, but this was the first he had encountered in flesh-and-chrome reality. Most of their spirit was gone, and they were supremely dangerous. Robots with a tenuous grip on the distinction between dead and alive.

In one hand, the man held a netgun poised and ready. The other was empty for the present, but a veritable arsenal hung from his belts and harnesses. In the astral, the man was a fireworks display, aglow with magic and quickened spells. His aura was a dark shadow amid the flares, and it made Ryan's skin crawl to look at it. His aura was somehow separated from his body. Out of phase, if that was possible.

Ryan had never seen anything like it. He noticed a slight hazing in the astral wherever the cyberzombie passed. This creature was polluting astral space by its mere existence. Rumor told that powerful spells, quickened so that they had become permanent, acted like a tether to the spirit of someone who had taken so much machinery into his flesh. Un-fragging-natural.

Then he noticed the watcher spirit, a small bloodshot eye,

hovering around the cyberzombie's aura. The watcher saw Ryan, looked right at him, but it didn't move. It was tasked for something else. Probably to warn some mage or shaman if any big astral nasties decided to take an interest in robo-slag here.

Ryan brought his vision back to the physical and took a few controlled breaths to center himself. So they plan on capturing me, he thought, his gaze coming back to the netgun. Interesting, that makes escape all that much easier. All I have to do is get past robo-slag before the helo lifts off. The slots inside will go down easy.

The cyberzombie scanned the area with intense scrutiny, and Ryan suddenly feared that his concealment magic would fail to hide his heat signature enough from this creature's infrared sight. But the gaze passed over him without hesitation, and the man turned to survey the whole clearing.

Ryan remained absolutely silent and still, waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his move. He watched as the cyberzombie drew a taser gun from one of his belts and moved to the edge of the concrete slab. The robo-slag's movements were superfluid and quick, decisive and precise.

He might be even faster than me, Ryan thought, which was frightening because he had never met anyone, except Dunkelzahn, who could match his speed in combat. Best to avoid a fight with this one. Can't be certain of the outcome.

At the same moment, the wind beneath the helo's rotors grew to a deafening roar, and the vehicle began to lift off. As the craft rose slightly, Ryan made a lightning-quick dash to the still-open side door. One of them inside reached to close the door just as Ryan fired a narcotic-coated dart into his chest. Silent, fast, and oh-so-powerful. The dart buried itself to the shaft, hitting with a subliminal thunk that was lost in the roar of the rotors.

The man froze in two heartbeats, and crumbled to the floor, nearly falling out the open door before Ryan caught his body. Then Ryan was inside, laying the incapacitated guard on the floor as he glided over the body, moving as fast as his magically accelerated muscles would carry him. He jabbed a second dart into the prone body of the mage-a

human in tan Aztechnology armor with a Jaguar Guard shoulder patch.

Best that he not wake up and frag me with a spell.

Ryan drew his pistol, and, in a smooth practiced motion, placed the barrel to the side of the copilot's head. ";Cdl-letel" Ryan whispered. "No sound, pendejo. Or your brains will paint the foreshield."

The copilot was an ork with obviously jacked-up or wired reflexes, but he didn't try anything with the cold metal of Ryan's gun against his warty skin. The ork slowly raised his hands, allowing Ryan to grab his Ares Alpha Combatgun.

Ryan didn't have time to keep track of the copilot so he jabbed him in the neck with a dart. It took a few seconds longer for the big body to sink into the molded seat, but soon the ork was safely out.

It had all happened so fast that the rigger pilot, jacked into the helo's external sensors, never even noticed. But she will soon, Ryan thought. When she checks the internal cameras. Ryan took position behind the rigger's seat and brought his pistol to bear on her temple. He hoped she feared death because he needed her to fly the helo, and so it was necessary not to kill. He always preferred to incapacitate his opponents unless it was necessary for them to die, but now he couldn't even afford to drug the pilot. Though he might have been able to figure out the controls, he'd never flown one of these before, and he didn't relish the idea of learning under these circumstances.

The helo was about three meters up, just starting its forward bank that would take it around the teocalli, when the floor tilted abruptly. The helicopter canted right, then straightened. This rigger obviously needs a lesson in pain, Ryan thought. He knew just the nerve cluster to hit.

But it wasn't the rigger at all. Out the corner of his eye, Ryan caught the immense shape of the cyberzombie pulling himself into the open door of the 'copter. He had jumped straight up from the ground, and it had been his weight landing suddenly on the helo's frame that had caused the floor to tilt.

What the-?

Ryan spun to meet him, squeezing off two rounds that

should have hit him in the head. But the cyberzombie was fast and had already dodged slightly. One of the bullets caught his shoulder, ricocheting off with a metallic ping. The other missed.

The netgun fired just as Ryan dove into the front, the net's polycarbonate weave expanding as the explosive force threw it toward Ryan. But the interior was too small and there wasn't enough room for the net to open. It hit the plastic-lined metal wall just over the prone body of the Jaguar Guard mage. The hard plastic buckled with a loud crack under the force. But it missed Ryan.

Ryan pulled a mini flash grenade from his webbing and tossed it toward robo-slag. The cyborg watched it arc toward him as if in slow motion, seeming to be fascinated by the intricate rotating designs on the mini grenade. The absurd moment stretched forever, like watching a meteor rotate in zero G, and it was then that Ryan noticed the name etched in the man's flesh-toned forearm. Modular, exact letters spelled "BURNOUT" in dull gray.

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