Bay 12 Games Forum

486. Might be a long game.

((Always was. Just didn't say it til now. ))

Ohfoor went into the backroom where the elevator motor was still giving it's all. He grabbed the wrench off the table and pocketed it in his white jumpsuit. His now articulate fingers wrapped around his second arm, carrying around the shelves to the far corner where the iron ladder to the roof was. Looking up, then at the arm, then his pockets he thought about it for a moment before unzipping his jumpsuit enough to slide the arm in the empty sleeve, holding it in place while struggled with the minor climb. He leaned his metal body into the ladder in an attempt to not slip each time he moved his one working arm up wrung after wrung for the short distance leading to the roof. Ohfoor arrived on the final set of wrungs, pushing open the hatch and forcing the sunlight through the musty air of the storeroom. A new sound echoed behind him mixed in with the sounds of the elevator, growing closer and closer. It sounded like someone pacing back and forth, likely in... dress shoes? A sudden feeling of dread filled him as he rushed to pull himself up through the hatch before he was found out. He closed the hatch behind him, staying close to listen whether he should be worried about being found or not. Beyond the hatch, Ohfoor heard the elevator grind to a halt and the heavy click of heels step out. A few moments of eavesdropping later a voice quietly spoke, "Parts of the subject found in the storeroom connecting to disposal site 3. It has likely found assistance. The parts were intentionally not precise enough to manipulate tools well. Send a vehicle to collect the Starway Security members to ID the help. Use force if necessary. Corporate concerns. I'm sure they'll understand the losses if it comes to it."

It sounded like the mystery man moved into the next room, forcing a sigh of relief as he unzipped the jumpsuit to get his arm and start connecting it. It didn't take long to wrench the part in place. Took him a few tries to get the wire properly lined up to power the newly connected arm, but he managed it in the end. He walked over the unmaintained cracked surface of the roof to scope out the area. A large black van with blacked out windows rolled up to the front of the building as two larger built men in black and white suits waited on the street with electrified stun batons, as the two Starway members walked out into the streets with their arms held above their heads, blood running from their heavily beaten and broken faces. They were definitely in much worse shape than when he tazed them. There were two collapsible ladders on the roof, one on the side leading down the street adjacent leading to what looked like a crowded neon-lit shopping district. The other led down the back of the building, leading to several bonfires burning in corroded oil drums where people where huddled, some standing, some laying down against the walls. A small building stood past the bonfires in back, nestled in between two other buildings in an alleyway and lit with blue flame lamp posts and purple neon in what looked like an incomprehensible language.

"So ET, care to spar once the ship gets going?" Kimby stretched her arms out, giving an ever so quiet pop as her arm joints spaced. "Might not seem important for a sniper to be able to fight hand to hand, but if we're boarded, I'd rather not have someone get a jump on me. Besides, it's been a while since I've got to spar." She sat down on the bed, double checking her space for something she might have missed while unpacking.

Ohfoor nodded, "Yeah. Sounds good to me." He absent-mindedly looked over the phone number on the paper, contemplating whether he'd actually need a place to stay or not.

Rick went over a room, opening up a display case up front, coming back with a decently worn pair of mechanical arms. It was exactly as advertised, 3 slender fingers and a thumb and the same kind of spindly arms he already had. Likely wouldn't carry much weight, but then again the ones he had now wouldn't be much better for that kind of thing. "We don't normally switch out parts, but luckily it's old enough to not need specialized tools. Just a wrench should be fine." He nudged his head over towards the desk in the corner, "Come on. I need a flat surface to place your arms onto." He tapped his hands on the swivel chair. "Sit down. I'll make it quick." He tossed something towards Jon, "Hey Jon, take 1,800c off this when you have a sec." Jon silently nodded as he walked out with a cred stick. Ohfoor checked his pockets as he sat down, sure enough, there was no cred stick. When did he? What kind of work did he do before this? Rick piped up as he saw him check his pockets, "Don't sweat the details. This'll be quick." He unzipped a little of the jumpsuit, just to get the arms free of it.

The man with the pointed ears started unscrewing the connector of Ohfoor's left arm. It was strange sensation, almost a dull distant pain as the wrench spun to remove the nuts holding it in place. Then he carefully removed the power cord and his entire arm with it, leaving a weird empty feeling as he cautiously tried moving it only to feel the nothingness that used to be his limb. The metahuman slowly moved the new part into place, connected the wires and started applying the nuts to hold the new part. Ohfoor flexed his fingers, holding out his arm in front of him. His hand felt a little out of place and clumsy, like an arm that fell asleep. He then started on the second, removing the part with the same dull pain. As he place the second arm on the table a sound resonated at the back of the storeroom. The elevator roared into motion rattling dust from the light fixture. "That can't be good. How long do we have?"

Rick adjusted his worn red baseball cap, "Three minutes for it to go down and back up." He slammed the wrench down on the table. "Shit-" He paused, cursing and slamming his fist onto the wooden desk, "I don't have enough time to do this. You need to get lost right now." Rick pointed to the front room, "Take your arm and a wrench. You'll have to do it yourself. They can't know you went this way or we're all kinda screwed, ya got me?" He called out to Jon, "Yo Jon! Got that cred stick ready? We're kinda fucked for time!"

A deep voice called up from the front, "Jon's a little busy. This is Starway Security. Come to the front with your hands up. You're being charged with illegitimate retail licensing and we're here to bring you in." Leaning forward Ohfoor could see a bald muscular man in a solid navy blue uniform. He was holding a pistol to Jon's head with a foot firmly pressed into Jon's back to hold him against the ground, or at least know if he tried something.

A second male voice called out from just out of sight, "Come on, let's make this simple. You know we're the law around here." The voice let out a hesitating laugh as he lowered his voice to talk to his partner, "Man, I love these charges. Nice and simple." He raised his voice back up, "Hands up, or we'll have to consider it resisting arrest!"

Rick sat down on the desk, drawing a pistol from behind his back, checking the magazine, and cocking the slide. He whispered under his breath, "We're fucked. Elevator or out there, doesn't matter now." He nodded his head to the opposite corner of the room, "There is a hatch with a ladder to the roof on the other side of the room, just past the last shelf. I'll take care of things." He stood up off the desk whispering under his breath, "Sorry Jon." He waited with his pistol at the ready for Ohfoor to take the wrench and arm.

Ohfoor cleared his speakers as he thought of what to say. "Well, I was being held captive, handcuffs and all, and I just used your elevator to escape." He put down the piece of metal he lifted off the shelf. "I'm not against buying something, but I have no idea what I can take." Not holding his tongue he added, "I don't even think I've seen people like yourselves before."

The lanky man uttered under his breath but it was quiet enough to hear him clearly, "Fuckin' corps and their bullshit science projects." He relaxed, freeing his hand from what was likely a pistol behind his back. "First of all, we're metahumans. We started popping out of the woodwork fifty, sixty years ago? There are a shit tonne of supremacist pricks out there that would sooner shank us than see us on the rich side of town." He took a step towards Ohfoor, but turned to Jon, "Jon, I don't want to screw up the deal we got going with the disposal guys downstairs. Make some calls to get him out of here before we're all screwed. I have a hunch."

Jon's puzzled look twisted to confused frustration, "What're you playing at Rick? I thought you said we'd lay low and start up a shop? This'll destroy the business if they so much as think we did this." He swung his mechanized fist, but caught himself short, likely trying not to break anything.

Rick retorted back quickly, "I have a hunch. Just do it." Jon left, not willing to argue with his business partner anymore. He turned back to Ohfoor as Jon ducked out of the door with a heavy shrug, "By the way, I'm Rick, and if you want parts, I'll need you to lose the jumpsuit, but we need to make this quick before they think to check up here for you. Other than that you can wait for Jon to set something up, or leave now. Your call."

Ohfoor shook his head, "This is a little awkward."

Rick nodded adjusting his cap, "You're telling me."

Ohfoor started checking the shelves a little more thoroughly for something useful, moving from row to row. A sense of unnatural deja vu filled him as he looked over the metal shelves. All he was finding was more and more metal parts that meant nothing to him. Towards the last shelf was a desk nestled in the corner, and in one of the drawers was a thin blue credit stick and a small black flashlight. A quick check of the small numeric display on the credit stick showed 2,000c. Not much, but something. He wedged the stick in between a gap in his torso casing where it sat quite nicely. He double checked the desk, not finding anything else of note. A few random papers with random numbers and figures, but nothing of use or relevance.

He returned to the elevator, taking his time to focus closely on the camera just inside the scratched up elevator. It sizzled and sparked, finally creating a loud popping sound before it's red light went out. With no more reason to be worried about being seen inside the elevator he stepped in, hitting the only button lit up, upwards. The elevator shook as it revved into motion as the cables visible on the sides pulled tight. The support struts flicked by one after the other for a few minutes until he arrived at the top.

As he stepped off the elevator, he was greeted by a thick layer of dust shaking itself free from the shoddy looking chandelier in what appeared to be another storage room lined with cheap brown tile flooring. A plethora of random metal parts with price tags lined the shelves. There was a lanky brown-haired man with a beaten baseball cap tapping at a keyboard. He called over his shoulder, "Hey Jon, I thought we were good for parts. Let's not mess up our agreement. And when did you go for parts anyways?" The man turned his head to the side, waiting for a reply, showing his pointed ears.