Kien S aka Shotgun S (Real Name: Samuel Stuart) Human (Salish/caucasian) Black hair, dark brown eyes. Bod: 6 Str: 4 Qui: 6 Int: 4 Chr: 3 Wil: 4 Reaction: 5 Init: 5 + 1D6 Essence: 6 Combat pool: 7 Karma pool: 1 Karma: 8 Active Skills: Pistols 4 Pistols Specialization: Ruger Thunderbolt (5) Shotguns 4 Shotgun Specialization: Defiant T-250 (5) Clubs 4 Interrogation (Verbal) 3(5) Etiquette (Street) 2 Athletics 2 Bike 2 Car 2 Stealth 3 Knowledge Skills Police Procedures 4 Local Gangs 4 Lone Star (politics, organization) 4 Lone Star Field Tactics 4 Gang Identification 4 Pallyup Barrens 4 English 4 Read/Write 2 Edges/Flaws: Hunted 4 Equipment: -Defiant T-250 (Lone Star) with Shock pads; Conceal 3, Ammo 5, SA, 10S, 3 lbs -Laser sight (top mount -- -1 target numbers, not useable beyond 50 M) -Tactical Flashlight (Partial Light to 20 M, glare penalty to observers) -23 Regular Shotgun Ammo (slugs) -Shock Baton (holstered at back) -Urban Camo Armor Jacket (fixed his with a plate from his partner's jacket) B/I 5/3 -Clothing (including dark gray ski mask which he carries, and a well-secured fanny pack he keeps his other equipment in, and a long dark synth-linen duster) -Handset cell phone (concealability 6, always off unless stated otherwise, fanny pack) -Restraints, Steel (fanny pack) -Squatter Lifestyle x 1 month (out of starting cash - Remains until Oct. 14, 2063) -Personal Credstick with SIN information (Does not use it) -100 Personal Lone Star Business Cards for Samuel Stuart(bound with a rubber band, bagged in a ziplock, and stuffed in the bottom of his fanny pack, under the ammo, sights, and personal credstick) 803 nuyen in certified bonded credsticks (103 nuyen on person, 400 nuyen in zipped coat pocket, 300 nuyen in fanny pack) He grew up on the border of Redmond, but he always wanted to be one of the good guys, working for Lone Star to make a difference...like he saw on the holo-vids. So he was thrilled when he got into Lone Star, and was able to get out of his promising career in a McHugh's, which he had been working for the couple of years since finishing Online High. He finished the six months at Lone Star Academy, and, after a few months of boring beat cop duty, his application for the pilot practical investigator training was accepted. By the end of another 6 months, he had finished his training. He was pretty green, but he knew how to browbeat a SINless perp to find out what he needed to know, just like they taught him. His first case was in Homicide. There was some sicko killing young girls in the Barrens. SINless girls, but young girls anyways. Probably Gangers. Time to round up some SINless perps and lean on them until they give us what we need to know. He first met her when she was brought in for questioning. She was the fifth one that day. He was the "Bad cop" that time, but the routine didn't phase her at all...she just spat at them. They didn't learn anything from her that day, but after he led her out back and let her go, the SINless girl looked at him slightly surprised. "Go on, get out of here. I got nothing more to give you." She spat at him one last time and took off. Two days later, he was investigating in the Barrens, trying to keep a low profile when he ran into her again. "So, what brings you here cop?" "You got me. You gonna call your ganger buddies?" "I'm NOT a ganger!" "Nothing else lives in Pallyup but gangers." "Well, not MY family! LISTEN UP Twinkle! My Dad was KILLED by gangers, just because he didn't want to give up the days receipts. He NEEDED the money for my mom and me, and they KILLED him. I hate them!" The cold steel in her voice gave pause even to his jaded attitude. "I live in Pallyup. But I'm not a ganger, and I'm NOT a bag-girl. I work at the stuffer shack on the border of Pallyup, and I dress like this so no one will suspect otherwise. And no one seems to care...cause I got me and my mom hidden away good. Listen Cop. You did me a good turn at the station. I'm gonna help you and tell you you gotta leave now. It's getting dark." "Did you a good turn? I just shook you down a bit...or tried to anyways. I guess you know a bit too much about all that already." "Most cops wouldn't just let a girl go. When they take 'em out back, they act just like Gangers. No, you did me a good turn. And as stupid as you might be, I owe you one too. Meet me at the Lane and Smith Stuffer Shack at 7 PM, and I'll tell you what I know." That night: "The murderer, well, there's a group of them. Most of them are gangers, but the leader isn't. At least that's what I hear. The leader, he dresses like a ganger, but you can tell he's not...no scars. But still, the others go around with him, and hold the girls down while he cuts them up. They say he usually grabs girls who are alone, or two or three at a time. But I can't tell you why the gangs don't seem to ever find this guy. He's probably got a deal." Silence. "That all you know?" Pause "You got a real polite attitude, Twinkle, anyone ever tellya that? Yeah, that's all I heard. That and I heard he prowls about once every two days. And they say he operates around Bronson and Third. Now I gotta go." She looked around and her voice softened. "I gotta go take care of my Mom." She walked away, toward the heart of Pallyup. A moment. "Thanks", he called after her. She stopped, half turned and waved. And kept walking into the streets. Next day, he and his partner had a plan. It wasn't the smartest plan...no, it definitely wasn't too smart. But that was the best lead they had. The two of them hid in Pallyup, near Bronson and Third, him with some crates, and his partner next to some dumpsters, their camo jackets and dark grey ski masks helping them blend into the city some. This was a dumb plan...no way it should have worked. But they heard a scream. They found him with two of his buddies in the basement of an abandoned brownstone. They were watching him cut the body of a half-naked girl. The scene he saw through the basement window made him briefly nauseous...he had seen some blood as an investigator, but the eviscerated body of a middle-aged woman in the corner was a new sight to him. It looked like he had already cut the throat of the young girl and was starting on the rest of her body. His partner hadn't seen all of this...he was at the corner of the building, where he signaled the presence of the lookout at the door. Apparently the Punk was either on BTL's or too busy watching the festivities inside...he didn't notice his partner drawing a bead on him with their Defiance T-250's. His partner's gun ensured that the Punk wouldn't notice too much more after that, and a loud *CHIK* meant the gun was ready for more. Loud shouts from inside. "Get THEM!" Out of the door came another ganger, and he ended up the same way, with another *chik* and the end of the thunderclap. The last ganger stuck his arm around the doorjam and fired, but his partner was already taking cover. Too bad the ganger didn't notice him standing at the small window drawing a bead on the ganger's back. *BOOM-CHIK*. By the time he ran inside, his partner had already gone in, had taken off his mask because of the heat and sweat, and was holding the sicko at gunpoint. She was right...he didn't have enough scars to be a ganger, as much as he tried to dress like one. He had seen enough gangers in his young life to tell. But he was...laughing. He dropped the knife..."Arrest me, officers. I'm sure you'll be properly rewarded for such good work. You are Lone Star. I recognize the cut of the camo jackets." Shock. He recognized the sicko. The sicko was the son of the Lone Star VP of Homicide. Their boss. "You know that this all meant nothing. You'll take me home...and this will just be our dirty little secret. You think you're the first ones to track me down?" And he knew he was telling the truth. He knew his boss, and, if he was honest with himself, he knew Lone Star. This would be too embarrassing to let out. They would cover this up, erase the records, give him and his partner promotions to shut them up. Or...failing that...silence them more permanently. It all made sense now. Sicko looked down at the body. "Shame. She fought hard...made it that much more delicious. Hiding here with her mom. She screamed so when I cut her mother." Sicko looked at them expectantly. "You wouldn't want to let me finish, would you?" NINA! Her eyes glassy in death, her throat spilling crimson, it was still all too easy to tell who she was. The fear and horror in her eyes permanently etched. The woman in the corner must be her mother...even though her head was missing and her entrails spilled on the floor. He looked back at Sicko. "Come now, you can't expect me to believe that a big Homicide Lone Star Officer is shy of a little blood? Or that these SINless trash mean anything. After all, their own gangers sell them to me. Why do you think I roam free in Pallyup? We have an understanding, my father and I and the gang boss. Daddy gets what he wants from Bossman, as well as some cash, and Bossman rules Pallyup. And I make the connections. I'm the only one that can go back and forth without suspicion. Daddy likes his money, he likes the occasional big-name SINless trash brought in to keep PR good, and Bossman eats and spits out whoever he wants. And I get playthings." "Don't worry." Sicko put his hands down. "You have a chip in the big game now. You're only 24..." HOW DID HE KNOW MY AGE??!!!? "and you're gonna be a sergeant. You'll make lieutenant inside of 3 years. Both of you. That's how it always happens." "Barry, how is it from the other side, this time?" I turned to see my partner had his gun on me. "Just the same as last time, sir. Just more trash, sir." I looked back at Nina, at her mother. They were just SINless after all. Just trash. Not real people...who care, and love, and hurt. And certainly not worth my life. Sicko looked shocked as my Defiant whipped up, and then Sicko didn't look at all as the blast tore open the upper half of his head. I whirled to train my Defiant on my partner, dropping to the floor, but the roar told me I was too late. It was like I was kicked in the chest as I fell toward the floor, but as I hit the ground I brought my gun to bear and pulled the trigger one last time. My partner fell on his rear in the corner, his head falling beside him as he spewed blood from the hole where his neck was. I lay back -- breathing was agony. I felt my side...no blood, no crater. A very smashed steel plate in my jacket that took the glancing shot. And a broken rib. I couldn't go back. He went back quickly the next day, early and made a quick withdrawal on bonded credsticks, leaving his equipment and armor in a locker in a coffin hotel on the edge of Pallyup (or in Pallyup if there is one), then washed up and slept fitfully during the day (paid for hotel off of strict cash from bonded credsticks). That evening, he will head into Pallyup to hide and perhaps extract vengeance from the gangers there...for Nina. Note: Interesting story? I just sort of let it write. I purposefully was very vague with pronouns, letting it sorta gel together and become clearer...don't know, maybe was a sort of writing exercise...trying something new. NEwayz, I didn't pick any edges/flaws. Thought maybe after reading the story, you could help me with that. Hunted? Enemy? =) Ork Druggie (Zen) B6 S5 Q3 I3 W2 C2 Rxn 3+d6, CP 4, Knife 1 Wounds S, Init 9 vs. 11 Knife
