>From: wolfone@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu
Subject: Settling of Accounts (ok YOU think up something better!)
Date: 31 Aug 91 21:23:41 GMT

Note to readers:
I originally submited this in May, but was not able to continue it as I was out
of town until now. If you remembered that story you might notice a few changes
in it that I made to correct errors and remove a few weak points (I hope).
Anyway, here it is:<erratic drumroll>


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

Chiba City, Japan, Terra; 31 March 2404

Light mist hung close to the ground as the two figures strolled through the
confused clutter that were the streets of Chiba City. They elicited no reaction
from others around them save for a cursory inspection as they passed by--to see
if they were a threat. One look at the shorter figure's expression convinced
the more lethal predators on the street that this pair was not worth it.

The taller of the pair was barrel-chested, with a large scar slashing downward
over one eye. That eye, the left one, reflected the neon holography from signs
marking bars, pleasure houses and other places of gray business with a mirrored
sheen. He was clad in surplus BDU's left over from some forgotten brushfire war
A synthleather flightjacket and combat boots completed his outfit along with
any number of weapons that were not immediately visible. He scanned the area,
his 250 centimeter muscular frame ready for anything as he followed his partner.

The shorter individual was only half a head shorter than his partner, and was
thinner than his hulking companion; but various street people found him more
intimidating. His face was unmarred, and also was calm and placid in expression.
His eyes looked like they could bore into marble, yet there was a haunted look
in each emerald iris. He was clad in a large black trenchcoat which covered
some sort of black BDU's down to the knees. He also wore combat boots. The glow
from the signs gave his hair a strange color, making it impossible to tell its
natural tone. He walked confidently, eyes straight ahead, towards his
destination. The place was a bar whose sign read: "Chatsubo". In English. In
the middle of Japan. Odd, he thought.

A small group of yakuza wannabes tried to block their way, but were cowed by
a molten stare from the shorter man. They parted like the Red Sea and let the
two enter the bar unmolested. The shorter man's eyes narrowed slightly as he
entered the smoky room and moved towards the bar. The bartender was there,
wiping the counter with a cloth. His mechanical arm's whirring and clicking
were barely audible as the pair approached the bar. The bartender looked up at
the pair as they stopped in front of him, his expression curious.

"We're looking for Mr. Redwing and his companions." the shorter man said to the
bartender. His voice evenly carried over the buzz of the crowd and music.

The bartender looked him over."Would you like something to drink?" he asked
an expectant look on his face.

The shorter man plunked down five hundred nuyen."Mr. Redwing and party, please,"
he repeated patiently. His eyes blinked a few times from the smoke.

The bartender pointed. "Over there. Tell 'em Ratz sent you."

"Thank you. We'll get our drinks later." The shorter man bowed his head slightly
and then walked over to a table next to the far wall. His partner followed.

Redwing watched the two approach and hid a grin. These guys were way out of
their territory. He could spot them on the street in a millisecond. Must be
another corp headhunting job. Redwing took a sip of his brandy and nudged his
knee into Tess' thigh. She saw his look and nodded her agreement on his non-
verbal opinion of their two patrons. The two men clad in surplus military
uniforms and street clothing approached and sat at the table in front of
Redwing, Tess, and Slader, the other member of the team present. The shorter
man stared into Redwing's face and spoke.

"The Monk contacted you about me," He stated. Redwing merely nodded."Good,"
the shorter man said."You were highly recommended by him for the job I have for
you and your associates. My name is Hawke. My friend here is Stahl." He folded
his hands on the table and gazed at the trio, taking them all in."The job I
wish to hire you for is dangerous, but high paying. The details are classified
until after you sign on. There is a slight chance of repercussions from this
so an identity change might be needed for you after the job is finished."
He looked directly at Redwing. "Are you interested?"

Redwing was amused slightly. This guy is too honest about the job."What's the
job pay, chummer?" Lets see him lay the cards down on the table."Money talks
ya know."

Hawke, the shorter man, steepled his fingers."100,000 nuyen. Each. Cash or
credit. Your preference. If credit it'll be in a numbered L2 bank account, of
course."

Slader nearly choked on his drink. Tess's eyes widened slightly. Redwing looked
slightly irked at his teammates' reactions but was stunned himself. This guy
wants something done! he thought. 100,000 was five times his teams's biggest
take. Still, he decided to haggle."Not enough. 200,000." Hawke's eyes probed
into Redwing, asking an unspoken question. Tess spoke up.

"Look chummer, you said this job's gonna force us to get a face-change. That's
a fraggin' expensive operation. It costs a lotta nuyen to find a good place
that won't geek you to your enemies."

Hawke looked thoughtful for a moment. "One hundred ten k nuyen." He shrugged.
"I have expenses."

Tess gave him an ominous stare."One-ninety K" said Redwing. Slader was yawning.

Hawke returned Tess's withering stare."One-twenty." He looked down at his wrist
computer.

Redwing sat back."One-eighty-five."

Hawke raised an eyebrow."The cost of an untraceable identity change is
approximately 50,000 nuyen. I'll go up to one-fifty and throw in a 10,000 nuyen
extra for your troubles." He looked at them all."That is my final offer."

Redwing looked at Slader and Tess. They both nodded."Deal."

Hawke reached slowly into his coat and pulled out three bearer credcards and
a small letter envelope."Here's the 10,000 each for your trouble. The envelope
shows the meeting place. Do not be late." Hawke held out his hand. Redwing
awkwardly shook Hawke's hand."I seal this bargain." Hawke said in a low voice
that only the three street ronin could hear."Do not break it, please." Hawke
stood up abruptly and walked towards the door, followed by Stahl, who scanned
the area behind him.

Redwing blinked.Then chuckled derisively."Can you believe those guys? They don't
know jack shit about hiring street muscle." He rolled his eyes to heaven."I
don't believe we got 160k nuyen for our job."

Slader grunted."Those guys were virgins, man. The big guy had some chrome, but
that short dude was practically naked. Just off the factory line, no options."
His cybereyes glowed slightly and he removed a small scanner from under the
table."Bet they didn't know about this. I'll let Icer scan the recording and
maybe we'll figure out where this 'Hawke' and 'Stahl' come from."

Tess frowned for a moment."I think we're not givin' them enough credit, Red.
That Hawke dude may've been clueless about the streets, but he didn't look it."

Redwing frowned and glanced at the holovision next to the bar. He pulled out
a portable flatvid and set the channel to the bar's set. The screen showed a
battle in space being fought. He switched on the remote in his audios and
listened to the voice.

   ".....battle between the Allied forces and the Krohn armada dubbed
   Task Force Alpha ended in a stalemate with neither side having a
   clear advantage in the immediate vicinity of Talinn V."the view
   switched to a ground battle with NorthAm Marine Corps hovertanks
   dodging and weaving with the stranger-looking Krohn hovertanks
   "Ground forces on Talinn V held against a major thrust-"

Redwing changed to another newschannel and was rewarded with a view of
a wedge-shaped vessel moving into orbit around Earth with the lights
of another vessel blinking in the distance.

   "....Allied Command announced today that forces from the Oberon
   Empire and the Astran Republic arrived in Earth orbit today
   to begin assimilation into the Alliance forces. They will
   enter a brief training period to familiarize themselves
   with Krohn strategy and tactics and will then be broken
   into squadrons and assigned to one of the Allied Fleets.
   Despite recently ending a three year long war between
   themselves recently, the two nations agreed to unite with
   humanity and fight against the common foe: the Krohn..."

Redwing snapped the flatscreen off. Tess looked at him strangely "What are you
watching the corpdrek for? thinking of enlisting to fight the Heshers?"

"No," snapped Redwing irritably."I think our Mr. Hawke is an offworlder. Slader,
when you go see Icer, have him check the lists of recent arrivals from
outsystem. We may be fighting offplanet."

"Yokay, Red," said the techie.


                  *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

"You think they'll take the job?" asked Stahl as they made their way out of
Chiba City and back to their hotel. He scanned the area for tails and found
none.

"Yes. They will take the job. Redwing nearly covered his reaction when I gave
him the pay for the job. He'll take it. Trust me." He looked at his friend.
"Is something wrong?"

Stahl sighed."I hate this covert shit, man. Why don't we just have our forces
nuke that island and be done with it?"

"Watch what you say, Mike."Hawke stared at Stahl for a moment."We can't just go
in and knock out the island because we will be villified by the rest of
Humanity as a bunch of petty fools who can't drop their rivalries while our
race fights for its life against a ruthless foe. We have to get evidence.
Evidence that the Oberons had help when they invaded our home. The organization
that gave that assistance to our enemies must be taught a lesson in vengeance.
Moreso, we must stop them and the Oberons from ever doing this again."Hawke
glanced around." Let's get back to our room. The streets have ears."

"Just wish we could bring my drinking buddies with me,"Stahl muttered under his
breath.

                                TO BE CONTINUED(I hope)
For more data hit space.

A young man wearing a black jacket, blue jeans and a t-shirt walks into the
Chatsbuo. He wanders around until he reaches you and sits down in front of you.
"That was my idea for something to write in the Chatsbuo. Sorry if I screwed up
the timeline by putting it in the 2400s, but I wanted to do it that way since
it tied into an idea I've been toying with for about a year."He shrugs slightly,
obviously nervous about his first work."Anyway, as this continues it may not
seem very cyberpunk to you, but hey, this is what I'm writing. If you don't
like it, oh well."He grins and steeples his thin, bony hands on the table."I'm
afraid that this is going to have to be a solo project since I'm not quite sure
what I'm going to do next. But I won't mind constructive criticism--or
compliments if you like this. Anyway, I'm going to be out of college for a year
and I don't know whether or not my account will stay alive; I haven't officially
left the University, just sitting out two semesters. If my account dies, this is
it, otherwise I'll try and get a story in once every 2 weeks or so, depending
on when I can get to a terminal.Thanks." He gets up, turns away and walks to the
door, starting to cough slightly from the smoke."Dammit, should've come in as
Hawke," you hear him mutter as he walks outside the door. "HEY get away from
that powered armor!" you hear him shout, followed by a SMG burst and a scream.
"Damn boosters,"you hear him say as everything goes quiet in the Chats. There's
a clang of something metal closing followed by a whine and then a fadin <kshang>
,<kshang> that is drowned out as things return to normal in the bar.


Patrick Chester
Amatuer Military Genius
Other Fancy-but-stupid Titles

From: wolfone@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu (Patrick Chester)
Subject: Settling of Accounts: Intro
Date: 9 Sep 92 01:21:09 GMT

"Freighter *Prometheus*, this is Van Allen Control. You are cleared for
docking. Debarking passengers should exit your main personnel airlock for
Customs inspection. Advise them to meet there with their passports and
carry on belongings. Cargo inspection will be an hour after arrival. You may
proceed. Welcome to Terra. Van Allen Control, over."

"Much obliged, Van Allen," Captain Tillman transmited back."Beginning docking
procedures. Raedy to link to Docking Control." His fingers did a complex
tattoo over the holodynamic control panels that was incomprehensible to
the man sitting in the spare acceleration couch. The small freighter's bridge
would have been cramped if Tillman hadn't done extensive modifications to the
ship to reduce the needed crew by half.

Manuever warning bells went off as the wedge shaped ship fired thrusters in
a pattern determined by the stations dock control computer. Tillman's
experienced eyes watched the sensor screens for any stray ships while his
navigator monitored the *Prometheus*'s course for anomalies from her station.
Both were ready, out of habits drilled into them through decades of space
flight, to take control and abort in case of emergency. As usual, they
did not need to do so and the freighter floated through the huge station's
main docking bay and entered the berth it was told to go into by Docking
Control. There was a series of slight lurches as the docking couples locked
on and a transfer tube attached to the main airlock.

"You two make it seem so easy," commented the young man sitting behind the
two crew members.

His smile never reached his eyes, thought Mortimer Tillman. But then, they
haven't since the war. 	

"Bet you couldn't do it,"First Officer/Navigator Rebeca Cochrane said dryly.

"No, you're right," the man said humbly."But it still looks deceptively easy."
He got up."I'd better get ready for the customs inspection. I hope the medical
inspection isn't as bad as it was at the last world."

"It'll be worse,"Tillman said, mirth crinkling his old face."Terra is very
paranoid about alien diseases infecting Man's Cradle. You'll get the full
treatment. Especially since you're coming from a war zone."

"But biologicals weren't used on Lafor *or* Fulson,"the young man protested.

"Like I said, Terra doesn't take chances."

The young man unbuckled and floated out of his couch with the resignation of
a death row inmate who's last appeal has been denied. "Might as well get over
with it," he muttered as he kicked of to the lift and left the bridge.

Tillman turned to Cochrane."Now you know why I rarely touch dirt," he said.

Cochrane merely grinned.


********************************************************************************
The young man floated through the door to the stateroom and woke the hulking
man sleeping in the top bunk.

"Time to get up Mike. We have customs to go through."

Mike groaned."Can't they just carry me through while I sleep?"

"Sorry friend, no reprieve for the damned. Now let's get going. We have to
catch the shuttle down to Chiba to set up ops."

Mike threw a pillow at him and dug himself out of the webbing.

"I hate mornings," he mumbled.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright September 1992 by Patrick Chester
This can be seen as a prologue. How am I doing so far?

--
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Patrick Chester            |"The earth is too fragile a basket in which to keep
wolfone@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu |  all your eggs." Robert A. Heinlein
claypigeon                 |"The meek shall inherit the earth. The rest of us
(Destroyer Fiend)          |  are going to the stars." Anonymous
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: wolfone@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu (Patrick Chester)
Subject: STORY: Settling of Accounts pt.2
Date: 9 Oct 92 17:58:59 GMT

Okay, here's my second part of my story.
Sorry I'm a bit late. If you are very interested in this story and missed part
one, I can email it to you on request. I doubt that will happen because this is
getting off to a slow start and while I am arrogant enough to post my literary
"talent" onto the net, I am not arrogant enough to expect instant fans.


Oh well, here goes....
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was raining in Chiba again--big surprise. Kevin Hawke stepped out of the
maglev unit not too soon after the doors started parting. Michael Stahl moved
quickly after him trying to catch up with his friend.

"Best keep your guard up, Mike. We're approaching the sprawlzone," Kevin said
calmly.

Michael glanced around the area and noticed the decay that seemed to get
steadily worse as they proceeded down the sidewalk. The buildings were
decaying and were liberally spotted with the craters of stray bullets. People
huddled in alleys or whatever shelter they could find while the predators of
the street roamed the town looking for prey. The police were nonexistent save
for aerodynes screaming overhead, the rare ground vehicle patrol and the even
rarer police raids on suspected crime organizations. There were more important
things for the police to concentrate on, so they usually came in force only if
those important things were in this part of town.

Through this walked two offworlders who had no real knowledge of the area. Oh,
Kevin had general streetwiseness and had a mapchip in the chip socket in his
neck but they hadn't actually been to this area before. Still, people gave
them a wide berth. It may have been their clothing, Mike in black battle
fatigues and Kevin wearing a black trenchcoat over a business suit and carrying
a cane. The SMG on Mike's holster kept the lesser vermin away from the two.
The look in Kevin's eyes kept the stronger predators at a watchfull distance.

As they crossed an intersection, Kevin saw the holoprojected sign for the
Chatsubo. He was nearing the bar when two toughs stepped out of the alley and
blocked their path. When they did not react to his stare, Kevin rested his
cane on his shoulder and smiled.

"Excuse me. We need to pass," Kevin said in a polite tone.

"Not til we finish our biz, Mr. Johnson," the shorter one said."You owe us
some yen, right?"

"Yen?"

"No Mr. Wiz stuff, chummer. You owe us 5K. Now pay, corpgeek." He took a step
forward. Kevin stopped him by poking him in the chest with his cane. "Hey!"

Kevin grinned."I know something you don't know."

"What iz that?"

"I'm not a corpgeek and I'm not left handed."

Short Thug's eyebrows creased in confusion for a moment until his dim wits
realized his mark had smarted off to him. "Slot-head!!" He screamed. Grabbing
the cane, he swung his right fist out at Kevin.

Kevin easily ducked the blow. Yanking hard on the grip to his cane he drew
the short monosword it concealed with the shhhhhkt! of a blade being drawn from
it's sheath. Pulling back for room, he faced both thugs and fixed both with a
blazing stare.

"Back off..... Now," Kevin stated in a calm voice. Behind him he heard Mike
draw his subgun and click the safety off.

The two thugs scurried away as Mike scanned the area for more trouble.

"What the hell was *that* all about?"asked Mike.

"Beats me,"Kevin shrugged."Must be Chiba's way of welcoming strangers. Either
that or we have two evil twins wreaking untold havoc among the edgers in the
city." He resheathed the sword and used it as a cane again. Now he was going
to have to find another way to conceal a blade. Within an hour, he knew, word
of that trick he pulled might very well spread to potential foes. Nevermind
that it was a very old trick.

They both walked the rest of the way to the Chats undisturbed.

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


FINALLY!! Finished the frackin' thing. Okay, how many of you *knew* the cane
was a concealed sword? Sit down Kevin, you already knew. Yeah, I figured that
would be very obvious. After all, it is an old trick (ancient in the 25th
century.)

Copyright 1992 by Patrick Chester

Use without permission and you'll be headed for the frontlines to fight the
Krohn. UNDERSTAND?! Good :)
--
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Patrick Chester            |"The earth is too fragile a basket in which to keep
wolfone@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu |  all your eggs." Robert A. Heinlein
Politically Incorrect      |"The meek shall inherit the earth. The rest of us
Future Lunar Colonist      |  are going to the stars." Anonymous
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


From: wolfone@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu (Patrick Chester)
Subject: STORY: Settling of Accounts pt.3/?
Date: 21 Oct 92 00:19:39 GMT

The man at the door made both men stand on a sensor platform and have their
bodies scanned for weapons. The sonic probes gave both headaches as they
probed for strange echos.

"Do you want us to check our weapons in?" asked Kevin.

"No. You can keep your hardware, but don't use it unless the police or some
corp does a hit here. Else, if you have a gurdge with somebody, take it outside
and handle it there. Don't follow this and Ratz will get very angry."

"Ah... Thanks for the advice."

"Standard newcomer speech."

"Do you know where I could find Mr. Ratz?"

"At the bar. Guy with the old cyberarm."

"Thanks." Kevin moved off towards the bar, Mike following.

The Chats clientele seemed to prefer paramilitary clothing, dyed leather or
gang colors for clothing. At the bar a man of about fifty or so was wiping the
counter with a dirty rag held in an old cyberarm. Gears and servos whirred and
clicked as they rythmically moved the rag in circles. The place was buzzing
with small conversations and a band was setting up instruments on a well-worn
stage. Kevin decided to make contact w/Ratz before the deluge of noise really
began.

"Mr. Ratz?" Kevin spoke carefully.

Ratz looked up. He set the rag down and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, young man. What do you need?"
[writer's note: sorry if this mucks up Ratz. He isn't a central character]

"My contacts tell me that this is a good place to hire.. specialists for jobs
that need to be quiet," Kevin stated smoothly. "This is the right place, isn't
it?"

"What sort of drink do you want?"

"Coffee, please."

Ratz placed a mug on the counter and leaned towards Kevin. "You are Kevin Hawke
the Knight Errant, right?"

Kevin hid his surprise."How did you.."

"Your friend Moses gave me some info and told me you were coming. What is this
`Knight' thing anyway? Are you an artiste of some sort?"

"Just an honorary where I come from. We don't have any real nobility in the
Republic."

"But you are an artiste in the arena of the streets, no?"

"In ways," Kevin said with a sly smile.

"Drink your coffee and come back tommorow. I will have the Cornucopia send some
candidates you may need."

Kevin noticed the holovision and nodded thanks to Ratz absently. He stiffened
slightly when he saw several cylindrical starships appear in the tank. He
tapped Mike on the shoulder and gestured toward the holotank.

"Damn Oberons," Mike muttered when he saw it.

"20 credits that its the 5th Assault Fleet," Kevin muttered along with him.

"No bet. What are they doing here at Sol?"

"Providing forces that the nice neat Armistice Committee made them provide to
fight the Krohn with as `punishment' for fighting a war with other humans
instead of the Enemy of Humanity. The ADF 1st Fleet should arrive today also
so the Republic can follow its bargain with the ArmComs." Kevin could not keep
bitterness out of his voice."At least they made the Oberons contribute 50% of
their forces spread out in six fleets all over the front against the Krohn.
Else, the ADF would be outnumbered just by sending the 15% we were required to
send."

"Calm down, Kevin. Don't want to attract attention."

Kevin chuckled."The student instructs the teacher on covert ops?"

"Let's head back. We can get more data at the hotel."

Kevin merely nodded and followed Mike out. _Dammit, Kevin. Get ahold of your
temper_ he berated himself silently as they walked out the door.

Kevin heard a groundcar moving a full power when he glanced up and saw Short
Thug leaning out the window holding an assault rifle.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Okay, I told you it would pick up soon. :)

Copyright 1992 by Patrick Chester

<insert usual threat against copyright violations>

--
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Patrick Chester            |"The earth is too fragile a basket in which to keep
wolfone@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu |  all your eggs." Robert A. Heinlein
Politically Incorrect      |"The meek shall inherit the earth. The rest of us
Future Lunar Colonist      |  are going to the stars." Anonymous
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------