Shadowrun: Under Pressure: Shadowrun Novella

By Scott Schletz

SEARCH AND RECOVER…

 

It should have been an easy job for Tycho and his team: Travel to the Sioux Nation, in the region that was once the state of Montana, and investigate what happened to the previous shadowrunning team that had gone up there to check out…something.

 

But of course, things are never easy in the shadows, and soon Tycho and his fellow runners are up to their eyeballs in double-crosses and mysterious goings-on—including the seeming complete disappearance of the previous shadowrunning team.

 

Their search leads them to the wilds near Yellowstone, where the answers they seek lie deep within the earth…and uncover a secret that, if revealed, could result in the complete destruction of the entire Sixth World…  
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Catalyst Game Labs
• Release date: May 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201452599

Book preview

Shadowrun: Under Pressure

Shadowrun: Under Pressure

Scott Schletz

Catalyst Game Labs

Contents

I

Mr. Johnson, I Presume

II

Cascade Coyote

III

One Stop Shop

IV

Following Breadcrumbs

V

Legwork

VI

Off the Beaten Path

XI

Seelie Dreams

VII

Blood Ties

VIII

Rushing Blood

IX

Uneasy Peace

X

Epilogue

Looking for More Shadowrun Fiction?

I

Mr. Johnson, I Presume

We’ve got a pack of Uptowners harassing the door. Rotor’s husky voice came over the comms. They might disrupt the meet. Deal with it?

Depends on your definition of ‘dealing with it,’ Vyper commed back. Through the scope of his rifle, he could clearly see the group of suit-clad gangers milling about beneath the retro-chic sign, Roscoe’s, written in stylized script, hanging above one of the windows adjacent to the front door.

Deter them. Nothing more, Tycho said. It was an order, not a suggestion. He had no desire to draw any unwanted attention to his team. The problem was, gangers, even ones with practically no real street cred like the Uptowners, increased the chances of some MeFeed junkie catching a look at them while recording the Uptowners for entertainment.

From the safety of her van down the block, Rotor tapped a few commands into her command console, sending a trio of pre-programmed orders to her rotodrone, currently gliding along among the thin local drone traffic above. It was a nice tactical option to be able to hide your drones among the collection of floating and flitting machines zipping along 10 meters over the road. Some places she regularly worked didn’t have that option, but here on the periphery of Seattle’s Downtown, it was a benefit of civilization.

As the commands transmitted, Rotor glanced up through her AR overlay and spotted her own rich amber eyes in the rearview mirror. The accent of silver eyeliner and richness of her dark lashes another reminder of visiting civilization. For most runs she didn’t bother with make-up and wore stained coveralls. But tonight, this rare trip downtown, risked time in public and for that, she’d forsaken the coveralls for a burgundy pant suit. She had considered fixing her hair, but stuck to lashing her auburn locks back into a utilitarian ponytail. The whole look would scream corporate dwarf out after work if she needed to leave the comfort of her vehicular hovel.

Following its commands, the drone slipped down out of the march of buzzing unmanned craft above. Its transponder code switched out for a burner as a swathe of its body, ringed in ruthenium, shifted from bland grey to shimmering silver. A well-known black and red KE, the logo for Knight Errant, slid along the frame like a scrolling banner. As it approached the quartet of Uptowners, it locked a set of micro-spotlights onto their faces. Its loudspeaker came to life behind a short squelch of the siren.

Seattle citizens. Hold your positions for an identification verification.

Rotor had taken that pre-recorded voice from a real Lone Star drone she purchased before scrubbing its idents. From the way they froze, the Uptowners didn’t recognize the discrepancy between logo and recording.

Tycho, the edges of his three-quarter length coat waving in the rotodrone’s wash, stood a few meters behind the Uptowners. The wash tousled his shoulder-length, coal-black hair, casting long strands across the angular features of his face and blocking his eyes. The hair did little to block his real view. Though his emerald eyes appeared unfocused, he was watching them closely, their auras exposed to him while he opened his mind to the astral. While others could read body language and other physical cues, Tycho went straight to the soul to suss out their intentions.

Fraggin’ random, my left cheek, Tycho heard one of the Uptowners say. This one’s aura showed a brief ripple of indignation and anger, but settled quickly into his truest feeling. Fear.

Shut it, Fitz, another snapped, quieter than his pal, but still audible. Tycho could see the ripples of concern in the whisperer’s aura, which also showed less fear than his counterpart.

This ain’t a Z-Zone. This is serious, a third piped up, louder than his other concerned counterpart. Fear battled with bravado in his voice, but Tycho could see the truth. He wanted no trouble from the law.

Tycho focused closer on the fourth, who hadn’t spoken. It wasn’t a good sign. The fourth Uptowner, on ork, had a few black streaks in his aura. It was a sign of cyberware. The implants stuck out in contrast as inorganic materials surrounded by astrally energetic live flesh. The ’wares were mostly around his face, but a thin black line ran to the dull mass that was once his foot. Tycho could also tell the ork was obviously mundane, mages glowed bright on the astral. His biggest concern were flashes of violet revealing a level of stress the other three weren’t feeling. He probably had more heat on him right now—or a low-quality fake SIN. The latter was going draw a whole different kind of heat to the area if GOD, the Matrix police, came down to take a look. Either way Tycho, needed to do something before the Uptowners did something stupid.

Rotor, clear them, Tycho subvocalized.

Can’t, she responded through the comms.

This isn’t the time to mess around, snapped Tycho. That ork is about to go off.

The roto is total dogbrain, Rotor protested. It’s my protocol to trim hackers. It’s not running any wireless signal except its ident. She knew it was a solid program; it always cleared the people it stopped. Sometimes it just held them up for a few minutes.

Let’s hope the ork holds it together, Vyper said. He was watching everything from atop a roof down the street.

We don’t operate on hope, Tycho scolded.

Refocusing his vision back on the mundane world, Tycho brushed the hair from his face with a single sweep of his hand, then took in the scene from his new perspective. The four Uptowners were still caught in the spotlights and the passing locals were now giving the whole scene a wide berth. Three of the gangers were looking down, faces turned from the blinding light. The fourth, the potential troublemaker, had his head up, which meant part of those dim spots in his aura was likely a set of cybereyes with a dimming feature. They could be trouble if they had some other high-end features, but given the reputation of the Uptowners, Tycho doubted this ork had the cash for that. The local gang was all about fancy suits and attitudes. Their rap sheets were usually full of petty charges like disturbing the peace with the occasional mugging. The immediate problem was that the ork was slowly shifting his torso a centimeter at a time, and Tycho could see the sharp point at the back of his waistband. A pistol.

Dropping his shoulders and lowering his head to look more like a sad corporate wage slave, Tycho headed straight for the ork with a plan that would either defuse the situation or send it spiraling out of control.

Across the street from Roscoe’s, sipping soykaf and apparently swiping and scrolling items in hir AR feed, g33k watched Tycho closely. Ze had already marked each of the Uptowners’ commlinks and tried to locate their weapons on their PANs. Those Personal Area Networks were full of bland AR ganger graffiti and connections to ridiculous MeFeeds and P2.0 personalities, but little else. If they had guns, they must have been using throwbacks or ditched the wireless out of fear of people like hir. It was kind of a valid fear as the commlinks were hirs and the Uptowners wouldn’t be calling for help. Keeping them from calling in the cavalry was all ze was worried about.

Free to watch since ze had already done hir job, g33k sat back with hir drink and enjoyed the show.

Tycho’s approach was smooth. He was feigning distraction, but based on the team’s feed, g33k could tell he was watching the Uptowners via the camera feed from his wrist-mounted commlink. It was outside the cuff of his coat, uncommon for Tycho, and he was holding his arm across his chest, rubbing at his opposite shoulder. As he neared the gangers, he feigned a slight stumble and bumped into the ork.

The bump was quickly followed by a flurry of apologies and submissive posturing from Tycho. A smirk crossed g33k’s lips as ze watched one of the most dangerous men ze knew pander to the ork’s ego. For a moment the ork bristled, but the apologetic display, combined with the drone turning its twin gun barrels and jacking the brightness of the spotlight on the ork to 11, calmed the situation quickly while Tycho scurried away.

It was a thing to behold. Especially since g33k knew full well that Tycho could’ve dropped the ork Uptowner and his pals in a blink, rather than picking a pocket. Ze was always astonished by Tycho. He talked about following Wise Warrior, but he avoided fights like a vampire avoids sunlight. Skilled in the martial arts, but never looking for a fight. Ze knew Tycho’s native heritage brought plenty of brawls his way,