As Wily and Muller briefed Kowalski on their latest intel on
the Church of Death (or Life, depending on who you talked to), Hart leant
against the door and looked on, his lips curled in a scowl. Although he’d
trained for years to deal with the general weirdness that the citizenry of
Mega-City One could come up with, there was something about the current
situation that seemed...more wrong, somehow. Taken individually, the existence
of crazed futsie preachers howling about the end of the world, a renewed
interest in some frankly appalling juve music and an uptick in pirate vidders
meant nothing; just business as usual in the charged atmosphere of the
overcrowded city. But taken together...wrong. As he looked on, Kowalski
conferred briefly with the other members of the tac-team and headed out, giving
Hart an ironic half-salute as she left. Seeing the scowl on Hart’s face deepen,
Wily explained that Kowalski was going to check in with her contacts in
Psi-Dive to see what they could come up with. In the meantime, the three remaining
team members would put their investigative skills to use at the Sector House
until a lead presented itself. At this, Muller and Hart exchanged glances;
although, like all judges, they were both experts in a range of technical
investigative skills, it could be said that they preferred the more ‘hands-on’
(or ‘fist-on’) approach to crime management. Still, until something concrete
came up...
Tac-team Wily spent much of the next few hours in desk work,
looking for the lead that would move them further on with their investigation. Judge
Hart uncovered more information on the BS group known as ‘Eternal Master’. The
band had briefly ridden high on what was then a new juve muzik craze in MC1, or
had until their lead singer Hobbins had been shot dead by an unknown assailant on
the last date of a tour to launch their album ‘Songs to Wake the Dead’. The
remaining band members (guitarist Verso, bassist Axon and drummer Gopher) had struggled
on briefly, but met with little success before fading into obscurity. The investigating
Judge, Santana, had been unable to identify the killer and soon after had taken
the Long Walk. In his case, rather than bringing law to the Cursed Earth,
Santana had elected to bring the iron fist of the Justice Department to the Undercity;
that part of Old America that had forever been sealed off from the light as the
new Mega-City had grown over the ruins of the old world, like a scab over an
open wound.
As the three Judges hunched over their vid-screens in the
darkened room, the door suddenly burst open, admitting both a harsh light and
the excited form of Tek-Judge Klop. ‘We’ve located the pirate vid transmissions
you were interested in; they’re transmitting now!’. Breathlessly, he explained
that the signals had been difficult to trace as they were on the move
constantly; in fact, they seemed to be coming from a mo-pad, one of the
residential vehicles that constantly roamed the city’s roadways. As Hart headed
for the turbo-lift to the garage, Klop put his arm out to stop him but stopped
short when he caught sight of Hart’s expression: ‘If you go by road, there’s a
good chance we’ll lose the trace before you reach the target. So I’ve taken the
liberty of requisitioning a H-Wagon on your behalf; it’s waiting on the roof
for you now’.
The team arrived at the rooftop at a dead run, and were met
by the backdraft from H-Wagon jets as they headed out onto the rooftop
launchpad. Waiting for them was a stripped-down H-Wagon variant, sacrificing
protection and armament for speed and manoeuvrability. The pilots of such
vehicles were known for their cavalier approach to danger, and this one was no
exception. No sooner had Wily, Hart and Muller leapt aboard the vehicle than it
leapt away into the hazy, polluted sky that hung over the city like a shroud. At
Wily’s request, Pilot-Judge Ferro left the doors open as they raced towards the
still-moving pirate vid-trace. For his part, Wily loved the rush of wind as
they careened headlong through the skies; it was the only time the air could be
described as feeling fresh, in his opinion.
Taking as direct a route to their target as possible, Ferro
plunged through a series of hab-block sized holograms, cheerily pushing their
various wares on the eager populace. One hologram showed a 200 metre image of
Otto Sump, his disfigured features being
all that was needed to push his particular brand of cosmetics. Another
towering image showed two simpering pet owners fawning over rat-like dogs with
bulging eyes; one of them was plunged into misery when her pet died, whereas
the other grinned like a loon as their pet remained healthy, albeit with a
green glow from its eyes. ‘Everpet!’ ran the slogan ‘don’t let your pet die
before you do! With Everpet, Spot don’t stop!’. A final hologram showed two
so-called celebrities, Donny Jepp and Bleara Frightly, moodily promoting their latest revolting
fragrance, ‘Smell the Kneepad’.
Almost before the Judges had finished sneering at the
lengths marketeers would go to in MC1, they reached their target; a large and
relatively new mo-pad moving like a whale through the shoal of smaller vehicles
that surrounded it. Shouting over the roar of the engines despite the helmet
mikes they all wore, Hart leaned forward and pointed directly behind the speeding
mo-pad. ‘Line us up in there! We’ll infil from that point!’. As the Ferro
skilfully piloted into the indicated position, Wily, Muller and Hart pulled on
the standard issue grav-chutes. The design was based on those approved for
civilian use, but whereas civ versions had basic robotic brains to limit
misuse, Judges were given full control. As the H-Wagon lined up, Hart and
Muller leaped onto the mo-pad without hesitation. More through eagerness than
lack of skill, Wily caught his foot slightly as he exited and skewed his
trajectory so that he only barely hit his intended landing point. Looking up
quickly, he saw that his team-mates were too focussed on their task to notice
his slip...or so he hoped. As they hunched against the rushing wind, the
H-Wagon pulled back to a safe regulation distance. Almost by design, all three
Judges heard a crackle over their helmet mikes and a familiar voice ground into
their ears. ‘Tac-Team Wily: be advised that this frequency is being monitored
under SJS protocol 1-3, as ordered by Judge Smith’. All three Judges exchanged
a look despite their situation, and Wily swore he could hear Muller’s teeth
grinding even over the roar of traffic.
Turning to the task at hand, Muller moved to the right of
the vehicle and Hart to the left whilst Wily took the rear. Bypassing the locks
with their pass-cards, Hart threw a Stumm grenade into the front of the vehicle.
As the debilitating gas started to fill the interior, the occupants signalled
their displeasure by spraying bullets at the vehicle’s doors. Muller shut his
door quickly, muttering under his breath as bullets ricocheted past him.
Drawing his Lawgiver, he responded with a volley of his own and was rewarded
with a howl of pain from within. Almost simultaneously, Hart wrenched his door
open and somersaulted towards the rear of the compartment, raising his Lawgiver
as he did so. Two further SE shots rang out from Muller and Hart, and the two
presumed pirate vidders fell to the ground clutching various wounded body
parts. Meanwhile, Wily had clambered into the rear of the mo-pad and made his
way down a short corridor with doors opening off from it. Not inclined to give
the benefit of the doubt, Wily smashed the nearest door of its hinges. Seeing a
perp hunched behind the door, he did what his Applied Violence tutors would
have recommended and administered a vicious head-butt, laying out the juve in
one go. Hart likewise administered Judge boot to the door, but in his case the
whole door came off its hinges, crushing the perp standing behind it.
Within a matterer of seconds, the three Judges had secured
the area as the Law demanded. Muller called it in, hoping that Judge Smith was
indeed still on the line. Hearing no response, Hart overrode the basic
autopilot and directed it to the Sector House. As they arrived, a team of Judge-Wardens
and other Specialist Judges were ready and waiting to process the huge vehicle
and its occupants. Within the hour, Tac-Team had a preliminary report to
review. Two of the occupants had proved to be the pirate vidders known as 'Dark Demon' and 'Death Angel'. Their real names were in fact Vladimir Brown and Alina Martask, both
of whom had the usual rap sheet consisting of minor assault, drug use,
antisocial behaviour and petty larceny. Apart from a flag from the Public
Surveillance Unit showing a higher than usual interest in BS muzik, nothing in
their history would suggest that either of them would be up to organsing their
own underwear, let alone violence against Judges. Acc-Div Judge Kierkegaard had
thoroughly analysed their financial records and confirmed that there was no
legal way that they would have been able to fund an operation like this. It was
clear that someone was providing backing to the perps, but more worrying was
the fact that their benefactor appeared able to cover their tracks so
effectively. The Tek-Judges had likewise decrypted all of their vid-logs and
communication history; again, these two chumps were merely mouthpieces for some
mysterious figure. With a sense of foreboding, Muller tasked the Tek-Squad with
reviewing all of the available data, looking for any pattern at all in their incitement
to violence and public disorder. There was something there, he was sure,
although he couldn’t quite put his finger on it...
His thoughts were interrupted by a crackle of static from
his helmet mike. ‘All available Judges, this is Control. Violent assault and
robbery reported in progress at the Bathory Street Medi Storage Facility.
Multiple fatalities reported. Immediate response required.’ Looking up, he
noted that Wily and Hart were already half-way to a line of readied Lawmasters
and raced off after them. Bathory Street was only a couple of blocks away, and what
he needed to clear his head was the judicious application of his boot to some poor
drokker’s face...
Arriving at the Bathory Street entrance, it was immediately
apparent that this wasn’t just some ill-thought through smash and grab. Medi
Storage buildings were built to be resistant to anything short of a nearby mini-nuke
blast, as they were intended to be supply points for medical aid in the event
of a widespread emergency. Likewise, they always had a complement of human staff
as robots alone could be disabled by EMP bursts. Therefore, the Judges were
surprised and a little disturbed to see the plas-steel doors of the storage
facility apparently peeled back like paper. A cursory interrogation of a
terrified DP who’d seen the whole thing confirmed that this was something more
than your standard gang of perps. As the DP shuffled off down the alley, the
team turned back towards the ruined entrance, Lawgivers drawn and at the ready.
As they did so, the last rays of the setting sun managed to struggle through
the mass of buildings, flyovers, towers and other detritus of what passed for 22nd
century civilisation and the Judges cast elongated, deformed shadows against the
front of the building. Ignoring what others may have taken as an omen and giving
each other a brief nod, Tac-Team Wily burst into action!
The interior of the warehouse was bathed in a ruddy glow, emergency
lighting having kicked in at some point during the raid. The place was wrecked,
with what appeared to be the body of a human security guard pinned beneath an
overturned stack of shelving on the far side of the room. With smooth, practiced
efficiency, the team moved left, taking the building section by section. Seeing
a closed door, Muller kicked it open, Wily covering him and Hart watching their
six. As soon as the door opened, however, a blur of almost unnatural speed caught
Wily off guard. In horror, the Judges recognised a creature that bore more than
a passing resemblance to the muties that had formed part of Jennifer Radley’s ‘coven’.
In its fanged maw, it held a bag of transfusion plasma that it suckled on
greedily even as it slashed forward with its misshapen claws. Based on past
experience, Wily and Muller took no chances and switched to special ammo, blasting
the creature apart with Hi-Ex and Incendiary. Before they did so, however, the
fiend plunged its claws deep into Muller’s shoulder, spreading a bone-deep chill
throughout his body.
Meanwhile, Hart spotted another beastly form leaping from an
alcove to their rear. As all three Judges turned to deal with the new foe,
screams could be heard from the darkened rear of the premises. ‘Hart, secure
those citizens!’ shouted Wily. ‘Muller and I will take care of things here!’. As
he raced towards the screams, Hart marvelled at the tone of command that had
edged into Wily’s voice. Wily himself was somewhat surprised, but he contented
himself with hammering seven shades out of the unnatural form clawing at his throat.
But even with two of the Department’s finest as opponents, the fiend still
managed to rake Muller once more, bringing him to the edge of collapse. Again, Wily
made a snap decision, ordering Muller to retreat whilst he held off the creature
alone. Hesitating only briefly, Muller turned and staggered outside, a hand
pressed to the deepest of his wounds; he had a plan.
Hart had discovered two more of the raiders besieging a
couple of citizens holed up in a storage room. Hearing Wily’s order to Muller
to retreat, Hart found himself defensible position where he could make the most
of his formidable combat abilities. Wily himself was holding off his own
attacker, but found himself being pressed back steadily. All was looking bleak for
the team, but a sudden roar gave Wily fresh hope as Muller re-entered the fray
astride a rumbling Lawmaster, its cannons whirring loudly as they cycled up to
fire.
Things were about to get interesting…
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