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Dave Menard wrote:
Well, here we go with my very first attempt at any sort of BGC fanfic.
C+C is desperately craved, even if it's only to tell me I've botched it
completely.
You've botched it completely.
Oh, wait, You want me to read it first before I cast judgment? Seems a bit
backward to me, but okay.
******
"Hayashi-san, I'm disappointed we could not reach an
understanding."
Usually the lines said right before someone is killed. Or about to be
divorced.
"If you examine our latest offer, Hayashi-san, you'll
find that you and your family retain control. We merely-"
Will own your souls. Now isn't that a good deal?
"Forty-nine percent of the shares is _not_ control, sir.
I have no interest in becoming the figurehead of the company I
built with my own two hands!"
Not counting the contractors he hired to do the actual physical building
with their 'own two hands'. :)
"Very well, Hayashi-san. We shall see what tomorrow
brings."
"Tomorrow will change nothing! Good _day_, sir!"
"Good day, Hayashi-san. Tell me, do you know where your
son is right now?"
Hayashi: Get real. That's not my son. My wife's been cheating on me for
years and I sure as hell don't sleep with her. Why do you think I keep two
mistresses in condos and spend more on them than my wife.
Actually your line is bit cliche. Should try to do something else to
leverage the guy.
"W-what? Are you threatening me?"
"Such an ugly word. We do not threaten, Hayashi-san. We
warn." The line went dead.
Hayashi felt reassured. For a moment there, he had thought his son was in
danger or something.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Space Pirate Productions Present:
A Dave Menard Fanfiction
"DIVINE WIND"
An Adventure of the Original Knight Sabe
Sabe?
"I know that Priss has suspected this for some time, but
I think you should know...
We're all lesbians."
"Cool. Group orgy!" Nene shouted.
You're not the first Knight Sabers.
I formed a team before you.
"At the time I was young, and almost as hot-headed as
Priss;
Sylia: But not as butch. I knew how to dress like a lady.
***
TOKYO, June, 2037
ADP Firebee choppers buzzed angrily around the top of the
evacuated Hayashi Communications building. At the base of the
structure, patrol cars and heavy SWAT units awaited the
outcome of the battle raging on the roof.
They knew that the ADP was cannon fodder for boomers, and were making sure
when the Firebees were shot down, they weren't hit with falling debris.
Leon MacNicol, recently promoted to detective, was in a
mood his partner would have aptly described as 'bitchy', and
was taking it out on a 'Trooper.
drop stray '
Daley plastered a sympathetic smile on his face and tuned
out as Leon slid into version twenty-two of his "what's wrong
with the ADP these days" rant, remembering to nod and make
affirmative-sounding noises every once in a while.
I'd say he'll make someone a nice husband someday, but this is Daley we're
talking about.
servicewoman's heart; as usual, irritation won out. "Where the
hell WERE you, Stingray?"
"I was unfortunately
awkward. I'd get rid of 'unfortunately' or make it the first word
"The head's mine," Red growled.
Maria liked getting head.
The mechanoid bellowed, shaking the thin projectiles out
of its muzzle and snapped at Green, who sprung back out of
reach with a hip-thruster-assisted leap.
Hidden behind her faceplate, an unpleasant grin grew on
Maria's face as the HUD of her scanner suite pinpointed the
core processor in the boomer's head. She tongued on the comm-
switch
She liked giving tongue as well.
Jill frowned under her helmet. "That _is_ pretty
strange... But Syl, just don't stay up all night workin' on
this. I've got plans for you tonight, missy."
Ah. So she's as big a perv as Sylia is. No wonder Syl acts so lonely with
her new quartet. No one to bang. :)
Daley Wong slid his glasses down his nose and blinked. He
was a recent transfer out of Police Sciences, but he'd made a
point of learning the names of all the officers in the
detachment. He'd never seen the tall, crew-cutted
I think it's just 'crew-cut'
"Even with that prosthetic leg, she can still drop a
full-armoured 'Trooper in his tracks. I even saw her punch a
K-suit once. Dented the sonovabitch, too. Trying to get her to
stay behind the barricades is more trouble than it's worth,
trust me."
"I do so love all the fascinating little minutae of this
job."
"Yeah, it's a laugh riot, ain't it?"
Nice exchange.
Detective Lieutenant William Fanward ignored the jab and
shook his head. Ibanez had been something of a mentor to him
back in his days as a 'Trooper, and sure, he felt sorry for
her; Hell,
hell
"Aw, Christ. Fuckin' snitches." Maria groaned.
Yeah. How dare they make you try to toe the line. :P
"Fair enough. Wouldn't want her worrying about strange
women keeping you out 'till all hours of the morning. The
usual place?"
Fanward: Your bed? Sure.
She could remember the exact date, hour and minute the
club had opened, since she had been awakened from a pleasant
dream involving Leonardo DiCaprio (her favorite leading man,
never mind that he's pushing the high side of sixty. Some men,
like fine wine, just get better with age...)
and then other simmer in a pile of their own excrement their entire lives as
bums that had one decent movie in their careers. :)
they'd had their Asimov protocols, the directives that
theoretically prevented them from ever doing harm to humans
through action or inaction, removed or seriously compromised.
Used to be only the military wanted or needed toys this
think 'that' would be better.
"Johnny, stop it!" the girl cried, latching on to the
biker's arm. "She ain't worth it, let's just go! Maybe
Morrie's got somethin' left in his stash, huh? C'mon Johnny-"
"Fuck that, Priss!
Heh. Great. Thought it might be her.
As she watched, he slapped his girl hard, sending her to
the pavement clutching at her jaw.
Oops. Mistake
Elsewhere...
"You bastards! My SON was in that building!"
"Ah, so. My condolences on your unfortunate loss,
Hayashi-san
"You sent that thing, didn't you?"
"Think you can get my wife next? I'll pay you," Hayashi offered.
"It is indeed a sad thing for a father to outlive his
heir. Tell me, Hayashi-san. Have you given any thought to our
offer? In light of these events, it seems your legacy may be
in doubt..."
"Y-yes, fine. I'll make the sale."
"Excellent, Hayashi-san. We are glad you have seen reason
at last. We look forward to working with you in future days."
Hayashi: Not when you find out I've embezzeled all the funds and I've sent a
computer virus to gut everything the instant the sale is passed.
Sylia restrained a giggle. "I suppose I mustn't keep her
waiting, then. Tell her I'll be along momentarily."
"Very good, Mistress.
Sylia: No no. Jillian's the Mistress tonight. I'm get to be the 'bitch'.
"I suppose you know that will cause him no end of
distress?" Sylia laughed. "'Mistress Sylia! Your manicure!'"
she cried in mock horror.
"Yeah, ain't I a stinker?"
Very
She'd have to look into FudoCorp. A company that
challenged any of GENOM's various monopolies was worth
investing in. Her personal fortune, while certainly not among
the top ten, or even top fifty in Tokyo, had grown beyond the
point where she'd ever have to worry about money for the rest
of her life. More than enough to fund her personal crusade,
and still have plenty of funds left to invest in worthwhile
enterprises.
Like lingere stores.
Sylia shook her head with a soft laugh. Nothing in her
lover's posture suggested that she even knew the meaning of
the word 'stiff',
flexibility was half of their relationship, after all. Good sex was the
other half.
as each movement flowed smoothly into the
next, a deadly and graceful ballet that ended with a series of
forward flips that deposited her next to the bed.
But won't save her ass in the end. :P
"Hmmph. No surprises there. Pass me the horoscopes,
willya?"
"Here,"
"Here."
He'd been a musician himself, back in the twenty-
twenties, worked as a session man for some of the greats.
Svenson, The Paris Carlton Project, The Juice, Karla Estevez,
The Rolling Stones. Over a hundred and the old farts were still touring.
They'd probably fall over dead if they stopped.
The style was quickly becoming identified with Tokyo,
just as previous genres of popular music had been indelibly
linked in the public mind with cities like San Francisco, New
York
or Chumbumkin, Idaho
That's why he wasn't surprised to get the call that
morning, shortly before eleven.
"Finnegan-san, my name is Sakamoto. I represent a group
of investors who wish to purchase an interest in your
nightclub."
Finnegan: Two Billion Dollars.
Sakamoto: Too pricey
Finnegan: Oh? I'm sorry to hear that. Do you know where your son is?
Sakamoto: Hey! That's my line.
"Yeah, uh, same here." Finnegan hung up and leaned back
in his chair with a groan. He'd have to make a few calls, see
if there was anyone else in the neighbourhood they'd
approached. Maybe by presenting a united front, they might be
able to head this off before it went any farther...
Or at least hire assassins to kill the prospective buyers. They understand
that kind of lingo.
After fifteen minutes of sweating alcohol poisons from
every pore in her body, she made her way to the shower and sat
under the steaming spray until her skin was bright pink with
white traceries and whorls of scar tissue standing out in
stark relief.
Nice imagery.
With a frown, she brought it up in a separate window. Of
the boomers that had gone rogue for no discernable reason,
fully 75% had been serviced by a Boomers 'R Us franchise in
the past six months!
How is it no one at ADP noticed this?
It's called surpression. :)
Quickly, she brought up a profile of the business. As a
publicly traded company, the information was available through
her sources at several brokerage houses. Founded two years ago
by Tombo Yakage, a retired employee of GENOM's service
department. Is it possible that they still retain some ties to
GENOM?
Is a bear Catholic? Does the Pope crap in the woods?
She frowned. Much as she liked to lay all the evils of
the world at GENOM's feet, this simply didn't seem like their
style. Besides, GENOM has
had (sounds better)
There was more to this than immediately met the eye,
No kidding. :P
Nigel Kirkland was one of the few people outside the ADP
that she actually felt comfortable around. He was one of those
people who were just content to work or sit quietly, without
feeling the need to fill the air up with useless chatter. He
was a competent mech', and she respected that. She'd known
more than a few guys like him in the service and on the force,
mostly in the motor pool and tech support jobs; quietly
professional, stand-up guys, who took pride in doing a job
right.
Yep. Sounds like him.
"Take off your pants,"
When I try that, I tend to get slapped. :(
She was relieved to remember that she'd chosen a fairly
utilitarian pair of underpants this morning, instead of
something risque or, even worse, old-granny panties.
Her 'Hello Kitty' underwear was nice and understated.
"Little early to be drinking, isn't it?"
Blasphemy! It's never too early or too late to drink.
"I hate it when people ask you if they can ask a
question. Just ask."
Heh.
"Can't you use this high-faluting 'mystery-tech' to build
me a leg, then?"
"I could, but I won't. Bad enough you wear the suit as
often as you do."
Of course, it might make the difference between life and death here.
Very nice work. Maria and Jill were well rounded and easy to understand. We
got to know them as the story progressed rather than simply being told what
they were like. It flowed well and caught be interest immidiately. Enough of
the rest of the cast was also present, so the original characters didn't
control too much of the action. Very few grammar errors. I'll definitely
look forward to reading more.
D.B. Sommer