CyberEpic

Disclaimers:

Copyright: The characters of Xena: Warrior Princess are owned by MCA/Universal and used here without permission. References to certain theories of dark, enigmatic, computerized futures belong to whoever.... The genre is so far gone now, I cant really say it only belongs to Gibson. Everything else is mine.

Warnings: This story contains same-gender sexual subtext throughout to include at least one rather steamy scene of two women having a very good time. There are the standard scenes of violence. This story contains several expletives as well. This story has references to drugs/alcohol to include usage, sales and distribution of same. If you're under the age of consent, leave. If it's illegal where you're currently residing, move. If any of these bug you, then bug out.

Suggested listening: 'The Last of the Mohicans' soundtrack.... My inspiration! And, by extension, anything by Clannad! (Pretty weird when you consider this is a CYBERPUNK story.....) Consider this a 'Mohican/Johnny Mnemonic' crossover.....

Author's Note: Since finishing and posting this CyberUber tale in August 1998 I've been a little put off by it. I'm not the only one, either, since I heard from several of you folks out there that it just didn't seem.... finished.... Well, at the time, there'd been some major things going on in RL (doncha HATE it when that happens?) and I lost interest in the story. Couldn't seem to get the gumption to finish the blasted thing.

Now, I'm not saying that it's any better. For the most part, I've merely shuffled scenes around a bit. But I've added a smidge more cybernetics and, ultimately, maybe another scene or two.... We'll see how it all turns out, eh?

Comments to Redhawk. No bad mouthin', lippy, attitude stuff. Honest criticism would be appreciated.

Illustrated CyberEpic

The Asian man sat behind a desk in a medium sized office. Outside the smallish window was the town of Pendleton, Oregon, a backwater burg that had sold its soul to the devil and conceded to Corporation rule. The man was dressed in a navy blue jumpsuit with heavy stripes of white slashing across the chest and arms. A cable ran from the port in his right temple to the computer pad before him. His arms and hands moved hither and yon, head turning back and forth, eyes watching invisible movement. To the uninformed, he looked autistic, using ritual movements that his troubled mind had devised to compensate for his problem. In reality, he was hooked into the web, conducting business.

Kenneth Shimizu, regional security chief of the Azteca Corporation, grabbed up a piece of data running across his desktop, scanned it, filed it, and sent out a quick memo in reference to it within minutes. Other databits vied for his attention, leaping and cavorting around, blinking wildly in a variety of colors. With just a little concentration, his real time office came into view, the deskphone ringing.

With a quick flick of his wrist, he accessed his phone line, opening it. "Shimizu," he barked.

"Did you intercept the package?" Shimizu sent another memo out and accessed the Canadian Interference file. He listened as he scanned over the information.

The man behind the desk snorted in derision. "Lucky?! More like incompetence," he insisted in a sharp voice, visually running through the list of operatives involved. "I want everybody in the field demoted. Let's transfer in some fresh troops from Silicon Valley, too."

"Yes, sir." There was a pause. "Sir, there are no operatives in the field. No survivors on this mission."

For a tenth of a second, Shimizu froze before continuing his mental and physical manipulations. "Then I guess you'd better hop on that personnel transfer, eh?"

"Yes, sir." Another pause. "There seems to have been some outside interference - three sets of cycle tracks leaving the area. The courier must have been aided somehow."

"Yes, sir, I think so. ID/body match up is pretty consistent. We have an ID for Shannon Elias, Canadian National, but no body."

The security director severed the connection and brought up a map of the tri-state area. Time to play hide and seek.

Rather than continue on their original path westward, going into the desert and becoming sitting ducks for a Corps patrol, Dusky let them back into the Rockies. They traveled for about four hours, sticking to country and logging roads, spending only short periods of time on or crossing the highway. The three bikes rotated point every hour or so with no words spoken between them, the red gold hair of the woman behind their leader shining in the sun.

Dusky spent most of the time working through the thoughts in her head. And the unknown woman's proximity was extremely distracting, the jostling of the bike over ruts and bumps causing breasts to brush against her back and hands to grip her hips more firmly. At one point, the dark woman realized that she had been subconsciously and purposely hitting potholes and rocks, and a wry grin fleetingly crossed her face. Lecherous woman.

The royal blue eyes kept returning to her memory. When she had met those eyes, there seemed to be a spark, a flash behind them. And then it was gone. It was uncanny. She'd met gringas before, had bedded quite a few of them, but this one... This one was different somehow. And for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. For a weird moment, Dusky could have sworn that the two had met before. But, she would have remembered meeting this gringa, no doubt about it.

And in Dusky's heart was a sense of impending..... something. Excitement, trepidation, dread, and relief all vied for their places. A whirlwind of emotions and dim feelings that scattered through the pack leader, leaving her sitting in dismay at the center of the storm. She shook her head, bringing herself back to the here and now.

Back on point, she turned off the highway and made for an old campground near Winchester, Idaho. The retreat was over. It was time to regroup, get their bearings, and figure out what to do next. They passed through the campground, finding an abandoned game trail and following it to a small clearing. She shut the bike down and regretfully moved away from the gringa.

As quiet settled on the clearing, she said, "We'll crash here tonight. No open fire after dark. Shake, you've got first watch."

"We're running low on water, Dusky," her uncle stated. He pulled his gear off the back of his motorcycle and set it on the clearing floor.

Removing her own tack, she nodded. "Let's get a fire started, then. We've got a couple of hours to boil some from the lake." She turned to the woman standing by her bike, looking her up and down appreciatively. "You ever go camping?"

Shannon shook her head. "Not like this. Only at government run camps." She sensed the American's disappointment and felt an irrational rush of sorrow at having caused it. She mercilessly stomped on it, almost missing what the woman said next.

"Clear away some of the debris in the middle here. Get some rocks and build a ring. About half a meter across." Dusky turned away from the redhead. "C'mon, Shake, let's go find some wood."

Shannon watched her leave the clearing with the teenager - Shake, that's his name. Hers is... Dusky...? She glanced at the older man with a braided beard. He unpacked their belongings and began to set up camp, moving efficiently and silently, ignoring her. The redhead heaved a sigh and began doing her chore.

The flight from the attack site had been uneventful, a good thing in her books. She had wanted to see the Americas and the Americas she was seeing. She had imagined what it would have been like in these mountains a hundred years earlier, before the beginning of strip mining, slash logging and the complications of global warming.

But those thoughts were fleeting. Most of the trip had been spent surreptitiously studying the back of the woman, the two men with them, and the motorcycles they were riding. At home she had heard horror stories of nomads. Nomads were bloodthirsty subhumans that indiscriminately killed everything in their path. They were filthy, covered in cybergear, and bristled with weapons. Nomads took over small towns and destroyed them for fun. They were used as scare tactics by parents in Canada - 'be good or we'll sell you to the nomads.'

But, these three didn't act very bloodthirsty. Except when they were dispatching Corporate survivors. They weren't filthy, just currently covered with road dust, as she was herself. About the only evident cybergear was Dusky's eye and the weapons didn't look too over the top. Shannon tried to imagine these three taking over a small town to rape, pillage and destroy. Despite herself, she snorted aloud as she finished clearing the fire pit.

Shannon looked sharply at him, wondering if she had offended. His face was closed to her and she couldn't tell. "Uh... no. I was just, you know... thinking to myself, that's all."

Remy nodded solemnly and finished putting the three sleepbags out. The Canadian started rooting around the clearing for rocks, placing them in a circle around the cleared area. Once finished, she dusted off her hands and stood there awkwardly.

"We'll both go," the man nodded. He picked up a medium sized cook pot and handed it to her, taking a larger one for himself.

Emboldened, Shannon asked, "What's your name?" as they threaded their way through the ragged woods.

The redhead sighed quietly. "You're a nomad, right?" At the distracted nod, she continued, "What... uh... 'group'?"

"I'm Shannon," she offered, wondering if the other two were as reticent as Remy was. She got an acknowledging nod and then they were at the edge of a small murky lake. She smothered a sigh.

Remy waded out into the brown water to his knees, past the worst of the muck and debris along the water's edge. With a swipe of his hand, he cleared the oily looking scum from the top and plunged his pot into the lake, quickly pulling it up before it could get too contaminated. He handed the pot back to Shannon and took hers, doing the same. The elder returned to the shore, stamping his boots before heading back to camp.

Shake and Dusky were already there. The woman was building up a smokeless fire while her packmate was dismantling his autopistol for a quick cleaning before dark and his watch. As they approached, she rose and took the water from Shannon.

"Sit down," the low voice ordered distractedly. Dusky indicated a sleepbag and turned away to set the water to boil. Not bothering to see whether the redhead had obeyed or not, the leader sat on the same sleepbag and looked to the two men. "Well, what'd we score?"

Shake spoke up first. "Got quite a bit of ammo. Picked up another LAW," he indicated an olive green tube hanging from his motorcycle. "Only survivor was a Corps."

The younger man nodded with a snort. "Of course," he said with a slight shrug of one shoulder. He continued to run small cloth patches through the barrel of his pistol, getting at the powder discharge inside.

The older man had taken the time to retrieve his rifle and was beginning to disassemble it for cleaning. "Got some good stuff, Dusk," he said with a slight grin. "We've got food for a few more days now.... Picked up nearly half a case of rations from that HumV that wasn't exploded." He looked pointedly at a bag by Dusky's sleepbag.

The dark woman grinned and scooped it up, rummaging inside as she spoke. "Got me some more ammo. The HumV wasn't too badly damaged, but all the firepower was in the other ones. Not much else except her." With that, Dusky pulled a meal ration out of the bag and handed it to the her' in question.

Shannon gulped and accepted the foil packet, unsure if she was being insulted or not by the tone of the other woman's voice. "Um... thanks," she said softly. Go with the flow, Elias. You don't know these people or their ways.

Dusky pulled a packet out for herself and tossed one to each of the men. She continued to ignore the woman beside her. Using her teeth she opened the packet, the automatic heating element igniting upon contact with the air. In seconds, the food was steaming. The dark woman and her packmates lost no time in scarfing it down.

The redhead watched for a few moments, reminded of starving animals. She opened her own meal and sniffed at it, wondering if her kind judgement of these people had been too hasty. No utensils were used or provided so she adopted their style of eating, squeezing the food up to the opening to be eaten, albeit a bit more daintily than the Wolves.

As they finished eating, the packets went into the fire. Dusky checked the water to ensure it was boiling, adjusted a pot closer to the flame, and sat back down. Suddenly, the redhead felt all eyes on her. She took a deep breath and held her chin up, refusing to drop her gaze from the silver/green eyes that bored into her.

"My name is Shannon Elias, and I'm a courier for the Canadian Government Ministry." Seeing little reaction, the she continued, "I don't even know if the Corps were after me, let alone why."

Dusky reached out a bold hand and moved the red gold hair aside, grabbing the back of Shannon's head and tilting it to the side to see the port. She ran her rough thumb over it before letting her go. "You know what you're carrying?"

The courier shook her head no, trying to regain the equilibrium that she had lost with the dark woman's touch. It had been like an electric shock through her bloodstream. It's been far too long since I've taken anyone to bed, obviously. She fell back onto her meditative technique to settle herself.

The elder watched his niece unconsciously rubbing her fingertips against her thumb after releasing the woman's head. His own green eyes narrowed and he began watching the women closely.

"To Boise. They've got the codes for my download." Curiosity getting the better of her and becoming decidedly irritated with the other woman's attitude of superiority, Shannon asked, "Do you work for the government, then?" She was not prepared for the response.

The three Wolves burst into laughter. Shake laughed so hard, he broke into tears and rolled on his sleepbag, howling. Remy's was a dry chuckle but he was able to continue cleaning his rifle. The woman next to her chortled, eyes dancing merrily at the thought.

If anything, Shannon's annoyance rose another notch. "So, you work for a Corps, then?" came the next question. This illicited even more laughter from the trio.

The teenager was holding his sides weakly. "Stop...." he begged her, laughing. "No more!"

Dusky wiped a tear from her green eye, still chuckling. "Oh.... That was good!" She looked at the redhead, noting the flush of anger and the soft lips pressed together in aggravation. God, she's beautiful when she's angry! Her laughter suddenly dried up and she fought to resist the urge to feel those lips against hers, to make them sigh and moan, to hear them call her name.

The elder continued cleaning his rifle, watching his niece, his own laughter gone.

Shannon saw the intensity in the silver/green eyes, felt an answering energy from within her. And then it was gone as if it never was. Her irritation and anger had dissipated, replaced by sudden confusion.

Dusky turned from her, using the pots of boiling water as an excuse to break away. "No, we don't work for either." She set a third pot nearby and used a thin cloth to cover one of the boiling ones. With a deft movement, she flipped the boiling pot over the new one, the cloth sufficiently filtering out the worst of the slime that had boiled up. That finished, she put the new pot back onto the fire and did the same for the other one.

Shake began putting his pistol back together. He shrugged as he worked. "We found the Corps tracks and followed. Figured we'd get our licks in when we saw what was going down." He glanced up once at Shannon, brown eyes distant from her in ways she couldn't even begin to fathom. "You're just lucky enough to be with the military and not the Corps."

Shannon remembered the boy shooting a downed person and shuddered. That could have been me! Remy's voice broke in to her ruminations.

The teenager at least had the sense to blush as he grinned at her apologetically. The courier returned it with her own small smile and a nod.

"As for why we took you," Dusky continued, "what the Corps wants, we deny if we can." She poked a stick at the fire, stirring the embers. She had a sudden urge to have a little fun with the gringa. With an idle shrug, her back still turned to the woman, she winked at the two men and said, "Besides, I found you. You're mine now." She felt an incredibly long silence building that suddenly erupted with sputtering. Dusky fought to master a smirk.

"W...w....what?!" Blue eyes were wide as she stared at the dark woman's braid. She looked at the two men for confirmation. Shake shrugged with a grin and finished reassembling his pistol. Remy's face showed nothing. "What do you mean, I'm yours?!" she demanded, her voice becoming high pitched and strangled.

With the experience of a master, Dusky schooled her features. She turned to regard the courier, her face as stone and one dark brow raised. "What part of 'mine' don't you understand?" she asked with icy calm. And as she said it, something deep down inside accepted and believed it. This woman was hers. It was just a matter of time. What the hell....?

Shannon's mind shut down. She could only sit there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. She shot a pleading look at the older man, but he barely noticed her as he cleaned his rifle. Shake was no help either as he loaded his pistol and stretched out long brown arms. The redhead could feel her anger igniting. How dare she....? The audacity....! She glared into silver/green eyes. And there was a flash of.... recognition? A memory that was not, an incredible feeling of deja vu, the knowledge that what had been said was true, right. Complete. For the second time in less than fifteen minutes, Shannon's anger dissipated, replaced with bewilderment. She looked down at her hands, trying to marshal scattered thoughts.

Dusky's face softened. She looked apologetic, but didn't speak. She brushed red gold hair from the woman's right shoulder and grasped it. When the Canadian looked up, Dusky wordlessly raised her eyebrows. You alright? she asked silently.

The pack leader released the woman's shoulder and turned back to the pots of boiling water. She glanced at her uncle and caught a wary gaze. Her own eyes narrowed. "What?"

Dusky scowled, quite aware that it was more than 'nothing'. Rather than get into an argument, she proceeded to filter the water once more, removing it from the flames. She rose from her sleepbag, gathering their canteens. Within a few minutes, all containers were full of decent water and sealed against the elements. A short time later, three cups of tea were steeping on the rocks.

The dark woman handed out cups to the men when the tea was ready. Long fingers brushed against Shannon's as she passed a cup to her and the redhead swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry in response to the tickle tingle rushing up her arm. What is wrong with me? She took a shaky breath and blew on her tea to cool it.

As the courier drank, Remy studied the two women. It was no secret that his niece preferred to bed women. That was part of their running 'dialog' on producing an heir. He'd only caught her in the act of seduction once, when she had thought she hadn't been observed. It had been a wonder to behold. He had actually begun to feel sorry for the poor woman his niece had targeted. She hadn't stood a snowball's chance in hell against Dusky's concentrated charm. The elder could sense that this little scenario was different. Dusky isn't in control. Hell, neither of 'em are. He finished up with his rifle. Not good. Not good at all.

The four sat in silence, drinking tea or deep in thought. Dusky stared into the flames, lips pursed as she worked out what to do the next day. Get the courier to Boise, of course. Maybe crash there before heading back to the coast to stop those fighters from showing up. The dark woman realized that she really needed to let off a little steam. And soon. Or this little preciada is going to be up to her beautiful blue eyeballs in dark nomadic lust. Dusky smiled softly to herself.

She heaved a sigh and looked at her packmates. "Shake, I'll relieve you later. We leave in the morning for Boise, get this gringa to her destination before heading to the coast."

The teenager nodded, sucking his teeth. He stood up and moved away from the encampment, into the blighted undergrowth. Remy stood as well, helping his niece put out the fire. Now that it was beginning to get dark out, they didn't need a beacon. Someone was looking for the woman they had picked up.

Shannon sat quietly on the sleepbag, wondering where she was going to be sleeping. Her ribald mind conjured all sorts of thoughts on that topic, and she hurriedly swallowed the last of her tea, burning her throat. Get hold of yourself, Elias. You don't know what these people are capable of.

Her question of sleep options was answered when Dusky pulled a spare blanket from her tack. She jutted her chin at the sleepbag. "You sleep there."

The redhead blinked in surprise. She had assumed that she would use the blanket. Apparently, Remy had thought the same thing, as he froze for a second and watched the dark woman with narrow eyes. Silver/green eyes glared at him and he capitulated, gracefully turning away from her and preparing for sleep. The glare was turned on Shannon and, in haste, she did the same.

Satisfied, Dusky curled up with the blanket near the redhead. She lay on her back, hands pillowing her head and stared up into the.night sky.

the cabin door opened. she strode in, searching, looking. a younger woman stood and rushed forward, bubbling, happy. the two met near the table, emerald and sapphire, dark and light.

hands caressed skin, cloth, leather. kisses started tender, advanced towards sultry, teeth and lips and tongues vying for supremacy over each other. clothing and armor and weapons fell to the floor in heaps and jangles. shattering of crockery as a long arm swept the table clear. skin on skin, flowers and cinnamon, musky arousal, wood grain grinding into tender flesh. sighs and moans and whimpers. the taste of salt, the feel of slick velvet. waves rushing in, sudden crashing as passion reached its zenith. gentle caresses, cooling bodies entwined, tender lips.

"Welcome home."

Dusky woke in the pre-dawn, wisps of an extremely erotic dream tickling her memory. She sat up, resting forearms on bent knees, blinking owlishly. Glancing to her left, she saw her sleepbag full of gringa. Oh, yeah.... An overnight stay in Boise is definitely required, she thought wryly. The pack leader rose, dusting herself off and nodding a greeting to her uncle who had taken the last watch. She folded the blanket and stowed it before moving away to relieve herself.

The elder moved into the clearing and knelt by Shake. With a slight nudge to the shoulder, the teenager was awake. He nodded to Remy also before stretching and rubbing sleep from his eyes. As the younger man sat up, the elder moved over and shook the woman they had picked up the day before. It took awhile and a lot of shaking, but she dragged herself from sleep with reluctance.

The courier blearily opened her eyes, staring into the solemn green of Remy's. "I'm up," she croaked and cleared her throat. The elder nodded and moved to pack up his gear. Shannon scrubbed at her face and sat up, looking cross. Mornings suck! She heaved a sigh, mind moving over the details of the dream she had been in the middle of. Verrry nice. Wonder if I'll get that kind of welcome when I get back to Canada.....? She giggled to herself at the thought and climbed out of Dusky's sleepbag. Not bloody likely!

The two men were packing up their gear. Shannon rolled up the sleepbag and put it with Dusky's pack. She wondered away to answer the call of nature.

The dark woman had finished her own personal duties and had moved further into the abandoned campground they had passed through the previous day. She shook out her braid, ran sure fingers through her hair, and rebraided it neatly. After a few minutes of stretching, she began running through her exercises.

Shannon saw movement through the scraggly trees and crept forward. The pack leader, eyes closed, was dancing. The smaller woman settled quietly down on a rock to watch, not wanting to cause a disturbance.

Dusky's muscles rippled as they moved in time with unheard music. Arms and legs weaved in and out with quite a bit of force, slicing the air. She whirled about, her body leaving gravity behind on some occasions, on others her hand the only contact with the ground as she spun head down. The moves were fluid and raw and powerful, not recognizable to the redhead as any dance she had seen before. As the dance continued, a thin sheen of sweat became visible on the woman in the early morning light, giving her the appearance of glowing. After long minutes, the dance slowed down, stopped, Dusky panting, her eyes still closed.

Realizing she might be intruding, Shannon stood and prepared to go back to the campsite.

The redhead slowly sank back down, blushing at having been caught. "I... uh... didn't mean to interrupt or anything," she said uncomfortably.

Dusky shrugged and worked on her cooldown stretches. "No biggie. I heard you approach."

Studying her curiously, Shannon asked, "What was that, anyway? I've never seen anything quite like it."

"It's called capoeira," the dark woman responded, her breathing becoming normal. "It's a form of martial arts that originated with Brazilian slaves." Finished with her cooldown, she padded towards the redhead who stood up. "The slaves were forbidden to practice their fighting technique so they disguised it as a dance."

"It's beautiful," Shannon said. Her next thoughts fell out of her mouth before she could stop them. "You're beautiful," she murmured. Oh, God! Did I just say that?! She winced internally.

The physical exertion coupled with the sensual dream took their toll on the dark woman. Before the courier's eyes, Dusky transformed from a younger woman into a seductive jungle creature on the prowl. Silver/green eyes were hooded and took a long, leisurely look. Shannon could feel the fiery touch of those eyes on her from the tips of her toes to the ends of her hair. She swallowed convulsively.

Dusky took the final step, the women separated by only a few inches. Her strange eyes settled on the smaller woman's lips. Why not? she asked herself. Gotta get some reward for saving the damsel in distress. All the stories say so.

Sensing more than seeing the hand rise, Shannon reached out her right hand to stop it. I don't want this, she told herself firmly. A fleeting memory of her passionate dream crossed her mind and a smaller voice asked, I don't?! She felt long fingers wrap around her wrist, stopping its momentum. Another hand rose and took her chin, forcing it up, tilting the head just so. Despite her inner struggles, Shannon's lips parted slightly in invitation.

As their mouths neared, their breath mingled. Dusky inhaled deeply, committing this preciada's scent to memory. Roses, definitely roses.

All motion stopped, though the women's reactions were as different as night and day. Shannon froze like a deer in the headlights, tensing up and rolling her eyes to the right to see the elder. The dark woman simply stopped moving - a pause rather than a cessation of her activity - no stress, no tension evident. Her facial expression didn't change and her eyes remained on the other woman's lips. When the redhead tried to step back and away, Dusky held her firm by wrist and chin.

Remy stood nearby, rifle cradled in his arms. "When do you want to be leaving here?"

The elder nodded and turned away from the tableau. Now that's the Dusky I know, he thought smugly. Focused and unstoppable once the target is acquired. In control. As he made his way back to the clearing, he almost broke into a jaunty whistle.

Alone again, Dusky reminded the redhead of where she was, strong fingers on her chin and wrist squeezing gently. She lowered her head.

Their lips met, moving together. The dark woman's tongue caressed, demanding entry. She took what was freely given as Shannon deepened the kiss. It was a slow, measured exploration that Dusky engaged in, tongues entwining, familiarizing. She felt a soft hand wrapping around her right wrist holding the courier's chin.

Shannon melted into the kiss, the tingle burn of arousal blazing a sharp trail down to her belly. Eyes closed, she lost herself in the sensation. She gave herself. Echoing between the women were the words Dusky had spoken the night before "You're mine now."

The pack leader gradually broke off the kiss, retreating in increments until she finally nibbled Shannon's lower lip, causing the redhead to gasp and shiver. And then the connection was gone.

Shannon opened her eyes trying to get her bearing. She saw the dark woman walking away. Shaking her head to clear it, she heard the woman say, "Time to eat." The Canadian stood for a few seconds, touching her lips with her fingers. She turned to follow.

It wasn't long before the Red Wolves got back on the road. A quick breakfast of military rations and water before climbing aboard the bikes and roaring away. As they had the day before, the pack stuck to old logging and country roads with the occasional excursion onto the highway, rotating point among themselves in silence.

The monotony of the scenery and the steady rumble of the motorcycle put Shannon into a trancelike state. It wasn't long before she had her arms wrapped around the slim waist of the woman before her, head pillowed on a well muscled shoulder. She dozed off.

Dusky's driving became less turbulent and she used a hand to hold onto the woman's arms when she didn't need to shift gears. At one point, Shake moved forward to take the lead, grinning at the women and rolling his eyes at Dusky. The dark woman gave a slight shrug and a smirk. Whaddya gonna do?

After several hours, they pulled over to the side of the logging road they were on and into a small field. Their engines were shut down and the men climbed off their bikes. Remy worked some kinks out of his back while Shake dug in his bags for lunch.

The change in her surroundings rousted the courier. She unconsciously squeezed Dusky's waist in a hug before pulling away, her vantage point not allowing her to see the raised eyebrow. She stretched as the leader got off the bike. "Where are we? What time is it?" she yawned.

Shannon carefully dismounted from the motorcycle, finding muscles she didn't remember having. Ouch! My fanny's gonna be killing me tomorrow. She accepted a ration pouch from the teenager and looked to Dusky. "How long before we get there?"

The dark woman stood a few feet away, her back to the courier. Shake responded for her. "Another four or five hours, give or take. It'll be slow going in the mountains until we get to the desert. We'll have a straight shot from there." He took a swig from his canteen.

Dusky glanced back over her shoulder at the gringa, before turning back to study the surrounding hills. "We see if Uncle Sam'll pay a reward for his missing property. Plug in for the night. Split in the morning." She missed the courier's frown at the suggestion she was property.

Remy snorted. "Yeah, well I'll leave that to you youngsters," he said with a grin. "Me? I'll get a drink and then head back to the flop. You guys can tear the town down." He raised his hand at Shake's beginning argument. "Somebody's gotta be able to post bail, ya know."

The rest of the lunch break was spent trying to convince the older man to join the teenagers at Ritzy's. From the conversation, Shannon was able to gather that it was a renovated warehouse near the rails in Boise and quite the hot spot. It was rumored that anything could be had there, both figuratively and literally.

At Azteca Corporation, Shimizu was playing a solo game of racquetball when his phone rang. With a peculiar flick of his wrist, he accessed the line. "Shimizu!" he barked.

"Yes, sir, Harrelson, sir. The new troops just arrived. Where do you want them deployed?"

The small black ball came racing towards him and he gracefully backhanded it away. "Have 'em hang out between Boise and the mountains. There's no doubt that that's where the courier was heading." The ball returned and he sailed it away again with a resounding thwock! "Keep an eye on all roads coming out of the Rockies."

"Then you'd better learn fast. I'll see you at the courts next Thursday at one." Sweat ran into his eyes and he missed the next swing, the ball bouncing furiously away.

The nomads eventually made their way out of the mountainous region, moving through yellow rolling hills. They skirted towns that grew progressively larger as the terrain flattened. The landscape was occasionally cut up into squares of varying colors of greens and browns as they neared farming communities.

Despite their attempts at distancing themselves from the locals, traffic around them began to pick up - beat up old vehicles that had seen even worse days than the bikes, the incidental electric car putting along at 25 kilometers per hour, even a lone three wheeled bicycle. And in all cases were the looks of fear, disgust and loathing on the peoples' faces.

Shannon watched the Wolves for a response and saw none. They continued on their way, ignoring the populace's opinions. Though, she had to admit that they appeared more stone-faced than earlier in the day. Running with the wrong crowd again, Elias, she quipped to herself. When are you ever gonna learn?

They passed through the outskirts of Horseshoe Bend, generally scaring the residents of a little shanty town in the shadows of the industrial area. A mangy dog chased them for a few blocks before tiring, stopping on the side of the road to pant heavily, sides lathered. The river that ran nearby had been fouled by the dog food plant and a hazy odor permeated the entire area. The redhead buried her face in Dusky's shoulder, nose wrinkled in disgust.

And then they were past the town. The air cleared up considerably, though hints of the stench wisped across their path from the filthy river nearby. They eventually passed a sign that read 'Boise 20 miles'.

Dusky nodded regally and took point, Remy pulling up behind her and the teenager taking over as rear guard.

Shake saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to the right. He saw a white Corporation riot car paralleling them in the hills. "Corps!" he warned. He hit his brakes, skidding to a stop as he simultaneously reached for the LAW he had picked up in their last skirmish. Within seconds the tube had been extended, the site raised, and he was aiming the anti-tank weapon. Pressing the button, a rocket launched itself from his shoulder and arrowed for the vehicle. As it exploded in pyrotechnics, he said softly, "Gotcha." Shake dropped the spent tube and pulled away on his bike.

The elder had heard the boy's yell. He glanced back to see Shake stop and target the riot car. Even as it blew up, he saw another Corps car crest a hill thirty meters away. It opened fire on the teenager, a round knocking him down and others whining off the bike and ground. "Dusky!" he bellowed, turning his motorcycle around.

The leader heard the explosion and looked over her shoulder. She watched Shake fall and Remy turn. "Shit!" Dusky turned her bike around as well, pulling up short. A Colt M22A2 rifle with an attached grenade launcher was pulled quickly out of its scabbard. She sited the second Corps car and let fly two grenades. One bounced ineffectively off the windshield but the second blew the undercarriage and severely damaged the tranny. It slowed to a halt, smoking, and the shock troopers inside poured out.

Remy reached the wounded teenager and scooped him up behind him. He wheeled around and sped out of the area. Behind them another white riot car came into view, roaring past the second vehicle and ignoring the angry troopers wanting to be picked up.

Dusky fired another grenade but the mechanism jammed. "Fuck!" Rather than deal with a possible live round on her bike, she tossed the weapon aside. "Hang on, gringa!" she yelled, hitting the gas and spinning around on the road. Shannon held on tightly as the dark woman laid down rubber. Dusky accelerated away, her people bringing up the rear.

It was just a matter of speed and time now. The two bikes weaved back and forth to avoid being hit, throttles wide open. They were able to push it to nearly one hundred kilometer an hour before the Harleys started to protest.

Crouched low over the handlebars, Dusky risked a glance back. They had gained some time as the remaining riot car had to cut over to the road they were traversing. The Fort Boise Wall began to materialize before them as they neared. "C'mon, baby, c'mon, baby," Dusky muttered her mantra.

Shannon peeked over her shoulder as the Corps vehicle lurched onto the hardtop and began speeding up. There wasn't much of a noticeable difference, but they were gaining on the nomads. A small turret on top swung around, pointing at the fleeing bikes. "Here it comes!" she yelled a warning before burying her face in Dusky's back and clinging to her waist.

There was an explosion to their left and the bike wobbled from the concussion. "Christ!" the pack leader growled. The Boise Wall loomed larger. Remy's bike inched up beside hers, just enough to reassure. With a nod, she poured it on, despite the growing complaint from the motorcycle. She could make out people gathering on the wall and movement in the twin towers on either side of the road. Now let's just hope they can tell the difference between friend and foe. Another explosion rocked the bike, this time on the right.

Just as they came in range of the tower guns, a third explosion slammed the bike. Dusky fought with the handlebars to keep control, almost losing it and sending them both into the ditch. The flames from the round had come so close they had singed the hair off her right arm.

And then the big guns in the towers began firing volley after volley behind them. The bikes slowed down in the shadow of the wall and the riders looked back. The riot car sent out a final shot that fell shorts as it screeched to a halt and reversed. In seconds, it was high tailing it away, rounds bursting about them.

The four breathed a collective sigh of relief. "You okay?" the dark woman asked her passenger.

"Yeah, I'm good. Check on Shake," the redhead responded, releasing her deathgrip on the other woman's waist.

Dusky set the bike on its stand and dismounted, moving to her uncle's bike. Shake was swearing a blue streak and bleeding from a shoulder wound. Remy was already applying pressure to it.

The leader nodded in relief, gripping Shake's good shoulder. She heard a noise behind her and turned as the gates were opened. A squad of ten Military Police officers poured out, rifles ready. They spread out and covered the nomads as another man followed them out.

After their weapons and transportation had been impounded, the four were escorted by the sergeant that had greeted them and several MPs to a nearby building. It was only a matter of minutes before they were put into a small room with bars on the windows and a table with three chairs in the center.

Even as the door closed and locked, Shannon was trying to explain what was going on. "Look! I'm a courier with the GovMin of Canada, damn it! Let me speak to Gina Conway!" The resounding click of the bolt being drawn angered her further and she kicked at the door in frustration. Hearing a dry chuckle behind her, she turned and glared, hands on her hips.

Remy had moved Shake to the table and was using his canteen to clean the wound. Dusky was standing in front of the window, smiling at the redhead.

Dusky's grin widened. "No problem. Just enjoyin' the show." She padded closer. "Tell me, gringa, you expected a different sort of reception in our company?" She laughed again, pulling up a chair and offering it to Shannon. "Take a load off, little girl. It'll be awhile."

Realizing the truth of the pack leader's statement did nothing to cool the courier off. Little girl?! Hell, I'm older than she is! She growled and crossed her arms in front of her chest, fists formed tightly. Shannon moved over to the window, ignoring the proffered chair, and glared out of it.

With a little rummaging between the three Wolves, they were able to dig up a sewing kit from their pockets. Remy finished cleaning the teenager's wound, splashing a bit of whiskey on it from a small flask he had. Shake hissed at the burning. The dark woman then took over with a needle and thread, sewing the wound up on both sides of the shoulder with small, precise stitches. She used her teeth to cut off the excess thread and rubbed the young man on the back.

"Congrats. Now you can show off the scar to all the women," she joked. "Women love scars." She was gratified by an answering smile.

"Yeah, well," the elder cut in, "don't use that as an excuse to get too many scars, boy."

Shake moved his shoulder slowly, wincing. "Don't worry about that, Remy," he said. "I don't think the pain's worth it."

Dusky moved over to the window, standing beside the redhead who was still fuming. She crossed her own arms over her chest as well, and stared silently out the window.

They had a fine view of the Boise Wall. Three meters high, one meter thick, and kilometers long, it surrounded the city. The only breaks were the occasional gates like the one they had been through. The residents weren't cut off from the outside, though. With the proper credentials and references, entry was allowed. Of course, the courier's paperwork was in her pack somewhere in the state of Washington. And the Wolves hadn't had time to have any forged.

In an offhand voice, Dusky spoke. "No need to go ballistic about it. This is SOP."

"Standard operating procedure. Now we just hurry up and wait." She rubbed her left upper arm. "Typical military behavior."

Realizing that no more information was to be forthcoming, Shannon sighed in annoyance and turned back to the window. "Locking us up is stupid. I just wish they'd get their heads out of their asses and let me complete this job."

The pack leader's eyebrow went up, as did her level of interest in the woman beside her. Hmmmm..... Maybe this gringa has balls after all. She heard footsteps in the hall outside. "They're coming."

Shannon was amazed at the speed the nomads used. In a matter of seconds, Shake was tilted back in a chair, idly picking his teeth with a toothpick as he balanced on the two back legs. The elder had crossed the room and leaned casually against the window frame, staring out into nothing and pulling at his beard. Dusky had literally flipped over the table, settling down on its top on the other side, facing the door. For all appearances, three lazy lions relaxed in the room, only there on the sufferance of their pride leader.

There was a rattling at the door and it was opened. There were four armed guards standing outside. A corporal stepped into the room, glancing about at the occupants. "Shannon Elias?" he asked them.

The courier stood as tall as her smaller stature would allow her. "Yes?" she asked, staring down her nose at the man.

The courier moved around the table, looking at Dusky. She caught the slight nod, sighing in return. With a frown, she turned back to the corporal. "Well, let's go then. I haven't got all day!" She stepped past him and out into the hall.

Flustered, the corporal followed and the door was locked behind him. Two of the guards remained behind as they walked down the hall.

After a long series of non descript hallways, turnings and branchings, they finally arrived at an office. The corporal knocked and ushered her into the room, quietly closing the door behind her and remaining with the guards outside.

It was a small office as offices went. No potted plant here, she thought to herself. There was a full set of bookshelves to one side and file cabinets on the other. The plump gray haired woman behind the desk stood upon her entry.

Reaching across the desk, she held out her hand. "Ms. Elias, I'm Gina Conway." She gestured the woman to a chair and sat down herself. "I hear you've been asking for me."

Relieved, Shannon allowed herself a small smile. "Yes! I have! I'm from the Canadian Government Ministry in Vancouver, British Columbia."

"Yes, I do. Ten gigs compressed. You have the download codes?" she asked anxiously.

The older woman made a face. "Well, yes and no." She flipped through a file on her desk. "We received the codes for download, but our computers are acting up at the moment."

"Yes. They've been crashing with some frequency over the last two days." She looked at the courier with sympathy. "I can't authorize your download quite yet. I'd hate for you to be online during a crash. There's no telling what that'd do to you or the information."

The redhead sighed in disappointment. She had hoped to get it over with quickly and see if she could hitch a ride with the Wolves back to the coast. But they're leaving tomorrow, providing their not under arrest. She focused again on the woman who had continued talking.

"...in any case. We'll set you up with a room for the time being. Of course, you have free reign in the city. We only ask that you stay fairly close during business hours, just in case."

"Friends?" Conway consulted the paperwork again. "Says you left with a platoon of Fort Lewis military. None made it in with you." She glanced up in confusion.

"No, no. There're three nomads being held right now. They picked me up during the Corps attack on the platoon. If it wasn't for them, I'd be dead now."

"Oh! Nomads, well...." Conway shrugged with a dismissive air. "We'll set them back outside the walls, no problem."

Shannon felt the pulsing of a headache in her temples. Her brow furrowed once more and she glared with royal blue daggers at the older woman. "You're not getting it. I want my friends released and allowed free access to the city. I also want them rewarded for helping me. They've lost time, equipment and blood to get me here."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "You're not exactly in a position to be demanding anything, missy," she grated.

"And you're not exactly in a position to be denying me, either," Shannon answered in the same tone. "Just because you're computers are down doesn't mean you own me. And don't think that I can't find a terminal somewhere. I can trash this," she tapped her right temple, "before you even have time to think." At loggerheads, the redhead took a deep breath. Try another tact. "Look, what'll it hurt to allow them out for the next day? They just want to blow off some steam and leave in the morning."

Conway stared at her for long moments. Finally, she nodded her stiff neck. "You've got it." She pulled out a keypad and began working on it. "They'll be released within the hour, given a hefty sum as a reward and allowed free reign for the night."

The older woman raised a disbelieving eyebrow at the sudden, innocent young woman that sat in front of her, before continuing with the keypad.

Listings of works by Redhawk
The Infinity Series
More in the Infinity Series
Return to the Fan Fiction area