The Cyborg System-Chapter 66: Firm Grasp

It was the late hours of the night as Jeanine was tapping away at the keyboard, palms shaking a little from back-to-back double espressos. The picture had come in late, and so she’d not had much time to digest the information and find out more before jumping into writing the story. There was a high likelihood that another newspaper could snap up the piece if they were to stumble across the photos too, and then her story would be lost. Nobody wanted recycled articles.

Things had been quite quiet recently, and so when someone had thought to submit the security footage of more than a dozen middle-aged women dressed in blue habits cycling down the streets, holding spirit weapons, before thoroughly demolishing a bunch of prey tier beasts, she thought she’d hit the jackpot. People loved quirky. Even better, looking at their records, the faction were newly established, coming out of a religious order from the area. Looking at the faction registration paperwork, they were referring to themselves as the Holy Order and were led by a mysterious ex-hunter referring to herself as Mother Mercy.

Even better, in digging deep into her background, she had found some surprising details. She had returned back from a predator tier hunt on Xeno Minor, her entire squad slaughtered, with hardly a mark on her. It made sense with her ability, but still, when she had turned back up covered in blood with more than a dozen predator tier cores, her faction were more than a little shocked at the outcome. Shortly after that, she had left the faction, taking up a religious calling instead. That had been some years ago now. What had led her to form a new faction after all this time? She was subtly encouraging her readers to speculate too with subtle insinuations and selectively curated details.

The story was practically writing itself. It evolved from a quirky tale about a new force in town, to a character study of their leader. She’d even managed to find a picture of her covered in blood to include in the article. She was quite attractive at the time, even with blood flowing from her ears and all over her clothes. It wasn’t just human blood, but black beast blood too.

When she finally stopped typing, and submitted the article for review just in time for it to go to that morning’s press, she let out a long, satisfied sigh. She had a strong feeling her editor would get off her back, at least for a week or two.

*

Unbeknownst to Mother Mercy, who was training her squad in group warfare, a not insubstantial fire was being lit in the public’s imagination as they read their copies of Firm Grasp. Whether eating their breakfasts, or relieving themselves in the bathroom, the piece made for good reading material.

Many of the former supporters of the Madonnas were surprised to learn some of the details of the leader’s past. A woman who had always come across as quite serious, and devote, but not necessarily as someone to be considered heroic. Only her former sparring partners and the other factions knew somewhat of her true strength.

It could be said that the congregation felt a collective pang of guilt, one which they felt upon seeing their neighbours in the street. Not only did they heal them, but now they were saving them from the beasts too. This led many of them, to the Madonna’s surprise, to start attending service again from that following Sunday.

When more than a dozen people turned up at her locked door, Mother Mercy didn’t have a service prepared. Winging it with some of her favourite anecdotes and passages, she was able to cobble together something not only adequate for the occasion, but also fitting as a didactic message for her flock’s recent betrayal, closing on the words of forgiveness: "Come now, let us settle the matter... Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow."

*

Not everyone was pleased for the article that was seen in that day’s press. The House of Cards had a grudge against the Madonnas, one which knew few limits. Upon reading, Solomon had arranged a little reunion of his own.

Now, stood in front of him, was one of the envoys from the Shadow Faction. Although his rage was burning, even still, she emanated a dangerous air, one which did not warrant provoking.

"Yes?" said the woman with a bald head, dressed in black.

"I need to acquire some weapons," said Sol.

"You have weapons," she replied.

"I want two monster tier weapons, for me and my wife."

"You know it is illegal to simply sell anything above the predator rank," she replied with mock horror in her tone.

"Yes, but I will be taking down a faction who has at least one predator tier weapon. I have no intention of allowing them a chance to survive." 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

"What faction might that be?" asked the woman in black, a little curiosity in her tone.

"The Holy Order."

His response was met with a wide smile. "Very well. We can arrange that. It will cost eighty thousand credits each."

Sol and Queenie looked at one another.

"Is there no way to get a discount?" asked Queenie. "We have made lots of money for your faction throughout the years with this casino."

"That is with a twenty percent discount," replied the woman. "I will also remind you that you are more than welcome to challenge us, if you feel like you can take us out."

"She didn’t mean anything by it," said Sol, taking a diplomatic stance. The last thing they needed right now was conflict with the Shadows.

"Very well. Do you still want them? Or not?"

"We’ll take them," said Sol. "Just give us a few days to get the money together."

"Any preference for weapon type?"

"An axe if possible," said Sol. "Anything elemental would be a bonus."

"A poison knife," said Queenie. It was oddly specific, but the combination was somewhat common, for some reason, though this was not always the case, especially amongst women.

"Don’t contact me again until you have the money." And with that, she vanished.

"Is she still here?" asked Queenie.

"I don’t know," Sol confessed.

*

Mother Mercy was stood at the counter of the pawn shop with nine prey tier cores in her hands. They had a faint pink glow and a pack hunter affinity that would give a weak overall stat boost to the user when fighting with their companions. The owner’s eyes widened as the mouthpiece of his hookah dropped from his lips.

"I’ll give you four grand for all of them."

"I won’t take less than eight."

"Five and a half," he replied.

"Eight."

He waited for a long time. "You won’t reconsider?"

"No," came the response.

"Would you consider a trade instead?"

"Not unless you have a PTV for that price."

The man laughed at first, but then realised she was being serious. Such a purchase could not be made for anything less than thirty thousand credits and that would be for an older second-hand model

The man scanned the cores carefully, while pretending to mull the decision over. "I think I can do seven and a half grand," he said.

The purple card symbol on the front door left a sour taste in her mouth, knowing that some of the money would be going to the organisation who had caused them so much trouble, but the truth was, she was desperate. It was as simple as that.

Reluctantly, she accepted. "Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal."

*

End of training arc: The Western Alliance.

Next arc: Survival on the Beast Planets.