This juve called Steez had no colours, a local lad from Nu-Bedlam, the dead-end town the Hi-Viz boys were hiding out in. Steez's pa had fallen out with the Orlock overbosses and made his way downhive to eke out a life. Pa ran an ammo shack, but couldn't get his casings straight - the bullets always ran awry.
Steez had taken to hanging around with Dwice Necrofago, whose Jacker status qualified him as something of hero. Over the cycles, Dwice had come to enjoy the cheap acclaim, seeing Steez as the loyal ganger to the gang boss he someday hoped to be. This shift, the two lads were hanging round an old dead water still, taking turns to pop holes in its side with Dwice's autopistol.
'So then what happened, huh?' asked Steez.
'After we stuck the Jacker claimstick at the corpse farm? Well, big Vints only goes and takes his new dog for a walk, leaving the rest of us to stake out the claim. That's when the Cawdor boys turned up...'
'Aw frag!' gaped Steez. 'You guys were up against it, huh?'
'Well, yeah,' said Dwice. 'There must've been like twenty of them Crimson Carrion brothers, and only like five of us. Suddenly they're coming out of the walls, firing off 'splosives and roasting us with flamers and all that.'
'Ow, like a trip to the sinks!'
'Bet your boots. Anyway, tough ol' Akilles is down, Ijax takes one in the eye, Zammy and Onzo get taken out - even though Onzo slugged it out tough with one of their juves when his auto-p ran dry. So there's just me in the end, and like twenty of them, and I'm all there is between them and the claimstick.'
Steez was picturing the scene, speechless with awe.
'I hung in there good. They tried to burn me, they tried to take me out, but I ducked and weaved and got a few shots off. I did the Iron House proud, but in the end,what ya gonna do? Their boss man clobbered me, left me with this to remember the shift.'
Dwice held up his mangled hand, and Steez gazed upon it as if it were a relic of Terra itself. The wound was healing now, and it hadn't affected his aim, but it he'd lost a lot of dexterity when it came to wielding his knife.
'So... so that's when you guys all came back here, all busted up, and...'
'Yeah, yeah, the Crimson Carrion boys took the corpse pit, but Vints had heard there was a settlement what none of the Hacked Knee gangs had laid a claim on yet. Thing was, there was five of us all bashed up after the last scrap - even with that weirdo slopper Vints hired-'
'Who, Davvo?'
Dwice didn't dig the interruption. 'Yeah yeah, Davvo. Anyways, the slop got blindside Ijax back in the mix, but it was only him and Ivan who went with Vints to claim the settlement. Well, and Vint's dog as well...'
Here, Dwice shuddered at the memory of the beast.
'... and wouldn't you know it? There's only another bunch of Cawdors looking to take the turf as their own. The Hooded Men, they called themselves, not heard much about them round the zone. But it was the same deal as before, so Ijax says. Trash-chewing redemptionst nutters swarming from all corners, popping off flamers and blunderbuss shots... Sounds like we didn't stand much of a chance.'
'And we saw 'em coming back, right? The boss man all cut up about his dog getting killed?'
Dwice made a show of matching Steez's saddened look. He didn't mean it, of course - Krakjaw's demise had come as a relief to the paranoid Jacker juve.
'Wow,' continued Steez, 'it sure is a tough life running with the gangs. So this leaves the Jackers pretty short-handed, right?'
Dwice had seen this coming. Steez was clearly bored stiff with his dead-end life in this dead-end town. It didn't take a wych to clock he was angling for memebership of Vints's crew.
'So you want in on the Jackers, right? Hell, Steez, you seen us take all kinds of knocks since we been holed up here, and you still want in?'
'I do, I do. Anything's gotta be better than rotting away in this hole. I'd rather take a hundred bullets for the House. And I'm a decent shot, right? Getting better, anyways.'
Dwice nodded slowly. Steez was indeed a passable shot, for a juve.
'Okay,' said Dwice. 'I'm'a have a talk with Vints when he's stopped being sick about the dog. See what I can do. No promises, mind.'
It was, of course, as good as a promise. The Jackers were that short-handed. Steez knew it, and his callow face cracked a broad grin. He was about to speak when a shadow fell across the two juves.
They turned to see what was what, and found themselves facing the iron-eyed gaze of a grizzled ganger. He was Orlock, judging by his plates and heavy leathers, and had a hefty grenade launcher slung across his back.
'Hey, juve,' said the ganger. 'You in the colours.'
'Who, me?' said Dwice.
'Yeah, you. You one of them Hi-Viz Jackers?'
'Reckon I am,' said Dwice, straightening his spine and trying to look tough. 'Who wants to know?'
The ganger chuckled grimly. 'Ah, you'll find out soon enough. The bosses sent me from uphive. Now where in this throneforsaken hole am I gonna find Vintsen Courraine?'
Steez had taken to hanging around with Dwice Necrofago, whose Jacker status qualified him as something of hero. Over the cycles, Dwice had come to enjoy the cheap acclaim, seeing Steez as the loyal ganger to the gang boss he someday hoped to be. This shift, the two lads were hanging round an old dead water still, taking turns to pop holes in its side with Dwice's autopistol.
'So then what happened, huh?' asked Steez.
'After we stuck the Jacker claimstick at the corpse farm? Well, big Vints only goes and takes his new dog for a walk, leaving the rest of us to stake out the claim. That's when the Cawdor boys turned up...'
'Aw frag!' gaped Steez. 'You guys were up against it, huh?'
'Well, yeah,' said Dwice. 'There must've been like twenty of them Crimson Carrion brothers, and only like five of us. Suddenly they're coming out of the walls, firing off 'splosives and roasting us with flamers and all that.'
'Ow, like a trip to the sinks!'
'Bet your boots. Anyway, tough ol' Akilles is down, Ijax takes one in the eye, Zammy and Onzo get taken out - even though Onzo slugged it out tough with one of their juves when his auto-p ran dry. So there's just me in the end, and like twenty of them, and I'm all there is between them and the claimstick.'
Steez was picturing the scene, speechless with awe.
'I hung in there good. They tried to burn me, they tried to take me out, but I ducked and weaved and got a few shots off. I did the Iron House proud, but in the end,what ya gonna do? Their boss man clobbered me, left me with this to remember the shift.'
Dwice held up his mangled hand, and Steez gazed upon it as if it were a relic of Terra itself. The wound was healing now, and it hadn't affected his aim, but it he'd lost a lot of dexterity when it came to wielding his knife.
'So... so that's when you guys all came back here, all busted up, and...'
'Yeah, yeah, the Crimson Carrion boys took the corpse pit, but Vints had heard there was a settlement what none of the Hacked Knee gangs had laid a claim on yet. Thing was, there was five of us all bashed up after the last scrap - even with that weirdo slopper Vints hired-'
'Who, Davvo?'
Dwice didn't dig the interruption. 'Yeah yeah, Davvo. Anyways, the slop got blindside Ijax back in the mix, but it was only him and Ivan who went with Vints to claim the settlement. Well, and Vint's dog as well...'
Here, Dwice shuddered at the memory of the beast.
'... and wouldn't you know it? There's only another bunch of Cawdors looking to take the turf as their own. The Hooded Men, they called themselves, not heard much about them round the zone. But it was the same deal as before, so Ijax says. Trash-chewing redemptionst nutters swarming from all corners, popping off flamers and blunderbuss shots... Sounds like we didn't stand much of a chance.'
'And we saw 'em coming back, right? The boss man all cut up about his dog getting killed?'
Dwice made a show of matching Steez's saddened look. He didn't mean it, of course - Krakjaw's demise had come as a relief to the paranoid Jacker juve.
'Wow,' continued Steez, 'it sure is a tough life running with the gangs. So this leaves the Jackers pretty short-handed, right?'
Dwice had seen this coming. Steez was clearly bored stiff with his dead-end life in this dead-end town. It didn't take a wych to clock he was angling for memebership of Vints's crew.
'So you want in on the Jackers, right? Hell, Steez, you seen us take all kinds of knocks since we been holed up here, and you still want in?'
'I do, I do. Anything's gotta be better than rotting away in this hole. I'd rather take a hundred bullets for the House. And I'm a decent shot, right? Getting better, anyways.'
Dwice nodded slowly. Steez was indeed a passable shot, for a juve.
'Okay,' said Dwice. 'I'm'a have a talk with Vints when he's stopped being sick about the dog. See what I can do. No promises, mind.'
It was, of course, as good as a promise. The Jackers were that short-handed. Steez knew it, and his callow face cracked a broad grin. He was about to speak when a shadow fell across the two juves.
They turned to see what was what, and found themselves facing the iron-eyed gaze of a grizzled ganger. He was Orlock, judging by his plates and heavy leathers, and had a hefty grenade launcher slung across his back.
'Hey, juve,' said the ganger. 'You in the colours.'
'Who, me?' said Dwice.
'Yeah, you. You one of them Hi-Viz Jackers?'
'Reckon I am,' said Dwice, straightening his spine and trying to look tough. 'Who wants to know?'
The ganger chuckled grimly. 'Ah, you'll find out soon enough. The bosses sent me from uphive. Now where in this throneforsaken hole am I gonna find Vintsen Courraine?'