Introducing Aodhan

 

 It had been a long day of riding with Patchcable – Joseph von Burg, technically, but nobody called him that.  A grumpy dwarf rigger who supported himself as a mobile street doc.  He took care of those who couldn't afford DocWagon or CrashCart – especially those who couldn't get themselves to a street doc.  "Supported” was a loose term.  The guy was living out of his van.  Aodhan often drove the dwarf crazy by moving some pile of laundry, medical supplies not put away, or a drone project he hadn’t completed the night before.

 "Stop touching my things!" Patch would yell every time. 

 Still, the guy had hired Aodhan when no one else would.  When the gruff mudbeard had spotted him pushing his Growler with an empty tank, the dwarf had stopped to see if he needed help.  Then, when Patchcable spotted the Renraku Tsurugi slung over Aodhan’s shoulder, he offered him a job on the spot.  No questions asked.  Securing Patchcable’s PAN and watching his back while he drove through the streets of Seattle – that was the job. 

 Patchcable’s patients didn't always pay.  Which was a problem because that was the basis of their agreement – a percentage of whatever came in.  Still, it had kept Aodhan fed and, so far, enough Nuyen to make rent at his apartment in the north side of Puyallup.  The crotchety little dwarf would even condescend to pick him up when there wasn't enough money to fuel the bike. 

 Today's end-of-the-day meal was a platter of Tacos from Rico's Taco Haven Food Truck.  They were good.  Seasoned well enough that they couldn’t taste the soy.

 "Fraggin' gadaithe.  Can't they see we're tryin' to have our dinner over here?" Aodhan said to Patchcable as he turned to the sound of breaking glass behind them.  He put his AR goggles back in place over his eyes.  As his eyes refocused on the miniature screens within, he issued a mental command to scan for Matrix icons.  The thermal images of five bodies outlined easily against the cooler backdrop of the house they were breaking into, but no active PAN icons broadcasting. 

 “Definitely up to no good,” Aodhan thought to himself as he took another bite out of his taco. 

 Then a woman's scream and a baby's cry. 

 "Oh for Frag's sake!" 

 With that he put his taco down.  He wasn't sure how long it would take the Guards – no, what did the locals call them?  Knight Errant – but he knew it would take several minutes to get here.  Minutes that could mean the difference between life and death for whoever was in that house.  Especially that baby.

Patchcable gave him permission with a small nod.  

 With that the wiry elf slipped out of the passenger seat of the Doc/Rigger's van.  He left the door open, not wanting to make a noise.  He moved across the street and entered the yard.  As he did so a pair of tiny spy drones whispered by his shoulder and on into the house through the broken pane of glass the intruders used to open the front door.

 Aodhan followed smoothly up to the door and peered through the broken pane of glass.  Three thermal outlines.  One straight ahead of him.  Maybe the leader?  It was moving hectically, turning around, arms pointing, and lots of screaming.  Two to his left. One of them was obviously trashing the place, while the other was working a console of some kind.  “Where did the other two get off to?”  he thought to himself.

 "'Patch, I’ve got one of my neurostun grenades ready if we need to go in."

 "Yo! Is this one of your drones?" a voice called out from inside.

 Before Aodhan could register that one of the Doc's drones had been spotted, the inside of the house was lit up by a flash-pack detonation.

 “For feck’s sake Doc!”, Aodhan cried out as he instinctively turned his head away and blinked several times.  Fortunately, his goggles’ compensation dampened the effects, but not before those pretty little blue dots appeared filling up part of his vision.  Still, he couldn't hesitate.  He popped the pin on his neurostun grenade, threw open the door, and landed the grenade at the leader's feet in the center of the house.  He didn’t wait to admire his work.  He yanked the door shut without slamming it home.  A second, but very much more subdued, flash of light popped from within the house, followed by an intense hissing.  Loud coughing and curses in Sperethiel filled the house. 

 Patchcable connected the visual feed from his remaining drone to Aodhan's PAN.  The gas had disabled the leader in the center of the room.  The two thugs to his left were stumbling toward a door leading away.  Probably outside.  Where was the last intruder?  And the ones screaming and crying? 

 Aodhan shifted the image feed to the upper left of his AR goggles and initiated another Matrix scan. Five PAN icons were exiting the house. 

 “Frag, frag, frag.  What have you done, you keeb!?” 

 He whipped out his respirator, removed his flat cap, and dropped it smoothly over his face.  He counted to five and entered the house. 

 There, where Aodhan thought the leader had been, lay a woman.  Sprawled out and not moving.  He rushed over, dropping to his knees beside her.  He tugged his shock gloves off and grabbed a wrinkled wrist, searching for a pulse.  Her skin was pale.  Ashen.  Were her lips turning purple?  He leaned over, bringing the respirator’s faceplate close to her mouth. 

He couldn’t tell. 

His hand went still on her wrist. 

He wasn’t the doctor.

 "Well done, you fraggin' eejit.  You took out someone's Mamó."  The blood drained from his face as he said it aloud to no one.  He keyed his commlink.  "Better get in here, Doc."

Author's Post script:  Yes, i'm still around.  Life has just kept me really busy.  I doubt any of my original readers are even still around, but who knows.  I've kept writing short stories, but not as much as'd like.  This is a new character, and maybe a new 'series',  I guess i'll see.  Whoever stumbles across this one, i hope you like it.