When I woke up, I felt groggy until I suddenly remembered I had places to be. Scrambling, I looked at my chrono before slumping back down in relief. I still had two hours before I needed to be there. But the fragment had knocked me out for an hour, one of the longest yet, only surpassed by the technician fragment.
I poked around my new knowledge and was pleased with what I found. As I had hoped and as the name change confirmed, it was far more focused on individual combat rather than teams and squad tactics, something I was unlikely to do much of.
Not that I'd trust any of them to have my back anyway.
It further enhanced my gunmanship and combat senses, which was a welcome bonus, tying all my combat skills together into a harmonious whole. No longer would I have conflicting reflexes.
Finished inspecting my new fragment, I moved over to my new snub. Pulling out a bioluminescent bulb, otherwise known as a glowing mushroom, I focused on the new gun. I wanted to get it checked as I planned to take it rather than my lasgun, which I'd learned was far more than a simple laspistol. It was, in fact, a lost relic from the Golden Age of Humanity, meaning it was significantly better than many of the guns I could get today. Compared to the mass-produced laspistols today, mine was heads and shoulders better.
I found a damaged one, which I took apart, repaired, and tried it out. My relic was more accurate, had more stopping power, and more ammo; it was just better.
Breaking the slugger apart, I started to inspect the components, cleaning them as I went. Several parts needed replacing, with hairline cracks running through them. My past self had planned ahead, and I had a lot of scrap parts to replace the damaged ones, leaving me with a well-cleaned and maintained gun. Dry firing worked like a dream, but I would need to do some test shots with it before I was fully happy.
But it would do, I was out of time.
Slotting the snub into the improvised harness, I set off.
The various gang HQs were easy to spot, usually marked with massive symbols indicating their locations. You only needed to be in the area for a short time before you had a general idea of where it was. For the Court, it was what used to be a forge complex until it collapsed. They set up there for two reasons: they were very close to the tunnels to the lower hive and it was also one of a few places to get clean water.
Well, I say 'clean', not actively harmful, would be accurate, as it tasted like ass.
The other gangs were very similar, with the nearest gang controlling the largest bridge across the Gulf also had their HQ near a water source. Although, from what I had learned, it was not nearly as clean as the Courts. In fact, the only gang that did not follow this trend were the Brethren of Bones, who controlled the gladiator arena.
Even if you were not a local, it was normally pretty obvious; the increased number of gangers and the increase in quality of equipment were a pretty good indicator. One thing new I did notice, courtesy of my new knowledge, was the sentries and what were now clearly guard posts, where before they just looked like gangers hanging out.
The lookouts were all in good places too, with a clear line of sight and some cover. I wondered if it was all gangs like this and I had just never noticed it before, or if the Court was an outlier. Reaching the door, I told the guards I was expected.
He was having none of it, and I was just about to turn away when a shout came from further within the building. "Io, you Aleric?" When I nodded, he said, "Good. Come with me, Mr Frix is expecting you." Mr. who? Confused, I followed him inside. I was surprised by how clean it was in there and also the state of disrepair everything was in. There were clear signs of things getting patched together in an effort to repair it, but they were far from doing a good job.
Another thing was the chokepoints. To the casual observer, it looked like a pretty ordinary room, but I could pick up the signs that it was anything but.
When I entered the room and saw Lanto, I realised who Mr Frix must mean. Lanto was talking to a group around him. These were clearly the cream of the crop, that or mercenaries. They were all the best war gear I had seen in the Undercity so far. All of them had excellent armour on, even helmets with well-maintained guns. Several carried las rifles, which were rare down here, particularly the Krieg variant, which was much stronger than most others.
One even had a plasma pistol. But they all had some level of bionics, good quality stuff too. At least to my untrained eye they were anyway. I had gained some knowledge of them, but in a very limited way and mostly on some of the principles they worked on.
"Good, you're here." he said as I neared the group. "I noticed your shots, five kill shots at 25 metres. Impressive. How are you with other weapons?"
"Better." I said, telling the truth. Much of the knowledge I had gained was more focused on rifles than pistols, even if I had not yet had the chance to practice with them.
"Good." he muttered, nodding in thought. He muttered it a few more times before seemingly coming to a decision. "Follow me." He led me to a well-guarded, heavily fortified door. Stepping inside, it was clearly an armoury of some sort with various weapons littered around. "Pick one for range."
Slightly confused, I began to look through the guns. Many wouldn't be suitable for longer range shots like the more slick autoguns, which could unleash a blistering number of shots but weren't very accurate at range. I also avoided the las rifles, which might be good, great or barely enough power to strip paint off a wall. Without knowing what was under the hood, I had no idea how effective they would be.
If it was calibrated incorrectly or of an inferior construction, it could reduce the power by over 50%.
I finally settled on a gun that should not be a thing in the future. It was a bolt-action rifle very much like a World War 2 Springfield, but far more modern looking, made out of plasteel and equipped with an analogue scope. But it was a beautiful weapon that looked incredibly well-maintained and when I did some dryfiring, was incredibly smooth, far better than many of the other more modern weapons.
Taking it to Lando, he grunted before leading me to what could only be a gun range. Nothing fancy, just an empty corridor with targets at the end. "Shoot the far target."
Nodding, I set myself up, making sure I was stable. Guesstimating the distance, I'd say it was 100 metres out, which should be more than doable. I couldn't think of many times I would need to shoot beyond that range in the undercity with its mostly claustrophobic corridors and streets.
Syncing my breathing, I sighted onto the target and gently squeezed the trigger, feeling the gun recoil far more than my pistol did, thumping back into my shoulder. Grimacing slightly, I knew if I shot many more of these, I was guaranteed a bruise, though that was a small price to pay for getting to shoot it.
My shot had gone wide by about a foot. Resighting the scope, no fancy electronic one for me, I shot once more, hitting my mark. Firing a few more, I got a good spread, only an inch or so apart, or at least from what I could tell through the rifle's scope.
Good shooting for someone who's never shot this gun before.