Bob Biter

(Author's note: As I've said, this will be an ongoing series of entries forming a story. My computer time is unpredictable, so some posts will be shorter than others, but there will always be more coming.)

The briefing room was brightly lit and the tensions could be cut with a dull knife. Around the large table sat 6 individuals all eyeing their neighbours, some furtively, some unabashedly. Leaning against the vid board was Lieutenant Bradley Cotton a tall, mustashioed man of athletic build. He exuded authority, as a second-in-command should, but seemed unwilling to use it, as he let the rookies mingle as they would.

3 men and 3 women sat facing each other. By some coincidence, each gender occupied one side of the table, as if a battle of the sexes was about to take place. Everyone knew better than to call attention to that though, as both men and women were very much equal in the eyes of the police department in Night City. Indeed, qualified staff was so sorely needed that stereotypes were virtually nonexistent, except perhaps in the mind of Lewis Meyner, one of the rookies waiting for the captain and the only one of them who had requested this precinct. He eyed the women across from him quizzically, as if gauging their use in such a ruff neighbourhood. After all, a 6-foot ex-merc that had seen actual battle was sure to press his will more readily than any green recruit could, especially if she stood a mere 5'6'', with curly red locks hanging freely to her shoulders.

Turning her eyes away from the flickering neon light that had occupied her attention for a moment, Victoria Hammond caught the bemused smirk on Officer Meyner's face. She sighed internally. It had started already. She could foresee exactly how the exchange would go, as she had had to sit through it countless times before at the academy... Looking at her name tag, Meyner leaned forward.

- "So tell me, Officer... Hammond. Are you excited to actually be in a real combat zone, with targets that actually shoot back?

Successfully suppressing a groan, Hammond imitated her most convincing teeny-bopper voice and demeanor, hair flicks and all, to answer this most pertinent question.

- "Oh my god yes! Isn't this, like, the coolest? I mean, look! My gun matches my uniform, my uniform matches my shoes, and my shoes match the retractable billy club that's gonna smack that, like, totally retarded smile right off of your good ol' boy face in, like, two seconds, sweetie!"

A round of ill-stifled laughs erupted all around the table, and even Lt. Cotton looked up and shook his head in amusement. Meyner sat back, his smirk gone. Although taken aback by the retort, he was glad she could actually stand up for herself. At least there was one that had less chance to buckle under the pressure. Glancing to his left at the two other men, He kept up his facade.

- "Well! Looks like we won't have to babysit one of them after all, eh boys?"

- "For the love of god, man! Do you have to be the basic, run-of-the-mill, token mysoginist here or what?"

Officer Curtis Boddin wanted to cut the conversation short, as he didn't want to risk having the Captain walk in on an argument between his newest arrivals. Such a thing wouldn't start things off on the right foot and he had lived through enough shit during his previous years in #11 Precinct that he had lost all taste for such shenanigans.

Seeing that he wasn't relaxing the mood at all, Meyner simply brushed off Boddin's comments with an exasperated wave and looked at the clock. Throughout the exchange, Lt. Cotton said nothing, but his sharp eyes collected a fair amount of data and clues. He hadn't yet heard a peep from the others, but the dynamics of the group were already being formed. Glancing at his watch, he noticed that Captain Esteban was running a tad late, which was most unusual of him.

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A plan is just a list of things that don't happen.