June 27, 2058

South Plains Security Consulting Offices

Regina, Algonkian-Manitou Council

~~~

It had been a slow week for South Plains Security Consulting. Leon had made the executive decision to lie low, and had only left the South Plains compound for two brief furloughs. Leon was waiting to see if David Longmiles would march some drek-head beat cops onto his property and try to arrest him, but as the days passed, he became convinced Longmiles had nothing on him. The plan had probably worked. Longmiles would not be able to convince a jury that the 6 foot 4 man on camera was Leon. Ostensibly, he could just send thirty goons to kill him for "resisting arrest", but Longmiles wasn't actually a corrupt cop. He wanted Leon caught red-handed, but tried and convicted the legal way, with no room for error. Given how private police tended to solve problems via framejobs and murder, Longmiles and his insistence on proper justice was almost admirable......

In the meantime, Leon was exploiting the secret of his shadowrunning success: Improving himself for the next job. Instead of staying idle, and getting himself hooked on alcohol, drugs, or Simsense virtual reality brain chips like other runners after a big score, Leon had been bettering himself. He worked out for at least 2 hours a day, ran through the Matrix to see if any soft datastores had some sellable data to mine, meticulously cleaned and test-fired the various weapons in his armory, and kept an ear out for the local and national news. Brandon and Sylvia followed these routines as well, to varying degrees. Many shadowrunners did not, and it frequently got them killed, when they spent all their money from big jobs on addictions, and couldn't take on big runs properly, after their vices caused them to physically deteriorate.

Right now Leon was upside down, his legs hooked around a chin-up bar. He was doing upside-down situps, and could reel off over a hundred before needing to fall to the large safety cushion below. Sylvia was also working out, pedalling an exercise bike silently while watching a trideo (an advanced form of 3-dimensional television) alongside Brandon. Brandon had finished his workout earlier, and was listening with interest to the local news.

"......A Manitou tribe spokesman decried the striking down of the bill, maintaining the common Manitou stance that Civil Chief Robert Bear and War Chief Carl Hillborn have no respect for the elvish race. A spokesman from the Saskatoon legislature denied the claims, and simply stated their position that a breakaway Manitou Council would lead to heightened tensions within the Native American Nations....."

"Stupid elves......" said Sylvia, shaking her head in disapproval.

Brandon raised an eyebrow at this.

"Why aren't you supporting the Manitou branching off anyways?"

"It'll end up just as badly as the Tir Tairngire. Except maybe even worse, because the Manitou hate technology and want the northern part of the Council lands, where there's snow 8 months a year. Sure, being yelled at cause of my ears is stupid, but its even stupider to live in 30 below zero as a peon with nothing fun to do."

"Your ears look just fine to me babe, and so does the rest of you!" Leon yelled while upside-down.

"SHUT UUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPP!!!"

Sylvia was screaming that half-jokingly, but Leon's lovey-dovey act towards her tended to wear pretty thin. Sylvia had been cooped up with Leon for a week, and Leon had blown about two dozen loads inside her, all the while hugging her mediocre body and telling her how much he loved her. Leon always got really clingy after missions where Sylvia took the slightest bit of damage, and it was very annoying sometimes. She needed a vacation soon, but they all had to wait on that, until they were sure Long Arms cops weren't lurking in the bushes with an arrest warrant.

The news was giving Sylvia bigger things to worry about than her love life, however. The elvish Manitou tribe had achieved full recognition a while back, getting their name in as part of what was formerly just the Algonkian Council. However, the Manitou were still not satisfied. There was a noticeable undercurrent of anti-elf discrimination in the Council, and some hard-liners in the Manitou hated the general expansion of technology in the world, wanting to return "back to the land", like how AmerIndians lived in North America before the Anglos came. These issues had been leading the Manitou to make a push for independence, and they wanted the northern tip of the council lands for a full-fledged Manitou Council, separate from the Algonkian lands.

Of course, the Algonkians didn't want this, because the Native American Nations coalition in general really couldn't afford too many fractures. It was important for the NAN to be somewhat united, and show a strong front. Otherwise, the white American politicians would take back all the land they got form the Treaty of Denver in 2018. Sylvia knew that the three Chiefs running the Council wanted this Manitou threat stamped out bad. Leon had dragged them along for several runs against the Manitou to achieve this. In exchange, the Chiefs gave Leon some political protection, and leeway to conduct his shadowy business, so long as it wasn't against the Council.

Despite being an elf, Sylvia also wanted the Manitou to lose. Sylvia realized the truth that many metahumans and pro-metahuman supporters did not get: Metahuman races had just as many problems with human nature as humans did. There were arrogant, easily corruptible elves just as there were arrogant, easily corruptible humans, and putting those elves in a position of power could be disastrous. Tir Tairngire, an elvish nation controlling mostly the former US state of Oregon, was still the premier example of that. Their monarchy-type political system shoved many elves to the bottom of the social ladder, sometimes treating the lower-class peons worse than they would've been treated by even the most racist humans. Humans themselves, along with many dwarves, orks, and trolls, were regarded by many high-breeds as filth who weren't even worthy of breathing Tir Tairngire's air. The Manitou tribe could have noble ideas, but it would be a cold, unpleasant place to live, and someday a politician with Tir Tairngire-esque social ideals could very well crop up, and make things even worse.....

Everyone's reverie and routine was broken by the sudden ring of Leon's vid-phone. Leon gracelessly dismounted from his chin-up bar, and did a spectacularly poor belly-flop landing on his safety cushion, before shrugging it off and racing to the phone......