"Aw man..."
"Jeez."
It was all I could say. I'd heard that The Bash had been trashed, but damn, trashed didn't even begin to describe the damage. Destroyed, now that word rang true. I stepped through the door and moved to the side to allow some of the cleanup crew through.
The center of the pub was destroyed. The rest was in as good of condition as it had ever been. Meaning, not very good, but still perfectly usable. The signature mark of a thermal det was plain. A neat circular ball of
nothing was present where a bartender and bar should have been. On the north and south sides some of the bar itself was still present, neatly severed by the grenade's trademarked explosion. I ran a hand over the smooth wound, its gentle curvature and glass-like surface a deadly reminder of what would happened if I was ever caught inside the blast radius of a thermal.
Once outside I scanned the area for any regulars. There were a few; most of them were inebriated to the point of uselessness. Dicks were everywhere, as expected, interviewing and in some cases helping those in need of help. I was about to ask around for a witness, someone not already tired of being grilled, but my ears caught on to someone dishing out the info I wanted. A few dicks were giving him the standard boilerplate, and he was talking loudly enough that I could hear just fine.
"... maniac he wus. Shot Beel in the arm on his way in, capp'd the bouncer, and then started tossing down drinks for aboot an haur. I wus watch'n him close after he shot Beel. He walks on up to tha bar, see, and starts shooting up Mich! Jus' whips oot his blaster and lets'r roll. Mich, he tries to defend himself, and the fooker pops a det and dives for de door. I don'remember much after thet, buuuut..."
A dick pulled out a piece of flimsy and waved it.
"Yeh, that's him alright. You get him, eh? Get him good. Fooker thrash'd me bar. Me favorite bar..."
I wasn't being paid to hunt down nutcases armed with dets. This case, this case the dicks could handle by themselves. They had the manpower and firepower. The Department would keep an eye out, but we weren't about to waste perfectly good men on a nutcase.
Astral Astoria Moderator.