Post by nocreditneo on Feb 16, 2022 1:09:41 GMT
Carrefour Station was built on the western edge of the Golden Expanse, in the uppermost corner of the Unmar Expanse galactic sector. It began as a small supply outpost in the galactic west before the First Ancerious War, before serious colonization and exploration efforts had begun on that side of the Golden Expanse. It was a small backwater in relation to the major locations and events that unraveled throughout the decades of colonial influence. Before the advent of the Second Ancerious War, many investors came to build up the region of space, using Carrefour Station as a stepping stone to their ambitions. Their intent was to build up another corridor to the Golden Expanse for Ancerium. Upon the advent and culmination of the Second Ancerious War, many of these powers could not support their ventures or had simply ceased to exist. This left many unfinished projects in the northeast sector of the Unmar Expanse; destitute trading and mining stations as well as colonized worlds.
Upon the rise of the galactic unaligned and native powers, this region of Ancerious became a massive quagmire of middling nation-states, private corporations, and regional syndicates vying for control of the sector and the avenue into the Golden Expanse. Carrefour Station serves as the focal point of this struggle; a massive spaceport where people are born, live, and die. It serves as a neutral zone for the multitude of local powers to interact and a stopping point for all major imports and exports to the Unmar Expanse.
Carrefour and its surrounding space are seldom acknowledged by the larger galaxy; it is rife with middling powers and turf wars that make it hard to develop into an Ancerium port when they could be developed elsewhere. On the other side of that coin, it makes the northern Unmar Expanse a place away from the focus of larger galactic entities and colonial policing.
The region and local powers being remarkably poor makes raising a proper navy and task force a remarkable feat; only the richest entities are able to raise even small battlegroups. The nature of the conflict gives rise to the use of private, deniable, decentralized contractors to run cargo and complete tasks.
Even so, a crew-for-hire running questionable cargo is sadly the most honest line of work this side of the Golden Expanse.
---
The Brass Knob was not a pretty ship, nor a remarkable one. Some galactic navies hosted complex vessels that broke ten kilometers in length as their standard ‘ship-of-the-line’. In the northern-Unmar, the Brass Knob was a freighter that was on the larger side of ships; coming in just shy of six-hundred meters in length. Most of its size was split between its fore cargo compartments and the aft engines and Alcubierre-FTL drive. Its hull and armor were an amalgamation of barely-matched greys and retrofitted armor for space debris and the occasional slug. Along the top and bottom of the bottom were respectively a pair and singular mass drivers. These weapons were diminutive and not built for war, but self-defense and luck. On the upper decks of the ship was the crew space and observation decks; a sizeable area on its own with connections to the cargo and shuttle bays, as well as the comprehensive crawlspaces that wrapped throughout the ship’s propulsion systems.
The Brass Knob was one-day’s travel out from Carrefour Station, cruising at sublight speeds to the FTL tethering station at the edge of the system. Its unorthodox crew had purchased her not too long ago, and ensured she was at least space-worthy before quickly accepting their first job. A small-time company had contracted them to carry some cargo to a minor nobleman in a neighboring system, offering enough pay to cover then next couple months of loan installments on their vessel.
Their first bill was coming pretty soon.
The cargo they were charged with was a 5x5 crate constructed of quantum-lattice and vacuum-sealed. The crate itself was remarkably expensive, but according to the client its contents were invaluable and had potential to attract unwanted attention. On the manifest, its contents were unlisted and the crate was not to be opened by anyone but the receiver. Aside from this detail, it was a simple job with decent pay.
---
The Minevan, Wizna Hix, sat in the small mess deck of the Brass Knob, the white lighting not doing too well to compliment her pale features. She slouched over onto the small table, face resting on her crossed arms and eyes fixated on her tablet. The small screen in front of her displayed the ship’s diagnostics and navigation details, which she monitored to ensure they were on-schedule to their destination as she didn’t entirely trust the complimentary last-generation AI that came with the ship.
Wizna was patiently waiting for some cooking, enjoying the fresh smell in the air over the cheap joints that riddled the poor station they hailed from.
A hiss of steam announced his approach as the pnuematics in his ankles unconsciously sprung to life, expanding and contracting erratically, rapidly altering his height until he was little over 4'10” when he sat down. The gyroscopes in his arms kept them stable through the event., not a drop of water spilled. Just one of his ticks.
His artificial eye scanned Wizna up and down quickly, Ja mit so much herr ist vasted. She would do much bettah mit eyes zat are able to zoom unt zee into the gamma Heinrich leaned into his free hand, muttering “Quiet* under his breath. He adjusted himself, sitting straight as a board and dropped a carbonation tablet into his glass, The fizz punctuating the awkward approach
“Ja mit hallo Miz Vizna,”
He glanced down at her tablet and pointed
“Anyzink else wrong with zis skrapbuket?”
Her heels clacked on the smooth floors, her datashawl floating behind her, and she offered Wizna and Heinrich a smile. Despite her smooth, faintly luminous white skin and perfect teeth, Embla's smiles were always disconcerting because only the lower half of her face was visible. She always wore a half-helmet blazoned with the heraldic golden cross of Malham, her former employer. Along with this she wore a black bodysuit which left little to the imagination and, for no apparent reason, a gold brassiere.
She set the food down gracefully, a mango curry with a variety of sides, fried vegetable pockets, breads and more, then took a seat opposite Wizna.
"Bonne appetit!" she said cheerfully in Katasian, as was the fashion among the aspiring middle classes in Ingen, and waited politely for Wizna and Heinrich to eat first.
Wizna watched his movements before maintaining eye contact with him upon his approach. She straightened up in her seat once he took his. "Doctor," She acknowledged him, trying to decipher his thick accent. Admittedly this was something she always had trouble with, which was the source of her amusement. "It'll get us from point A to point B," She gave a half-answer, offering a smirk in condolence.
The conversation was interrupted by Embla 118 bringing out the dishes; Wizna spoke her gratitude, not wasting any time to tear into the meal before her. She was quick to notice, however, that they were missing one of their merry crew. Between bites, Wizna let out, "Seen Laiken? We oughta talk business..."
"I do not know where Laiken currently is," she said, her datashawl humming as she attempted to persuade the rickety shipborne computers to figure out Laiken's location, "but yes we should wait for her before we talk business."
Wizna's tablet screen was overwhelmed by a tacky, over-sized green check-mark, showing her that they were still space-worthy for now. They hadn't much opportunity to take the vessel to test aside from the most rudimentary diagnostics and inspections. This simple gig, Wizna mused, was probably going to serve as such. She eyed both of her artificial(or mostly) companions, and subconsciously she could not help but feel like she was the odd one out. Their presentation and enjoyment of the meal did wonders to put her mind at ease in this regard.
"I know we joke, but this ship ain't too bad," Wizna remarked, pausing as she realized she wasn't denigrating it as was the usual thus far, "Well, maybe for the price and interest, it is..."
“Whoever owned this ship last let the access crawl spaces turn into sandpits... Is that curry I smell?”
The four armed humans shuffled past Embla to get to the sink and wash off her face with one set of hands and get some ice bags out of the freezer with another for her busted up forehead. Not in small part from hitting a pipe on accident on a little escapade to get her mind off that last bout of boxing, and lastly from getting clocked in the nose last night.
“Nice to see y’all again, Embla, Wizna… Heinrich, do you have some painkillers? Forehead’s killing me.”
Meanwhile she sat down at the open seat in the ships mess and used one set of arms to keep the ice pack afixed to her head and another to dish up some curry that Embla prepared earlier.
For a moment, Wizna had wished Laiken had at least had a change of clothes before trudging through their eating area with all manner of foul machine materials, but definitely understood the rush to eat as she was rudely funneling food down her gullet. "Yeah, girl, have a seat. It's absolutely fucking delicious," she made sure to show appreciation to the cook.
"I do remember the ad saying 'as is'," Wizna joked, "If anything was gonna go terribly wrong it would've been in the first hour. If you can keep running with all that work done to your head we can keep the power on." She had finished off her plate in record time, not wasting time to also flash a friendly grin baring her cuspids.
Heinrich pressed a small compression release in his right thumb, with a small hiss the locking mechanism was released. nein add mit ein cranium plate onstead. As Koning made himself helpful the thumb shot across the room, rolling somewhere out of sight.
If Heinrich noticed he didnt let on, pocketing the air where his thumb should have been. A small syringe with a biologically based super glue extended from the thumb socket, he gestured for Laiken to lean in, deftly closing the gash across her right eye. The cellular matrix quickly meshed with Laikens own, making the wound invisible while a mild anaesthetic brought relief to the whole area.
"Now before I Medikate you I am required to ask, how much pain? Eins to Zehn?
atriangle (Kepler) — 12/26/2020
Laiken leaned into Heinrichs seat so he could more easily do his work. While she did not quite fully understand what the man was saying under his thick accent half the time, paying him enough across the stations fighting ring and atleast being on the same contract now brought in not a small amount of trust. Well enough to feel no concern for any medical need that arises. She replied back quickly to his question while moving the icepack away and halting her consumption of food.
“Around a two, an inconvenience at worst, just a migraine. Sure beats an eye poke.”
Once Heinrich finished up, Laiken answered back to Wizna despite being rather dusty.
“It’s not the big issues with the ship that we know of, like a broken engine or stuck doors that give me some worry, but the ones that will slowly build up over time that we can’t identify right away. Now, we don’t exactly have the means to worry about that now, but later one it’s something we will need to do.. What else is on the order for business tonight besides for delicious curry?”
She looked down at her dusty rubbery suit that was making a small coating on her seat.
“Oh… I’ll go change and clean up once we finish here.”
He finished, releasing his gentle, stabilizing grasp on laikens head. A hand quickly reached into his pocket, withdrawing air, mocking a return of the digit. It was when he went to lock the prosthetic that he noticed it was no longer with him,
" heh speakink uhf digits"
A frantic, memorised action followed delving into every interior and exterior pocket his over complicated jacket possessed before he awkwardly stood in place,
"Heh ekcuze me... please, I must be making of ein new thumb"
A heel slap and curt turn and Heinrich beelined for the hallway, with the typical urgency he perpetually carried about him.
"We must eat well whilst supplies are fresh. We cannot repair the ship on empty stomachs!" she announced cheerfully.
Should I get it and go after him? Nah, he's got his own thing...
She shook her head, completing the thought before Embla brought even more out to her surprise. Wizna's grin had thanked Embla on its own; it had been a long while since she had enjoyed a meal free of charge.
Though, she supposed they had all paid for it when buying the ship and supplies.
"Speaking of," Wizna said, "We can't do it much on empty wallets either. We should be getting close to the tethering station pretty soon and make our jump. Let me... find... the info..."
Wizna was searching through information on her small tablet; an overwhelming endeavor as she had kept many processes open and running to sift through.
"All of that extra info on the gig? Geez thats a lot...."
She gets one last bite of the bottom of the curry bowl before Embla whisked it away to be cleaned in the ship mess. The cheesecake was a surprise that brought a small smile to her face, not quite expecting much more than canned and instant foods for this job.
"So on the topic of business, will Heinreich be back soon..."
The four armed cyborg motioned over to the hallway with her upper set of arms while resting the lowers on her dusty and grimy chin.
"God I need to clean up.... Right, I reckon we will be able to get the job done without any major issues from the ship if its as simple as just flying to the next station and handing it off for payment.... I have a gut feeling that crate might be bringing trouble."
“Ja, mit sorry for zee interruption. Koning hast reminded me of zese zings stored in tzee vents, zee!”
He held his right hand out, wiggling his new thumb, which was much longer and of a different skin tone than the last. He quickly took his seat, and plopped another carbonation tablet into his water. It quickly fizzed over , though he sipped it down before it became a bother.
Still, for them, their task was simple. The Brass Knob was to journey to the world of Kortende in the Hollaten system, and then deliver their cargo to a noble by the name of Baron Hahnel.
Between here and there, the fare at the ancerium tethering stations was cheap enough for them to afford. As the crew of the Brass Knob chatted away, Wizna continued to fight through her disorganized droves of information to ensure they remained on course. The onboard AI warmed the FTL drives up as they neared the station at the system's edge, and simultaneously worked to deconflict their departure time with the plethora of small craft that were continuously coming and going from the system. Wizna had her reservations about AI taking a majority of the workload and her surrendering a great deal of control, but without a comprehensive crew it would be too much for her to handle alone. Plus, it would have been a massive drag on her psyche to expend a great deal of mental energy on a tedious task such as fighting for scheduled slots amongst thousands of small craft itineraries.
The shipboard computer sorted it out in moments; they were billed for the requisite amount of ancerium brought to them from small craft and were confirmed to make their jump from Carrefour to Hollaten.
The lights in their cafe seemed to flicker as the Brass Knob made the rough transition from sublight travel, to the warp drive competing with all other systems to consume energy and slingshot their vessel in a bubble through the void.
Wizna looked up at the cieling in bemusement, giving a small smile to no one in particular. She mused that it was only fitting that a lifelong spacer such as herself would meet her fate in a tin can tumbling through the void. She cleared her throat, returning her attention to her crewmates.
She had gone through a quite a bit of the information prior to their jump, but it was the cut-and-dry simple task. She had plenty of reservations about the job and destination that she had shelved for the payment offered.
"Where we are going seems awful competitive," Wizna remarked, with lack of a better term, "Hessairs, heard of them? I've read some net articles about them but that's about it."
Laiken looked up at the flickering lights when they went into FTL, the translation from realspace to warp was all but unnoticeable save for a power drain from other ship systems. No feeling of nausea, light headedness, or general physical unease but some mental strain given the second, and probably third hand nature of the ship. There would be a lot of work needed here to make this thing even seem remotely safe in the long run.
She went around cracking her knuckles while sitting around in the ships mess before looking back over at Wizna.
"So, where in this mess of competition is our client at?... Once we finish up here I'll go clean uo"
"We have a good amount of time to freshen up," Wizna remarked while stretching in her seat, "Unfortunately they wouldn't let me book some shuttle space too close unless we wanna blow every last bit of cash we got."
The faint hum around them quieted down for a moment, as the ship's computers worked to resolve the competition between powered systems. They were nearing their destination after all the tedious travel time. Wizna looked back to her information, silently cursing and clenching her jaw in brief annoyance as she accidentally closed half of her open AncNet tabs. She could not remember what she even had open on them.
"That seems to be the gist of this place, though. A lot of drama. We're gonna have to charter that shuttle for a port..... looking to be eighty-one kilometers out and we'll make a daytrip through the countryside. There's not that many pop-centers and our friend seems pretty low on the social ladder out here. 48 hours tops, driving a box and minding our own business, and a shitload of money." Wizna forwarded the information with locations to her friends.
"It's going to be plenty cold this time of year," Wizna genuinely smiled,transitioning to a hearty yawn and standing up, "Soon I'll go get some gear together for our trip, If you could make sure that shuttle is good to go that would be awesome. After that I'm gonna crash until we get there.
“Ja mit if you are needink anyzink, komme to be seeing me before vee arrive. Vee vill need you in tippy toppy shape to deal vith tzese theiving turnip farmers.”
A slap of his heel and Heinrich was quickly out of the room. Several secods later the dull noise of servos penetrated the air as the lost thumb wriggled its way into view of its own accord.
---------------------------------
Heinrich whistled a meery tune, delibertly blotting outKoning's constant interru[ptoions. That was until he walked past the engine room, which a trace air contemanent caught his eye, Koning helpfully displaying its chemical uses in a difficult to navigate list format, complete with advertisements for firms and companies long dead.
Beryllium Oxide Illuminated in neon lights, as Koning had perfectly anticipated heinrich's interest in the compound. Some of the rough crystal had deposited in an abnormally cool air vent, intended to cycle air contaminants
Ja mit qvite karcinogenik. Old engine running zat dirty surplus fuel , leakink exhaust in zeh vents Ich should be mentioning zis to mizz vizna
Among the list of 27 unbelievable uses for Berylium oxide, the ones that stood out tho heinrich the most were
extremely karcenogenik in high konentrations
- useful in mild neruotoxins and inflamation agents
- Useful in light weight ceramics.
This last one of of great note. Sure it could cause cancer, but he was confident he could cure it with minimal tissue damage. Laiken and Wizna would definitely appreciate a light weight disposable armour they didn't have to pay for. He frowned slightly as he noted the lack of equipment required to process it for such uses. He produced a chisel from his left sleeve and went about scraping some of the residue into a small vial.
Laiken replied back to Heinrich, while his mannerisms were a bit odd, he had good intentions at the core of it. She looked down at the disembodied thumb as it crawled down along the floor of the ship after he left.
"Should we tell him.... Also, what're the locals like? From what it sounds like it'll be mostly quiet, just don't want to get stuck in a blizzard."
She stood up and stretched out her arms as she was getting ready to head out back to the hanger to do some preflight checks and clean up a little bit. There was still plenty of time left in the day and no need to rush, but getting it done now was needed.
"I'll be in either my quarters or the hangar if you need me."
------------------
Down in the hangar of the Knob Laiken was toiling away in the shuttles cockpit after a brief shower going over a paper checklist that was well worn down of everything needed to make the ship ready to fly, including some small notes like "Copilot's gauges are fried, ignore them if they show really weird readings." and "Cargo bay always smells like burnt cheese". It was an all over check of the ship, just to make sure the basics were good and done well enough before they could get enough money to actually fix it besides for in house repairs to keep the ship flying.
Her eyes wandered away from the checklist and the fuel lines she was hooking up the shuttle over to the very expensive box they were transporting, what was in it was a strong question on Laiken's mind. There was a brief consideration of peeking on it that was quickly extinguished out of fear for the value of the contract and what it meant to not only her but everyone else that pitched in money for this venture.
As Laiken prepared their shuttle, she would find nothing out of the range of her aptitude to maintain with ease, as well as giving no great cause for concern over malfunctions and the like. The craft was a beater with a lot of travel time on it, but these older models were 'built to last', so to say. Wizna had prepped their small utility vehicle as she was working, waiting for the OK from Laiken before embarking the 4-seated vehicle onto the shuttle. Wizna had gotten dressed in her cold-weather gear early, given they weren't too far out from hitting the ground; bulky, light-colored layers she affectionately refered to as her 'happy suit'. Her light and sparse armor was worn undernearth, a small pistol already fixed on her hip as well.
In their utility vehicle, Wizna had already packed out and secured their supplies which still left ample space in the back. This list included food, extra clothes, tools, an array of emergency equipment up to and including some arms and ammunition. The initial spaceport was one of the more civilized and gentlemanly locations on this world, and even then there was a minimal state apparatus aside from local gentry that enforced restricitons and regulations on passage and trade. That was, aside from proper customs inspections and ensuring travellers weren't wanted criminals or subject to an outstanding bounty.
-
The Brass Knob's trip in system was uneventful. They opened and maintained communications with their recieving port, Wizna ensuring to reserve a hangar for their shuttle with the bare minimum accomodation for a week's time. It was dirt cheap and provided them the time necessary to get the job finished, leave, and get their deposit back. Although she had not worked the money piece out of fear of seeing their numbers, hoping Embla had managed it for them entirely, Wizna smugly congratulated herself on her outstanding planning process.
Laiken's diagnosis had proven their equipment was serviceable and in good working order. Wizna's preparation had ensured they were scheduled and packed properly. As they were coming to their departure time and preparing to leave their ship to securely loiter in orbit, they awaiting for everyone to muster and complete their preparation.
"Everything's going fine up here. Should be 10 minutes give or take for it to be fueled up..... Say do you think we'll be down there long? Thats an awful lot of equipment."
She inquired as she climbed out onto the roof and towards one of the gantries to climb her way down to the hangar floor. The pistol Wizna had slung to her hip seemed pretty unremarkable, self defense, but hey, they weren't expecting to run into much trouble anyways.
"One of those guns for me? Can't say I've ever used one properly before so I don't know how much of use it will be. Also, the fueling is automated so I'm going to go get myself cleaned up. Hopefully this cold weather gear fits."
---
xxx
Leaving their ship in orbit, the ensemble took their shuttle down with all of their requisite gear they thought to bring. The planet and port were behind the times by galactic standards, but still had every necessary accommodation to allow a plethora of traders and travelers to be constantly churning on and off world. The traffic controller directed their shuttle to a modest hangar, partitioned off to independently house their shuttle and then some. Even though the structures aground were drab and standard, they could be grateful to stretch their legs or contemplate how secure ground and gravity were compared to the rigors and attentiveness of atmospheric entry.
Their hangar was in an independent roofed bay, tightly packed in a massive strip building with hundreds of other partitions. This area and series of structures was just one small portion of the spaceport, which was also a small portion relative to the urban sprawl of the city of Grefleich. The city was situated in the more temperate end of the continent's valley range, providing suitable conditions for a mass of population to be sustained. For those who had done their homework or went to look for information, they would quickly learn that even the uncomfortably chilly and grey valley range was the most forgiving terrain on this side of the continent.
There were three dominant routes that they could reliably take overland, aside from braving the wilderness of the musty bogs or the harsh peaks that cut the skyline for hundreds of miles.
Their first route was along the fishing settlements along the northern coastline; it held the easiest terrain to traverse but was very high-visibility. They would pass through dozens of minor 'fiefdoms' whose interests were very unclear. Their second primary route was through the sparsely populated bogs and badlands; harsher conditions and harsher people, with much less support from civilization's conveniences. The third route was a southern route that skimmed through one of the more traverseable mountain passes, with the longest travel time for those crazy enough to travel the high elevation in the treacherous cold season.
He coughed into his hand before speakink,
"I zink that zee bester bay to drink this is to be avoidink zee local populshuns. High value cargo and vat eva."
He pointed to the mountain pass.
"Vith zee combined skillz of zee krewe plus mizz viznas oversight, our atmospherics should suffice, and vee avoid any potential detektion."
Laiken was somewhat impressed by the landscape and the treacherous valleys of this world... Less so the cities and the port that they entered in, they seemed like slums abundant in any port city across the galaxy. However, when she got out of the ship and were loading up even under a heavy winter coat and fur lined cap began to shiver.
"Wait you want to go over those mountains? It's cold here, I can't imagine what they would be up there out in the sticks."
___
Wizna had not accounted that with the cold season here, the days were much shorter; they had already forged well into their path into the fault-block mountained territories before them. The roads were paved in an adequate material, showing them that the powers that ruled over these lands did invest in their locale even if they kept themselves sparse.
The tone of the ground was a bleak grey sea of chipped rocks and jagged outcroppings, with white frost kissing its surface wherever it could latch on. With the cold snap of the outdoors, they could more than likely feel as if it were painful to the touch. With the hazardous environment, Wizna had to stop herself from trying to clear as much ground as possible in their utility vehicle. If anything were to happen to their gear, they would be pressed for time with the closest possible help being questionable and out of arm's reach.
A good amount of the group's travel was through the low, gentler valleys that were easy for the roads to be built on. Eventually the rugged ground and the endless series of fingers and draws forced the path to the elevated crests. As she had feared, twilight was swiftly approaching as they hit the high and winding path.
'Always winning, I am,' Wizna thought, with a scoff. A myriad of dismal guesses coursed through her head, which she swiftly buried on account of a hard smack of precipitation on their windshield. Without missing a beat, the familiar chorus of rain began to intensify outside of their vehicle.
Their windshield was an enhanced digital display, working its best to correct the visible deficiencies and enhance their ability to see the environment before them. The precipitation created a thick curtain around them, paired with the steam produced by their vehicle clouding up their headlights. On their right side was a severely-angled slope some hundred meters down a draw, on their left side was a gentler slope planing towards a peak silhouetting against the navy-blue sky. On that slope, there were dozens of large outcroppings, blocking their field of view.
Wizna brought the vehicle to a stop, hoping to get a grasp on the weather before pushing on. Just as she turned to her compatriots, there was a glimmer in the distance. A small circle of solid right light, no larger than a few inches across, appeared and went without a trace. It wasn't immediately discernible whether or not it was down the winding road or along the terrain. No more than twenty meters ahead of their vehicle was stack of larger rocks in a pyramid just off the left side of the path.
An omen or a marker, perhaps. Anything that wasn't absolutely ordinary made Wizna scream internally; outwardly, she took a deep breath. She consulted her partners in a calm demeanor. "I'm tired as fuck from driving, but y'all saw that one, yeah?"
She peered up at the slope, her gaze inscrutable behind the utility visor.
"I could ascend and attempt to gain an alternate view of the phenomena."
Laiken retorted, she used one of her hands to rub her eyes and another to wipe away some condensation from the rain. She then looked out the right side window (She is probably seated in the back right) over the cliff.
"Thats a long way down.... Embla wanna go check out that ridge?"
The four armed cyborg was a little confused as to what was going on, its been a while since she was planetside and in the rain. Something here did not seem right, not something she could put her fingers on.
Wizna brought the vehicle partially off the road at an oblique, still positioned to quickly mount the route if they needed. They were already a little behind schedule, and part of her wanted to blow through this occurrence and leave it in the dust. "I'll hit that crest with you; even if I'm a fleshbag everyone needs a buddy," Wizna said, cracking the door and letting the stinging cold bite into the air of the cabin. The sound of the downpour intensified, drowning out the idling motor and blowers for the heat. She set one foot out of the door, feeling the water dampen her outer layers.
On their right side, along the edge of the steep drop off, Laiken would have been able to make out a pair of small artificial objects on the ground, with a linear object attached and running down the slope into the dead space they could not see. They were muted colors, blending in well and beginning to vanish in the low light. On the gentler ridge to their left, water ran down in streams cutting between rocking outcroppings, boulders, and divots that adorned it. The skyline was harsh, but with the light waning the contrast was beginning to fade.
Stepping out into the rain, the water began to pang sharply off her metallic frame. Unlike many RAI, she lacked s synthflesh coating and was purely metallic, though her coat deflected much of the downpour.
She set off uphill, making long strides as she went, but the rocky terrain made visibility hard. She extended her left arm and the two decorative wings began to buzz, separating to reveal a small drone which whirred upwards to try and get a better view as they climbed.
"It is possible someone is in distress." she remarked matter-of-factly
She stepped out of the truck and into the cold air and the downpour outside, the water sloshing off the jacket and onto the rocky crest. The small objects caught her eye on the ground. She did not approach beyond for what she could see right now.
"You guys go check out the ridge. Theres something else down here. Anyone know what these things on the ground are." She pointed to the objects with her hands.
"I do not really want to approach these things."
With the risk of skylining herself, Wizna pointed a focused light in the area of interest Laiken was referring to. Upon further inspection, Laiken was able to make out that they were small rusted circular rings, pinned vertically into the ground. Clipped onto them with stout D-rings were strands of line, running down into the darkness.
Embla's drone was able to detect from several positions biological signatures, all uphill and approximately fifty meters away. However, there was no heat signature or subtle movements detected.
With her left hand she pointed uphill to emphasize, whilst her drone drifted closer to try and get a better look at whomever or whatever was awaiting them further up the slope.
"Hey uh Wizna, what do landmines look like again? There's these rusty metal rings with rope attached to them that runs down the cliff. That bad?" She shouted up the cliff in a concerned tone. This did not seem right, there was a knot stuck in her stomach from a tinge of fear.
Wizna looked to Embla making her wide gesture and gave a stiff nod, and back over to Laiken who was dangerously close to the abnormal objects. Wizna knew that in this moment, it would be best to act ignorant as to not signal their potential observers that they were aware of their presence. She positioned herself between them to have eyes on both of her friends.
The only thing she attempted to offer Laiken was putting a finger over her own lips; the universal signal to keep down.
Laiken was able to see the lines run down the sheer edge of the cliff, disappearing quite a ways down until it run underneath an overhang that jutted out of the side of the slope. In even intervals down the thick rope were large knots tied into it; each about an arm's length apart.
Embla's drone was able to make out the details much more clearly as it cut through the thick screen of precipitation. Two humanoid figures lying down; comically long and bulky rifles, wearing long cloaks. A pair of sharpshooters lying still in an observation position. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to be a bit too still. As the drone made its final approach, each of them were quite clearly dead; one with their skull crushed and the other with ghastly lacerations to the legs.
"Two armed individuals ahead. Both are deceased from blunt trauma and lacerations."
She delivered the news as serenely as if she were announcing that breakfast was ready, before turning to continue uphill towards the bodies. Arriving, she peered around to see if she could identify any tracks leading to or from the site, before taking a closer look at the shooters to see what species they were and whether their gear gave any clue as to their provenance. She gingerly lifted the rifle away from squishy-head, checking to see if it had been fired.
Laiken whispered to Wizna as she took in a bit better view of the lines running down the cliff before backing away a bit closer to the truck. This whole situation did not seem good or safe for the human. Better to live not knowing.
“I would prefer to live in ignorance of not knowing what fully happened here than getting flattened and torn up like our friends up there.”
She pointed discretely up the hill with her robotic hand.
The men were cloaked and hooded, wearing dark colored blue and black clothing with a small coat of arms on their sleeve. A shield with a checkered background, with a single feather running diagonally in the center. A cursory search yielded that this was the family crest of Count Kieber; the lord of a territory a couple counties west. Strangely enough, a county neighboring their destination.
Without missing a beat, a hulking mass cleared the skyline, crested the hill, coming down the reverse slope towards them. Its silhouette was as wide as their truck, standing head and shoulders above the average height of a man. Its body was covered in a thick and weathered exoskeleton, covering the totality of its eight limbs and only opening for its joints and jagged maw on its underside. It moved on six legs, with two clawed arms oriented in front of it.
Wizna did a double take, shining her powerful light up the slope; the shelled beast was clear to see for all moving at an alarming speed towards the trio. "Too late!" Wizna grimaced, setting the flashlight in her teeth and wasting no time to fire a slug at it. Her snap shot without a buttstock at a target approximately fifty meters out miraculously connected, but harmlessly bounced off of its top carapace.
As it approached, she planned to close with it and attempt to gain a purchase on the rear of its shell, out of range of its stamping legs and grasping pincers, and then use one of her multitools or her new-found pistol to begin dismantling it. Although she lacked combat training, as a former domestic servant she had excellent hand-eye co-ordination, balance and strength.
Laiken said in a flight of terror as she ran back to the truck. A giant crab, this is not something she expected at all. It was for certain the culprit for those dead soldiers up on the ridge, what were they doing there in the first place? Waiting for them? The mines, or what she thought as mines were still a worry, but there were bigger crustaceans to fry right now.
Embla, what are you doing. She thought to herself as one set of hands busily pulled out a rifle from the bed of the truck and the other two helped to stabilize against the side of the truck. A quick shot rang out as she did not fully get the rifle centered on target. Miss.
She forcefully pumped the action of her shotgun, slam-firing the next round which went wide along with Laiken's. Her non-dominant hand immediately went to her belt as she produced a handful of long cartridges; flechette. Wizna began loading the rounds and sprinting into the network of rocky outcroppings, losing her footing several times on the wet uphill climb. The Minevan silently prayed to the old gods that Laiken could make her aim true, as she loaded her own weapon. She cried out to her friend, "I'm comin', Em!"
Her initial and only concern was for her companions. A deep sense of dread filled her as she wasn't able to close the gap in time to draw the beast's attention. To compound her fears, the creature was fast and closing on Embla. The massive crustacean seamlessly scaled the terrain next to the android and took a blind swipe with one of its pointed forelegs; a long and thin appendage made for jabbing and skewering.
She landed with an inelegant bump on the crabs back, spreading her limbs and clawing with her toes and fingers in an attempt to stay atop the beast as it bucked and writhed.
She worked her left hand towards a gap in the chitinous shell and activated her fusion torch, attempting to burn the flesh of the monster
Laiken says to herself as she lines up another shot with the rifle braced up against the truck bed. Breath, relax a little and don't get caught up in stress. She leveled the rifle and chambered another round and lined up the shot at the crab only to notice that Embla was clambering on its back. The shot was not taken.
This was shocking to say the least. There was no reason to shoot her own compatriot.
"Y'all good up there?"
Embla's attacks worked like exploits of time immemorial; if your opponent came clad head to toe in armor, slip a dagger into the fleshy joints. Her improvised attack yielded results, the torch cooking through the flesh and paralyzing on of its moving appendages. The crustacean immediately lost balance as it learned to stand on five legs, repeatedly hitting the ground and bucking erratically. For its rider, it was certain to be a bumpy endeavor that would prove more difficult than a demiorganic rodeo.
In lieu of her clean shot that she wanted, Wizna shifted out of cover and let a shot fly point blank. A dozen heavy darts blasted from the scattergun, turning one of its massive front claws into fragments of chitin and hanging stringy meat. The beast thrashed at her with its other front claw, only managing to connect with the blunt end. Wizna took the hit with the shotgun barrel, allowing herself to get knocked back behind cover. "Stay behind him!" She shouted to Embla.
As Laiken was keeping her sights steady, she would notice a distinct bump shift the truck bed an inch and disrupt her aim. Upon a cursory look in the back; the small box was not where they had left it.
She came to a halt with unnatural rapidity, suddenly stood facing back uphill, her clothes and exposed metallic skin streaked with grass and mossy stains.
Realizing she would not likely succeed if she tried to repeat her trick, she instead began using the drone to buzz the stricken monster, repeatedly darting down at its eyestalks and dancing back just out of reach of its one good claw.
Well this was not good. Her eyes darted around the truck and the nearby environment, for certain the box was gone. This would not be easy to explain, everything they worked for gone in an instant, this entire trip for nothing and their loans never to be repayed.
Laiken got desperate and looked under the truck and spotted a man hiding under it and clutching onto the box. She put the rifle back in the truck and with both of her cybernetic arms darted under the truck to drag out the man and the box.
"Who the hell are you?!"
Upon being found in his hiding spot, the man cursed loudly. "Shit!" His voice was addled in shock and fear, flooded with adrenaline, "Shitshitshit!"
He violently writhed at being grabbed, using the wetness of his clothing and ground to his advantage to slip free of her initial grasp. The jacketed man pulled himself halfway out from underneath the truck, trying to make a break towards the cliff edge. As Laiken secured her grip on him, he made a rash move out of desperation; he summoned all of his strength to hurl the package as far as he could.
With a whine of its rotors her drone sped downhill, hoping to either block the package in mid-air or at least track it to see where it went.
Laiken ignored the box for now. It was crucial not let this man get away from them, she used her advantages to get any leverage she could on this situation, and it was finally in something she was at least somewhat good at. Wrestling and punching people.
She tried to use her grip to secure him in a full nelson with two of her organic arms to prevent him from fleeing and stomped on his foot while struggling to keep him upright and not fighting back. With the other two free hands she picked up the rifle again and tried to line up a shot on the fleeing crab with Wizna out of the way and took it, bouncing off the stunned animals carapace as it retreated away.
"Who the hell are you? You're lucky I don't break your arms right here."
"Yeah, we need to get the fuck out of here," Wizna muttered out loud.
The only thing that worried her was the fate of their package; what was now teetering on the edge of the cliff with the rain now edging it ever so slightly towards the drop by the second. It was saved from barreling straight down the gorge only by Embla's expert maneuver, buying them some time.
Laiken's opponent thrashed as much as he could to no effect; a malnutritioned man who had been camping out in austere conditions being no match for a fresh cage fighter. "Unhand me, you sow!" He bellowed, "You have no idea what that package will do!"
She threw the rifle back down into the truck bed and secured her visegrip on the malnourished man and rifled through the bed with her two free arms to try and find something, anything to secure him and stop him from running away. Laiken had no idea who this man was, or his business here. Maybe one of the survivors who tried to ambush them here before that rather angry crustacean got them?
"Couldn't agree more Wiz, get the truck started. What should we do with this guy?" As the man yelled his insults, Laiken yelled back as she tried to wrap up his hands in rope. "Hey thats not very nice you know."
Returning uphill at a more sedate pace, holding the package cautiously. Seemingly oblivious to the wrestling match, she calmly opened the cab door, gently placed the package on the seat and gingerly shut the door. Only then did she turn her head to Laiken and the stranger, crossing over in two steps and taking one arm and shoulder in her vice-like, robotic grip, her sleek white hands hiding a pitiless strength that had originally been granted her in order to perform general household maintenance and menial tasks.
She offered Laiken a cheerful smile as she helped to subdue the would-be thief.
"Yeah," She replied, cramming her shotgun back into the driver's compartment, "I think our friend should talk to our recipient, probably find him a comfy spot in the back"
Feebly as he tried, the man put all of his effort into resisting the process before his hands and ankles were inevitably bound. When his limbs failed him, he continued with his words. "Nice?" He spat, voice cracking in his protest, "Kidnapped by three foreign whores, you don't even know what you're delivering!"
Wizna whistled at his creative language, sliding into the driver's seat. "Y'all can gag him, I think the law is pretty loose around these parts..."
"I've never made a gag before, figure that'll put some sense into him." The cyborg raises two arms in a shrug and kept a good eye on their thief.
"Well, what we're doing with that box is none of your business is it?....... Who even are you?"
She delivered this in a breezy, matter-of-fact tone, sounding for all the world like an announcer at an airport. Her metallic-white skin glinted as rain spanged off it.
"Oh please, shut up," Wizna pinched the bridge of her nose, unimpressed. The trio mounted in the vehicle after ensuring nothing was left behind, and they continued on their way. She was thankful that the roads were only wet and not icy; these were some of the warmest possible days in this cold season. Hopefully they could avoid the higher peaks and ranges on their route.
The headlights illuminated the dark path before them, the rain sporadically clearing up. Now, Wizna was on the lookout for both highwaymen and crustaceans. Periodically, they even checked on the bandit they had in tow.
"I am so far out of my element. I'm a spacer. I should be in a neat apartment and slamming cheap ramen while screwing around on the AncNet," Wizna joked, "Instead we are soaked to the bone, kidnapping bandits and fending off crabs. You guys alright?"
Laiken pats down the arms of her jacket to get some of the water off of it and takes it off due to how wet it was in favor of wrapping herself in a blanket sitting in the back seat. She keeps a close eye on the bandit sitting next to her and scooted all the way up against the other door. Count Klieber, the name sounded familiar to her but not very
"You know, thats actually the first time I've shot a gun, or atleast held one in years. I think I did better than I thought." She chuckled a bit as she pulled the blanket around her neck.
Water dripped from her coat and jeans and glistened on her metal frame, but it did not seem to bother her as she slowly ruined the upholstery of the truck.
The other routes would have easily taken the group several times longer, and probably yielded much more drama. Even the remote and unforgiving mountain passes had brigands and beasts lying in wait to ambush them. One could only imagine what the more temperate riverlands and populated areas could have yielded, had they traveled straight through. Another advantage of their route was the awe-inspiring view of the seemingly endless horizon, displaying an array of peaks numbering in the hundreds.
During her breaks from driving, Wizna made effort to discuss the details she’d found on the local AncNet, sifting through dozens of active programs on her personal tablet that were causing it to work at critical capacity. Their would-be ambushers, including their charge riding in the back, were subjects of a local authority under the rule of the Klieber family. The current ruler was Treyus Klieber; a very private individual known in the recent years to be a staunch recluse. His county, and many of the surrounding localities, had been economically struggling for some time with their man source of income being their travelling leased regiments. In contrast, there was one territory in the area that served in stark contrast with relative prosperity.
County Guinness, owned by Henry Guinness; the recipient of their package. Henry was by all accounts regarded as a fair and popular ruler. He was relatively well known for his prowess both in battle and the courts, as well as his niche ability to always broker deals and treaties. This propensity, however, seemed to put him at odds with all of his neighbors as he spread his influence with common welfare and loans.
-----
Their vehicle was decently low on fuel; enough to make them the rest of the way on their journey, but they would have to refuel before they made their return trip. They were out of the mountains and into the lowlands; gentle rolling hills, patches of dense woodlands, and swathes of farmland with rugged machines working the land. The roads improved, and the group passed through the occasional small settlement along the way. The plain folk along the route paid them little mind aside from passing glances.
It was only when they began to near their destination when the next anomaly appeared to them. According to their map and estimations, Wizna knew they had entered County Guinness. Another sure indicator that they had made it was the presence of an armed checkpoint barring their path; a small building adorned with a massive crest, attached to a barrier that extended across their path that looked solid enough to stop most commercial vehicles that dared to challenge it. Wizna continued the approach, the group able to make out several individuals.
The gate guards were a trio of humans, all wearing obnoxiously gilded uniforms. Their jacket tops were light blue with gaudy medals and decorations and seams lined with golden trim. Their trousers would have been a blinding white with the same bold golden stripes down the seams, had they not been stained with the rigors of the outdoors. Their caps were tall and plumed, each bearing the same Guinness crest on the front as the guard shack next to them. Each man carried a massive rifle slung over their shoulders; the infamous five-footer that the Hessairs were known in the galaxy for. While these soldiers were dressed for parade, each of their personal appearances served as stark contrast. One was built abnormally tall and skinny, another was testing the limits of the uniform materials, and the apparent leader of the group was short, frumpy, and upon closer inspection possessed a rather unrefined brow.
The truck stopped at the barrier. Both the fat and skinny guard unslung their rifles, standing off to the sides and remaining at the alert carry. Their short leader approached, signaling them to lower their windows. In his free hand, he held a datapad on a pistol-grip, which he examined the screen of with great effort. Without looking up at them, he began speaking.
“You ain’t from 'round 'ere, what’s yer business?” The man spoke in the most uncouth and unprofessional manner possible. He up from his datapad several time, at each person in the vehicle. He did several double takes from his screen, face turning red in visible frustration. The guard focused in on Embla, narrowing his glare. “Says you got three in here besides the synth. What’s all this then, eh?”
"Hello duck," she said brightly, "We're delivering a very important package for Lord Guinness himself. We've had such a terrible time; we were attacked by a giant crab and by thugs paid by Treyus Klieber. You've no idea how glad we are to see you."
Wizna and Laiken would notice that Embla was suddenly using contractions and her voice had taken on a faintly unfamiliar lilt that echoed that of the guards. Her original programming had included the ability to mimic dialects and accents to allow her to better assimilate into any place of work, and she was finding a use for it now.
Laiken looked at Embla weirldy when she imitated the dialect, it was so out of place to hear it coming from the synths mouth. She kept the second set of arms behind her back and spoke up to the guards as well.
"We're also running a bit low on fuel, any good place to get some more?"
"What's a duck?" Laiken softly said to Wizna and Embla.
"Wh- wh- oi!" He stammered out, trying to exude a command presence, "I'm the one askin' the questions 'round 'ere!"
His compatriots were at a distance and angled to either side of the car, exchanging each other confused looks. The frumpy guard pointed a finger at each of the passengers, counting each of them under his breath. "Now wait a second, as Lord Guiness' top sergeant, 'ow come I dint 'ear about some secret package comin' through?"
There was a short pause as a pensive expression grew on him, "And if there's three of ya 'ere, where's the other?"
Wizna trailed off in reply, astounded by the border guard. "Uh... we came to present him to the courts?" She took a stab.
"Yes, 'e's one-uh Klieber's men. We captured 'im tryin' teh steal Lord Guiness' personal belongings. It's all very secret - even we don't know what's inside the package, only Lord Guiness knows."
She nodded at the road ahead.
"I don't want to keep Lord Guiness waitin', we're already late as is. He's been waitin' while a month, can't imagine he'll be happy if we take any longer."
Laiken added onto Embla reply and pointed with a free hand to their tied up captive. She was hoping that they would get a move on quickly, these guards did not seem quite right to her. Nor did they seem to like their presence. The less time they had to spend here the better.
"Got m'self a vehicle full uh for'n women," He made sure to force out that last word, taking time to enunciate his multi-syllable words, "Tellin' me you got private business with my liege, and a boy tied up 'n the back too, that right?"
The guard let it hang in the air for a minute, looking to read the girls' expressions and body language. A few tense moments later, his demeanor slipped into a chuckle. "You lot best not be lyin' now, lemme see this bellend ya strung up."
He stepped back for space, waving towards himself.
"Yeah this one, we just want to get on our way as soon as possible ."
With a quick bit of dexterity she opened up the side door and rolled the prisoner out of the seat to the ground while still holding onto the back of his wrists to the guard. She had no real way to hide her extra set of arms and seemed a bit uncomfortable out here and just wanted to get it over.
"Now where do I know ye, dick 'ed..." His voice trailed off, looking the tied and gagged captive in the face. A moment passed, and he smiled in realization. "A bunch uh girls snagged Klieber's nephew? Ha!"
The air filled with his hearty laughter, rivaling the dejected look on the battered young man being held down. " 'Ell wanna see this himself. I'll take you lot to 'im personally. What say ya make room in there for me, safe passage 'n all."
Laiken asked of the laughing guard as she scooted back over to the rear seat with their captive. Now that was not something you saw very often, what was a lords nephew doing out starving in the sticks? She looked up and over at the guard they were taking to Lord Guinness' residence and was mainly glad to be getting under way.
"What's he actually like?" She asked the guard in reference to Guinness .
The man laughed as the group drove off, quickly leaving the pair of border guards on the horizon behind them. "Lord Guinness the only 'n with gall on 'is rock, tryn' to make us strong 'fore the galaxy goes down the shitter. Klieber and 'is friends'r mad the Lord takes their runaways! So mad that there'r more bandits then ever."
The man prattled on for some time singing the praises of their delivery recipient in great detail. The regaling was straightforward from this simple-minded man; Henry Guinness was apparently a fair and just leader, at odds with all of his neighbors in some way due to his influence. The man continued up until a sudden paused. "Oi, sorry ladies. 'Name's Sergeant George Williamson," He said slow and careful, "Sarn't Williamson."
----------
In contrast through their journey from the city, the countryside in County Guinness was lush and vibrant. The small hamlets and villages they passed were full of activity, the fields were flourishing and well-staffed by elaborate machinery and their workers, and the roads were both improved and trafficked by respectable individuals and vehicles. They had left a faux-medieval backwater and stumbled into a more familiar looking, yet humble space-age society. Even the occasional low-altitude freight shuttle would pass overhead to grace them with the noise and vibration from their thrusters.
Sergeant Williamson gave them pointed directions all along the way. The sparse homesteads changed into tighter clusters of structures. The small collections of homes and shops turned into neatly ordered streets. The winding roads became more linear, improved, and clean. The rougher looking country folk turned into cleaner-cut and smartly dressed city dwellers in greater numbers. This city was not nearly as impressive as the planet's spaceport, and was dwarfed by many of the megacities that the spacers were sure to be familiar with among the colonial Ancerious powers. Even so, compared to the journey they had taken, the city of Lawryk was a rare gem.
Lawryk was built around a circular basin and its runoff rivers. As the party approached the core of the city, the variety of dress around them changed into ensembles of uniformed and armed personnel on post, loitering about, drilling, mustering, and all manner of mundane soldiering tasks for those in garrison. The many colorful shops transitioned into uniform barracks and cut-and-dry recreational establishments tailored to them; bars, brothels, trinket peddlers, tattoo parlors, and otherwise.
-----
The road led them to the shore of the basin, which held a reinforced and manned gate before a suspended bridge across the water. The guards were incredulous at first seeing Wizna in the front seat, until Sergeant Williamson wasted no time to lean out of the window and bark orders at them.
"You lot open up! Got top bus'ness with Lord Guinness 'imself!" The guards immediately recognized him and snapped to, letting the vehicle through their checkpoint with urgency.
Over top of the lake, supported by ten massive mechanical legs reaching into the depths of the water, was a massive suspended compound. All they could see from their road was the round base of the platform that assumed the size of several city blocks, the high metal walls guarding what was on top of it, and the few structures tall enough to reach the horizon. The materials were varying shades of silver in a myriad of plates cast together with a plethora of gold-colored ornamentation inlaid in massive patterns on the exterior. The entire display was gaudy, yet impressive.
The road led them to a singular gate which was also decorated with inlaid gold. Instead of just frills and random decor, it held many murals of the same burly man in all manner of glorious combat slaying men and beast alike. Beneath these designs were the soldiers manning the gate; men sharing the same decorated uniform as George, though they were much younger and much more physically fit. Two guards approached, one speaking to George and the other intensely inspecting the others in the vehicle; both shared an unbreakable serious demeanor.
In moments, the gate split in two and parted in the center enough for their vehicle to pass through. Another squad of guards inside of the compound quickly ushered and directed their vehicle to the motor stable directly inside. Their vehicle was secured, the girls were relieved of their unfortunate prisoner, and they were duly informed they were to be unarmed and escorted whilst on the premises.
-
Wizna took their package by the handles once George stopped the guards from confiscating the parcel; utilizing direct threats of greatly upsetting their liege and receiving unfavorable duties or unsavory punishments in kind. Sergeant Williamson led the ensemble through the extravagant courtyard, staying on the set walkway and moving with haste. Inside this compound was greener grass than Wizna had seen in her entire life and what had seemed like thousands of alien floral specimens living in harmony. A handful of expensive-looking structures with many balconies and spires lined the suspended castle. Handfuls of noble children ran about hollering, along with groups of guardsmen and noblefolk alike leering at the out-of-place group.
-
Sergeant Williamson stopped the group out front of a set of double doors to the central structure. From the other end they could hear a myriad of voices and upbeat orchestral music. Before they could even consider what they could be interrupting, Sergeant Williamson forcefully pushed the door open and confidently strode in. Before them was a massive antechamber with walls decorated by the same murals as the front gate, and the room was littered with several life-size statues built from an ungodly expensive composite. The subject of every bit of art was the same imposing man; a heavily-armored greatsword wielder with an impressive build and a jaw that could crush stone. At the far end of the room opposite to them was a large throne, an open area, and plentiful seating alongside food and drink.
The room was filled with dozens upon dozens of individuals, all now staring at the new entrants with nothing short of bewildered expressions. Amongst them were noblemen and noblewoman in various types of impractical clothing, prominent dignitaries, minor celebrities, and decorated officers. There was a musical ensemble of exotic instruments ranging from oblong guitars, attuned psionic crystals, floating spectrograms, and oddly shaped woodwinds. In front of the throne was the subject of the various artworks; an older man whose protruding belly showed he was well past his prime, albeit on closer inspection he appeared to be more machine than human. His mechanical extremities wore the same ornate armor as his image in the plurality of motifs and depictions. This man was Lord Henry Guinness.
-
Sergeant Williamson snapped to attention, his boot stomping to the floor to fill the chamber with a large crack. “M’lord! Found m’self three travelling women, knowin’ ye by name, had just smacked up a few uh Klieber’s boys!”
His voice echoed throughout the room, causing chatter to erupt through the crowd and spreading worried and confused expressions like a plague. However, Henry Guinness stood still; hands on his hips and mustached lips drawn into an amused smirk. After a few moments, Henry’s deep, booming voice filled the chamber.
“You have my thanks, Sergeant Williamson,” This was accompanied by the subtlest of bows, “My ladies, my interest is piqued. You have my attention.”
Laiken replied to Williamson as the truck got moving again across the road and into open country. She welcomed it over the harsh mountain passes that they almost died in atleast twice, it was almost poetic and an idealist way of viewing the world. Of course there was the issue of looking down on their society and hamlets from afar without much up close experience that they seemed nice, but thats the thing. They seemed relaxing and looked good dotted across the landscape.
"Sure as hell beats those mountains."
The Keplerite far from home looked lazily across the landscape as it flew by.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
"I haven't seen anything like this before. It looks right out of one of those old pictures"
She quipped to Embla and Wizna just before they stepped inside the main audience hall of the rather impressive fort and palace complex. With the fur lined jacket left behind in the car Laiken wore her muddied orange and white utility suit that stood out like a sore thumb along with the extra set of arms coming out of the back. Not knowing much on how court politics worked, and not really expecting to do much in the first place, Laiken improvised.
First she bowed and addressed the lord
"It is a pleasure my Lord Guinness. We were hired out at Carrefour Station to deliver this package for you, and across an ambush and several run ins with the wildlife we have delivered. I must say your palace is rather beautiful."
"More pleasant than Klieber's hills I'm guessing?" Henry remarked, followed by a hearty laugh at his own sharp wit.
Henry's metallic hands clapped together, producing a reverberation that a layman could have mistaken for a shotgun. "Friends, associates, guests!" His cadence was slow and deliberate, making great use of inflection to garner the full attention of the room, "Carry on, I must attend to this. Enjoy this octet I paid to stop performing, eh?"
The lord's fingers snapped above his head, creating a low clanging sound. The various musicians about the room, recognizing the strong hint, clamored to work their tools and fill the room with merriment once more. The various dignitaries strewn about in their groups resumed their droning conversations, not many trying to hide the leers towards the low-blooded entrants.
Henry took a step forward, beckoning the four of them towards him through the open aisle in the middle of the antechamber. Sergeant Williamson motioned them ahead, making sure to remind the women of their manners and the respect due to his liege. Wizna began walking ahead, leaning back from the firm weight of the box.
"Cam on then," Henry called out to them as they approached, his demeanor noticeably shifting to be less professional the closer they got, "Isn't every day I get three women bargin' in my door. Who're you? How long ye been 'ere? Which port you lot come through?" His hands rested on his hips, making sure to stand upright and puff his chest out.
"We arrived at Grefleich, sire," said Embla politely, curtseying again as they reached the giant "and we have been travelling for a couple of days to reach you."
"Most things are more pleasant than Kleiber's hills, Lord Guinness."
Laiken replied to the rather large man as he approached and lowered her voice to be at a more sociable volume and followed up on Embla's train of thought.
"She's correct on all regards. We came from Carrefour Station and have spent the last couple days traveling here and drove overland through the hills, picked up one of Kleibers men who tried to steal the box intended for you."
"Yes sir," Wizna said in a practiced tone the others were likely not accustomed to, deeper and professional from her days of addressing superiors in her army days. "He was singing during the ride. I'm certain he will do much more here."
Henry's narrowed eyes darted between the four as they spoke, a hand thoughtfully rubbing his chin. For a brief moment, the boisterous man even looked pensive. After a short pause, Henry ordered his sergeant to standby along with the couriers' personal effects. With one arm, Henry scooped up the package from Wizna and hoisted it onto one shoulder with ease. "You've come a long way to get paid. I'll take you to my burgmann personally. Walk aside me."
Lord Guinness confidently strode to the well-lit corridor on their flank, Wizna instinctively followed. The walls and floors were laden with sturdy stones and metals, decorated by generations of artworks and artifacts. A small handful of disciplined guards wearing regal dress uniforms were scattered about, but they could occasionally catch glimpses of men and women in a much more practical battle dress in the distant shadows and corners.
Once they were out the influence of foreign noise, the noble spoke once again. "That Count Klieber has certainly stopped the other couriers. You three are the only ones to arrive, and not even close to the first I've sent for. I'm sure freeboots like you don't give two shits about politics, but it looks as our Hessiar politics have already taken a liking to you. Entertain me, have your return travel plans changed since you've had to arrest a nobleman's kin?"
The lord gave a brief pause before continuing, keeping them on the rear foot of the conversation. "Given your interest in money and our mutual dissatisfaction with my neighbor, I may have another job for you lot."
"We had no contracts lined up after yours, my lord, and so we would certainly entertain any offer you made us." she said politely, just the barest hint of an innuendo lingering in the words; not because she had any serious intentions, but rather because it had been programmed into her and even after striking out on her own she had found that people reacted better when there was just the faintest touch of intrigue in a conversation - too brazen and people would either be disgusting, shy away, or else get too invested and forget the original subject.
She walked with Wizna and Embla alongside the Hessair Lord wishing to strengthen his domain on this planet. They were being watched, out of the corner of her eye she saw some of the men hidden in the shadows, security in case they tried something? Who knew.
"Embla's right, we don't have much planned for afterward and personally I'd be interested in hearing it.... If I am allowed to ask, what happened to those other couriers? Where their packages recovered?"
Henry lead the group to an open storeroom. The length of the room was lined with crates and shipping containers constructed of clean metal alloys, all with their own inventory displays hovering to the front and sophisticated locking hardware keeping them shut. Seated beside the entrance was an unmanned desk laden with monitors and stacks of disheveled manifests. The large man scoffed, before firmly planting the parcel on a nearby empty counter. If they listened had closely, they could hear him mutter unsavory words about the lack of a watch as well as a fun solution.
"That, you would be the hired help for," The lord turned to face them, once again placing his hands upon his hips and puffing up his posture. "Only my first delivery has made it, and you ladies would appear to be my last. I know that tosser Klieber has been makin' away with my property for some time; 'im and I are going through some contractual disputes at the moment. Given the King doesn't have time for our petty disagreement, I need some discretionary help to repossess my belongings.... Now I'd wallop him myself," He paused to lean against the counter, "But I'd be willing to pay you twentyfold what you're making right now to be on hand for me for a few errands."
She glanced over at Wizna and Laiken, her gaze stopping only momentarily on the disorganised desk. She had to stop herself automatically parsing what she could see and extrapolating it into an inventory database, but the mere sight of such chaos and lackadaisical record-keeping caused her an almost physical pain
Laiken stepped asisde from the rest of the group when they entred the storeroom littered with material. This was no single man buying a few delicate curios from time to time to decorate the walls, this was either hoarding or for something greater.
She approached one of the glass cases and bent over to get a clear look of it up close with some wide eyes curiosity and muttered under her breath.
"What are these things?"
"Sounds dangerous, Laiken," Wizna replied, looking down in careful thought. "I don't think those ambushers were chumps, just unlucky. Good money, but we could get ventilated pretty good..."
The case Laiken peered into was a well lit sphere of Halostone, suspended perfectly still in midair with not a single ripple or imperfection on its silver surface. A fist-sized amount; likely half the principle cost of the Brass Knob. In the case next to it, an ornate trident, surrounded by a gentle blurry outline in the form of a prismatic rainbow and resting on a set of secure stands. There were many others, equal amounts mundane and extravagant in appearance in the cases that were actually glass. Upon any further inspection, they would have been able to tell it was no ordinary glass case, but transparent and advanced alloys able to suspend the more volatile items in the appropriate conditions to maintain integrity.
"Some trinkets, some tools," Henry crossed his arms, approaching the Laiken, "Things I can use to bring my neighbors to a more agreeable position. I have lofty goals, one of my first, more humble ones, being to get thugs off the roads." He made sure to looked between the three, using inflection to enunciate his last few words.
"So what would you even have us do? I'm the only gunner here, sir. We might be scrappers, but not soldiers," Wizna spoke matter-of-factly.
"I'm not asking for a soldier to man a post," Henry said, "The regiments I raise to sell abroad and the guards I have are well more than enough for that. I need people who can get a job done, without my paperwork. I need someone to track down my other belongings and the fates of their messengers, and preferably to return them to me." He uncrossed his arms and stuck his thumbs in his belt behind the buckle, assuming more forward body language.
He continued, "Twentyfold is negotiable. Perhaps you have some creditors? It is a bit of a debtor's economy, these days."
She had seen Wizna's hesitation and knew that if Wizna was cautious, she probably had a reason. Gunfights were not their speciality, and they did not want to commit to some kind of mercenary warpath, but if they agreed rewards for the missing objects they could seek them out at their leisure. Judging by Kleiber's previous shenanigans, it would not be quite as hard as breaking into the Imperial Palace or Triarch headquarters.
Laiken was still around looking at the translucent display cases and the esoteric objects inside. She did not respond back to Lord Guinness at first when he explained them, more favoring to take a good look at his trinkets. The mention of creditors peaked her interest again.
"So its something off the books and searching for whats lost... And on top of it getting Triarch off our back. I'm down for it, what say you Wizna?"
The lord interjected into their conversation after having listened to their complaints, "I cannot guarantee a safe job, as much as I'd guarantee the fate of a trespasser on my own private property. The fool have confused my rightful property as their own and will probably treat it as such. What I can guarantee you is ten percent of the total up front to keep you on call. I'll get you a list, information, and let you do this how you see fit on a timeline. Eh?"
She nodded in agreement, not needing to say anything in addition.
Laiken backed away from the boxes of strange items that could not be entirely interpreted and walked back over to the rest of the group and towards Lord Guinness. Hopefully Heinrech was alright back on the ship.... He was missing out on quite a business proposistion at the moment. Thats the crucial detail, money.
"What is this 10% of?"
It was good money, but bad lands before them. Wizna mused it was either this or scraping petty bounties and getting her nose shattered in trashy bars. Regardless, the journey before them was a stark contrast from the ship interiors and false environments they were used to. The majority of their marks had gone missing while travelling north, as opposed to the mountain ranges that their crew had taken. This had taken the dozen or so scattered souls through the aptly-named Rotlands; air so thick one couldn't cut it with a knife and sprawling bogs that did good work to turn unimproved roads into paste. The putrid scents permeated through the air; muck being overturned for the first time in decades or the hint of distant desiccation.
Fortunately for Wizna, it was still cold enough to be bearable, aside from the sticky feeling on her skin and the armada of bugs that showed the utmost perseverance. Leaned against their truck, she was smoking if for nothing more than to find the smallest insect deterrent.
They had left some time ago; all of their marks were due south and it was best to stay off the main routes. Down their way they would be able to find a few sizable settlements and numerous bayou towns. The Rotlands outside of these bastions of organized civilization were virtually lawless and apparently difficult to police; the region was ruled by a Baron Ross, who made a habit of placing his bets on protecting the communities moreso than the backroads and wilderness.
Wizna held up her bulky tablet in her off hand, bringing their laundry list up. The information they had was both the items and the known fate of their couriers.
-
Chor Velnym, a Pordish craftsman who was found shot dead by high-caliber rifles just outside of the city limits of Vanyal, much further south where it began to freeze over. Chor was carrying a chunk of refined Keralite, which was going to be used to reinforce the systems within the Lord's facilities. Just this alone could make someone unbelievably rich.
Cara Reeves, a senior gun and ex-pirate was found by trappers in the swamps near Blide to the east; her vague remains only identified by personal effects after being assuredly found by wildlife. She was tasked with moving a set of Nightstone personal equipment, more than likely by vehicle.
Karytus Morera, a would-be adventurer from Carnaith; a young rich kid whose first trip was cut short. He was found a few weeks ago at the crack of dawn, eyes plucked and hung by the neck in the square of Drelin, a lake town due west from them. His package was an aurastone ring; apparently used to bend the wills of the less psionically-inclined as the wearer wished.
Alexandros Stratelis was the only unconfirmed courier not only nearby, but on their entire list. An older man; a Capitolite deserter from a time long past. Hydra Guard, on leave during the Celefra nuclear raid. He was last seen in Drelin as well. Stratelis had disappeared following a bar being set ablaze and a firefight with a group of masked individuals. He was charged with a small Visone information node; the details of which were not listed in the report.
Wizna was worried; these all obviously screamed of trouble, but all they had to do was play this smart; or instead, barely make loan payments for the next thirty years. She drew one more breath of her roll, wishing for a moment there was a little more kick in it than the mundane herbs. She dropped it onto the ground and stomped it into the wet mud. "Well guys, how do you want to sort this? Distance? Price? Vibes?"
----------
Grefliech Spaceport
The days had passed quietly in the shuttle bay, though communication was shoddy at best. The loudest sounds were ambient; the muffled roaring of ships braking towards the port or heading off to their lane in order to blast out of orbit and back to the stars. Through the thick metal of the walls and the shut bay-door-roof above, the pitter-patter of rain and dripping of water appeared to overshadow the bellowing of spaceborne engines.
The hangar was dull grey, with several exits to include bay doors large enough to fit ground vehicles through onto a main causeway. The lighting was bland and cold, doing no justice to the rust spots, crates, and tools cluttered about. Situated in the center was the only nice looking object in there; the shuttle that probably had a lien more expensive than the entire bay.
In contrast to the days of silence, the wide blast doors shot open with a grinding crash. A dozen Hessair soldiers immediately poured through the opening, sprinting into position in a wide arc around the shuttle. They all rushed to a knee, shouldering their large-caliber rail-assisted rifles at and around the craft. Each soldier wore bandoleers over their practical uniforms, acting as a show-of-force for the sizeable projectiles that their guns were fed. Behind the firing squad, their sergeant stood with a pistol in one hand and a small device held to his mouth in the other.
“Heinrich Habermann,” The sergeant spoke and his voice came over the room’s intercom, “By order of Herzog Hauschka, vested authority by the King, you are being placed under arrest for enabling and abetting criminal activity throughout Kortende! Surrender peacefully and I can guarantee your personal safety!”
A week of silence was all Henrich needed to setup shop and get a cash windfall for his cybernetics projects. A quick ad on the anc-net for simple off the counter drugs that were prohibitively expensive on world being sold on the cheap. A handful of people turned into a steady stream two days afterwards, with orphans and other children running various errands for the workink man.
Things got wierd three days ago when a sergeant of the local militia showed up. Wanting innocuous off the shelf headache pills before approaching Heinrich later for a 'special order' Koning helpfully identified 173 symptoms of prolonged daily drug use in the man so as to assuade Henrichs worries, whilst providing the optimal route to 'big kash'
---------------
(The present)
"Heinrich Habbermann" the intercoms blared, Heinrich and the sergeant were roughly 37 hours into a poker game that had seen chess and monopoly pieces strewn across the hanger.
"By order of Herzog Hauschka.." the firing squad lined themselves taking aim at what appeared to be a makeshift field hospital. Bright blue foldable cotton walls obscured the very much open cargo bay ramp(will change this detail).
"..vested authority by the king.."
After 20 hours of poker, the Sergent insisted the doors be opened and the game be taken outside the ship because he was'freaking out about the little men and needed to know he can leave' .
Unintelligible cursing came from within the blue walls as "surrender peacefully" was aired through the intercom.
Henrich was rolling on the floor, shin clutched and makeshift table hurled to the side in anger, "JA VAZ IST ZIS RABBLE" followed by more cursing,
The sergent was clumsily fumbling for his overcoat and arm, while attempting to hurriedly pick up his winnings and pocket them before evacuating the soon to be tent of swiss cheese."
The last thing Heinrich heard from the man before he darted our with his hands up announcing his name and rank loudly to the assembled hessairs was 'I'll take care of this" or at least that's what he thought he heard.
The shuttle bay was quickly becoming noisy
Laiken stated as she looked out of the open window and was constantly keeping out an open eye for what else might lurk beyond outside in this mud filled hell. She much prefered the ships interior to this and was looking for something to cover her face to try and keep out the smell. There was a strip of cloth in the bag she brought along that she wrapped around the lower part of her head for now.
"Mind if I take a look?"
The Keplerite took the datapad out of Wizna's hands and began to pour over the list of names and what was known about them... All of them were goners except for potentially one, one that could potentially be still alive. Finding one that was alive quickly would be better than running across him dead later.
"I say we go find this Alexandros, seems to be a real piece of work being involved in Capitol and all that, but he could still be alive. We already know where the others are and can backtrack to them later."
She slapped at a blood-sucking insect automatically - although she had no blood and even her skin was hard and metallic, they still annoyed even her. The stench too had been so overpowering that she had switched off her olfactory sensors for a while. Modelled on a biological brain, she found the same things repugnant and disgusting as everyone else, but at least she was in a position to do something about it.
Her metal visor scanned the horizon, such as it was. Gnarled trees, thick undergrowth and deathly-still water covered in algae and detritus.
"Whoever we pick, we should do it quickly so we can leave this place." she said, a faint hint of disgust in her voice.
Wizna took another drag of the roll in her mouth, the acrid sting of smoke lingering in the air. Her eyes narrowed, a combination of the involuntary reaction to the smoke and being vexed by the variety of choices before them. "All of these people were straight-up murdered," She flatly stated.
It did not delight her that their best lead was the Inarist death squad commando, either. If only that guy was the one drawn and quartered and not some Carnaithian kid. For a moment, she felt exceptionally grounded. Was any of this worth any amount of money? The stakes here were growing and they were sure to pass a point of no return. "You guys, fair warning. If you're down, I'm down. This is good money, but we know this is going to get sketchy."
The woman looked between the others, finishing off the cig and flicking it away. She swallowed, feeling it was an awkward time to try and share the gravity; more for her own sake than just for the others. “What happened to the others is a warning to us; we might have to fight someone off.”
---
GREFLIECH SPACEPORT, SHUTTLE BAY
From outside of the cloth walls, Heinrich could hear the altercation between the Hessairs clear as day. He heard the very brief argument between the two sergeants. He heard the slam, thuds, and metal rattling of a very sudden arrest. He also heard the clear and confident command for the rifle squad to take aim.
“Mr. Habbermann,” The same voice called out, audibly more annoyed than before, “I will gladly walk you out of here or drag you out in a bag; perhaps I shall start counting!”
The sergeant had no intent of initiating a gunfight, hopefully succeeding a bluff before he had to send men in to physically seize the doctor. His orders of not harming him were very clear and particular.
---
KLIEBER ESTATE
“Send them in.”
The uniformed man wordlessly stepped out of the study at the behest of those words. The room was wide, tall, and dimly lit by beads of light running across the exotic material in the bricks making up the floor and wall. The light was a reddish-orange; gentle on the eyes and leaving ample shadows to contour the details of the room. Seated on the far end of the room, opposite of the entryway, was now the sole occupant.
At a desk, behind a panel of translucent displays showing text, places, and faces, was a scrawny man, aged past the better part of his life. The lines on his face were deep, sculpting a permanent frown onto his clean-shaven jaw.
Count Klieber had lost accountability of some of his preferred jobbers and needed a new hand. Hearing the sound of the solid door slide open, he looked up to see the same uniformed guard ushering in a new entrant.
"We have to start somewhere," Embla replied. "I am relatively durable and we are not entirely helpless."
Embla still did not have a concrete idea of what she wanted to do with her life. Ever since leaving domestic employment, she had more or less been wandering, simply wanting to experience and see as much of the universe as possible, but in the back of her mind she knew that she had no savings, no possessions, no equity and no credit. She needed money if she wanted to continue her independence, and the risks entailed in Lord Guiness' treasure hunt to her were preferable to the threat of a return to mundane drudgery.
There was a moment in ones life when you needed to make a choice, take the step forward into a rather dangerous, yet rewarding future. Or sit on a mountain of debt for a good chunk of ones life. Laiken chose the former. She looked back at the tablet and the list of names and then over to Wizna and Embla
"Lets do it. Alexandros is the first on the list right?"
It vas such a lively unt lively day. Heinrich was playing strip poker with his new lady friend, letting her win naturally, as Koning had suggested. There vas a knock on the cotton valls, and the frauline got up to answer the door, only to dash out!
HEinrich attempted to follow, clumsily stumbling over the table, spreading the cards and poker chips across the deck of the spaceport, the mess had scattered from beneath the cotton walls of Heinrichs man-hospital? A flash of white light assailed heinrichs senses as his head impacted the steely floor, and a small pool of red mixed with neon blue coolant, freezing the wound shut instantly, the sharp sensation bringing henrich into a very unfamiliar room as the wooden walls faded into the dingy off-blue cotton and gun metal grey floor that was quickly becoming frozen to the touch.
mrfrfesrcf, Heinrich looked upwards as an alien, almost imperceptible voice sped through the air of the room mmgrrrghbnenetvbvberttv!.: "Vasssssss...." the syllabils slipped from his lips unconsciously in a moment that stretched on for an uncomfortably long amount of time, before a very familiar voice assisted Henrich in his time of need Attentionne Soldia Koning had begun to command heinrichs brain as his body was no longer responsible.
Heinrich pushed himself to his feet, the skin on his right hand ahereing to the frozen bulkhead and peeling freely with a squelching noise, Koning suppressed heinrichs pain receptors as the German righted himself unsteadily. His artificial arm was pointed upwards, a small pneumatic hiss would be audible in response to the Sergents ultimatum, followed shortly by 5 digits and an arm up to the shoulder were launched neumatically like some comedic joke mortar a teenage may purchase at a novelty shop.
Glancing down at the glass table and his reflection, Kristiedes took a few deep breaths, then nodded at the man who had signaled that he was to go in. Stepping through the door, he cut something of a dashing figure in a gleaming, if battered breastplate over a tunic and pants. Inscribed on the bracers on his wrists were blocky lines of Poleisic script, that, if one had cared to translate them, would have listed his battle honors as a hoplite in service to one of the countless city-states. The rest of him was equally impressive, from dark hair pulled up in a braid, to green eyes and the build of a man who had seen years of war.
Stopping before the desk, he sketched a short bow. "Greetings, good sir. I understand you were looking to employ an adetopole?"
The Count did not rise from his seat, simply watching the entrant in a detached gaze. He let Kristiedes' question hang in the air for a moment before addressing him in return.
"Correct, young man," Klieber said, studying both the man and his mannerisms. A dressed and decorated barbarian had he ever seen one before; a choice outside of his normal picks. A suitable substitute as it seemed his normal picks were failing him when it had begun to count the most. Klieber could smell the idealism of a young warrior from light years away.
"I can offer you both a great sum of money, and another feat for your collection of tales," Klieber dryly remarked, pushing himself to stand upon his aching old joints. For only a fleeting moment, the old man winced. He produced a metallic binder from his desk, walking and presenting it to the Poleisic warrior in the lighting. "Three individuals have robbed me, murdered my men, and kidnapped my nephew. I have set the authorities upon them, and they yield no results. I want them brought to my court, dead or alive."
Klieber cracked open the binder, revealing three sections of distinct dossiers holding both physical information and digital files. "Wizna Hix, a seasoned gun with no direction. Laiken Holzhauer, a cagefighting wrench-turner, and some android they swindled along the way. I need them stopped as they're hunting the last of my men as we speak."
---
ROTLANDS
It seemed they had reached the consensus; the dangerous work was worth the money. It occurred to Wizna that being a hired gun was part and parcel of travelling this galaxy; perhaps it was inescapable for those who desired more. The development doubled her resolve on being the group watchdog; as the gun, she proactively accepted all responsibility for everything that would happen from here on in. Regardless, the discussion of their lives' purpose was better had while in high orbit sitting on a mountain of gold on a vessel they owned.
Their search and investigation had led them to a few small hamlets who directed them towards passing vagabonds and other foreigners. One fitting Alexandros' description was identified, and they were referred to a location where locals suspected he was hiding out.
A region of diminutive hills to their south dressed with dense, low-handing willow trees; within this forest was an old temple, long-since forgotten from common use and riddled with superstition. The path to it was overgrown, but still defined and maneuverable. It was late afternoon when Wizna cruised their truck through, parking it at the edge of a clearing where they could make out the large structure.
In the center of the forest clearing, nested on the plateau of the wide hill the traveled on, was a weathered stone structure. It was tall, with a set of double doors with one side slightly ajar inward. There was no light coming from the inside, nor windows lining any side of the building. In front of the stone building was the remains of a campsite; a small pile of charcoal with the slightest hint of smoldering and a handful of rubbish about it.
Wizna silently cursed. Time to convince the greenback we are his friends.
"You guys ready?" Wizna threw her door open, reaching towards the center to scoop up her shotgun, "Lead the way. I'll watch."
She slipped on her tactical glasses, cursory scans revealing no signals outside of the bugs and small game.
---
GREFLIECH SPACEPORT, SHUTTLE BAY
The sergeant of the troops lining the bay door was cut off only moments before giving the order to fire. He listened to the clamoring behind the screen. He watched an indecent woman scurry off to the shadows, followed by his target stumbling out unarmed. He watched Heinrich simply point at him, and watched, as if in slow motion and unable to react, as the arm detached from Heinrich and collided with his jaw. The sergeant's weapon clattered on the ground, followed by his limp body as he was knocked unconscious.
One of the younger soldiers readied his weapon to fire, before receiving a firm slap to the back of his skull that knocked his hat loose. The corporal who had struck him was infuriated, but knew this would be a clean capture. “Oi! ‘e’s lost an arm! Fack ‘im up and cuff’m!”
His subordinates wasted no time engaging the safeties on their guns, shrugging, and charging Heinrich with the intent of beating him senseless with their hands, batons, and butts of their rifles.
Embla reached for the handgun she had been equipped with by Lord Guiness' seneschal. At first she had been reluctant, but Guiness had insisted in a fatherly way, full of concern, until eventually she had acquiesced. Wizna had given her a crash course in how to use it, aided by Embla's inbuilt hand-eye co-ordination, but still she did not seem enthused by it.
She slipped it into the holster at her hip then threw her coat on, concealing it, and followed Wizna into the clearing, overtaking her and gingerly approaching the double doors. She leaned around and peeked through the narrow crack...
From one miserable looking and frozen cold mountain pass, and now to a far more applicable ruin in an obviously neglected part of the country in search of their potentially alive missing man seemed a lot more promising than mucking around in the snow. Laiken liked these forests, they seemed forgotten about. A bit like their old capitolite man they were in search for.
Laiken got out of the truck and finished putting on a simple set of chest armor she got from Lord Guinness over her turtlenecked shirt, a trusty shotgun, and a flashlight, she followed Wizna up to the clear campsite in front of the ruins and looked inwards at them.
"If there's one place to run away too, its in there. I've got the light, girl I really did set myself up to go in first didn't I."
She turned on the light and took the first few cautious steps into the front door of the ruins after giving it a careful look over.
As the other two entered the double doors, the Minevan tried to ascertain a sound aside from the wind blowing. She heard nothing.
The room Laiken had lit up was mostly stone tile and bore no windows, making her torch look as if it was lighting up a cave system. The walls were lined with burned out lights and worn metal paneling; the place was wired with electronics but smelled of mold and age. On their left were a few rows of benches, the last one shattered halfway through and splintered into dozens of pieces. Centered on the far end of the room was an empty podium. In the deep corner furthest from them, the group would be able to notice a gentle staircase leading down a long hall, before eventually obscuring to a corner and shadows.
Most concerning, however, was the improptu campsite lining the wall. A military pack and sleeping bag not sharing the dust of the room sat open. At the foot of the bedroll was a high-quality weapons case propped open as well as a worn out digital tablet.
The weapons case showed them the warning of a hollow cutout of a long gun, but one of the spaces of travel foam was still occupied with a red flag to those who could properly identify it; an expended battery pack of a tachyon rifle.
Down the corridor, a faint series of clicks and latches greeted them, before echoing to silence.
The first place to start with anything like this was bounty postings. Individuals as chaotic and violent as these three would inevitably leave a trail of angry and wronged people behind them. Plus, there wasn't any law about collecting the same bounty from multiple people, and if the morons were stupid enough to piss off enough people to rack up a collective total of...He leaned back from the computer screen and whistled at the total staring him in the face. That was...quite a lot of money. It didn't quite all add up to what the old man was offering, but it was certainly impressive. It would take a fair bit of legwork to get it all, but that would be fine. Humming to himself, he set the program he was using to run a search for the newest bounties and got up to get himself a sandwich. Aosa willing, he'd leave this world a very wealthy man.
She did not want to disturb it, it felt wrong. When she turned the light down the hall and saw the ever descending darkness leading down the staircase she waved a spare hand for the other two to follow her down it.
"I-I don't like this... Only way is down."
"Tachyon battle rifle, model CFA-100. Medium range selectable fire." she announced to no-one in particular, before picking up the tablet and, after cautiously scanning it for viruses and traps, beginning to root around.
"I have some maps and other tactical data here. It looks like our friend Alexandros has been quite active." she said, straightening and tucking the datapad into one of her voluminous coat pockets before taking her pistol in both hands and following Laiken down the staircase. Suddenly a pair of shotguns and a handgun did not seem quite as formidable an arsenal as they had a few moments prior...
The new information was concerning, but there were still a lot of unknowns.
"I can take the front, hun," Wizna offered, expressing concern for her friend taking point. She had hushed her tone, realizing her heart was beginning to pump. Her mind showed her a reel of memories long repressed; she had never seen a tachyon wound firsthand but had most assuredly been barraged with the images in training to shock her senses. Wizna blinked and shook her head. They were just here to find Alexandros as a missing courier.
The stairs bottomed out, offering two corridors on the right wall.
'... worth the money... hunters,' A cocky male voice was muffled from behind the first door, speaking loudly and with urgency.
'Soon, now... that ring,' A second speaker chimed in; a much grittier voice, more than likely a product of decades of heavy smoking.
Several sets of footsteps could be heard behind the first door, travelling in various directions and some fading away. Doors could be hear being latched, objects being moved around on the stone floor. The second door at the end of the long hall was cracked open, showing another dark room. Wizna had squeezed by, now intently focused. With her weapon at the ready she began scanning the opening.
Little by little, she had quietly revealed the next room. A memorial flanked by two coffins were on their left side, the room decorated by murals of crustaceans and the sea. At the far end on their right, another door. Fixed at the foot of the raised altar was a modern-looking crate, with a glowing green display fixed on its face notifying the viewer it was locked.
---
DRELIN
The bounties Kristiedes found were not as significantly paying as his private investor, but here and there he would have been able to find slight inconsistencies; minor differences detailing events and various charges they had received. Strangely enough, bounties and formal news postings were the only information on these three available; no scorned parties aside from Klieber himself in person having put forward disparaging stories about the three fugitives.
The reports on the trio correlated directly with their arrival on this world, along with a fourth associate being listed as 'arrested' at Grefliech. Aside from that, the women had spotless records.
Kristiedes' hunt would direct him to Drelin, a town where a courier of Henry Guinness was ceremoniously murdered and another courier driven off to the hills. There was a posse beginning to form as a small crowd before the constabulary giving a lively oratory. Armed men, many frumpy and out of shape, had brought their massive break-action rail rifles and were evidently prepared to orchestrate a hunt.
Henrich meanwhile turned tail, disappearing behind the plains cloth and began his slow retreat into the shuttle. Lacking smoke grenades to throw down, he settled on an emergency flair which he promptly cracked and hurled towards the charging troops.
Koning was kind enough to feed more sensory data to Hrnrochs brain to compensate -- partially-- temporarily blinded left eye. With a mind reeling from a chemical cocktail three days in the making and basically 0 depth perception, Henrich stumbled towards the flight commands, mostly on all 3's.
Laiken said back to Embla after continuing down the stairwell, she clutched onto her shotgun with the two organic hands as the synthetics held onto the flashlight. When Wizna took point, she breathed a small sigh of relief of not potentially being the first one through the door to a possibly waiting rifle blast.
The Keplerite stopped momentarily when she heard the voices coming off from the intercom... She remembered from reading up on Alexandros, that he was seen as being taken. Was this one of the kidnappers?
"Is that him?" Laiken whisphered to her two compatriots. When she sweeped open into the room with the coffins and the box in it. She decided to go over to the boxes and peeked over to it but did not touch it.
Gravel crunched under the car's tires as Kristiedes rolled to a stop in the parking lot, threw the truck in park, and hopped out. Eyeing the would-be posse cautiously, he reached into the back and grabbed his spear and shield. Not looking for trouble, but with the way these people were riled up, it didn't hurt to be careful, and overconfidence had killed more mercs than any enemy.
He'd gone over the reports on the way here, and to be perfectly honest, something smelled wrong. If the targets were even half as bad as the old man had made them out to be, there would've been a string of murders, assaults, and thefts all across the planet, and even other worlds. And yet...nothing. Just official documents. The local Ancnet forums were silent on the topic as well, aside from a few posts that had so obviously been started by bot scripts that it was painful to look at. Hefting the shield and holding the spear at a casual angle, he walked over to the gathering.
"Well met, fellows. What is the purpose of this muster here?"
Easing the lid open from the side, she was surprised to realise she was immediately able to categorise the object within. Although it appeared to be a boardgame, looking perhaps like tafl or brandubh, the central king's square was made out of some kind of glittering rock. The pieces were otherworldly, with the defenders appearing to be some kind of near-human species picked out in white marble whilst the attackers were carved in black jet and took the form of headless bipeds with stout legs and four clawed arms. The board was inlaid richly, and along the sides was a script Embla did not recognise, picked out in platinum against a dark wood that she also could not place.
The item was clearly of great value, but the platinum intrigued her the most. She had no magical or psionic aptitude but she knew that platinum was often used by practitioners of idshii, and wondered if this was anything to do with that. Whatever it was, Klieber had paid quite a bit for security alone...
The corporal flinched at the hand scurrying his way, mistaking it for a massive insect as he belted out a curse and punted it with all of his might. The other troops, however, were undaunted until the eruption of the emergency flare that gave them all momentary cause for concern. It took only a few seconds for them to realize the distraction.
The group continued their pursuit towards the shuttle, closing the gap behind the doctor quickly though none had made it to the cargo ramp yet. The smartest of the bunch realized Heinrich's intentions, and made a U-turn to book it towards the emergency lever that would seal the massive ceiling hatch of the bay.
---
DRELIN
The townsmen all turned to glare daggers into the newcomer, incredulous estimations plain to see through their exasperated mouths and furrowed brows. The orator giving the rousing speech just moments prior was the one to speak up, representing the uncouth posse.
"Getting the lads together," The lawman spoke in plain common, speaking slowly and deliberately making it clear he only had a shaky mastery of it, "To run off foreign felons and troublemakers. Bunch of couriers and now three deadly criminals come around town and trouble always follows. Are you trouble, mister?"
---
ROTLANDS, RELIQUARY
Wizna froze in place, watching her friend touch off what appeared to be a trap built into the mechanism of the container. Once the threat lie impotent, she made her own approach to accompany Embla and conduct her own, less refined inventory of the object before them. A very fancy board game, she noted. With serious packaging like that, she figured it may be a level beyond just fancy. The intricacies escaped her, reflecting more on the fact they were sharing a dim complex with at least one unknown gunman.
She realized she was white-knuckle gripping her shotgun, forcing herself to relieve the tension.
"Any idea what you got there?"
"I don't know," she said, turning to Wizna, "but I don't think this is just a regular brandubh set. I have no idea what these pieces are meant to represent, but that rock in the middle is ocean hackmanite, commonly mined on Neusattar, and platinum is used in Jado Shinto and Adfira to create magical artefacts."
She hefted the board, heavier than it looked, and peered around the room.
"I think we have a magical artefact on our hands. It looks like Klieber is not just stealing from Lord Guiness..."
The Poleisi hummed under his breath and flicked the power on to his spear. "I suppose that depends somewhat on you." Walking towards the orator, he planted the base of the shield on the ground and leaned on it.
"See, you talk about criminals and felons, but I did some digging...and nobody seems to have a legitimate grievance against them besides the local authorities...all of whom have, shall we say, interesting connections to a Mr. Kleiber by way of quite a bit of campaign donations. Always nice to find an electoral system that keeps clear and honest accounting in such matters.
I've seen quite a bit in my time, wandering as a Adetopolos, and I am sworn to uphold all forms of the law. So please, good sir. Tell me what offense these felons have committed? Where are your victims of their heinous crimes?"
The shouts of the uniformed officers were drowned out by the roaring jets of the shuttle firing up. In space, it would have been silent aside from a gentle hum to the passengers. In the enclosed space, however, the cold start of the jets blasted with enough force to rupture the eardrums of those closest. A few of those that were too close were violently buffeted by the hot wash, along with the various crates and trolleys that littered to bay.
The corporal of the guards shouted as loud as he could muster, still silenced by the shuttle's torches. His warning futile, he grabbed the emergency lockdown switch and slammed the jammed lever down with all of his might. Once the old, never-used mechanism was engaged, the blast-door ceiling began to shut.
Several riflemen were leveling their massive firearms and taking shots at the shuttle. The slugs that didn't go wide managed to take hefty chunks out of the paneling, but did nothing to deter the craft. Heinrich was only focused on racing the shuttle to beat the rapidly-shutting doors into the dwindling sunlight.
His gambit did not pay off. Over the scream of the engines, the gnashing of metal smashing and warping resounding from the collision. The blast-ceiling maintained integrity; the shuttle did not. The small craft cracked under the force, cockpit flattening into the hardened structure of the spaceport. The jets continued to blast full-throttle, which dragged the shuttle to the side bulkhead and riding itself full-force into the deck.
Once the shuttle sloppily crashed in the corner, its outboard engines lost integrity and quickly experienced a meltdown in a spectacular display of alloys glowing, melting, and finally erupting in colorful flames.
-
DRELIN
The lawman looked the peculiar foreigner from head to toe a few times, before his expression fell pensive. He had expected bounty hunters, sure, but not a lawyer with a presentation of information for him.
"I am the authorities, around the parts." He said, firmly, "And recently I have traffic coming through my town looking for these miscreants, newcomers causing trouble of their own now. All of these individuals are wanted for some form of murder, one of them suspected of committing murders in my town here. If you're so keen to find out, I can tell you some are holed up in the old reliquary north of town."
The lawman laughed performatively, obviously a display of machismo for his crowd. "You can ask them yourself, before I form a band and clear them out myself."
-
RELIQUARY
There was loud shuffling in the hallway they had entered from and where Laiken was watching the rear. There was a curse, a short struggle, a rapid series of electrical 'crack's before the door behind them slammed shut. Within the wall they could hear a mechanism engage, locking them from egress.
"Not gonna lie," A man's voice, smooth and young, could be heard from behind the thick door, "Surprised the couriers came to me this time! Hang tight, we're coming for you in a minute."
A chuckle could be heard, then footsteps and dragging fading away.
Wizna drew a deep breath, feeling the beginning stages of adrenaline flow through her as her brain shuffled through fight-or-flight. "We," she muttered. The sweat was already forming on her brow, but her expression stayed cool. The burning in her chest was only paralleled with a sense of guilt over bringing her unfortunate friends here.
Without a word, she held her weapon at the alert and marched to the other exit. Her off hand carefully slid the door to the side, showing another large chamber with an altar at the far end, ornate coffins on the side, and a hasty camp of a couple containers, tables and stools. To the left was a long hallway that went around the outside of the chamber, potentially giving an alternate route around.
From the far end of the room, a rough-looking man in thick leathers with a mohawk sauntered in with a bulky assault rifle, moving towards the altar. He hadn't seen them yet. Wizna's visor identified it as an older Restevian mode; a belt-fed weapon with no optic that had certainly seen better days.
It was time to decide. Wizna looked back to Embla. “Quiet or loud?”
"Quiet? We are on the back foot, so I think anything we can do to confuse these people is worth it."
She cast a glance back towards the door they had entered through. She felt a momentary regret for Laiken, whose body she suspected she had heard being dragged away, but she forced herself to focus on the task at hand, firing up the blowtorch on her wrist as an improvised melee weapon.
The journey to the marked reliquary was no great distance. The improved and populated roads began to be quickly replaced by backroads and bumpy trails as he approached his destination. Unlike the swamps he had travelled through to reach Drelin, he was being taken through a series of woodland and hills, providing cover and concealment on the flanks of the path.
Just a pair of hills short of the reliquary marked on his navigation system there was an anomaly. As the wind blew the trees, some ambient light bled through and reflected off of a wire pulled tight and suspended on the road.
From the bushes, a single nervous-looking man emerged. His right palm was extended towards the truck, gesturing it to halt. His left hand, however, was relaxed at his side with a tight grip on a semi-automatic pistol.
RELIQUARY
Wizna nodded in agreement, head shooting back to the front. Glancing down the side hallway, she saw nothing dangerous. Her gun stayed up and her body moved like a tank, barrel traversing with her head on a swivel. Her shotgun was loaded with fragshot, and her sight was set on the gunner who had still not taken note of them.
The hallway to their left that she had checked went a long way down before snaking out of sight. The large room ahead of them saw new entrants, a pair of riflemen walking hurriedly to meet their associate with the machinegun and gesturing in the girls' direction.
"Alex gottem locked in the endroom, just two girls."
"Fish in a barrel. Easier than that Pord."
"Oh, yes sir. Davey's with Alex. Everyone else is up top, someone tripped the sensors."
"Grab these bitches fast then, before they get lost in that maze. Preferably dead. Then we can split and cash out. What the fuck is Alex doing?"
"He's packing up, dumbass."
Out of sight, he reached over to the passenger seat and tightened his grip on his spear. If need be, he'd just shoot out the window and get the truck repaired later. Better than getting a burst through the face. He'd lost a few comrades to exactly this kind of situation before, where everything seemed just fine, right up until it wasn't. Best to be alert.
She moved a few steps down into the hallway and then stopped, waiting for Wizna
The man's face was wrinkled in worry, maintaining unblinking eye contact with the mercenary. He shook his head slowly side-to-side, pursing his lips.
"Don't know who you are, my friend, but we are all well and handled," He swallowed hard, letting his pistol hand into view while keeping it pointed in a safe direction, "I must ask you turn back the way you came, sir."
RELIQUARY
The ruffian's footsteps were load on the tile behind them, curses of frustration heard echoing down the hall when their initial search was surely fruitless. The pair of debtors had whisked their way down the long hall which bore numerous forks in their path. The small corridors were arranged in a grid, all interconnected and dimly lit.
The walls bore grave markers and murals from a time long-passed; it was evident that their assailants had not travelled to this section as shown by the layer of dust and lack of foreign objects. Distant chatter and the flickering of flashlights began to show, signifying the pair on their trail.
The grid they were in only had one other exit on the far end. Scouting it showed it was another hallway that led to a cluttered path back to the room with the machinegunner, and their only apparent exit just several meters to his rear. The clutter was obstructing the hallway enough to be unwalkable, but certainly traversable with a minor degree of effort.
She carefully took the mysterious board game and set it atop a battered cabinet, keeping it safe as Wizna joined her. They were much closer to the strangers now, and they were most likely still looking the other way; perhaps they should try to overpower them?
She asked all this of Wizna using the holographic projection again, making no sound
-
The mercenary sighed heavily, shaking his head. "I don't suppose I could convince you to let me pass?"When the other man still blocked his way, he sighed again, and out of sight flicked a switch on the spear, then brought it up and fired through the windshield in one smooth motion. A violet pulse of coherent light melted through the glass and lashed at the man, while Kristiedes hit the has and swerved the car a little to avoid running over the man as he accelerated.
Wizna, much less agile than her partner, carefully shuffled through using her off hand to brace herself. She shrugged at the line of inquiry, peaking around the corner and only able to lay eyes on the brute of a gunner but not sure where the others were at. She heard faint steps and voices in the hall behind them, evidently far off but tracing their steps.
They could easily slip out of the door to their left, parallel to the direction they entered the complex.
Embla's question appeared on the inside of her cheap glasses, causing her to regret not investing into better gear.
A notification appear to her; she was still picking up Laiken's device and it was on the move, a pointer directing her at the door and reading thirty meters.
Wizna pointed her shotgun at the gunner's head, trying to remember if she had loaded a slug or large game load. Either will do the trick, she thought as she shot Embla a couple of questioning glances to the man and the door.
KRISTIEDES
The man gasped as the bolt struck him square in the chest, falling on his back. His clothes erupted into flames from the heat transfer of the energy, causing him to devolve into screams and panic. However, the vehicle racing forward ran straight through the wire strung across the road. Muffled by the engine of the vehicle, a trap was triggered. A directional mine detonated at close range towards the bounty hunter's vehicle, sending a wave of pressure, dust, smoke, and projectiles into the road.
Groaning, Kristiedes unbuckled his belt and hauled himself out the passenger window, grabbing his spear and shield as he dusted himself off, then looking at the mangled wreck that had been his truck. Damnation. Better set some of the reward money aside for a new car. Or maybe he'd just bill his employer for that. A couple extra hundred SIGEC wouldn't matter too much to the man. Gripping his shield firmly in one hand, and with spear in the other, he went walking down the road towards the Reliquary.
-
It felt like seconds, minutes, years, and yet the passage of time seemed like nothing but a snap of the finger until Laiken's mind came too, foggy vision began to return and yet this place seemed even more and more familiar. What was this place? This did not seem like the station she last remembered, a waystation off into the Unmar expanse with the merchant marines when her contract finally expired rather than opting to return home to Hilid. What the fuck was going on.
Laiken began to regain some of her strength and saw what it was that was pulling her, a faint outline of what seemed to be a humanoid at least, she tried to reach for a handgun on her waist only to see that there was nothing there before trying to kick off whoever her assailant was. Suffice to say, things were not going as planned.
She locked it by the simple expedient of melting the handle's internals using her blowtorch, fusing it solid, then glanced around her at their new surroundings
The Poleisi mercenary emerged from a treeline shortly, the screams of the man intensifying behind him before stopping altogether. His objective was before him; a modest stone structure with double doors cracked ajar. Though, another anomaly was present in the clearing. A utility truck was parked with its doors open and contents strewn about, obvious someone was rummaging through it hastily.
In the mess he could find some paperwork and identification originating from Carrefour Station. Registration paperwork was on the ground, a dirty bootprint stamped over the names of his marks; Embla-118, Wizna Hix, and Laiken Holzhauer.
The crunch of a branch could be heard to his left, showing another pair of shadows hurriedly rushing through the treeline. From inside the stone structure, he could hear a small scuffle and a stint of shouting.
EMBLA AND WIZNA
There was no indication that their pursuers had taken notice; Embla’s quick thinking and resourcefulness had paid off for now. The room itself was lit in cold light enough to see clearly. Another long hall, but much shorter and complex than what they had already traversed. The corridor that the duo had found themselves in ran northward about twenty meters, clear of obstructions with metal grating set atop the stone floors.
The duo was able to see one door at the opposite end of the hallway, and another along the eastern side. The side door had a rusty locking bar affixed to it; a bulky device fixing the door shut that could be a fair shot to either pick or cut depending on the noise they were willing to make. If either of them had a keen sense of direction, they were able to determine that this door faced eastward towards their entry corridor.
However, from the unlocked northern door, they could hear the distinct noise of heavy dragging on a stone surface. The dragging stopped for a moment, before turning into a hasty scuffle.
-
“Oh, come- ENOUGH!” A man’s voice shouted, followed by an audible thud.
Wizna shot Embla an intense look, her protective instincts drawing her attention to the heavy door. The Minevan motioned her hand towards the frame; a gesture of deference. She was hesitant to pull Embla into any more danger.
LAIKEN
Alexandros was dragging his captive by a single ankle, giving a firm tug at the first sign of resistance. He assumed his cargo had just gotten snagged and resolved to pull her loose, but was surprised by a kick to his midsection. The strike startled him, but not enough to remove his grip.
“Oh, come-“ The man turned to look, before another series of thrashing kicks pulled the leg free from his hand. Alexandros’ other hand was occupied cradling his tachyon rifle. His temper flared immediately, face deforming into a deep scowl.
“ENOUGH!” He barked, channeling his fury to send a powerful kick towards Laiken’s side with everything he had.
The kick connected solidly with her ribcage with a crack of a broken rib and a gasp of pain as she skid across the floor and clenched up. Laiken was lost for what was going on here, lost in this strange labirynthian place with her captor. It seemed like there were other sounds nearby, potential help in the fog?
She stood, took several swift but quiet steps towards the door, and at the last moment accelerated into a sprint, barging straight through the door. She located the standing man immediately, spotting the rifle cradled in one hand, not yet ready to fire but still potentially lethal, and continued her run, diving towards him. As her heavy frame barrelled towards a collision, she reached out with one hand to grab the rifle, locking her fingers around it and attempting to gain control of it before he could gather it into a firing position
-
Kristiedes finished riffling through the discarded papers, then picked them all up, folded them, and tucked them inside his vest. He'd go over them in more detail later, but he was definitely in the right place. His head shot up at the sound of the breaking branch, and he spun on his heel, bringing his shield up, and holding his spear at the ready. Glancing around at the disturbed foliage, he weighed his chances out in the open against pushing into the building.Grimacing, he backed towards the open doors, and with one last look around, then turned and pushed through the double doors, shield leading the way with spear leveled across the top. Stopping briefly inside, he pushed the doors closed and gave it an extra shove to try and hold it shut, even for a moment before he continued, peering into the building as he advanced.
Wizna was in the door right behind her. As much as she wanted to dogpile the assailant, she instead aimed her gun deeper into the room as muscle memory had taught her. The man was dangerous, but more so was the risk of multiple ambushers being overlooked. Only after her swift and professional sweep was she able to register Laiken writhing on the ground, and Embla trying to wrest a tachyon rifle from a rough-looking man.
Embla's strength was met with surprisingly firm resistance; Alexandros' own was evidently largely artificial. Unable to regain full control of his weapon, he began emptying the charge pack to hopefully disorient or shock them. He was pulling the trigger as fast as he could, filling the dim room with yellow flashes and the sound of thunder, cratering entire chunks of rubble from the ceiling. The barrel grew warm, and was swiftly getting hot.
Unlike his discount-skilled ganger, this man did not carry the air of an unperceptive slouch. His body was trained and refined, eyes cold and predatory. Gaze locked on Embla's face, he brought his front leg up and kicked her midsection with the force of a small car. He let go of the dry tachyon rifle, instead drawing Laiken's sidearm that he had tucked in his waistband.
Alexandros jerked his head, cracking his neck. He was well-built, artificial parts concealed by his cold weather clothing, with a bald skull that told the story of his outlandish lifestyle. Scars and tattoos; the most prominent of which was a burning world with a sword gouging it on his right cheek.
Wizna did not hesitate to fire the slug from her shotgun square into his chest as soon as Embla was clear; a textbook drill. She pumped the action, he staggered to the rear. The impact had made a sound of dull metal, making Alexandros do little more than wince before her offered a few rounds from his pistol in return. She had painfully hit the prone behind one of the many cargo containers that filled the room.
-
“Crafty lot- let’s calm down now, yeah?”
-
KRIS
The wide double doors had clicked shut; they were noisy enough to serve as an early detection system by his estimation.
The mercenary had found the same scene that his marks did earlier; the entry room of the structure was a campsite that was recently lived in. Full packs, sleeping systems, empty weapons cases and containers of food were spread about, but not a soul to be found. There was a staircase in the back that led downwards and into darkness, but the shouting had now evidently evolved into a thirty-round burst from a very forceful energy weapon.
Both doors he could find at the end of the stairs were barred and jammed by some mechanism; with the appropriate gear he figured he could perform a couple time-consuming ways to clear the way, whether it be a digital bypass, a mechanical breach, or cut of the locking bars that were externally barring the doors into the wall.
Grabbing his shield and bracing himself, he surged forward, knocking the door out of position and sending it flying down the short hall that was now revealed. Faintly in the distance he could hear the sound of gunshots and fighting. Doing a quick double check to make sure no one had been alerted by his racket, he hurried down the hall, his boots thumping on the cold stone as he went.
-
Though, this particularly murderous looking brute spraying a tachyon rifle in such a small space seemed to be a much greater concern than the other two strange women in the room. She looked around for anything to try and kill this man while on the ground... That did not seem to be the case, maybe reason could be tried, albeit strained.
"Who the hell are you?"
Scrambling to her feet, she sent her little drone zipping into the air above them, where it hovered and wiggled distractingly. She herself held the heavy rifle uncertainly, as if preparing to hurl it, but froze at his words.
"Don't you know? Alexandros: you three found me. A robot, freak, and a dog. Sounds like a bad joke." Alexandros scoffed at the question, keeping the smoking pistol up and taking turns aiming between Wizna's cover and Embla. His keen ears picked up a distant rumble, though he could not discern the source. He supposed it could be his hired help showing some initiative after he dumped an entire magazine, but no one came.
"Last time I saw one of your kind they were hanging on Outeria. A pleasure to meet you- Ms. Hix, is it? You three picked the wrong job. Your little game of pretend is over," He spoke coldly.
Wizna grimaced, waiting for him to aim at Embla again before nailing him center-mass with another slug. Again he stumbled, but he darted back for cover behind a bundle of tall crates and out of sight.
KRIS
The corridor he stood in yielded no surprises, and as he crashed through the next door the next corridor was the same. The only difference was on his left, there was a truly reinforced door; the sound of the fight was less faint, but it would take some serious equipment and a bit of effort to get through it. If he took the time, he would have been able to conduct the breach.
Instead, Kris found an unlocked door on the other side of the hallway; it slid open with a hiss and closed with a distinct click. The room was square and very wide, with another door on the opposite end.
As he entered the threshold of the room, there was a dead stillness in the air and an obvious change in pressure.
There was another loud click. Kris would notice very quickly that he was experiencing weightlessness. An unseen force had given him a tug towards the center of the room, pulling his feet off of the ground. He had heard of and likely encountered these in the past; an anti-gravity field.
After a few short moments, he began experiencing another sensation; a dull ache in his chest.
-
Laiken blurted out angrily after the strange white haired lady struck him center of mass again with a shotgun. With a final wince of pain Laiken stood up with her pair of extra robotic arms dangling down from the two synthetic stumps, she unlatched one of them and holding it by the wrist with the jointed elbow dangling below as a club.
With a pained limp she started to get after Alexandros but he got in cover before she could try and club him.
“Make that a man with two holes.”
"Are you injured?" she asked, concern in her voice. She flashed to Wizna with her holographic projector: "CAN DISTRACT HIM WITH DRONE" as she spoke.
She flashed Embla a thumbs-up and an obnoxious nod, seeing the drone fluttering about and finding its mission.
There was some shuffling behind a stack of crates, indicating that Alexandros was on the move throughout the room. The cyborg lifted one of the metal containers and effortlessly hurled it towards the trio.
It was enough to keep Wizna down for a moment, before she leapt over her own cover towards her wounded friend. She hit the ground with a 'thud' and scurried over to Laiken. "Hey doll- you with us right now?"
KRIS
A few painstaking moments crept by, and Kris could feel the physical sensations intensifying. He was still suspended weightlessly in the center of the room, as well as the tingle in his lungs transmuting into a full burn. Through the onset of the pain, Kris would experience a familiar metal taste. Drops of scarlet were escaping his airway with each waning breath he drew.
She watched, waiting for Wizna to be ready
"I don't know who you are, but I think that snotrag broke some ribs."
She winced slightly as she tried to reposistion herself around to face Wizna.
"Next time he pops up, shoot him in the face. The ones to the chest don't seem to be slowing him down."
-
Coughing and spitting out a string of blood that drifted in the air, he fired again and kept firing, trying to use the continuous recoil to send himself out of the room entirely.
-
"Harder than it looks," Wizna remarked, feeding more shells into the shotguns magazine tube. She looked to Embla from her crouched position, giving an affirmative nod before popping up and shooting. After her third shot, Alexandros exposed himself and returned fire with the pistol. His fire was remarkably fast and accurate, letting loose a volley of bullets at Wizna. One projectile bounced off of a metal crate and nicked her upper arm.
The wound was no more than a scratch, but enough to scare her shitless and put her back in cover.
There was a momentary lull, followed by a metal object hitting the ground across the room; a magazine dropping to the floor.
KRIS
The mercenary's attempts bore fruitful, a series of bolts launching him through the door on the opposite side of the room and free of the field. He dropped to the deck and the automatic door clicked shut behind him. The burning in his lungs persisted, but did not intensify further.
Ahead of him was a short hall and a left turn. He could hear the sounds of a gunfight getting closer, but another more immediate noise presented itself. A series of clicks, a deep scrape of metal, and punctuated by a chirpy 'beep-beep'. At the end of the hallway rested in the corner was a sentry turret, which only delayed a short moment to identify Kris as unknown and begin spewing a tidal wave of bullets his way.
Laiken remarked, she stayed huddlef firmly behind cover and out of the line of fire, trying desperately to not get hit by the incoming mass of gunfire. One of the bullets had sent Wizna back to the ground, a grazing shot by the looks of it, Laiken tried to see what it was and try to help out as much as she could in this hectic brawl.
"Is it bad?"
-
-
"Could be worse," was Wizna's swift reply. In all actuality, she had not registered or examined the wound, taking her ability to use the limb as a good sign enough. The woman reached into a loose pocket, grabbing a handful of blue-colored shells; more slugs that she loaded into her shotgun.
Alexadros had been distracted by the drone plenty, seeing the android charging him and unable to sort through both targets. The tachyon rifle impacted with a 'TING!', metal of the weapon connecting solidly with his augmented body. The burly man lost grip of the pistol as his cybernetics momentarily malfunctioned.
His response was a deadly gambit. A metal clunk and the powerful sound of hydraulics could be heard as his arms shot ahead at inhuman speeds. Alexandros robotics were military-grade, faster than a blink and hands strong enough to crush armor. He went to grab her arms with a death grip, but settled for anything that he could reach.
KRIS
The onslaught of the turret was cut short in the exchange, experiencing a brief malfunction from the initial volley. Its rate of fire slowed down to erratically short bursts as its feeding system was damaged, shown by a trail of smoke and flashy sparks.
-
Laiken saw an opportunity in the momentm likely not a very good idea, but in a time between life and death quick thinking and reaction mattered most. Seeing that Alexandros was busy trying to wrestle with Embla, Laiken broke off in a pained and fractured rib sprint to snatch up the machine of a mans pistol off the ground.
In a vain hope to end things here and now, she tried to shoot him in the back of the head under the influence of risky business and the need to end things now.