“Thanks, bud. You hiding at the bottom of the ravine until they had their fill of me?” Kel asked the hulking murder machine.
“Nah, He didn't want us to spook them.”
Kat was trying to hide the smile creeping across her face. She was brushing off shale from his pants and jacket. “I wanted to help, but they insisted you could handle it. Even so, it’s better that you didn't get eaten or worse, fed to baby dino-birds.”
“Aesorooks,” Tolin said over the comms. “ It’s troubling that they're this far north. They don't agree with the climate. Too wet and cold, plus there's not enough prey for them.”
“Do they normally eat petrified gang lords?” Fluff asked.
“No,” Tolin elongated the word, trying to be supportive of his benefactor. “Usually fish and small game.”
“Hopefully that will be the most active experience we have on our way in.” Lasher said. “Rover drop was spot on. Well done, both of you.”
Pilot and co-pilot squelched their thanks. “We're going orbital to find a nice place to park Baby Doll. There's a lot of traffic up here so no one should notice us just hanging around. If you need us, send up a signal and we're on our way as fast as she can carry us.” Yuzheff said confidently.
“Thanks, Yu,” Kel said, closing the comm. “Can't believe you were going to let me get eaten,” he said with a rude gesture, feigning a wounded pride.
“You mean, let those flapping death pelicans take our favorite damsel in distress?” Fluff said with more than enough mirth in his voice to poke his friend.
“Damsel? Damsel!” Cried the animated gangster. “I'll show you who needs rescuing!”
“This is worse than having children,” Kat said in an exasperated tone.
“I was never this chatty,” Lasher said while handing her some parachute to fold.
“You were never really a child.”
The group collected up the parachutes, locking them onto the pallet. Lasher took hold of one end, pitching the entire thing over the cliff to the bottom of the gorge. Water rivulets carried dislodged shale into a grimy blanket covering the evidence of their arrival.
They pulled on their ponchos, raising their hoods to further screen their skulls from anyone who might want to collect them. Doom-Snuggle's parka was a piece of vehicle screening that Kat had sewn into a poncho for him. It was almost down to the ground when he wore it, hiding much of the mech in what was more robe than rain jacket. Fluff grabbed something from one of the equipment boxes, peeling off a protective sheeting from it.
“Yojeeta mahulo shinway havisiaare'”
“What did he just say?” Kel asked.
“Fluffang Doom-Snuggle, you are full of surprises today. With the hood up on the poncho and the nondescript, human-like mask he had Doll create, he looks like a Venissary.” Kat winked and aimed a thumbs up at the bot, who was only too happy to accept the praise.
Kel tugged on his friend's poncho. “Venissary? Is that when you get that rash and only that one cream will do?”
Fluff bared his claws, closing his fist to resemble the rude gesture Kel flashed earlier.
Lasher interrupted the gesturing. “A Venissary is someone who managed to get their identity back after escaping a Vex Hive. Sometimes they band together to work salvage or protect towns in the frontier. Vex of any type, even escapees, are illegal in the Core Worlds so the closest they can come to getting the benefits they used to enjoy in the CORAL is to work the Outer Boundary.”
“Huh. Alright, points go to the Doom Cat for an original disguise.” Kel patted him on the shoulder.
Lasher circled a finger in the air, “Mount up; guns up on our way to the outpost. Still four kilometers from here to there. Hopefully no one saw us come in. I want to get us good and muddy on the way in to sell the story that we're part of the last crew from Outpost-3. We go in, just a couple of wreckers looking for work.”
“Oh we're going to wreck something,” Fluff promised with more than a little excitement in his voice.
Eight
“Hey there!” The guard was wearing a plate carrier with a Sinogram logo on the chest. Mud smears crisscrossed its fabric. He was wearing a mask over his mouth with dual hoses running from the front, wrapping around his neck to descend into the back of the armor. He swung his slugger rifle around to the back to approach the rover but his drawl caused his words to meander in the most non-threatening way Kel had ever heard from a man holding a weapon. “Where're you coming from?”
Kel threw a mock salute to the guy, nearly matching his accent when he spoke. “Running out of Outpost-3. That place is pretty near to being folded up. Nothing but struts and grass out of there. Bots are on the job now. We figured we'd try our hand out this way. Chasing the work, ya know?”
“Got plenty of it here, friend,” the guard said. “Drago that came through here wasn't too interested in us, just some minor damage to the dome before it moved on, so we got lots o' salvage. Wreckers from all over the core rolling in to scrap and make some credits. Here's a data sheet with a layout of the place and some of the services offered.”
Kel took the sheet. “Thanks, pal. What kind of salvage is up for grabs?”
“Well, we got some work up in the dome repairing what that Drago took down. This place is on the list for Raastrider to keep running for things like safaris, if you can believe it! They're looking to tear down some of the old buildings inside and replace them with luxury stuff. One hotel already went up. Some chain out of the CORAL looking to make a splash out here in the sticks, if you know what I mean. Also, some outfit out of the Frontier been working the hole.”
“The hole?” Kat asked through her mask.
“Yeah. Calbrium mining was big here,” The guard offered. “Rumor has it that Raastrider hit a big load and had to leave it in one of the attacks. Speaking of attacks, he a Venissary?”
“He is,” Lasher nodded. “He's good though. Real good with mining tech. Won't be a problem.”
“Didn't think he would. We've had some come through now and again. Always seem to keep to themselves. Some hotshot tech jockey from the frontier relocated here not too long ago. She's always looking for folks who can splice a wire if he's looking for work. Mamma Kalla is her name.”
“Thanks for all the advice, friend. There an entrance fee?” Kel asked.
“Nah. Those Outpost-5 guys were jerks asking for stuff like that. Raastrider is paying us to be here. Go in. Be polite. Be safe. My contact is on the bottom if you need anything. Fred Nelson”
Kel shook the man's hand. “Good deal, Fred. I'm Ken, and this is Rin, Rina, and Ferrin. See ya neighbor.”
“Alright now. You get to it.”
Fred stepped from the gate, allowing the rover to move through. The vehicle was covered in muddy debris, dripping off sludge-crusted stones as it passed over the elevated throughway to the first dome. The habitat dome was immense – an entire city for up to five thousand people all packed into a hex pattered clear dome. Holo-filters flitted across the surface. From the inside, it would appear like blue skies with a more pleasant surrounding than the rocky shale covered hills and spires. Raastrider had chosen this site well for a more permanent launch point to suit vacationers looking for adventure. The landscape meant a lack of variety in prey which would equate to less predators.
The elevated bridge was short with new guard rails made from carcrete reinforced by prosteel. The meters-high blast door could easily accommodate a military APC or land crawler. It was slightly ajar with a bulked-up civilian wheeled armored carrier blocking the entrance. People in vehicles and on foot waited their turn to make way into the outpost.
“Yajah Hoot. Keepbo naka yooskaga,” came a high pitched trill from a masked alien. It had its hands cupped, begging passersby and vehicles alike.
“Keebuway,” came the response from Doom-Snuggle in the back.
The little beggar shuffled away from the vehicle, constantly looking over its shoulder at the quartet.
“What'd you say?” Kel
asked.
“I said he looked delicious. Seemed to do the trick.”
“Oh that's nice,” Kat quipped. “Way to make a good first impression! Now they think we're cannibals?”
Fluff shrugged. “Sorry, mom.”
The vehicle was waved up to the gate where a more militant guard stood with fully integrated, environmentally sealed armor. “Four of you coming in? Stand by.” He moved a stick with a wheel under the vehicle. Holographic displays around the handle seemed to indicate nothing to concern him. To his credit, his other hand was on his belt, hovering above the blaster pistol on his hip. “I see weapons and a substantial power core from your friend. He going to be a problem?”
“Not usually, no,” Kat responded.
“OK. Weapons on safe. You can keep a mag in the pistols but rifles are unloaded. In the event of an animal or pirate breach, lock and load but remember, judicious marksmanship is appreciated and expected. Collateral damage is paid for by you. You break it, you buy it. You try to skip out on the bill, there are plenty of TRACO and other mercs around that will pick up a bond just for the sake of hunting you on open ground. Work disputes are handled by you. In the event of irreconcilable differences, see the above rules on judicious marksmanship. Questions?”
Kel made a cutting signal across his neck.
“Good. Welcome to Outpost-7. Good Salvage. Good Luck.”
The guard signaled the rover forward while sticking a hand in the air. The civilian AR-V blocked the entrance with enough room for people on foot to pass. It moved deeper out of the way to allow them inside. There was a sticky static feeling as the wheels passed through the atmospheric containment shield. A small speaker set into a spot barked instructions. “Welcome to Rasstrider Corporation Outpost-7. Please move out from the door to allow for traffic. Class-6 atmosphere is enabled for Humans, Kursaadi Calibash, Noxien, Holleen, and like species. For those of non-aligned classes, please log into the local Hypernet to find the nearest atmospheric match.”
The thoroughfare stretched on for a considerable distance before street vendors with their associated traffic blocked their view. The holograms floating across the dome made the outside seem much more hospitable looking than it appeared. All manner of species walked across the streets in various states of travel or work. Sparks rained down from the top of the dome as a repair crew worked with several repulsor enabled robots to affix a new support strut.
Fluff lunged to the side of the truck, scarring a local child stiff in her tracks. “State your intent!” Fluff's voice was disguised, more electronically human than his normal guttural timbre.
“I was looking for work. That's a Glaros Doru land rover. It has full duradium plating on all sides with a flex-form, Enduromax engine. It has multiple onboard ICOMs with integrated sat-cast capability. Rollbars are a duradium-resicarbon alloy to allow it to flex under the weight but not collapse on the passengers. Someone sporting one of these are either Elysian Special Forces or Lancers.”
“What if we killed a bunch of lancers and took it?” Kel asked.
The street urchin giggled. “You'd be on the hood like a fresh kill going to market if you tried.”
Kel laughed. “You believe this kid? What are you doing out here all by yourself?”
“No family. Dad was killed in a cave in down in the mine. Mom and I used to go out of the dome to look for shale to make jewelry. I found this type of rock that could be shaped with Dad's old plasma torch and when you cold quench it, it became near unbreakable. I made some knives out of it to sell to the mercs I meet.”
“Near unbreakable you say?” Kel retorted.
“I used one of them to kill the Aesorook that took Mom.”
“So you saved your mom?” Kat asked softly.
“No, ma'am. She's buried in the cemetery I built over the rise. Workers were good to me. They helped me set up for Mom. I make headstones for a bit of money to keep me going and manage the digs to plant people. Although Hickson, that's that buff gate guard, he says I shouldn't say it like that. People might take offense.”
Lasher reached over to the side. “He might be right. What can we do for you?”
“Sweet ride. I figured you for mercs. If you're new, I can act as a guide. I know everything worth knowing around here.”
“What's the going rate?” Lasher asked her.
“Twenty credits a day for full service.”
“What constitutes full service?” Kel highlighted the word full, not at all liking what he might get for an answer.
“I stay with you all the time and when I'm not with you, I'm on call for you and only you. I use my pay to get my own meals. That also buys any introductions you might need, unless they cost more than I have.”
Lasher inclined his head. There was a moment of uncertainty as the rest of the group guessed he was working the Way. “Twenty-five a day plus another twenty-five for expenses. You keep whatever you don't spend. We need a place to stay. If you're truly alone like you say, you stay in one of the rooms we acquire so we have access to you when needed. We're big on loyalty. You sell us out, we come to you for a refund. Do you understand?”
“Bound and locked, sir.” She reached a hand to Lasher for a firm shake.
He gripped it, lifting her into the back of the rover to where he and Fluff were sitting. “Your name?”
“Bethayell. Beth for short.”
“Why does everyone want to be short lately?” Kel remarked.
“Place to stay, please, Beth.” Lasher requested.
“You want self serve housing or the hotel?”
Fluffed placed his mask close to the girl. “Hotel.”
Instead of fear, she laughed a bit, touching the mask to set it straight on his face. “That way, there.”
The rover moved slowly through the bramble of people. Some were leading bots, mining models, along on spindly legs. The crowd parted for them, passing by a handler yelling at them in Trade-4.
They came around a bend where the buildings were less littered. Signs hung on the various facades indicating far more commercialized sellers than those on the row with carts or tables under tarps. At the end of the avenue was a large hotel tucked into a corner. Brand new windows with carcrete treated to resemble old brick and mortar brought the structure an elegance the rest of the buildings lacked. A woman with a military style overcoat slowly approached the rover. “Welcome to the Palladium, Doseidos North. How may I help you?”
“Fancy,” Kel said with a tilt of the head.
Lasher jumped from the vehicle, Beth's eyes going wide as she took in the full measure of his stature. Towering over the door-woman, he bowed slightly. “We need five rooms and a place for our rover and gear.”
“Of course. I can have the vehicle parked for you out back or in secured parking.”
“Secured,” Lasher stated.
“Of course. Please proceed to the front desk to check in.”
Lasher handed her a credit slip. “Thank you, ma'am.”
“Enjoy your stay at the Palladium, Doseidos North.”
The group took nothing save themselves on their trek through the entrance hall. People in various outfits gave them a casual glance, before turning back to whatever held their interest. The concierge at the desk brought his chin up and smiled at them as they approached. A woman in a refined business suit and skirt stepped from behind a column. She was a Vosi. Deep red skin adorned elegant features under straight black hair. Her grey eyes were framed by old warpaint tattoos that made her eyebrows appear as smudges. “Welcome to the to the Palladium Doseidos North. Follow me please.”
The group shrugged but followed. Pivoting sharply away from the desk, they noticed little bots scurrying over the floor, cleaning up the grime they left in their wake, returning the floor to a lustrous shine. The Vosi ushered them into a board room, shutting the door behind them. “My name is Niomara Ziella. I am the Manager of this establishment. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Please don't bother with the fake names you gave to Nelson at the
gate. We know who you are.”
Lasher was first to pop the seals on his mask. There was a throaty WHOOSH as he pulled it from his face. His eyes locked onto Ziella's, the two staring at each other like opposing predators sussing out who was more ferocious.
“Are you familiar with what we do here at the Palladium?” she asked.
Kel pulled his mask. “Home away from home for the mercs and marauders of the galaxy.”
“Not so much.” Ziella replied. Her accent was cultured, with rolling emphasis on the hardest sounds of her words. It was almost rhythmic when she spoke. “We provide anonymity and safety to our clients as well as much needed face to face networking in this increasingly digital time. While guests here at the Palladium we keep your secrets and your safety the same as we would our own. Do you understand this?”
“We're protected but it's still your house and your rules,” Lasher offered.
“Say vono,” she said to Lasher using the Torviani Language. “We have been watching your exploits with interest so we know you have the funds available for at least a small stay of five rooms. Are you sure you want that many?”
Lasher reached into a pouch on the inside of his go-bag. He produced an ingot of metal, placing it down on the table. A symbol of a star over a bowl with a spire beneath was engraved into it.
“Corodanya?” Ziella approached his side of the table, ignoring the stares on her as she moved. She touched the surface of the metal, closing her eyes when her fingers slid across the top of the ingot. “How did you come by this? This one bar could buy you time for an entire floor.”
Lasher slid the bar from her fingers. “You ever hear the expression, old folks retirement plan?”
“A crude joke in reference to criminal assets seized by the Marshals Templar. They hide it away for when they either hand in their sword or take the Grim Patrol.”
Lasher nodded his approval. “Good. This was a part of my mother's retirement plan.”
The Revenant: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Hunter's Moon Book 2) Page 11