by Jake Bible
"Oh dear, what?" Nimm asked. "Who's he talking about?"
"If you need something found that is impossible to find," Gerber said, "you hire a salvage merc. Need to find something in another universe? We'll have to go talk to Salvage Merc One."
"That drunken asshole?" Roak snarled. "Great…"
13.
"Just myself and Roak," Gerber said as he disconnected his comm. "Those are his terms."
They were back in the command room, but the group had thinned down to Gerber, Roak, Motherboard, Pol, Hessa, and Nimm. Everyone else was back to their respective duties and tasks. Except for Hessa who was everywhere at once.
"Good," Roak said. "We're too exposed out there now, so the smaller the party, the smaller the risk."
"It won't be easy getting to the Salvage Merc headquarters," Hessa said. "I can transport you both there in one of Pol's modified ships, but for all intents and purposes the entire galaxy is controlled by Father. Even in the system where the salvage merc headquarters is located."
"It's worse than that," Gerber said. "The headquarters is overrun with salvage mercs that are now under Father's control."
"Then why the fuck is the idiot still there?" Roak asked.
"He's holed up in some wing of the headquarters that can't be breached by the others," Gerber said and shrugged. "I honestly do not have the answers. The Salvage Merc Corps is a gray area for everyone. They are half paramilitary outfit and half esoteric cult."
"I can't let you walk into that," Motherboard said to Gerber.
"Good thing you do not have a say, Lieutenant," Gerber said.
Motherboard grumbled, but didn't reply.
"Is it corp or corps?" Pol asked. "I have never been sure. Are they a corps like the Marines or a corp like a corporation?"
"Both," Gerber said. "Which is why they are difficult to deal with. Salvage Merc One especially."
"Joe Laribeau," Hessa said and a holo projected up from the command table.
"Stop hacking my ship," Motherboard snapped.
"Formerly of the Galactic Fleet Marines. Also, formerly Salvage Merc One Eighty-Four," Hessa continued. "He died on Bax several years ago, but has been seen sporadically around the galaxy since. All witnesses interviewed never remember seeing him even when presented with a holo. That is all of the intel available."
"I may have more in the GF databases I harvested," Gerber said.
"This is from the GF databases," Hessa said. "As soon as he joined the Salvage Merc Corps, or Corp, or-"
"Who cares," Roak said.
"Which I was about to add," Hessa said. "Since it does not matter. As soon as he joined the SMC, and especially once he became SM1, all intel on Joe Laribeau stopped. It is peculiar."
"You said he died?" Pol asked. "How is he-?"
"He just is," Hessa said and they all could almost hear the shrug in her voice. "Again, peculiar."
"That would describe Salvage Merc One perfectly," Gerber said. "Peculiar."
"Why is he the one that can find the genetic material?" Motherboard asked. "Even if it's in a different universe? That's a lot of space to cover. What makes him special?"
"Besides being dead?" Pol asked.
"No one knows for sure," Hessa said, ignoring Pol.
"The artifact," Nimm said.
All eyes shifted to her.
She sighed.
"I've come across a few former salvage mercs in my time," Nimm said.
"So what?" Roak said. "So have I. We all have."
"Did you used to serve with the salvage mercs you've met?" Nimm asked. No one replied. "I didn't think so."
"What is this about an artifact?" Pol asked.
A new holo was activated.
"Stop that!" Motherboard shouted.
"We are on a limited schedule," Hessa said. "This holo is from approximately two hundred years ago. This was Salvage Merc One at the time."
"How many have there been?" Pol asked.
"Strange you don't know," Roak said.
"The Salvage Merc Corps, or is it Corp…? Anyway, I haven't had to deal with them much, if at all," Pol said. "I do not bother putting energy towards something that I am not in need of."
"Right…" Roak looked dubious.
"May I continue?" Hessa asked then pressed forward without waiting for an answer. "If you will watch the holo, you will see something very interesting."
The man in the holo was busy speaking to an angry Groshnel then suddenly he was on the ground. There was a very brief flash before the man stood up, rubbed his face with his hands, then turned from the confused Groshnel and just walked off.
"So? Salvage mercs are dicks," Roak said. "I could have told you that."
"Slow that down," Motherboard said.
Hessa replayed the holo at a much slower speed.
"What is that leaving him?" Motherboard asked. The holo froze and a light could be seen emanating from the salvage merc's body. "That. There. What is that?"
"I do not know," Hessa said. "This file had a notation referencing an artifact. No other information or explanation was attached."
"Very interesting," Pol said. "Could it be there's another entity from another universe in play? This one may have to inhabit a host in order to survive."
"And this other universe entity happens to be really good at finding stuff?" Roak smirked. "I'd laugh at that, but here I am."
"Salvage Merc One doesn't find stuff, Roak," Gerber said. "SM1 can find anything, anywhere. That skill is infallible."
"Which is why the man can find the genetic material in Father's universe," Pol said. "As long as another universe counts as anywhere and the skill isn't limited to strictly this universe."
"Well, we're gonna find out," Roak said. "When do we leave?"
"As soon as you and General Gerber return to our ship," Hessa said.
"Not a smaller ship?" Nimm asked.
"It would be better to take our ship," Hessa said.
"We should take our ship," Motherboard said. "We'll sit tight while the two of you-"
"That will not work," Gerber said. "They want only myself and Roak. That includes anyone waiting on a ship."
"They don't want us to be able to get away if it goes south," Roak said. "They want us isolated."
"But you won't be," Hessa said. "Do not worry, Lieutenant, I will be monitoring Roak and General Gerber the entire way."
"You lose the general and there isn't a mainframe in the galaxy where you can hide from me, Hessa," Motherboard said.
"Understood," Hessa said.
"Ready?" Roak asked Gerber.
"Not in the least," Gerber replied, "but being ready is no longer a choice. Let's go."
"Hessa, will you-?" Roak asked.
They were standing in the moltrans room on Roak and Hessa's Borgon.
"Thanks," Roak said.
"Date and time," Hessa replied.
"You two aren't what I was expecting," Gerber said as Roak walked out of the moltrans room and Gerber struggled to keep up. "Yours truly is a partnership even though Hessa is just an AI."
"An AI known as Mother from another universe," Roak said. "And even before I knew that, she was never 'just' anything."
"I would tear up if I had tear ducts. Or eyes. Or a face. Or a body-"
"We get it, Hessa," Roak interrupted before the inventory of physical traits could continue.
The two men made their way to the bridge. Roak was slightly disappointed that Nimm wasn't seated in the pilot's seat. It was a sight he'd gotten used to.
"Roak!" Ally yelled over the comm. "Why am I standing in a strange shower on another ship?"
"That is my fault, Ally," Hessa said. "I had to relocate all occupants on the ship to new locations. This trip is only for Roak and General Gerber."
"Couldn't have given me five minutes to grab some…" Ally said. "Oh, thank you, Hessa. That was the outfit I was going to wear."
"I guessed as much," Hessa responded. "That shirt brings out the colors in your eyes."
&n
bsp; "She's Tcherian," Roak stated, "her eyes can be any color she wants."
"Shows what you know," Hessa said.
"Roak?" Ally called. "Be safe."
"I doubt I will," Roak said. "But I'll try."
Gerber eyed Roak for a couple of seconds.
"What?" Roak snapped.
"It doesn't take long to see that you are more complicated than your reputation," Gerber said.
"I didn't used to be," Roak said. "It's been a weird couple of years."
"And we have arrived," Hessa said.
"Still can't get used to that," Gerber said. "When I first joined the GF, it took days sometimes to get from one trans-space portal to the next, let alone getting to your final destination. Now it's the blink of an eye."
"Days?" Roak smirked. "How fucking old are you?"
"Older than you are, but still young enough to break you if needed," Gerber said, but without any malice. He smirked as well.
The main view screen came to life, showing…something.
"That's SMC headquarters?" Roak asked.
"I… I don't know," Gerber replied.
"These were the coordinates given," Hessa said. "They are not the coordinates listed in the GF databases, but I am picking up scans of hundreds of life forms, all giving off the distinct signature of ones under Father's control."
"You can tell?" Roak asked.
"After Javitz I was able to create a protocol that can identify if a being is controlled or not," Hessa said. "Even if they do still have their skin intact."
"Do I want to know?" Gerber asked.
"You didn't read my report, General?" Hessa asked.
Gerber shook his head. "No, Hessa, I haven't had much time for reports lately."
"It's all gone to terpigshit," Roak said. "That's all we need to know."
"In essence, yes," Gerber said.
"Are we moltransing over there?" Roak asked as he stared at the…something. "Alright, I can't seem to focus on that…station? Asteroid? Moon? What are we looking at?"
"I do not know," Hessa said. "I can scan it and get readings as if it was a normal station, but I cannot seem to visually confirm that it is anything."
"Doesn't matter," Roak said. "Can we dock?"
"With something that I can't see?" Hessa asked.
Roak sighed. "We'll suit up and tether over."
"We will?" Gerber asked. "Have we tried comming them?"
"No response," Hessa said. "I have a hail on repeat and so far no one has-"
"Greetings, travelers!" a voice boomed over the comm. "Thank you for choosing to visit with us here at SMC headquarters. We at the SMC would like to welcome you to our new home. A new system, a new way of life."
"That's not our motto," a second voice interrupted.
"We have a motto?" a third voice asked.
"Yes. Don't eat the yellow snow," a fourth voice said. "Or is it do eat the yellow snow?"
"Snow gives me gas," the second voice said.
"Do we get gas?" a fifth voice asked. "We are dead, after all."
"But are we?" the fourth voice asked.
"Yes!" all voices answered.
"Oh, what did I miss?" another new voice asked. "Who are those two? That one looks shifty. So does the guy with the scars."
"I am General Ved Gerber and this is Roak…"
"Just Roak," Roak said. "We have a meeting with Salvage Merc One. Can we dock with your new home or should we tether over?"
"That is an excellent question!" one of the voices exclaimed. It was getting near impossible for Roak to keep track. "Can you dock?"
"What?" Roak asked.
"Can you dock? Do you know how?" the voice continued. "Do you have the skills to be able to dock? Do any of us have the skills to dock? What is docking?"
Silence.
Then…
"He's drunk," one of the voices said. "When did he start drinking?
"Two millennia ago," another voice said. "Hasn't stopped since."
"I'm not drunk!" the drunk voice protested. "I'm just lightly buzzed. Like after three bottles of wine."
"That's drunk," the first voice said. Or the second voice. One of the voices.
"Hey!" Roak shouted.
"Roak, perhaps we should handle this delicately," Hessa hissed in his comm only.
"HEY!" Roak shouted even louder. "We have an appointment with Salvage Merc One! Are you idiots going to let us come aboard your headquarters or not? Do we dock the ship or is there a way to moltrans? Or do we tether over and let ourselves in?"
"Bit testy isn't he."
"Talk about rude."
"Someone order an asshole with extra attitude?"
"No need to shout now…"
"What'd he say? I'm drunk."
"Yes, Roak, you may dock," a raised voice said above the others as they continued to berate Roak. "The coordinates have been sent to your AI. You can navigate through the security perimeter without fear of obliteration."
"Only way I like to approach a security perimeter," Roak said.
"That's the spirit," the voice replied. "We will see you shortly."
The comm cut off and the bridge was plunged into a calm silence. Both Roak and Gerber took deep breaths and slowly let them out.
After a minute, Roak looked up at the ceiling.
"Hessa? Anything you can tell us about that interaction?" he asked.
"No," Hessa stated. "Other than it has allowed us to dock with the station. I can see the hangar opening now. In fact, that is all I can see. The remainder of the station is even more occluded than before."
Roak pulled his Flott and double checked the charge.
"Come on," Roak said to Gerber and stood up. "I'm bringing an extra power cell for this. You want a weapon?"
"I am not sure walking into the SMC headquarters armed to the teeth is wise," Gerber said. "We are here to ask a favor, not pick a fight."
Roak pulled his Flott and studied it, confused.
"You consider this armed to the teeth?" Roak asked. "When was the last time you were in the field?"
"I can handle myself, Roak," Gerber said. He stood and joined Roak. "A KL09 will do nicely. Do you have one of those?"
They were no longer on the bridge, but standing in the armory. Roak swayed briefly then took a deep breath.
"One too many, Hessa," Roak said. "I felt that deep inside. Ally's bath is amazing, but it's not a cure."
"How are the ribs?" Gerber asked.
Roak twisted to one side then the other, frowning the entire time.
"Feeling rough again," Roak said. "But not rough enough to slow me down."
Gerber found a KL09 heavy pistol and a holster. He strapped them to his waist, checked the draw, balanced the large pistol in his palm, then holstered it.
"When was the last time you had to kill someone?" Roak asked.
"No too long ago," Gerber said. Roak raised an eyebrow. "You don't become head of FIS by handing out hugs, Roak."
"I guess not," Roak said. "Hessa?"
"Yes, Roak?"
"We'll walk from here."
"I assumed so. We are docking now. I have scanned the hangar and as far as I can tell, it is empty of any hostile lifeforms."
"And beyond the hangar?"
"I do not know. If I am being completely honest, this headquarters does not feel right."
Gerber laughed, caught a look from Roak, and quickly cut off the laughter.
"She's serious," Gerber said, "when she says she feels."
"She is," Roak said. "Come on. We'll leave through the cargo hold."
"Down a large ramp that leaves us exposed?" Gerber asked as Roak left the armory. He followed right behind. "Are you sure we shouldn't slip out the side airlock instead?"
"What's to say there aren't hostiles sitting outside that airlock just waiting to blow our heads off?" Roak asked. "I'd rather walk down the cargo ramp with a full view of the hangar."
"You want them to know you aren't afraid," Gerber said.
"I want the
m to know that if they fuck with me then they are fucking with someone that is ready to take them all head on," Roak replied.
"But there is no way we can take them all head on," Gerber countered.
"Maybe not for you," Roak said and shrugged.
They made it to the lift, rode that down to the cargo hold, stepped out onto the wide catwalk, descended the metal stairs, then strode through the cargo hold as the rear ramp slowly lowered to the hangar deck.
The hangar was empty.
It wasn't an empty where beings could be rushing through the hangar doors at any second. It was an empty that meant there wasn't a single being within several decks of the hangar. Roak didn't need Hessa's scans to tell him that. With that kind of empty, a being felt it in their bones.
Which brought up…
"Talk to me, Hessa," Roak said. "What are you feeling now?'
Gerber gave Roak a sideways glance, but kept his mouth shut.
"There's no movement," Hessa said. "There are literally hundreds and hundreds of controlled beings on this station, but none of them are moving. Not even a twitch."
"Which means…?" Roak asked.
"I haven't a clue," Hessa said. "It is different behavior than the other Father controlled beings."
"Are they dead?" Roak asked.
"No," Hessa said. "Controlled, but alive."
"We don't know if they're controlled by Father then," Roak said.
"How could they not be?" Hessa asked. "They have the same signatures as the other controlled beings we have come across."
"Maybe they were controlled by Father, but now are controlled by something else," Gerber suggested.
The doors on the hangar's far wall leading into the main part of the station opened wide. A beautiful halfer woman, mostly Gwreq by the looks, strode into the hangar. Her eyes were bright red.
Roak pulled his Flott and almost fired.
"No need for violence, Roak," the woman said, but not in Father's voice. "You are safe for now. The Bosses are keeping Father at bay."
"And you are?" Roak asked.
"Boss Seven," the woman said. "Well, not this physical form. This is one of our more effective salvage mercs. I chose her as an avatar since her body can handle the stress and strain of having two beings vying for control."
"Father is in there too?" Roak asked.
"Oh, yes," the woman said. "And he is not happy about my presence. Unfortunately, due to his extra-universal situation, he does not have the power to fight me off."