Kodiak: Infinity Verge Trilogy: Book I

by DJ Morand

I hope I don't need it for long, he thought. He continued his argument with Zee as he resumed walking.

  “End of story Zee! I am getting new armor. If I had a SATYR suit I wouldn’t have lost my eye in that blast.” Captain Abel Cain was wearing the makeshift eye patch over his left eye, stopping occasionally to adjust it. He wore it partially to keep anyone from having to look at the open socket and the nanites repairing the eye, and partially because the light hurt.

  “The fitting alone could take a week!” Zee was protesting and had been since the trio had left the doctor in his shop unconscious. Confident he would be asleep for a few hours and no worse for the wear, the trio gathered some supplies to cover Abel’’s eye socket and left the doctor to his rest.

  “I said end of story. SATYR suit, gremlins, and back to the Snowskipper. I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to.” He paused and looked around for a moment. His one good eye scanned the area and scrutinized it. “Damnit Zee, this is The Silence territory.”

  “Captain?” Zee said, not quite understanding.

  “It’s where Breaker Jones is located. If Mercury lets him know we’re here, we’re going to be in a whole other pile of flak.” Abel was more irritable the longer they remained away from the Kodiak. He was certain it was something about being vulnerable and out in the open that bothered him.

  Zee could sense that the Captain was getting edgier and decided to let the matter rest. Abel, Zee, and Echo made their way to the mechanic’s yard a few kilometers south through the Border Towns. The mechanic’s yard was the only place to get the supplies and salvage they would need. It was also the only place that was considered neutral ground between the gangs.

  None of the gangs wanted to give up a share in the black-market and if they moved against each other here, undoubtedly the rest would group up against them. The mechanic’s yard appeared to be a rundown junkyard, several derelict ships and vehicles dotted the landscape. Some of the larger vessels had been turn into shops or homes.

  Abel moved confidently forward. He tried to ignore the call of racial slurs, rude cat calls, and all types of derogatory comments that began to filter down from the various people milling about. Frustrated by it all, Abel threw back his coat revealing the dual plasma pistols at his hip, most stopped; a few sneered and spoke louder.

  “Captain, let’s not make a scene.” Echo spoke through gritted teeth, even though some of the more vulgar comments were directed at her. If she had to hear how sweet her swaying hips were one more time she was going to shoot someone. “Let’s just get what we need and get out.”

  Abel looked at her incredulously, unable to believe she was going to let the insults stand - especially after she had taken such offense from his laughter on the ship. Abel nodded and covered his guns again, making his way to the shop owners.

  The trio approached a broken down Warthog UM drone fighter ship. Abel figured it must be at least a Mark II which meant the thing was ancient. He looked at it a bit concerned though. The Warthogs were notoriously unstable and usually carried a nuclear warhead in the nose. Upon closer inspection he could see that the nose was severely damaged.

  It probably doesn’t have a warhead any longer, he decided.

  “Hello there! My name is--” the shop keeper intoned in a high pitched and very excited voice. He was in shambles looking nearly as bad as the ship he stood by. A make-shift canopy made of steel and nailed down armor plates was all that protected the dirty and thin man from the elements. He was unable to finish his introduction before Abel started in.

  “I need to find a Lute SATYR model, know where I can get one of those?” Abel said brandishing a credit slip. The small piece of transparent plastic was the only means of currency in the Quintar Prime system. On the plastic all anyone needed in the way of documentation or credit was available. Abel’s credit slip said he was a fifty year old space hauler. On Eden it didn’t matter who you were so long as you had credit.

  “SATYR armor is expensive ‘round these parts. Sure you even can handle one?” the old man croaked at him.

  “I can handle it just fine. How expensive?” Abel glared.

  “We don’t take blue-man credit.” The shop keeper glared at Zee and then his eyes slid to Echo, pausing for a moment deciding what she was. Before Echo or Zee could stop him, Abel had a pistol in hand and the old man by his collar. He pressed the barrel of the pistol under the man’s chin and pulled his own face within inches of the old man.

  “RESPECT,” he paused for emphasis, “is an easy thing. You see my pistol here represents fear, use that fear to find some respect. Do we have an understanding?”” Abel said sneering at the shopkeeper. The old man nodded, fear evident in his eyes.

  “I can’t use bl-- Quintarran credit here. P…Please, if I even accept it the rest of them will turn me over to the EXOs. I don’’t want to be exed.” The man was practically sobbing.

  “Lucky for you, we use old earth standard. You can still take Earth Coalition standard right?” Abel said brandishing his credit slip. The old man nodded vigorously. His eyes craning to see the pistol still at his chin.

  “Please.” He managed to croak. Abel released him and the man drew back, pulling his coat tight around him and shivering. “I …… h … have a SATYR armor stashed.” He stammered.

  “Good. I need a twelver of gremlins too.” Abel said.

  “I have the gremlins here.” He said, pointing to the Warthog’s cockpit.

  “Sounds good. Name your price.” Abel said. Both Echo and Zee winced. The old man grinned. “Keep it within reason, I know when I’’m being overcharged.”

  The old man’s grin faded a bit when Abel spoke up. “Very well. The gremlins we’re talking one hundred thousand.””

  “Are you kidding me!? That’s outrageous and you know it!” Echo burst in, drawing a look from Abel that showed he was none too pleased.

  “Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

  “Seventy-five for the gremlins. What are you asking for the armor?” Abel resumed.

  “Ninety for the gremlins, three hundred for the armor.”

  Abel received a mental image from Zee just then, the Quintarran was letting him know that their transactional-node only held four hundred thousand. Abel understood. If he agreed to these prices they wouldn’t have enough for fuel and rations to get them to whatever their next destination would be.

  “Eighty for the gremlins, one hundred for the armor.” Abel countered.

  “Flak you!” the old man said at the counter offer for the armor. “Why don’t you take my eye too, hell I’ll give you it all. How about that. Get the flak out of here with that glitching nonsense.”

  Abel gritted his teeth, “Remember your manners.” Abel pulled back his own coat revealing the pistol again.

  “Flak it! Eighty-five for the gremlins, one hundred and fifty for the armor. That is as low as I am going!”

  “Deal.” Abel said showing his credit slip. The grubby old man seized Abel’s wrist with a bit of fervor, or fear, and Abel gave him a stare that spoke volumes. The shopkeeper let go and pointed towards his scanner. Abel slid the credit slip against the pay station. The box was attached to the side of the dilapidated Warthog UM-DF and bore a small section of Transteel where payments could be made. The shopkeeper nodded as the transaction completed.

  “Around back, the armor is there. The gremlins are in that case there.” He pointed to a box no larger than a car battery sitting on the pilot’s seat.

  Echo looked incredulously at the case. “What kind of game is he trying to pull?” she whispered to Zee. The Quintarran looked at her and shook his head.

  “Gremlins are like nanites for a ship. It is why they are called so.” Zee explained.

  * * *

  Eden - Border Towns: Silence Territory

  2972 ESD - Thursday, November 5th 16:15 hours

  Baxter “Cat” Perez watched as the Captain and the other two entered the mechanic’s yard. Mr. Jones had told him to watch for them. When they arrived he
ran across the tops of the ships making his way to Mr. Jones. His boss did not like to be kept waiting.

  No one could traverse the mechanic’s yard as quickly as Baxter. He was like a cat – at least that is what he told himself. He had certainly had his share of lives that should have been lost and somehow he always landed on his feet again. The wiry young man bounded from ship-top to ship-top. He reached his destination at the edge of the mechanic’s yard where he saw Mr. Jones and a good deal of other The Silence members armed and waiting. Instinctively, one of them drew his weapon and aimed at Baxter.

  “Put yer weap’n down glitch head.” It was the voice of Mr. Jones. “Dats my cat, flaker.”

  The gang member lowered his weapon, but continued to scowl at Baxter. The boy gulped, he knew the gangster Mr. Jones had just chastised would likely hold a permanent grudge.

  There goes another life, he thought to himself.

  “Whatcha got cat?” Mr. Jones was asking him.

  “Two blues and a one-eye human.” Baxter called down from the top of a dilapidated old ship. A LGS-AC, Hawkeye, as he remembered they were called. “They were speaking with old Hindley Scott. I couldn’t hear what they wanted.” Baxter said with a frown, he was disappointed in himself that he couldn’t get close enough, but old Hindley liked to keep his Warthog away from the other ships. Baxter figured it was because he was so paranoid about thieves.

  “It doan matter cat. Go see Lexxa, she’ll give yo’ da credit.” Mr. Jones said, tossing an old coin to Baxter. The coin was a remnant of times past, but Breaker liked to deal in hard currency when he could. He had a whole stash of silver coins minted in the early twenty first century. He only carried a few with him to hand out as a placeholder for credit slips. Baxter caught the coin and grinned, then leapt for another ruined vessel and away from the gang.

  * * *

  Abel took the better part of an hour to fit the SATYR armor - it could have been his from years ago. It was a perfect fit to his body. There were a few minor adjustments, but he was able to square them away quickly. The bulk of the time was spent on calibrating the display with his neural implant. He put on the jumpsuit and it conformed to his every contour and muscle.

  He always loved how the SATYR under armor felt like a second skin. He activated the nodes and they linked seamlessly with his neural implant once the calibration was complete. He gained a mental image of the suit schematics and any non-functioning contact nodes.

  All green, he smiled at the thought. He had really swindled the shop keeper out of this one. He stepped up to the armor. The hard edged metallic structure would add at least a foot to his six foot frame, and at least three inches of steel alloy between him and anyone trying to kill him.

  He turned around so that he could sit in the armor and activate it. Upon activation the armor responded to the many contact nodes and sealed around his form. The painful stabs of the control nodes forced their way into his spine.

  He stood up and felt the armor adjust. He was already thinking of ways to improve the armor, utilizing all that he had learned from the quantum plating on the Kodiak. In thinking of his ship he tested the long range sensors on the suit and was immediately disappointed. The communications node seemed to be damaged. While trying to access it the screen inside the visor displayed a list of mechanical issues with the armor - maybe he had been swindled.

  “Looks like we may have gotten a raw deal on the SATYR armor Zee.” Abel said, sounding highly mechanical to Echo and Zee. The armor modulated his voice and amplified it. This was used in combat as a scare tactic or as a means to alert large crowds. Presently, it was just a bit unnerving for Echo, she had not spent much time around any marines.

  “Not entirely. I see where the communications module was detached. That is easily replaced. Do you plan to wear that through the rest of the yard while we gather the other supplies?” Zee explained and then sighed when he saw Abel nodding.

  “You bet I do! We’ve already been ambushed once and I am sure Breaker Jones knows we’re in town.” He said as he fidgeted with the controls to load the weapons systems. A moment later he was awarded with green statuses and the suit produced a pulse laser in his left wrist and the traditional shock baton from the back of the right wrist.

  “Looks like weapons are still active. A pulse laser is more than a match for the plasma armament they’re likely to have available here.” Abel explained while moving his arm about and making a few test swings with the baton.

  “A plasma bolt in the right place can still harm that armor. Think about that communications module Captain.” Zee warned. While pointing to the back of the armor where there was a significant chunk of the metal that appeared to be fused.

  “I am well aware Zee. Stop mothering. Let’s go get the rest of our supplies.” Abel said.

  He took a few steps and then crouched low to make sure he had full range of motion in the powered armor. He considered the power supply and checked it as he led the trio to the more common area of the yard. The power showed at ninety percent and with no leaks.

  He sighed with relief that the status still showed green after moving. He directed Zee to the market where they could purchase antimatter fuel and rations for the onboard synthesizer. Abel and Zee had been living off salvaged supplies for more than ten years and he was sure that the synthesizer needed to be cleaned and refilled.

  * * *

  Eden - Border Towns: Silence Territory

  2972 ESD - Thursday, November 5th 17:00 hours

  Mr. Jones entered the common area of the yard alone. He was not ready to risk war with the other gangs without having a visual confirmation on Abel and his crew. Baxter had seen them, but they could have been another crew from another ship. Mr. Jones had to be sure it was Abel.

  Mercury had better pay me well for bringing in the Captain, he thought. Last time Mr. Jones had tangled with Abel, a third of his gang was slaughtered and he lost the only means he had of leaving Eden. It was that unfortunate tango with Captain Abel Cain that left him in the service of Mercury doing this kind of glitched job.

  Mr. Jones recalled his sub-light planet skipper, it was a smallish ship only capable of quick jumps between planets in the same system. The Gambade had made him a successful smuggler in the lucrative black market. He considered that success and realized it was probably what put him on Mercury’s radar in the first place.

  Mercury had told Mr. Jones that Abel was a fugitive and there was a bounty on his head. He had lied.

  "There is only two of them. A single ship." Mercury had said.

  While it was a partial truth, there was a good deal of omission as well. Mr. Jones and his crew attacked Abel and chased him back to the Kodiak. When they arrived his men panicked. The URSA GS-I was a massive gunship and certainly more than a match for the Gambade. A third his crew died in the crash, Abel had only fired on the propulsion system, a mercy if Mr. Jones had any say. Now, here he was waiting for Abel again. At least this time he would not make the same mistake. Abel had to die here in the market, before he ever reached the Kodiak.

  Mr. Jones slunk into the shadows and waited in the canopy of a shop owner who started to shoo him off. When he noticed Mr. Jones’ dark skin and the dark shades over his eyes, he decided otherwise. The color of his skin and the shades indicated that he was a part of The Silence, if not who he was specifically. The shopkeeper tried to ignore him after that. He did, however, keep glancing at Mr. Jones nervously.

  Mr. Jones smiled. People on Eden knew their place; more so in the Border Towns than the inner cities. He wasn’t concerned with the inner cities today. Mr. Jones watched as people milled about, most had landed their vessels at the spaceport at the edge of town. Others were locals trying to restore one of the decrepit ships they had purchased in folly. If a ship had crashed on Eden one could spend years trying to restore it only to find that the antimatter core or the nuclear generators were beyond repair. Mr. Jones noticed Abel and his crew while ruminating on the folly of salvagers.

  “Flak
.” He cursed under his breath. He had noticed that Abel was wearing SATYR armor. The armor appeared incomplete and possibly damaged. It was a Lute model, which meant he wouldn’t be a huge combat threat; but taking him alive was going to be difficult. Mr. Jones would just as soon kill Abel as capture him, but Mercury had wanted the man alive.

  “Flak you.” The shop keep blanched at the curse, and scurried away. Breaker almost laughed. He had been cursing Mercury for putting him in this predicament and ruining his fine Monday.

  His laughter was cut short with the dawning realization he would probably have to kill the other two to keep Abel alive. He was supposed to bring the girl back too. Mr. Jones understood a man’s baser desires, but he would probably kill the girl if only to save her from Mercury’s baser self. The man was an animal and while he really didn’t want to cross him, he was not at all comfortable turning someone over to his methods.

  ESCAPE

  Eden - Border Towns: Silence Territory

  2972 ESD - Thursday, November 5th 18:00 hours

  Abel ruffled his dark brown hair combing it back with his hand. Standing before him was a young man, maybe ten years his junior that looked to be easily ten years his senior. Life on Eden was hard and life in the Border Towns was harder still. Abel slid his credit slip across the man’s pay station and tucked it back in his pocket. The machine beeped once and displayed that the transaction was completed. The man nodded satisfactorily at Abel and managed not to glare at Echo and Zee.

  “Thank you. Go ahead and send it to this location.” The captain finished his negotiation with the supplier and advised of the Snowskipper’s location. The merchant fuel and rations supplier simply nodded his head and instructed his subordinate to deliver the supplies - he did so in a language once known as Cantonese.

  Abel looked at him strangely, recognizing the ancient language, but not understanding it. He gave a look to Zee and then to Echo; neither seemed concerned and he brushed off his worry as simple nerves. He could feel that something was about to happen. The air seemed to be still and the market was … it was quiet.