by Andrew Gates
“Oh shit,” the reporter muttered. “I… I haven’t left the Patriot in years. This place is all I know anymore.”
“Me neither,” Lyla said. “But we’ll make it work. We’ll find another place to live, somewhere free of my mother’s clutches.”
The four of them finally exited the maintenance corridors and entered another wide pedestrian hall. The hall seemed to be empty. There was not a person in sight.
Daltus had this sector cleared, Yuri explained. That can’t be good.
“Not good at all,” Ellen agreed. She paused in place, knowing that they were about to walk into a trap. The others followed suit.
“What is it?” Dave asked, looking around. “Why did we stop? Do you see any hostiles?”
“Not yet, but there’s got to be some-”
Bang, bang, bang! Laser fire interrupted Ellen mid-sentence. She immediately dove into the first room she could find. The other three joined her, unscathed.
“Everyone okay?” Ellen asked.
There were nods all around.
Ellen peered out of the room into the empty hall, then pulled her head back in.
“There’s no cover out there. It’s wide open,” she reported.
“Any sign of the shooter?” Dave asked.
“Negative.” Ellen shook her head. “The shooter must be using some form of camouflage.”
Ellen stuck her head out again, this time setting her vision to infrared. Now she could see not one, but two targets at the other end of the hallway. She pulled her head back once more.
“Camouflage suits,” she said.
“What?” Lyla asked.
“They were popular in my century,” Ellen explained. “It makes them invisible in this light spectrum.”
“In this light spectrum. So you mean you can see them in other spectrums?” Lyla asked.
“I can see them in infrared, but once they start firing those weapons again, those lasers are going to create a lot of heat. This hall will light up,” Ellen replied.
Lyla nodded her head. “Better make it quick then. Take them out before they fire.”
“Agreed,” Ellen said. She gripped her weapon firmly in hand, took a deep breath, then stepped out of the room.
Bang, bang, bang! Ellen opened fire immediately, hitting one center mass.
The other hostile returned fire. Ellen did her best to dive away from the blasts while still lining up her shots. Bang, bang, bang! Her aim was precise. The enemy fell to floor.
Ellen stood up and switched her vision back to normal. Laser burn marks decorated the walls and floor around her, but she remained unscathed. Luck was truly on her side.
“It’s clear!” Ellen said, waving the others out. They rejoined her in the hall.
“How did these guys get camouflage suits?” Dave asked as he emerged.
“Mateo’s black market is full of old tech like this. Mercs probably got it from there,” Lyla surmised.
I hate interrupt, but we need to keep moving, Yuri said. There’s no time to waste. Every second we delay, Daltus and her mercenaries have more time to prepare these traps.
“He’s right. Let’s get going,” Ellen added.
Ellen sprinted down the hall, prompting the others to follow behind. With each step, they neared ever closer to the hangar. But looking at the map on her HUD, it looked as if they had made practically no progress at all.
“Uh, guys…” Lyla said as they ran along.
“What is it?” Dave asked.
“My mom is trying to reach me over the ATG.”
Nobody spoke for a few moments. It was as if everyone was just waiting for someone else to react first. But eventually Ellen interrupted the silence.
“Talk to her,” Ellen said. “You’re her daughter. She might listen to you.”
Lyla gulped and stared off into the distance, obviously initiating dialog. Whatever she was about to say, Ellen hoped her words could do the trick.
***
Lyla, what the hell do you think you’re doing?
I know you’re upset, mother, but I’m not doing this to spite you.
Spare me the excuses. I don’t care why you’re doing it. I just want you to stop. Step aside and let me kill these guys.
I can’t do that. If you’re tracking me through the ship, you already know how committed I am to this mission.
This mission, huh? You speak like you’re a soldier. In case you’ve forgotten, Lyla, you are not a soldier. And yes, I’ve been tracking you from the moment you shot my merc square in the face. And I’m not only upset, I’m appalled. I can’t believe you would do this. Why would you ruin your career for a man who fucked you?
It’s not that simple. He’s not just some man who fucked me.
Right, he’s a thousand-year-old screw-up who had to forge his flight record just be taken seriously.
There’s more to David Cutter than that. He may have been a screw-up generations ago, but Taspansa changed him.
Tas-what?
Red One changed him.
Look, forget it. I don’t care. Just stop this now.
I already told you I cannot do that. I’m in too deep.
Lyla, this is serious. If you continue to help them, you could die in the crossfire.
If I do, I die by your hand.
That’s not fair. Don’t put this on me. I would never harm you.
They’re your mercs shooting at us. You hired them. They’re following your orders.
I’ve ordered them not to kill you.
But you’ve ordered them to kill the people right next to me. I hate to say it, but a lot of these guys seem sloppy. You said it yourself, I could easily die in the crossfire.
Well what do you recommend I do, huh? Just allow your friends to escape? Let Milsen and Natalie and your sex-toy leave like nothing happened? If I do that, they’ll expose me! They’ll expose you!
I’m sorry, mother. My answer is the same. I won’t stand down. Your choice is simple. You can either call off the mercs and let us live or let your mercs do their job and risk killing me with the others.
I can’t tell you how disappointed I am in you, Lyla.
Likewise, mother. So… what is your answer?
***
“So… what is her answer?” Dave asked as they continued through the empty hall.
“I’m still talking to her,” Lyla replied. “Hold on.”
Watch out! More hostiles ahead! Gloria suddenly shouted.
Ellen quickly stopped in her tracks as a four-legged servitor rounded the corner carrying a rifle in each of its two claw-like hands. Two human mercs accompanied it garbed in military-grade armor, one on either side.
“Get back!” Ellen shouted. She opened fire and darted to the closest open doorway she could find.
The servitor and its human hosts returned fire immediately. A beam blast singed Ellen in the left leg as she entered the nearby door. Her three companions were already safely inside.
“Damn, that’s a big fucking robot!” Dave exclaimed.
“It’s powerful alright,” Ellen agreed, “and well-defended. I spotted ablative plating on the servitor’s outer layer.”
Dave let out a long sigh of frustration and lowered his head. Ellen wondered if he thought this would be their end.
“How much farther do we have to go?” Natalie wondered.
“Not far,” Ellen replied, studying the numbers on her HUD. “We’re only a couple hundred meters away from the hangar entrance now. We made a lot of progress in the last few minutes.”
More beams collided against the side of the doorway, prompting everyone to take another step back.
They’re getting closer, Yuri reported.
“How’s it coming with negotiations?” Dave asked, turning to Lyla.
“Still working on it,” she said. “Give me a bit more time. I know I can convince her.”
Ellen could hear the servitor’s heavy feet pound against the floor. It was close, too close. They were running out of time.
“Fuck it,” she said. “I’m going out there. I can’t wait all day.”
“No! I have an idea.” Lyla suddenly replied. “Mom, if you’re watching, pay close attention to what happens next!” she cried out.
Before Ellen even had time to respond, the servitor rounded the doorway and turned. It aimed both cannons inside the room. Ellen raised her weapon and aimed for its head, despite knowing that its armor was too thick for her weapon to do any real damage.
Just as Ellen was prepared to pull the trigger, Lyla jumped in front of her, positioning herself like a shield. She held both arms out wide. Ellen let go of the trigger.
The servitor stood motionless for a second, as did each one of them in the room. Ellen’s heart raced. She had no idea what would happen next. Then, as a shock to them all, the robot slowly lowered both its arms and took a few steps back, away from the doorway.
Ellen let out a deep sigh of relief. They were safe. She could not believe they were safe.
Lyla wiped some sweat from her face and turned to face the others. Her face was pale white in fear.
“Oh my god,” she muttered.
“Thank you, Lyla. I can’t believe that worked!” Dave said.
“Don’t thank me. Thank my mother,” she replied. Lyla turned around to face the hall again. “Come, stay close behind me. Apparently, I’m your ticket out of here.”
Lyla ran out of the room. The other three stuck closely to her back. Two mercs stood out in the open hall. They lowered their weapons as Lyla passed by, staring at their targets with a look of disgust.
It was working. It was really working.
Just through this door here, Yuri said, referring to a door straight ahead at the end of the hall. The words Hangar 03 were painted on the nearby wall.
Hacking into the door controls now, Gloria added. And… done.
The door opened, revealing a small hangar on the other side. The room was filled with mercs, each aiming their respective weapons at the doorway. There must have been dozens of them, far too many to count.
Lyla stood firmly in front of the others. She held both arms out wide.
“Do not shoot!” she declared. “I am Lyla, daughter to Captain Daltus. The captain has ordered that I stay alive.”
The mercenaries all lowered their weapons at once and glared at them.
“She’s ordered us to stand down,” one of the men finally said. He stared at her as if he wanted to rip Lyla’s head clean off her body, but was powerless to touch her.
Lyla let out a deep sigh of relief as she processed the news.
“Good,” she said, nodding her head. “Good.”
Ellen held onto her weapon anyway. She had been in enough double-crosses to know not to trust a ceasefire.
Come on, let’s take a ship and get out of here, Yuri said.
“Here, this one will do.” Ellen motioned to the nearest craft, a small pleasure ship large enough to fit a dozen or so passengers.
Running a diagnostic report now, Yuri said. The ship appears to be in good condition. I’d say it’s a solid choice.
“Good, then we’re taking it,” Ellen replied. She walked up to the ship and lowered its rear door. “Come on,” she said to her friends.
They all made it inside. Ellen quickly raised the door back up, locking them in. Once safely inside, Dave and Natalie dropped to the floor and let out a deep breath of relief.
Ellen did not waste any time. She promptly moved up to the cockpit.
“We’re not out of this yet,” she said. “Just because the mercs stood down, it doesn’t mean Daltus is through with us.”
Ellen powered on the ship. Its engines hummed.
“Where do you suggest we go next, Corporal?” Lyla asked, entering the cockpit behind her.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Ellen replied. She turned to face her new partner as the ship raised up from the hangar floor. “We’re going to Mateo.”
No Place for a Mercenary
Earth Date (Revised Julian Calendar): 04.30.5673
Location: Captain Daltus’s Private Quarters, VSC Patriot, Outer edge of Thrace System, Vexa Corp Controlled Space
The VCS Patriot. Boltoc could not believe he was here. The mercenary had spent most of his life in Thrace, but he had always considered the Patriot off-limits. People like him were wise to avoid places like this. There was too much military, too many laws. And he was a criminal, one that despised Vexa Corp no less.
But now that he was here, Boltoc could not believe how impressive it all was. The Patriot was like a large city, hell, it was larger than some large cities he knew. It had its own economy, own government, own culture. The halls were wide and vast, crisscrossing and connecting this way and that like roads in a town. He found himself referring to his map time and time again just to make sense of it all.
Knock, knock, knock! Boltoc banged on the door after doublechecking the address one last time. This was the right place. He was sure of it.
Boltoc looked up to the ceiling as he stood there waiting. Cameras aimed down at him. Surely his host already knew he was here.
Moments later, the door opened. The last person Boltoc ever expected to work with stood in the doorway, holding a glass of red wine.
“Boltoc,” she greeted, “come in.”
“Captain Daltus,” he replied as he entered.
The captain wore her uniform, an obvious choice in attire. She handed him the glass, which Boltoc promptly accepted.
For the captain of a modern war vessel, her quarters looked like something out of ancient Earth. The walls were decorated in animal pelts and taxidermized kills. It was strangely comforting for someone who took pride in carving the heads from his victims.
Daltus shut the door and joined Boltoc in the center of the room.
“Please, sit,” she said, motioning to a nearby couch.
Boltoc downed all the wine in his glass and plopped himself down. He burped, then placed the empty glass on the floor.
“Alright, Captain, you got me to come all the way to the Patriot. This had better be worth it,” Boltoc said, letting out a sigh.
“It will certainly be worth it, Boltoc. I didn’t wave all that money in front of your face for nothing.” Daltus sat down across from him and took a small sip of her wine.
“With the kind of money you promised me, you could hire an army of mercenaries. You must be truly desperate,” Boltoc noted.
“I tried the army thing. It didn’t work out. I got a lot of first-timers, virgin mercs. I was worried they would hit someone important in the crossfire,” the captain explained.
“That’s what happens when you hire cheap. Their skills aren’t always honed. I thought you of all people would know that.”
“I didn’t foresee a certain complication that arose, which is why I’ve decided to hire you instead. It’s worth the investment to have this done right.” Daltus took another sip and leaned forward. “I hear you just got back from a mission in Cordovanian Alliance Space.”
“I did,” Boltoc admitted. “How did you hear about that?”
“I have my connections. It’s part of what makes me a good captain.”
“Fine, don’t tell me. I don’t care anyway,” Boltoc replied. He looked down to his empty glass on the floor. “Can I get some more wine?”
“Sure,” Daltus said as she stood up from her seat and fetched a bottle from the countertop. The bottle appeared about two thirds full. She brought it over.
Boltoc lifted his glass from the floor as she filled it up, then placed the bottle back on the counter.
“Thank you,” Boltoc said before downing everything in his glass. “It’s good to be back in Thrace. I’ve never liked traveling to the Cordovanian Alliance.”
“How long have you been back?” Daltus asked, returning to her seat.
“Not long,” Boltoc answered as he placed the empty glass back onto the floor again.
“I understand you’ve spent most of your life here,” Daltus said.
/> “I grew up here. This place is my home.”
“Ever been to the Patriot before?”
“Not the Patriot, no,” he said, shaking his head. “This is perhaps the one place in Thrace I have never visited, until today that is.”
“Well I hope you find your first visit aboard my vessel comfortable.”
“It’s an impressive ship, if that’s what you mean.”
“Good. I like to keep it that way.” Daltus sipped her wine once more and locked eyes with her guest. “Do you know why I’ve called you here?”
“I’m assuming you have a job for me.”
“I do,” she confirmed. “I need you to kill three people and two AI, but they are traveling with a fourth person who I need alive and unharmed.”
“A captive?”
“Not necessarily,” Daltus replied with a sigh. “Trust me, this would be a whole lot easier if she was a captive.”
“A co-conspirator, then?”
“You could say that.”
“Someone close to you?”
“My daughter.”
“Aah, now I see,” Boltoc said, shifting in his chair. He even let out a brief chuckle. “Now this is getting interesting. Having some mother/daughter issues, are you?”
“That’s none of your business. What matters is that she must be kept alive.”
Boltoc nodded and raised both hands to the air, defensively.
“Don’t worry, Captain, I understand. You can rest assured; your daughter will not be harmed.”
“Good. If she is, you won’t get paid for any of this.”
“What about the other three humans and two AI? The ones you want killed?”
“The two AI are paired with the humans, so if you kill the humans, you kill their AI. That should make things easier. There’s a reporter named Natalie. She’ll be the easiest to eliminate. Then there’s Cutter, a former Vexa Corp pilot.”
“And the last target?”
“This is where it gets good,” Daltus shifted in her chair and leaned forward. “This is why I knew you of all people could deliver. The last target is Ellen Milsen.”
“Ellen Milsen?” Boltoc repeated. It sounded too good to be true. Milsen was supposedly dead or lost for thousands of years somewhere near Vexa Prime.