Mercs!

by Dorian Dawes

  Nergal took a sweeping bow. “Coming from you, my dear, those are words of high praise. With some tailoring, it’ll prove useful for carrying around my…concoctions.”

  “I’ve read your file,” Talisha said. “There was nothing in it about tailoring.”

  Nergal moved in terrifyingly close, his visor a mere inch away from her face. She raised her arm cannon to his chin in a warning measure. He smiled lecherously, resting his chin against the barrel of the cannon.

  “There is much about me that isn’t in my file, bounty hunter.”

  “I’m well aware. I saw the research station over Pluribon. How many died by your hand?”

  “Hundreds, thousands, millions, billions…” Nergal waved his hands about his head, as if plucking the numbers straight out of the air. “What does it matter?”

  “Exaggerating the deaths of innocents is in poor taste,” Talisha said, her tone icy. “Even for you.”

  Bluebird swatted them away from each other with a casual swipe of her thick, meaty hand. “Might we dispense with shared body counts on the road? Our quarry is reaching city limits.”

  Chapter Two

  MR. SNIDELY WAITED by the scorpion, a tactical open-roofed vehicle capable of carrying six passengers with a large machine gun mounted to the rear end. Scorpions offered little in the way of protection but could outrun most vehicles on any terrain. Protection didn’t interest him anyway. Shields endangered those who hid behind them, luring them into complacency.

  Snidely knew the dangers. He’d handpicked the worst mercenaries and bounty hunters in the galaxy for this assignment, and it wasn’t ’cause he thought they’d protect him. All great gambles had an element of risk to them. If you’re not willing to bet it all, then there’s no point in playing.

  He’d always been fairly small, borderline petite. His features were narrow and angular. The lenses of his spectacles made him look more like a fly than a man. He spent most of his time in a darkened little room staring at a monitor all day, rendering him sickly and pale. Barely in his twenties and already he stooped like a withered old man.

  Snidely could see four figures approaching from Dover Town. He parted his thin pink lips into a wide, unsavory grin. He steepled his fingers and allowed himself a celebratory chuckle.

  “Calculations proved correct, only four survived. Shame about the armor. Would have been useful. Might’ve gotten a raise if I’d managed to secure it. Pity.”

  As they neared, his smile faded. The android, the mercenary, the doctor, and the bounty hunter all had guns trained on him. This was unexpected, though not out of the realm of plausibility. His only question was why he hadn’t elected to wait inside the scorpion.

  Snidely threw his hands in surrender as they approached. He nodded politely as Talisha approached. “Ah. Yes. I’m Blake Snidely, your representative. Lovely time at the saloon?”

  Beads of sweat appeared on the sides of his face. His heart leapt into his throat. No one had ever aimed a gun at him before.

  Bluebird stepped forward, the plasma cannon in her arms humming and whirring as it charged. “Do you see this? Her name is Ethel. She does not like you.”

  “I was told one thing,” Talisha added, taking her place beside Bluebird. “These folks were told another. Thought you could get your grubby capitalist hands on some alien technology, did ya?”

  Snidely attempted a casual shrug despite his shaking. “I imagine I’m not the first. Though capitalist is a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

  Nergal shook his head. “Tsk, tsk. Don’t speak, lovely. We’ve come to the conclusion that while we might be hired killers looking to make some extra credits, you’re an absolute idiot. You arranged for all those people to get killed as a litmus test. Brilliant, up until you double-crossed the likes of us. Ever see what happens when I kiss someone?”

  Snidely almost shit himself. His face went somehow even paler. His eyes watered and his knees buckled. It’d gone too far. This was it, he was going to die.

  “What do you want?” he whimpered.

  “Who are you working for?” Talisha snapped. “What are they after?”

  “I can’t say,” Snidely said, his voice harried. “If I tell you, losing my job will be the least of my worries.”

  “I’d say Nergal’s kiss is more your worry right now,” Bluebird sneered.

  In response, Nergal moved a gloved hand to his visor gradually lifting it but an inch off his face. Snidely recoiled from the stench. It was the unmistakable smell of death.

  “All right,” he panted. “It’s Plymouth. I work for Plymouth.”

  Talisha’s brow furrowed. “Never heard of them.”

  “No files on such a company exist on the Datanet,” Rogers said, taking a moment to process the statement. “He’s a lying dog.”

  Snidely stammered, backing away from Nergal. “Y-y-ou might have heard of our subsidiaries. The Ingle Corporation, perhaps?”

  Bluebird spit. She threw her cannon to the ground and charged. She snatched Snidely off his feet by his collar and raised her fist with a mighty roar. He screamed, shielding his face with his elbows. One punch from a Karstotzkiyan could shatter his entire skull.

  “You work for Ingle!” Her screams were deafening.

  Rogers cocked his pistol and aimed it at the back of her head. “Drop him, Agda.”

  “This slimy sunnuva beetch bought you from your home!” Bluebird roared, not breaking eye-contact. “Who will miss him if I crack his head open like runny eggs?”

  “That’s right, and as such I’m his legal property. That puts him under the protections I formerly provided for the good folks of Dover. So, if ya don’t mind, put down my boss.”

  Bluebird growled. “I would be doing you a favor, metal-man.”

  “That you would, but that also doesn’t get us very far, now does it?”

  “We’re more than Ingle if that helps,” Snidely whimpered. “We’re a shadow conglomerate that covers everything from the Cobra Media Network, to the Crimson Expeditionary Forces. All work for us at Plymouth, even the ones that look like they’re competing.”

  “Why the secrecy?” Talisha said. “If your claims are true, that makes you the wealthiest and most powerful corporation in the galaxy.”

  “It’s common practice actually,” Snidely said, “If you’d put me down, dear Agda, I’d be happy to explain it to you.”

  “Big Blue, be a dear?” Talisha asked, lowering her arm cannon.

  Bluebird squinted at the tiny man squirming in her grip. “Only because the pretty woman said so, do I let you live. Understood?”

  “Completely!” Snidely yelped a bit too loudly.

  Bluebird released her grip, letting him fall a good three feet to the ground. He collapsed into a crumpled heap in the sand, coughing and sputtering. He rose, knees almost buckling beneath him for a second, and brushed the dirt off his expensive suit.

  “Shadow companies,” Talisha said. “Explain.”

  “Right, well it’s all very simple. Operating in public leaves one open to scrutiny, the rise and falls of public opinion and how it affects the stock market,” Snidely explained. “Add any political turmoil to that mix, in a galaxy where planet-destroying weapons are gradually becoming a thing, and you can imagine why many corporations would want a private backer.”

  “Someone to fall back on in case they get blown to smithereens or dissolve completely to financial ruin,” Nergal said. “It’s insidious. I love it.”

  Snidely nodded. “That’s where companies like Plymouth come in, monolithic entities whose primary function is the purchase of other companies looking for a big brother to watch over their shoulder, as it were. We stabilize economies, and most importantly, when was the last corporate war you’ve heard of? Fifteen years ago, if I’m right?”

  “Fourteen,” Bluebird muttered darkly. “I rose in ranks quickly in that war. When I was part of the Sapphire Knights. I was a hero in those days.”

  “And you want to know who brokered the peace
between Ingle and Havron? Plymouth. Both companies have been operating alongside each other ever since. Now, each company is for the most part allowed to run the way they see fit, with only the occasional oversight, so of course some things do slip through the cracks.”

  “Don’t insult me,” Bluebird spat. “I can see you aren’t to blame, though. You’re nothing more than a stooge.”

  “I’m sure your shadow status also lets you engage in a lot of extra-legal loopholes too,” Talisha said, her disgust for the man rising by the second.

  “Ah!” Snidely raised a finger and smiled. “Not so much as one might think. Yes, we do have teams of legal people to work alongside our asset companies to help protect our interests, but extra-legal activity is something we’re loathe to partake in. The IGF isn’t necessarily oblivious to our existence, but with no certifiable proof and no reason to go looking for it, they’ve come to leave well enough alone, and that’s honestly just a better way to do business. Don’t you think?”

  “And the treasure?” Nergal said, his eyes glinting with greed. “I’m far more curious about the treasure than your silly secret paperwork. What does such a corporate powerhouse want with a lost alien treasure?”

  “In all honesty?”

  Snidely opened the door to the scorpion and dug around inside for a metallic briefcase. He brought it to the hood of the vehicle and flipped it open, retrieving a datapad from its contents. A three-dimensional, emerald holo-projection flickered into view over the pad. It depicted a topographical layout of the planet before splitting off into an adjacent screen revealing what appeared to be a vast trapezoidal structure. Esoteric alien symbols appeared in vertical formations on either side of the image.

  “A Valran Temple,” Talisha said. “There aren’t supposed to be any left in the galaxy.”

  “So they’re real…” Nergal breathed. “I’d always thought them the stuff of superstitious locals.”

  “Plymouth has been aware of the existence of the Valran ever since your mother started showing up on our radar,” Snidely explained.

  “Mom doesn’t talk about them much.” Talisha shook her head.

  Snidely sniffed. “I can’t imagine she would. Rumor has it she was raised by the Valran before they perished under mysterious circumstances. Many rumors do circulate about that woman and her armor.”

  “But what about the temple?!” Nergal shrieked, pointing eagerly at the screen.

  Snidely’s eyes glazed over as tones of longing crept into his voice. “The appearance of the original Talisha Artul led us to believe that more remnants of Valran technology were scattered throughout the galaxy. They were a nomadic people after all.

  “We’ve found some artifacts here and there, but nothing like what was uncovered here.” Snidely clasped his hands neatly in front of him. “Plymouth would like to know what the Valran knew. It’s possible they recorded everything in a database within the temple.”

  “But the treasure,” Bluebird’s shoulders stiffened. “Was that a lie too?”

  “Knowledge is better than treasure,” Snidely said, shrugging.

  She turned her back on him and walked away, throwing her hands in the air in disgust. “Ugh, I wanted loot. Bluebird go bye-bye.”

  Snidely was unprepared for how fast and far Bluebird could stride. He raced after her on spindly legs, promising a hefty sum in exchange for her services. The datapad lay abandoned on the hood of the scorpion. Talisha folded her arms over her chest and continued staring at the graphic display.

  “Rogers?” she said, rubbing her hand over her chin. “Is there any way to verify this?”

  Rogers stood still for a moment. “I could hack the datapad, get a good reading on what this city-slicker’s up to. Not sure if I’ve a right to seeing as how this fella owns me and all.”

  Talisha groaned. “Rogers, ignore Nergal. The man is a sadistic terrorist and mass murderer. He’s unlikely to say anything of value.”

  Nergal sneered in her direction. He went immediately back to staring at the holographic image with rapt fascination. A hungry look had entered in his eyes.

  Talisha placed a firm hand on Rogers’s shoulder, then removed her helmet. “Listen, after this job. I’m gonna see what strings I can pull with the IGF to have you declared sentient. That renders anyone’s ownership of you illegal. You wouldn’t be the first, so it’s completely doable.”

  “Why would ya do that for me?”

  She looked dead serious. “It’s the right thing to do. No better reason than that.”

  He nodded and snatched the datapad up in his fingers. “I can wirelessly transmit my conscious into any machine connected to the Datanet.”

  Nergal’s mouth fell open, stunned. “We had androids of your make and model back on Pluribon. None of them could do such a thing.”

  “I tweak now and again, Doctor.” Rogers fell silent. The holo display flickered as his brain probed the files contained within.

  Nergal shrugged his shoulders and looked to the horizon. Whatever Snidely said to Bluebird must have convinced her. She marched back to them at her own pace with the tiny man riding her shoulders.

  Nergal turned to Rogers, licking his lips. “Better hurry, cowboy. The boss is on his way.”

  “Gonna have to prematurely disconnect,” Rogers said hurriedly.

  The projection fizzled for a moment and the lights faded from Rogers’s eyes. Talisha stared worriedly. She snapped her fingers several times in front of his face.

  “Rogers? Sheriff? You okay there?”

  “Sentient androids sending their consciousness floating through the Datanet,” Nergal muttered, then made a disapproving click of his tongue. “Unprecedented. Who knows what he might have picked up in there? Likely killed him.”

  “You’re so helpful, Doctor,” Talisha groaned. She shook Rogers’s shoulders. “Dammit! Wake up!”

  The lights returned to the android’s eyes and the projection flickered back into view just as Bluebird and Snidely arrived. Talisha returned her helmet to her head and hid her panic beneath her visor. Bluebird dropped Snidely unceremoniously to the ground.

  Bluebird smiled. “He agreed to double our prices. All of them. Robot also goes free. It is only fair.”

  “A woman who is not to be underestimated,” Talisha said, nodding. “So, how about it, Snidely? Where is this temple?”

  “Hold yer horses.” It was a gravelly voice, new and unfamiliar, still tinged with Rogers’s twangy accent, but far meaner. The android retrieved his pistol and aimed it at Snidely’s head. “Rogers was willing to take your bullshit, but now I’m in charge and I’m thinking I want a share of the loot.”

  “What do you mean, Rogers isn’t in charge?” Snidely sputtered.

  “Multiple operating systems. Multiple personality subroutines. This one just woke up. Name’s Cyrus, ya heard it?”

  “I’m hearing it now,” Snidely said with a nod. “Very well, you’ll get your fair share of the credits. Six million credits, split four ways. Sound reasonable enough?”

  Talisha stared, dumbfounded. She could hardly believe it was true. Then again, she’d seen stranger things. She shook her head and tried to ignore her growing sense of unease.

  Cyrus lowered the pistol and nodded. “I think we’ll get along just dandy. Let’s hit the trails, I’m eager to shoot something.”

  “Won’t be that easy,” Snidely coughed, turning the datapad off and sliding it back into the briefcase. “The Valran put a great deal of security into this temple, and only the proper key can open it. It’s currently being held by a tribe of bandits several miles from here.”

  “We kill bandits. Take key. Go to temple. Claim treasure.” Bluebird shrugged. “Not difficult. Let’s go! I will drive.”

  “Sure. You drive. Why not?” Snidely groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

  Nergal laughed at his expression, an unpleasant wheezing noise full of more menace than mirth. Snidely’s heart sank deep into his chest as he understood he’d be
spending a significant amount of time with these individuals.

  “Tried to manipulate the game and feeling in over your head now, Mr. Snidely?” Nergal asked.

  “A biological terrorist, a famous bounty hunter, an eight-foot-tall fugitive with a cannon, and an android with a split-personality,” Snidely said, adjusting his tie. “This is nothing compared to the shark-infested waters of the boardroom. I should be fine.”

  Nergal’s eyes narrowed watching Snidely climb into the back of the Scorpion. He rubbed his thumb and finger together, turning to gaze at the barren wasteland. “Of course. Everything is under control.”

  PLYMOUTH WAS TOO smart to have its primary offices and functions confined to a single location. They spread across several satellites cloaked on the fringes of IGF-protected space. The Mayflower was Plymouth’s cutting-edge military-grade satellite, armed with a mean-ass laser capable of wiping all organic life on a planet’s surface. It’d only fired once in its original testing phase. They’d had to lay off six million employees just to cover the cost of a single shot.

  Some had already suggested using it to clear Archimedes IV before sending out a clean-up team. They were terminated shortly thereafter. The proposition would have been ludicrously expensive, setting back any potential profits gained.

  Still, Madame Inspector was not one to leave things to chance. She ordered the Mayflower to Archimedes IV. The Valran Temple had taken priority.

  She stood on the edge of a balcony overlooking several stations on the front end of the satellite, her arms folded behind her back. A domed window showed the ruined planet of Archimedes IV and the black void of space beyond. A part of her twinged with jealousy that the little pissant Snidely got to traipse about down there, while she hadn’t set foot on a planet’s surface in 35 years. It couldn’t be helped at this point, she was too important to Plymouth’s operations and held too many secrets to risk it all by gallivanting around with mercenaries.

  Footsteps echoed behind her. She groaned softly, leaning against the bronze railing of the balcony. A single moment without interruption was impossible. These incompetents simply could not exist without her oversight.