Interlude
Interlude
Standby
//
SPATIAL
CHECK
>
DATE:
11.03.7088
>
TIME:
10:45:59
UST
(UNIVERSAL
STANDARD TIME)
// LOCATION TRIANGULATION
> SYSTEM: LOUPGARO
>>
BODY: CYGNUS PRIME
>>> SETTLEMENT:
[REDACTED]
>>>> LOCAL: DARK
LOTUS IRON WALL
HQ
Shimada
Konyo
straightened her flight jacket, her ranking badge displayed proudly
on her chest. She smoothed back her jet black hair, pulled into a
tight bun, and waited, her
back to the windows.
The VIP
lounge gave a clear view to the barren moon, the lack of atmosphere
giving an unhindered view to the ocean of stars.
The moon
settlement still
had original pre-fabs
from the Aurate Era;
the lounge contained
well-cared-for colonial furniture that emphasised
a comfort lost to the utilitarianism of the Severance.
The remnants of violent
altercations from over
the millennia were left
on full display as badges of honour. The
bullet holes
in the panelled walls, the laser
burns in the authentic
oak,
knife
gouges in the leather
cushions, just to name
a few.
Shimada
breathed in, savouring the smells of the lounge, igniting a sense of
primal familiarity that spoke to her soul. The cured leather, freshly
oiled wood, and old, smokey whiskey.
“Hey,”
a baritone, familiar
voice cut through the tense silence, making her blink
in surprise and annoyance.
“Húndàn,”
she
swore under her breath. “Void
me,
Miller. How is it you and Az always sneak up on me?”
“They
don’t call him Yōuhún
for
nothing. You were watching the reception and access hall, but you
forgot
the barrack exit.”
Miller chuckled, thinking
of the ‘Wandering Ghost’,
and
sidled
up to her, offering a nondescript flask. She held her hand up,
dropping it back down to her side, only
sparing a glare at the older man.
“You seem tense. You’ve been through performance reviews before.”
“When
everyone’s
entire
career is on the line every time, it
puts the pressure on a little bit.” She ran a palm over her head
again, feeling for any stray strands that would betray her inner
state.
“Don’t
worry about me and Az. He’ll
probably be up for promotion, again. Which he will decline, again.
I
just want to retire at some point,” Miller took a long draught of
his flask, sitting down on the worn,
leather sofa
scuffed
with centuries worth of wear and tear.
“Carla and Jake are the ones you really have to worry about.
They’ll end up in jail before their severance package hits.”
Shimada
made a strangled noise at the back of her throat, letting her head
roll on her shoulders before snapping back up to attention. “I
thought the role of 2-I-C was to make my life easier, not plunge me
deeper into a spiral.”
Miller
chuckled, stretching his legs and crossing them at his ankles. He
ruffled his peppery hair, his
crow’s feet deepening with his smile. “Who told you that? Cause
they were dead wrong. My job is to make sure you stay alive long
enough to get us paid.”
“Ah,
yes,” she muttered,
rolling her eyes,
before releasing her
stiff posture and pacing back and forth.
“Relegated to being the paycheck guarantor. Love the loyalty.”
Miller
uncrossed his legs
being careful not to
knock the original oak wood coffee table with
his mag-soled combat
boots.
“You’re a merc, Shi-Shi. You know the loyalty goes as far as the
paycheck. If you wanted fanatic loyalty, you’d have signed up to
The Iron Circle.”
Shimada
involuntarily shivered at the name, and muttered under breath. “Bunch
of crazy ass lemmings, spending
lives like a gambler at the casino
decks.” She
turned to him, frowning. “Shouldn’t you be on leave? I wasn’t
expecting any of you for another two weeks.”
“I
on leave. I’m not working.” Miller threw his arms over the back
of the couch, sinking deeper in the worn leather. “Carla
and Jake are on Station 85, and Az is… well… visiting
family I think.”
“Again?”
Shimada smoothed her jacket, her mouth open to ask more when the
access hall doors slid open. Both she
and Miller snapped to attention, Miller moving with a nimbleness that
belied his age.
“Shimada
Konyo? Command is ready for you.” A prim younger lady, brown hair
pulled tight into a high ponytail and wide glasses framing
her brown eyes, walked
towards them, a Slim-Deck held tightly against her chest.
“Show
time, boss,” Miller whispered, his hands fisted behind his back.
“Show
time,” Shimada muttered back with a sigh, marching forward to
follow the secretary. The
scarred doors slid shut behind her, sealing her in with the vultures
of Command.
//
SPATIAL
CHECK
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
>
DATE:
11.03.7088
>
TIME:
13:59:30
UST
(UNIVERSAL
STANDARD TIME)
// LOCATION TRIANGULATION
>
SYSTEM:
INTERSTELLAR
SPACE
>>
BODY: >>>
SETTLEMENT:
WAYSTATION #0085
>>>>
LOCAL: STATION
HOSPITAL (WARD 2)
A
muscle-bound man
yawned loudly, his mouth almost splitting his head open. He leaned
his head back against the wall, the too-small hospital chair creaking
ominously, ruffling
his faded blue mohawk.
“Carla,
stop fidgeting. They’ll strap you down again,” he reached over
and grasped her wrist. Her hands had been inching
closer to the nurse call button. Again.
“Come
on Jake, I
just want out, void
take me,”
the pink haired cyborg gripped the sheets tightly, one of her hands
mechanical. “I was only hallucinating for three days.”
“’Only’,
she says,” Jake grumbled, bags under his eyes. “Carl, you tried
to open the airlock without a suit because you thought there were
spiders in the ventilation. The doctors had to sedate you twice.
I
was the one who only
had ‘mild poisoning’.”
“What
was it they said it was? Five
other systems had the same thing?” Carla wriggled herself deeper in
the bed, tugging at the various IV lines, tubes and cables she was
plugged in to.
“Some
new party drug,” Jake repeated himself, gazing longingly at the
ceiling, wishing Miller or Shimada were here to babysit instead.
“First time they’ve
seen it. Killed seventeen
people so far. Word
is the recyclers can't filter it out. Once it's in the water loop, it
just keeps cycling. Or maybe it was just a bad batch of Ceti
Vat-gin.
Who knows.”
“I
hope not, Ceti gin is the best in the Iron Wall. And only
seventeen
people?” Carla leaned back, her organic hand slowly sliding towards
the small wireless remote she was hiding with her leg. “With five
systems, you’d think it’d be more.”
Jake
gestured at the curtain leading to the outside, “You haven’t gone
out the hallway, they’ve started stacking gurneys against the
walls, it’s that bad. I said seventeen so .
You’re waiting for new kidneys, I heard three different people are waiting
for stomachs and a liver.”
Carla
stilled, her organic hand going down to her abdomen. “Gold
Pharma really voided it, they
won’t get customers after this.”
The
burly man shrugged, hands clasping behind his head. “That’s
the point. We’re expendable. They don’t care. I’m just glad
you’re alive.” He
sighed, forcing her leg down with his cybernetic arm and confiscating
the remote, fending off her attempts to grab it back. “Fucking
behave before I
strap
you down, Carl. I don’t want to get yelled at again.”
“Fuck
you, I’m .
I hate bed rest. I hate feeling like shit. I hate hate hate all of
this fucking fanfare.”
“Just
like Miller says, life lesson unlocked: don’t take weird pills from
strangers at a club,” Jake grumbled, leaning forward to rest his
arms on his knees. “So far I’ve seen two other people from
different ships
that were at the Volts that night.”
“I
don’t even remember taking
a pill.” Carla ran her biological hand through her hair, rotating
her metal hand on its joint as she tried to think. “All I remember
were flashes; I was making out with some red-head, drinking
and
dancing,
then you were helping me back to the DL barracks.
Did I do something weird?”
“Yeah,
you were fucking handsy as all-void,” Jake shifted uncomfortably,
going
green around the gills. “I
knew something was wrong when you tried to kiss me. ,
I still feel gross.” He
shook his head violently, retching slightly, as a
involuntary shudder coursed up his spine.
“You
think Az got hit too?” Carla murmured quietly, leaning closer to
him with a quick glance around them. The walls
felt awfully thin and exposing.
“Probably,”
Jake leaned away, rubbing his neck uncomfortably. “He was meant to
leave on a job the next day, he might have had said no to pills, but
I definitely saw him drinking.”
“Right
that solo thing. Miller and Shi-shi know about that right? I thought
we
were
meant to be on leave.”
Jake’s
eyes darted to the side, clearing
his throat. “Course they know. It's... classified ops. Special
permission.”
Carla
rolled her eyes. “Sure, I see. Well, whatever it is, I hope he
saves some action for us. Once I get these tubes out, I need a
payout. My credits
are
shrivelling
up
faster than my
kidneys did.”
She paused, a glint entering her organic eye. “What about that open
bounty? The big
one that’s
on the open
prio-board?”
Jake
stiffened, his expression shifting from tired to stone-cold serious.
“Don’t even think about it, Carl. That’s
Nightshade level.”
“Why
not? It’s Nightshade
level
payout available
to anyone.
‘Find the missing heiress’.
Sounds easy enough. A simple retrieval job.”
“It’s
not simple, we’re
Strikers.
It’s a death sentence, we
let the Nightshades and Gilders take it.”
Jake leaned in, lowering his voice so the nurses passing by wouldn't
hear. “Shi-shi gave us a standing order: anything
involving James Rourke is off-limits. Doesn't matter if it's a
bounty, a retrieval, or walking his dog. We don't touch it. That
heiress is James
Rourke’s fiancée.
No
one touches the
fiancée.”
“How
the fuck do you know that’s his girl?” Carla looked at him with
suspicion.
Jake
rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Cause I overheard Shi-Shi
pull Az aside and warn him. Threatened demotion, fines, timeout, the
whole shebang. Never seen Shimada look that desperate. She was more
worried he’d sleep with the
woman.”
“The
girl’s a curvy brunette?” Carla’s eyes widened, whispering
conspiratorially.
“’Prima
donna’ and ‘high-maintenance socialite’,” Jake said,
holding his hands up, making
air quotes. “Az laughed at her. Said she sounded boring anyway. I
dunno, he seemed weird.”
Carla
rolled her eyes, turning the TV on with her stolen remote, Jake
blinking at the action. “Well,
if he
already thinks she’s
boring, we’re safe. Az never chases boring. He’ll stick to the
good
moonshine
and available
locals. Like that curly brunette he scoped out before we even got in.
”
Jake
gave
her
a
side-eyed glare about
the remote
before watching
the news ticker scroll across the screen - another report about the
'Unknown
Poisoning' event
across
the sector.
“I
dunno,” Jake murmured, a frown creasing his brow. He crossed his
mismatched arms over his chest, the cybernetic whirring with the
movement. “Az wouldn’t think someone is boring unless he’s met
them. And that girl seemed off. Not ‘Liberated’ off, just...
expensive. Shouting her friends drinks almost the entire time she was
there.” Jake thought back to that night, before he realised
something had gone wrong with Carla. Watching Az and the girl leave.
“He
seemed… so
focused on her. And her
friend seemed really attached to her, too. Tried
to stop them from leaving.”
“You
mean the pack of vultures? Which friend are
you talking about?”
“The
red-head. I think it was the same one you were making out with.”