October 4, 2111
James Stone
We were now a rogue squad, free to be hunted down - or worse. Never did I think our outlook would dip this low. But I would sacrifice everything many times over to save Captain Landis. And I'm glad I'm not riding this train on my own. I have my family here, and we're prepared to search the very ends of this galaxy to one rescuing another family member.
I waited inside the loading bay of the Hauler, seated on top of an empty supply crate. Valiic was next to me, on a crate of his own. He and I were in conversation as we neared Hondora.
Slam.
I heard the cockpit door close, but through the dim light I couldn't make out who it was at first. The silhouette shaped into Uslar as he approached us.
I gestured for him to join us, welcoming him. He shot me an angry frown, and his vantors fluttered with rage. "What's got your arm in a twist?" I asked.
"What are we doing, James?" he snapped.
"The answer to that should already be in your head. No point in asking."
"James, we have gone rogue! Don't you understand the severity?"
"I do," I answered with confidence but had little grasp on the possible consequences that would await my return to the ARW. To dig the hole deeper, I didn't even know if bringing Landis back alive would buy me a pass on this whole matter. Likely it wouldn't, but that was a pen I would pocket for the time being.
"James, I thought I knew what I was getting into, but… but I'm regretting it. We shouldn't be doing this!"
Valiic jumped in, "Uslar, you're here now, and I'd say there's little room to turn back."
"Yes, there is! We can go back now. No, we should… we should go back now. Maybe then we'd only have minor consequences."
"No, no!" I shouted. "Landis will not eat a bullet for my mistake!"
"James. You're not thinking clearly. Guilt has its hold on you." Uslar looked at Valiic. "Talk some sense into James!"
Valiic took a deep breath. "James is on a warrior's quest, and sometimes that requires going against what others believe is right."
"Then what are we doing here if it's his quest?"
"I can't answer that question for you, Uslar. Me… I'm here to aid my friend in his journey."
"That's complete bull! Breaking protocol never pans out! That's why it's there in the first place!"
I got up and placed my hand on his slim shoulder. "Landis would have done it for any one of us."
Uslar looked up to me with remorse. "No… no, I don't think Landis would."
"What?"
"She wouldn't, James. She goes by the book. If you, me, or Valiic were in her position, she wouldn't come. She'd just mourn."
I looked into his eyes, and what I saw shocked me. I knew Uslar believed what he was saying was true, but I couldn't. No, I wouldn't believe something so absurd. She wouldn't abandon family, would she?
"Am I interrupting a moment?" Shadow-Walker was at the door. "We're nearly there."
He headed back toward the cockpit, and I got up to follow. Inside the cockpit, I gazed at the hologram projection displaying the path ahead of the Hauler. We flew over thousands of industrial monstrosities this planet calls buildings; smoke spewed from wide pipes extending off the roofs, and workers as small as ants labored in the streets. Hondora was once a barren planet until it was terraformed. Now, industries and corporations cover the entirety of the surface, and beneath it all is the Underlevel - layers of levels spanning under the industrial planet. It's a place of residency for those daring enough to live there. Furthermore, the Underlevel is host to all sorts of illegal activities, such as black markets, prostitution, gangs, drugs, hit man hire, and worse. The lower you travel beneath the surface of Hondora, the higher the crime activity, and the worse the crimes.
The rain pelted the roof of our Hauler and thunder cracked overhead as it lowered itself in one of the many entrances into the Underlevel, each shaped like octagons and lowered further than eyes could see. Once we reached the correct level, Shadow-Walker directed the lycargan through the traffic tunnel to the nearby Kemmer's Bar. We landed, and Shadow-Walker put the barrel of his scout rifle to the lycargan.
"Should I dispose of him?" The lycargan braced, closing his eyes.
For a second I considered it, then I remembered what Landis was trying to tell me on Juster. "What use would that bring us? He has no jemns, and the Hauler is on its last drop of fuel. He'll be a rat in a trap down here."
"It's your lucky day," Shadow-Walker said to the lycargan before knocking him out with the butt of his scout rifle.
I was the first one out of the Hauler. Since we were below the surface of Hondora, the rain and lightning could no longer reach us. Unfortunately, there were far more dangerous variables to worry about in the Underlevel.
The docking bay was full of life. Ships were docked all around, shady individuals glanced at us with suspicion before continuing with their business, and an outdoor fighting club was taking place on our left; individuals shouted and cheered the two men in the fighting cage. Kemmer's Bar lit up the surrounding area, adding some levity to the place.
I walked through the atmospheric doors and was welcomed by the warm air inside Kemmer's Bar. A hostess greeted us, while others gave us bilious stares. With my crew behind me, I walked to the center bar table and all five of us sat down at empty bar stools.
Kemmer's Bar had an atmosphere closer to a tavern than a bar, with the smell of wood and stylized country music to lighten the mood. The décor was inviting, and the furniture was spread enough to allow for plenty of pockets for those seeking some privacy. A prestigious collection of alcohol from all across the known galaxy fed the vastly different beings within these walls. Various cultures mingled together, resulting in an atmosphere you could only find at Kemmer's Bar.
"Do you have the mercenary in your sight?" I asked Shadow-Walker, who was sitting to the right of me.
He nodded to the opposite corner of the bar at a booth slightly hidden behind curtains. "That's her. That's Erryn Wolph."
I bent my head down and peeked over to keep myself from looking suspicious. Erryn was speaking with a jenjarian male, who sat across from her. Her legs crossed over the table while she flipped a stasis coin in the air over and over. It was powered by the same material as my stasis shield, only it was the size of a coin. To hide her face, she wore a worn-down, brown western hat with two gold laced strings tied around it. A tattered scarf rested below her breathing mask but above her body armor. Her right arm had been replaced with a robotic arm, and a golden-ink skelven, a galactic symbol of survival, was tattooed on her left arm. Her skelven tattoo was animated, showing she spent a lot of jemns to have it done. Around her waist she carried two ballistic revolvers holstered on a utility belt.
"Would you care for a beer?" one of the bartenders behind the counter asked me.
"Bring six Woodstones to that table over there once we sit." I nodded toward the table where the mercenary sat.
The jenjarian man was in conversation with Erryn, but she wasn't listening. Frustrated, the jenjarian man began to yell. Because of all the commotion around me, I couldn't make out what he was saying. Slamming one hand on the table, the jenjarian man reached for his gun with the other. Erryn Wolph flipped the energy coin to the side of the table. Before he could pull out his pistol, she shot at the coin with her revolver. The bullet ricocheted off the coin and pierced the man in heart. He was dead before he got off a shot. All eyes flashed toward the incident before returning to their drinking and conversations. It was as if nothing happened.
"She just shot a man dead, and nobody gives a rat's ass!" I blurted out to Shadow-Walker.
"Welcome to daily life at Kemmer's Bar. This place is full of scoundrels like her. And do you know what they say about a scoundrel?"
"No, I don't actually."
"They always shoot first!"
"A mercenary who knows how to handle herself. Hell, I like her already." I signaled for everyone to follow me over to her table.
The circular table was large enough to fit everyone. Erryn Wolph watched with curiosity as, one by one, we each packed around the table; all visibly avoiding stepping on the corpse. When she spoke, her voice was muffled by her mask.
"My-oh-my, it's amusing to see you back around here, Shadow. It been quite a long time." Erryn smirked.
"A pleasure as always, Erryn." He didn't sound as enthusiastic as her.
"I suppose you know her, Shadow?" Uslar asked.
"I was the one who stole his business back in the day," Erryn Wolph answered for him.
"No way. You ripped me off, Erryn. We were supposed to split deals with each other," Shadow-Walker retorted.
"Oh, sweetie. I can't help that I'm a better mercenary than you," Erryn said with a laugh.
"No, I--" Shadow-Walker failed to complete his sentence. I looked at him in amazement. I rarely saw Shadow-Walker at a loss for words.
"Six Woodstones." The bartender placed the beers on the table and left as another man dragged the dead body away from our table.
"You're an omelic, right?" Uslar asked.
"What gave it away? Was it the purple skin, the black lines running down and over my eyes, or my curvy frame?" she teased him. Her figure is a near perfect reflection of a human woman's figure. Other than the clear distinctions she'd already made, she could be mistaken for a human female. The common saying that omelics and humans came from the same tree seems to hold some merit.
She looked at me and noticed me studying her. "Howdy, big boy. It looks like I'm the first omelic you've seen."
I smiled and took a sip of my Woodstone. "Trust me, you aren't the only species I've yet to lay eyes on. Let's just say my family couldn't afford to hop around the galaxy when I was a young stud."
"That's disappointing. I've had the pleasure of a few humans, but I've never seen one with orange hair. It's kind of a turn on," Erryn flirted.
Our table filled with sexual tension. Narrisa and Valiic glanced at each other with uncomfortable expressions. Uslar remained curious about her, ignoring her suggestive words. Shadow-Walker seemed to be the only individual here who expected this. I didn't know what to say. However, Uslar decided to break the tension by stating, "Humans call them red-heads."
Shaking out of my minor trance, I began to introduce the rest of my squad. "Now, let's get to buttering the bread. I'm James Stone, this is Valiic and Narrisa, he's Uslar Kip, and you already know Shadow-Walker." I gestured to each person respectively. "We're here to hire someone for transportation and rescue."
"Sweetie, no offense, but I'm a bit out of your pay grade," she sneered.
"What's the cost?" I asked.
"Depends on many things."
"For example?"
"Such as where you want to go, where the person needs rescuing from, whether or not you'll offer assistance… etcetera… etcetera."
"In that case, we need to go to the Draynought System. We traced our person of interest to the Grando Military Prison on the moon called Delkeedo. My squad and I are elite soldiers enlisted in the ARW. Simply put, we'll pull our weight."
"Pretty big job… means you're looking at about a million jemns right there. All up front," she assessed.
"A million? Are you throwing me for a loop?! We can buy a high class transport ship for that price!"
"The charge includes my expertise and contacts, neither of which you have."
"Umm--" Uslar raised his shaky hand. "I can cover it." We all looked over at Uslar in surprise. "I'll tell you what, I'll pay you four hundred thousand upfront and seven hundred upon completion of the mission."
Still surprised, Erryn reached out her robotic arm. "Sweetie, you have yourself a deal."
"Wait!" Valiic finally jumped in. He looked at me. "Why are we about to pay this mercenary? I've yet to hear one thing about her skill or reliability," Valiic asked. Narrisa nodded in agreement.
Before I had a chance to question Erryn, she pulled up a video on her cyberwatch. It opened with a female gatero reporting the news. The reporter spoke towards the camera.
"Here we have reports from local law enforcement that the tyrannical leader of the Jerro terrorist organization has been shot in the head. A man seemingly untraceable was proven how wrong he was today. Now, the law enforcement officers won't release an official statement about the killer, but rumor suggests it is the work of the infamous Erryn Wolph - a mercenary with a job success rate virtually unheard of."
The clip changed, and we viewed a series of different news clips from different worlds, some of which I never knew were out there, and all of which were to show off Erryn's reputation.
Valiic signaled for Erryn to cut the video, and she did. "That's enough. You're everything you say you are."
"And much more." She grinned. Uslar shook her hand, and he used his cyberwatch to transfer the jemns into her vault. "I'm curious. What's a rich boy like you doing as a soldier?" Erryn asked Uslar.
"Field medic," Uslar corrected her. "I'm from a family of doctors. As doctors, my family had to learn the anatomies and diseases of dozens of species. That's where the jemns came from. All my life, I was pressured to follow the family path and become doctors like my parents. Even my two siblings followed in my parents' footsteps. I wanted to be different. So, I joined the ARW's military and train--"
"Enough with the exposition," she interrupted. "You're boring."
Shadow-Walker broke into laughter. Uslar wasn't happy at this, so I signaled for Shadow-Walker to stop. "Now that we've paid you, what's the next brick on the yellow brick road?" I asked Erryn.
Lifting her legs off the top of the table, she got up. "We head over to my ship. Come on, I'll lead you there." We followed her to a starship stationed at docking bay one - the closest bay to the bar's door. With her cyberwatch, she opened the hatch. "I call it the Striking Star." She led us into the ship.
"This is the loading bay." She gestured to the first area of her ship as we walked up the ramp. When we passed the loading bay and entered the second room, she said, "This is the common lounge. It has a bar, a bathroom, and space to relax." She pointed down the hall. "The sleeping quarters are over there." She pointed in the opposite direction. "Down there is the armory, followed by the turret docks. At the end is the cockpit. No one goes in there unless I say so. Got that? Good." She gave us no chance to answer.
I signaled for everyone to start exploring. Once my squad had dispersed, she gestured to me to come over to her. "Are we going straight to the Draynought System?" I asked her as I approached.
"Not until we make a stop first… bit out of the way. A mission like this will require precautions and a fair share of planning, meaning I need to gather blueprints, reports, and find new sources."
"And where is this mythical stop full of everything we need?"
"A town… one in particular. There's an archive library with just about everything I'll need. Only problem is… it, uh… it's a place controlled by an intergalactic gang that calls itself the Immortals. Lately, I haven't been on their good side, so entering this place may prove difficult."
"Just let me know how I can be of service."
A lascivious spark flickered in her eye. "Let me tell you a secret." She leaned in and whispered, "Qwayks aren't the only species that can sleep with humans."
"Qwayks never did turn me on. It's the vantors; they're kind of distracting, if you know what I mean." I smiled back.
"Do you know what makes an omelic different from a qwayk?" She placed her hand on my chest.
A warm sensation bubbled in my chest. "Erryn, I'm getting a flurry of mixed vibes here."
"Omelics and humans can reproduce. Both our species have the same chromosomal number and a nearly identical DNA makeup."
"You're smarter than you let on."
Her lascivious smile disappeared, and she mocked, "But I would emasculate you. Human men are too weak. I would break you."
She turned around and began to walk away, taunting me in the process. Her sudden rip on my manhood was embarrassing and unexpected. I got that sudden rush of anger any man would understand and caught her arm before she got away.
She turned back, and I looked into her bright yellow eyes. "Woman! You've never met a man like me."
Erryn pulled out her revolver and spun open the chamber. She tilted the barrel to the ceiling, and the bullets clanked against the floor after sliding out of the weapon. She smiled with devious intent.
"Let's see!"
Faster than any human ever could, she aimed the revolver at my junk. With speed even faster than her, I lowered my hand and swiped the gun toward the ceiling.
Click!
She pulled the trigger, but with no gunshot to follow. With a strong grip, I held her robotic arm up high.
Despite her struggles, she couldn't move her arm. "That's impossible! Omelics are twice as strong and fast as humans. You shouldn't be able to do this." Her eyes and face painted a mask of shock.
I mocked, "Then that makes me four times stronger than you. Hah, maybe you aren't as good as you conjured up in your thick skull. You're just a tease seeking any attention you can gather." I let go of her arm.
With a flicker of curiosity and steamboat full of surprise, she pulled back her arm. "You're wrong about me," she snapped back, then stormed off toward the cockpit.
"Sure I am," I muttered sarcastically.