Enemy radar and sensors would report our five seconds of madness as a glitch…at least I hope so. Frantic fists pound into my chest as I draw deep breaths of purified air.
“Let’s move.” I give the command and we begin our run toward the City.
CHAPTER 2 - DUNAN
DZ087 is one of numerous Districted Zones located along Dunan’s eastern edge. Entirely the opposite of its western counterparts, it is a rough and sordid zone where seedy taverns, rundown towns and derelict infrastructures make up a dangerous and unfriendly environment. As we approach, I notice that parts of its tall perimeter wall are lying scattered on the ground in some places, while in others, it no longer exists. The place looks as though it got hit by a nuke. Buildings that would have once been architecturally pleasing to the eyes are now rundown, empty, broken, or rubble.
My MAV steps over the vandalized fence and I give the word to deactivate our camouflage. Now that we are close enough to the city, we won’t need it. There are too many signals and too much equipment that run interference on our behalf; we would be considered no more than the usual traffic.
Our destination is down a main road and then off through a dark and usually deserted side street. So far, the folks we’ve passed have hardly acknowledged our presence. Everyone seems to be somewhere else, either in mind or body. There is a feeling of emptiness here, a lack of openness and freedom. The only thing I can think of is desolation. It is in their walk, their demeanor…their eyes.
In the dark sky, void of any clouds as usual, the stars sparkle few and far apart. This is because of Keden’s dusty atmosphere and unlike back home, there is no moon. A few Air and Magnatech Vehicles parked beside derelict structures catch my eye and questionable figures can be seen going into questionable buildings however, our mission has nothing to do with whatever is going on here; so we continue along.
My secure com lights up “Alpha…?”
“Terri…”
“How do we know that there are no spies here?”
“We don’t…this is where we’re gonna have to take our chances but I doubt we’ll have that problem in this part of town.”
I don’t worry about anyone reporting our presence to the local authorities because there are way too many illegal activities going on in this one locale for anyone to be so stupid. No one in their right mind would dare bring the law here and as we get to the end of the street and turn onto another wide road, everything changes. It’s a lot livelier here. The glows of dull yellow street lights and neon signs everywhere, reveal many of the district’s citizens going about their nightly lives, from street-side substance dealers to vendors, to buyers, to prostitutes, all driven by a common denominator; credits.
We come to a halt outside a well aged tavern. Like most of the manmade structures on this planet, it is built of metal and almost all of its yellow paint has been stripped away. The guards at the front entrance seem a bit uneasy. I guess I would be too if three Earthfront Mecha came and stood less than thirty feet away with guns and missile pods pointed in my direction. But they hold their positions, admirable in a way, their guns futile at the ready.
“Bull…how’s the weather?”
Static hits me “…All clear Alpha…”
“Hound…?”
“Ready and waiting sir…”
“Terri, Akita, if anything goes wrong, do what you have to do.”
“…Will do boss.” Akita’s voice is steady. He knows, just like the rest of us what the risks and potential consequences of coming here entail.
I power down my MAV and hit the release switch. The dashboard in front of me hisses, as the pressurized air around is expelled, and slides downward. The legs of the machine crouch, thus lowering the cockpit to the ground. My harness tightens for a second, then goes loose and I unclip it.
“Be careful Alpha…eyes open.”
I won’t reply but Terri knows I acknowledge his concern.
The air here is warm and dry but my Combat Suit filters it in and allows me to breathe cool and moist oxygen. My visor tells me that the temperature is a nice 32 degrees Celsius and I say nice, because the daytime temp is usually anything around 60.
I climb out of my seat and down the built-in-ladder in front of my Mecha. The two guards at the door are now joined by three more and as I walk toward them, the sound of my MAV resealing itself ripples through the far recesses of my mind until it becomes another distant background noise.
I get to the door of the tavern and one of the guards step between me and it “Who are you and what is your business here Earther?”
His gravelly voice is like the rest of all who come from or live too long on this planet. It’s because of the dust and sand, according to those who are qualified to know these things. Gets into the throat and lungs and over time, the human body adapts.
“I am death to my enemies, but I am here to see Toros, my friend.” I keep eye contact and though he defiantly returns my gaze, I see a flicker of uncertainty.
“Wait here.” He leaves me with the other four guards and goes through the door.
Two minutes and some pass before he returns and makes way for me to enter. His colleagues seem on edge but they are of no concern. As a matter of fact, I think that the two MAV’s facing us have placed a healthy bit of fear in them; exactly what I was hoping for.
The guard I spoke to eyes me suspiciously but motions for me to enter. Through the slanted steel doors, I go without hesitation and the world around me changes from openly wild, street-side life, to controlled and nice…an almost cozy indoor getaway. The bar is dusty and hot but lively. Its yellow lights cast a dull glow across the large room. I recall from memory the exits and windows in my immediate view; on these hostile worlds, it has become second nature over time to do so.
The big bartender looks like ex Kedar; Kedenian Special forces. And two men not far from him seem to be trading something unholy. Then there is the guy sitting at a corner table with two prostitutes; a Kedenian tradesman by the look of his clothing. Tradesmen on this planet are often leathery skinned because of their extensive time in the sun. Their clothes are always long and made of patchwork that covers most of their bodies including heads and faces.
“Hello there…”
I turn toward the soft voice. A woman dressed in a very short, formfitting jumper and rugged high heels is standing next to me. She takes advantage of my silence.
“You look lost hun…” Eying me like a piece of meat.
“Sorry, but I’m here on business.”
“Sorry indeed…”
Just like most Kedenian women, her face is rough and chiseled yet very attractive and her hair, bleached and damaged; all a result of the harsh weather.
“You’re here to see Toros. I’m here to take you to him.”
She looks at me as though I were a strange thing that made her curious. I realize now that she isn’t a prostitute and remove my helmet, attach it to the magnetic clip on my waist and follow the slinky woman through the crowd and into a hallway.
The Digital Optics covering my eyes like contact lenses, Digital Eyes, or Dees as we call them, take over and feeds me second by second digital, visual information about my surroundings. They tell me what I want to know, when I choose to want it. But nothing ever prepares me for the air. It hits me like an invisible wall of stale warmth that smells like old carpets. I hate it but have no choice in the matter now; no one in the known galaxy takes kindly to people in masks and helmets, especially Earthers in masks and helmets. We walk a few steps and turn through another metal door. It opens up into a large, dimly lit room made up of split levels where women and men of many races mingle and mix.
As I tread the velvety floor, a blue haired Kedenian woman nearby looks my way and smiles but I continue on, passing what looks like a local miner and a Rokan Woman uncomfortably embraced in a purple lit booth. I have never been to the Roka but I know what the folks there look like. Prolonged exposure to the atmospheres on the twin planets, Roka and
Rokus tend to give the skin a light-purple hue. The darker the skin, the darker the hue, in my book however, purple is purple no matter how you look at it.
My escort guides me through the mingling crowd, past two guards, through another hallway, two more guards, and now an unusually broad door stands before us. With a knock she opens it and I step into a fairly large office and finally, I see the man I have come to find.
“Welcome my friend!” He is falsely excited to see me. But it is never a problem, because I am also falsely happy to be here. The semicircular and windowless room smells of Cuban Cigars. How in the galaxy did he get Cuban Cigars?
“How are you Toros?” I shake his rough hand and look into the square, chiseled, hairless face as I take a seat by his desk; my escort stands between us waiting.
“Elna…drinks!” He says it as though there is a celebration to be had, then watches her slyly as she walks away. “…Very nice girl…been with my establishment from the beginning.”
His voice is rough and deep…way too much dust I always say.
“You’ve been hiding her…I’ve never met her before…”
“My friend…” he gives me a broad smile “…I have more than one places of business on Keden; surely you know this?”
“You must treat her like gold then? Good help is hard to find no matter what planet you’re on…” I indulge the meaningless conversation for the moment.
“Not on Darion…” He grins, reminiscing “The service there is always excellent…you ever been to Darion, Earther?”
“No, but I know of it…” I have never been to the planet of cities, but I have seen it on flybys and walked through it virtually many times.
“…Beautiful place my friend…” Toros shifts his hulking frame and the chair beneath him protests loudly. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you Earther. I was beginning to think that you’d left us here on this damned rock for good.”
“I’m here because I need information…”
“Ah…as always, straight to the point…” His mouthful of bright white teeth flashes a broad grin.
I relax in my chair and accept my drink now that Elna has returned. Toros waits for her to leave again and after the door is shut behind her, he continues. “What kind of information do you seek my friend?”
It is Kedenian custom to not ask, but for the host to present a drink of their choice to a guest. I take a sip of the blue-ish green cocktail and it is good. “What is this drink?”
He leans heavily into his big, black leather chair. “Pine fruit, water pears and the best Kedenian Fermentia you can find; it is good, no?”
I sip it again and nod my approval. Fermentia is Keden’s version of wine and is ranked in the top ten of fine wines that the Galaxy has to offer.
“I hear that a small Deepcore fleet has landed on Keden…” I search his face for any sign of acknowledgement, but there is none “Do you know where they are based?” but I see his crooked mind working; the well-oiled gears of it turning at full steam.
“You’ve been coming to me for a long time now Earther…” He plays with his glass “…and I’ve always given you whatever you ask, you know this. You pay well and that is what it’s all about, no? What you ask now though, puts me in a difficult position…do me…and you, a favor my friend and leave this one alone...”
He’s getting shifty so I cut him off “…Name your price.”
But it is as though I said nothing “…These guys, they don’t play nice. They’ll find me and end me, you must understand this Earther.”
“I thought you were well protected here…thought this was your domain?”
“Domain..? Earther, to these people, there is no domain they cannot reach; they’ll just send their assassins or bomb everything. They have spies…everywhere, and government connections. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”
“Who said I was getting into anything? I just asked a question.”
Toros places his drink on the desk and looks at me. The fear in this man’s eyes says it all. Deepcore is obviously bigger and more dangerous here than on Earth. A burst of static hits my ear. “Alpha..?”
It’s Pitbull
“…I just hacked into Toros’ logs and it appears that he has ties to Deepcore. There was a transaction of fifty million Kedenian Credits two days ago to Toros for services rendered…sending to you…now.”
The info appears across my Digital Eyes. Now I know why the Kedenian opposite me is avoiding the question.
Toros is still rambling. “…and I’m not stupid Earther. You don’t care if I get ended by these men. All you want is…wait a minute. You wouldn’t be asking about them if you weren’t planning some sort of raid…” His words trail off as the truth registers.
I wish it wouldn’t
“…or a hit…this is a hit. You’re going after them on Kedenian soil…” He looks away from me in thought “…yes, you’re not here under instruction from your base. As far as I know, you’re not allowed to even be here. This is some kind of unauthorized operation and you don’t care what happens to me after…”
“I’ll double the credits Toros, and give you protection.”
“Protection..? Ha!”
I don’t like the look in his eyes
“…I’m sorry Earther. I can’t let you this time…bad for business, you understand, no?”
The room seems to be getting a bit too small. I hate to do this but Toros has now become a liability…no, a threat. He shifts suddenly so I draw my hand gun and point it toward his face. “Don’t do this Toros. All I asked was where, are, they? Please my friend, I won’t mention you, I swear.”
“Friend..? Ha!” His face contorts in anger “…That will not stop them from knowing that it was me. No one tolerates a rodent. I’ll be eaten alive.”
“Last time Toros. Where..?”
“You’ll never make it out of here alive Earther.”
I refuse to answer. The situation has gotten out of control. Inside, I recoil at the thought of what I am about to do. I wish it were different but now I have no choice.
“Please Earther…” The bulky, bald headed Kedenian is on the edge of panic “…do not do this...You have no idea…” And as he draws his hidden gun and shouts for help, I squeeze the trigger on my Tex’s Fifty-eight. The ‘Hand Cannon’ as is nicknamed, lets loose its bullet with a heavy thud and I move as what was Toros’ head explodes into an expanding pulp.
“I’m sorry old friend.” I reattach my helmet just as the door bursts open and slam the butt of my gun into the face that appears. The big man cries out but regains his footing and lunges toward me. I shift my weight and use his own to throw him over the desk of his fallen boss.
Another thug comes crashing through the door and my Fifty-eight puts him back through it. I need to get out of this hallway; it is a death chamber the longer I wait. I fire into the first man now rising from behind the desk and begin my run, then slow to a walk beside the metal door separating my corridor from the commingling on the other side. Pushing the button to open it is either going to give me freedom or death but time is of the essence, everyone in the building would have heard those shots.
The door flies open and after a quick glance, I run through the now empty space and stop once more near the hallway on the other side. No one is here either. I don’t like this, it’s too easy but I have to get out.
“Alpha…” Terri’s is in my ear “…keep coming to us.”
I suck in deep breaths of purified air, and take the passageway in long strides with my heart clawing its way out my chest. But the deep breaths and a well-trained, steady mind keeps me calm and thinking straight. The door to the bar and lounge is now within reach.
“BOOM..! Rrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
The sound hits like thunder and I open the door in time to see the front end of the tavern disintegrate.
“Alpha, come on!”
Akita’s MAV stands like the Grim Reaper, gun whirling and tearing up eve
rything moving or not and I run for it, putting a hole into the chest of another guard. I don’t know for sure, but it appears as though every customer that I left in here is now holding a weapon.
While I push my legs for more speed, My MAV is already opening by mental command and bullets whiz nearby as I run up the ladder.
“Alpha…” It’s Bull’s voice “…heavy armor in-bound on your six. I make two Rhinos.”
Terrier is on the air now “Yeah we’ve got company. I got em on scope. Huski let’s go!”
I strap into my seat and wake my MAV’s sleeping systems. Everything comes online instantly and we turn to leave the half leveled building. Now I know for sure that Toros had dealings with Deepcore. Rhinos are the heavy Mecha of Deepcore’s operations; heavy Mecha class war machines that could level a city block in a matter of seconds. This is fast turning into a ‘not-good’ situation.
“Okay boys, look alive, weapons hot, Bull get on it.”
I activate both missile launcher pods and hear the whir as my Auto Cannon turns to lock onto my digital targets. We go back the way we came and as we come out onto the deserted main road the ground in front of us and the edges of the building nearby tear up with gun fire.
“Bull, do you have them?” I hope to God his answer is yes.
“Got ‘em boss…”
“Disable the bastards. Hound, hold your position.”
“Holding…” he replies
I imagine Pitbull siting in his cockpit and targeting our enemies. His two hundred and twenty pound frame, taking up his entire seat, is perfectly matched to the monster, Long Ranged Rail gun mounted above his MAV.
Bullets twang off our armor and my missile alert systems are going mad. I hear the sound a split second before the wall to my left explodes. Chunks of metal and evercrete slam into my armor but no damages are indicated. According to my scope, the Rhinos are a hundred and twenty three meters out and closing. My warning system shrieks as it detects their missile lock again but in a bright flash…ONE…TWO! Both heavy Mecha go down, their legs, blown out at the joints. Bull’s long range assault has done its job and now, my targeting computer alerts me.
“Alpha…” Terri’s voice “…I got lock…”