Brothel! Old friends with guns.
10 Mar 2017Jubei Himura
There is a house in Sin City
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God, I know I'm one
House of the Rising Sun by The Animals, covered by Five Finger Death Punch
I awoke from a dream to see a thin figure standing to the side of the bed with their bare back to me. The skin on the back was smooth-looking and inviting, ending in curvy khaki pants that covered a shapely behind. I looked higher to try and identify who it was, only to see two hands reach back below long blonde hair to clasp a bra. My eyelid shut tightly as I realized it was Veronica.
When I heard the subtle sound of a shirt being put on I started to roll over, indicating to her that I was waking and about to get up. The right side of my face hurt and I had a terrible headache, so I was moving slow.
“Good morning, Shisho,” Veronica said in a pleasant voice. “Coffee’s ready in the kitchen. I figured that I’d let you sleep in after what happened last night.”
“Thanks, darlin’,” I muttered as I grabbed for a shirt, only to find that I wearing the clothes I had on last night. “What? No pajamas?”
“Oh yeah, that’s a good idea after I smoothed everything out with Arcy.” Veronica laughed. “She feels bad for jumping to conclusions. You should go downstairs, talk to them and eat some breakfast.”
“Yeah,” I agreed with her and made my way to the kitchen where there was a gorgeous meal waiting with fresh coffee. This was always how Arcy apologised. Naturally, I got coffee first.
“Hey Hunter,” Arcy started as she walked into the kitchen. “Sorry about last night. I got carried away. Although I’m surprised you didn’t dodge.”
“Well, depth perception isn’t what it used to be,” I chuckled, pointing to my patch-covered right eye. We both laughed at my expense as I sat down to eat. After a few minutes of delicious food, the door buzzer sounded and Arcy went to the front to answer.
“Hello Stryker… No, no trouble, he’s just shaving… What?! A coupler? Ye Gods. OK, come on in and grab some coffee, I’ll go get him.” I could only hear Arcy’s side of the conversation.
A minute later a large, well-built man walked into the kitchen wearing khaki-coloured cargos and a white tank-top that was stretched out from the sheer size of his muscles. The man obviously was a bodybuilder, probably lifted as much as he could whenever he could. However, his right arm ended abruptly just above the elbow and continued as a mechanical forearm and hand whose fingers extended out to sharp claws.
“Jubei?!” he said in shock, obviously recognising me. Hearing his voice brought back memories of a data delivery mission a few months back when I picked up a damaged escape-pod that was floating in an ion trail.
“Muscles?” I responded, finally recognising the large man that I found in that pod. I extended my left hand for a shake which he enthusiastically accepted. “Good to see you survived, all things considered! What’s the deal with your right arm? It’s a bit… intimidating.”
“A reward….” the large man said simply, with a hint of bitterness. I nodded, knowing not to ask anything further. Arcy came down the stairs followed by Wrex, who was buttoning up his shirt in a hurried fashion.
“Come on boy!” Wrex bellowed, as he put on a work jacket. “She’s gonna be pissed if we don’t get the Seren Du back together!”
“We’ll catch up later, okay?” Stryker gave a two fingered salute as he ran out the door after Wrex.
* * * * * *
Arcy took Veronica to see life in the station and show her the better spots to visit. I’m sure it helped that I provided enough credits for them to go several spas and shops. Normally, I might be worried about a couple of ladies walking around Clair Dock with a heavy credit account, but this is my student and the woman with the hardest punch I’ve ever felt, God help the poor bastard that angers them.
This allowed me to move more freely throughout the station and go to the more... uncomfortable parts.
I had stopped at a few dive bars and dinners for information. A good rule to info-gathering is to not ask anything, just listen to the conversations happening around you. Only involve yourself in the most indirect way possible, mention false information so they correct you, and never accept it openly that you’re wrong; just walk away disgruntled. Eventually you gather the info you want and can usually confirm places, people, and, if you’re lucky: times.
After roughly four hours, I got all three. Seems that one of the fronts that Black Omega uses is a brothel, whose name I knew for a time: Exotica. The ownership had switched hands since I was here last. However, I recognized the manager’s name, a former Imperial who grew jaded with the direction the Empire was going. Best part is that he works days so he can direct shipments of “fun” and have the nights off for “relaxation”.
I decided that I needed to find out if he remembered my face. He could be my in, one way or the other.
* * * * * *
“Come on darlin’, you’d be a right smash.” said a man with a heavy cockney accent as he dragged a petite, dark-haired teenage girl toward the alleyway. “Rake in the credits with your looks, you would.”
This sleaze stood a couple of inches taller than I did and dressed in sloppy business clothing that I’m sure he thought was the height of classiness. He pushed the girl against the wall once they were in the alleyway and started to reach under her jacket and shirt. She pushed his hand down and tried to walk away, but the man just slammed her back into the wall.
“Looks like you need some convincin’ and breakin’ in.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out an injector, and smiled. “This oughta loosen ya up.”
“Yeah, how ‘bout: no.”
I grabbed his arm and twisted him around before driving my fist into his stomach. As he doubled over in pain I brought my knee up into his face, effectively making him flip backwards onto his back. He laid there coughing and sputtering.
“Look miss,” I turned and smiled to the girl. “It ain’t safe walkin’ ‘round this part of the station by yourself. Unfortunately I got business in this brothel with the manager, but yer safer with me than out here. On the plus side, I won’t try to sell ya. What’s your name and age, little miss?”
“Cindy, and I’m seventeen.” she said timidly. Her eyes grew wide as she looked past me and gasped.
“You little shit!” the sleazeball bellowed as he drew a knife. “You know who I am?! You know who I work ‘fer?”
“Oh right,” I said I turned around, cracking my knuckles. “Yer gonna to be my peace offerin’.”
* * * * * *
Mr. Sleaze made a particularly satisfying crunch when he hit the edge of the desk. Now, the reason he hit the edge of the desk was because I threw him through the door and across the manager’s office. This would have alerted some armed men elsewhere in the building, but thanks to a nice lady named Candi (who may or may not have known me a few years back) and her friends, no one was going to check on the commotion.
“This sack of shit work for you?” I asked the manager of Exotica very politely. “I thought you had higher standards.”
“Yes, he works for us,” answered Nicholas Locke. “What of it? I don't get anything out of him if he's injured. I’d hope you’d understand that, considering your background.” Locke got up from his desk to inspect the sleaze that was now bleeding on his floor.
Nicholas and I used to fly together in the Legion, but that was a couple of years back. Since then, I left for the Chapterhouse and he left to find his own path. He was a fair bit taller than I, standing at roughly six-foot-two, but he had a slender, athletic build, so whatever he was doing since we last met him kept him fit.
“Well then," Locke said as he looked down at the man. "What did Marley do to piss you off, exactly?"
“Attempting to rape a seventeen year old girl.”
“Oi! He’s lyin’ to ya boss,” Marley managed to say through broken teeth. “ ‘ere I was, chattin’ up a pretty woman ‘fer the establishment and this one-eyed cunt spouts off t’me about ‘ertin Omega’s supply line. Then the fuck’r cold-clocks me and drags me ‘ere.”
Nicholas reached to his side and produced an FD FirebranD pistol and pulled back on the slide to allow a round to enter the chamber. I made no move as I couldn’t read what he was thinking and my own FirebranD was hidden underneath my long coat and not easily drawn. Marley just smiled at me as if I was about to get my comeuppance as Nicholas rested the pistol on the table, hand still on the grip.
“Well Marley, I hear ya, this guy’s not telling me the whole truth. I figure he should be made to talk, and I’m sure he’ll tell me what I want to know. He might be as naive as one can expect of his Empire.” Nicholas then turned the pistol and brought it to Marley’s head, adding, “He’s never told me a lie.”
Marley’s look of sadistic bliss slowly changed to a look of absolute horror as the words sank into his dense skull.
“I don't care what you do when you're not on my time, Marley, but I had hoped you'd know that when you're here you belong to the owner of this establishment and, by extension, myself. And you go off, while on my time, without my permission and an Inquisitor has to drag you back to me. That's a fuck up. Then you try and lie to me? That's another fuck up, Marley. And everyone should know by now...
“I don’t tolerate fuck-ups.”
Nicholas pulled the trigger with a loud bang and Marley’s (now faceless) body fell to the floor in a bloody mess. Thankfully, none of the gore got on my clothing, but sprayed off into a corner of the office. I took a step toward my old friend but stopped short as he raised the barrel of his pistol and pointed it at me once more.
“Now, I want you,” he said, “to tell me, right now, what the fuck you're doing here."
Very special thanks to Jemine Caesar for editing my mess, as well as Nicholas Locke and Stryker Aune for dialog and input for their characters.