MARS: 5 - Predator - TITAN Contractors
15 Apr 2022Aurora Adair (Radiumio)
NOTE: This story contains themes of violence and strong language.
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DATE: 18th of March, 3308 [21:54 UGT]
LOCATION: UNKNOWN"No."
The man stopped as the venom-laced word came, modulated and muffled. He turned around slowly, raising his head to peer past the brim of his hat, eyes meeting the cold, black visor of him. Predator.
"What do you mean no?"
"60 million isn't enough for the job. You're asking for a l-..."
The man in the black cloaked suit suddenly took a rapid step forwards, into his personal space. Predator did not flinch, but paused. He was used to small men in big worlds. This pathetic vermin was nothing in the g-...
"5 million per kill. We gave you their whole profiles. True identities. Finding them and taking them down is but a simple task."
His thoughts interrupted, Predator gave a sigh. This negotation was frustrating, but a mild inconvenience. He'd get what he wanted eventually.
"Triple it."
"Triple it? You're asking me to tri-..."
"I said... triple it."
From behind the visor, Predator's eyes narrowed as he watched the man's body language distinctly change. His hands shifting to his hips, his eyes darting around, looking further into the concourse as people moved around, hardly minding them in the corner by that desk by the stairs. His face contorting into frustration as his jaw clenched. The subtle breath in. He was angry, aggressive... but uncomfortable. The perfect opportunity.
Stepping in, Predator slowly stopped inches from the man's face. Anxiety flickered across the man's face, before that same angry expression returned. He was trying to be confident.
"You're messing with some powerful people, Preda-..."
"You're just a proxy. Triple it or we don't have a deal. Chase me halfway across the galaxy, see if I give a shit."
The man paused. Predator figured he was probably thinking about how he knew, but to him, the signs were obvious. This suited man with the dark hat was just some proxy negotiator. They would never send an official contact, and that much was obvious.
"... Fine. We can triple the deal. 180 million."
"Perfect. On an additional condition; I'll do the job at my own pace."
"You are in no position to just make deman-..."
"I just did. But, I'll throw you a bone. The payment will only be done after I confirm all the kills. Every last one of them. Deal?"
The man paused, eyes trailing off with a sigh. Eventually, his angry glare returned to Predator, his face stiff.
"... Fine. Deal."
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DATE: 1st of April, 3308 [13:22 UGT]
LOCATION: Albassapic, 1 B"MOTHERFU-..."
The pained scream echoed throughout the dilapidated corridors of the abandoned mining base. A bright flash of purple light flared from the muzzle of Predator's firearm, plunging the hallway into silence as the round connected with the armored figure on the floor, cutting off the scream. He was still for a moment, night-vision highlighting the environment around him as he glanced around at the five deceased, unmoving figures spread across the hallway.
Taking a few slow steps towards the most recent kill, he unholstered his profile analyzer from his belt, flicking it on and scanning his target. A moment passed, before the confirmation came.
/////= CHASE = [IDMTCH: CPL. Leon Vinson] = BOUNTY DETECTED =\\\\\He smirked and lowered the tool. The plan had been perfectly executed, and they fell for the bait.
Carrying out further scans as he went along, the remaining bodies were easily matched to the profiles provided by his benefactor.
/////= ZEBRA = [IDMTCH: SPC. Skylar Armstrong] = BOUNTY DETECTED =\\\\\
/////= LANCE = [IDMTCH: SPC. River Bennett] = BOUNTY DETECTED =\\\\\
/////= ECHO = [IDMTCH: CPL. Evelyn Thompson] = BOUNTY DETECTED =\\\\\
/////= MOBY = [IDMTCH: SGT. Mila Fields] = BOUNTY DETECTED =\\\\\The careful bait, prepared over two weeks, had finally paid off. Five of the high-value targets had been removed from the board, and only seven remained. Soon, there would be no more trace of the Crimson Venators, and the job would be done. These five had put up quite the fight, but it wasn't enough. Eventually, they would all face the inevitable.
Holstering his Tormentor as he swiftly turned around, Predator began to walk away, heading down the corridor for the exit of the mining base. Now that the bait was employed, it was only a matter of time until the rest of the Venators figured out what was happening. That was, if they hadn't already. He must be quick. Decisive. Lethal.
Exiting through the manual airlock of the base, the suit's life support kicked in as he trekked across the dark, dusty landscape, only the suit's night-vision guiding his way. The silhouette of his Vulture sat there atop the broken terrain. One reliable craft that had been through the thick and thin of it with him. The only thing he could trust in this hostile galaxy.
SUVAS: "Incoming Communications Request."
"Accept."
There was a pause as the suit opened the communications line. He was quiet, never speaking first, only the breathing in his enclosed helmet audible as he continued along towards his ship. He paid no mind to his HUD either. No useful contact identification would be gleamed from the open line. Whoever this was wanted to stay hidden. He could respect that. Eventually, the silence was broken, almost as if the individual on the other end was thinking.
IDENT: {UNKNOWN} "[Predator. We are pleased to finally see the results of your work. Can we expect every kill to take this long?]"
They... knew. But he ensured that they had no connection to his suit or ship. How...
"The job is complicated. It will take time. The deal was-..."
IDENT: {UNKNOWN} "[The deal was that you eliminate all of the listed targets at your own pace, but move too slowly and our opportunity will slip away.]"
"Not my first rodeo. I know what I'm doing."
IDENT: {UNKNOWN} "[Then expedite your operation.]"
"It is not that simple. Your target profiles are diverse, location-wise. I cannot be in dozens of places at once."
IDENT: {UNKNOWN} "[You have only seven targets remaining. Check your ship communications when you have boarded. Consider this a token of faith.]"
Gritting his teeth, Predator began to ascend the ramp into his ship, slowly entering the airlock as the ship closed behind him. He paused near the gear rack, slowly pulling his suit pack off and slotting it into the rack.
"I have a question."
The other end of the call was quiet. He continued regardless.
"You gave me complete profiles for six of the targets, except for one. And as far as I can tell, she isn't tied to any of this at all."
IDENT: {UNKNOWN} "[You have more than enough information. Do the job.]"
"Your proxy said these Crimson Venators were the banes of the Federation. So why is she a target if she isn't associated? I don't kill innocents."
IDENT: {UNKNOWN} "[Stop weighing the morality, Predator. Her hands are far from clean, and you know what you signed up for. We are not required to disclose further information. Eliminate all of the targets, regardless of their allegiance. That was the deal.]"
He sighed, making his way to the cockpit of his ship, through the tight and small corridors.
"Fine. I'll be in tou-..."
SUVAS: "Channel Closed."
"Assholes..."
Stepping around the flight chair of his Vulture, Predator sat down and slumped into the chair with a sigh, booting up the ship displays as he navigated to his ship communications tab. There. An inbox message containing the locations of all the remaining targets. Why had they not provided this before? Was this a test or... were they simply messing with him? Not that it mattered... but he would still do this at his own pace.
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DATE: 7th of April, 3308 [00:32 UGT]
LOCATION: Moonlight Keep, AcamarWith a soft ding, the lift doors parted, and Predator stepped into the concourse of the outpost, his face concealed by his closed helmet. Signs and advertisements littered around confirmed this was Moonlight Keep, an unsanctioned outpost. One of those distant places great for a quiet getaway. Walking forward towards the railing, he looked down at the bar below, surveying. He needed someone that knew their stuff. The bartender was probably a good place to start. Stepping away from the railing, he turned to the stairs, his path blocked by a man, dressed in fairly bulky, scratched armor. Just some random marauder.
"'ey, you interested in a job? Just sayin', but I wouldn't leave my gu-..."
"Shut up."
His stance firm and unmoving, Predator stared down the man in his way. Scratching his scruffy stubble, the man shrugged and stepped aside, folding his arms as he leant back against the railing.
"... Welp. Suit yerself, big man."
Swiftly moving past, Predator proceeded to the staircase, descending it and stepping around its corner as he headed down into the bar. Through shifty-looking individuals and drunk, backwater scum, he made his way to an empty section of the bar, leaning forward onto the counter with folded arms. The bartender, an old man with grey hair, took note of him, and after serving drinks to two individuals further along, he approached.
"Howdy, son. Looking for business, or a drink?"
"Business. I need some information."
The old man paused, putting down his cloth as he looked up at Predator, hands on the counter in front of him.
"Information, hrm? You a bounty hunter? You looking for someone?"
"Not exactly. I'm an assassin, and I'm looking for four people, in fact."
The simple revelation that came from Predator seemed to catch the bartender off-guard, but only slightly. He smirked, chuckling. Predator did not find it amusing.
"That so? Well, sonny... lotta people come through 'ere. You'll have to be more specific."
"Ever heard of the Crimson Venators?"
"The Crimson Ventilators?"
"Venators. Listen, old man..."
"Ah, chin up, son. Don't be so serious. Live a little. You sure you not a bounty hunter?"
"Just tell me where I can find them. My source pointed them here."
"Hm. Well, sonny... right over there..."
The man pointed over Predator's shoulder. He looked, spotting a frail, hunched over figure, sitting at a table in the corner alone.
"... you'll find Sleeper. He's the eyes and ears around this place... when he isn't dozin' off. He may have what you're looking for."
"Fine."
Stepping away from the bar counter, Predator fixed his gaze on 'Sleeper', approaching his table. As he moved closer, the man's loud snoring dominated the ambience, his head face-first into the table. It was a mess, empty magnetic flasks littered around the table, crumbs of junk food that had not yet been cleaned finding their place in gaps within the seat, or floating aimlessly in the zero-g.
"Sleeper, right?"
No response came from the man. Slowly getting impatient, Predator took in the man's unkempt appearance. Ruffled brown hair. Frail, pock-marked arms. a black t-shirt just barely fitting to the man's thin frame.
With a sigh, Predator stepped forward and suddenly slammed his fist on the table. The flasks shook, some of them detaching from the force as the man abruptly shot up, his eyes wide. Fear spread across the man's face as he sat back into the chair, bringing a P-15 sidearm out from underneath and raising it shakily at Predator.
"Who tha fuck are y-...?!"
Reaching forward, Predator snatched the P-15 from the man, chucking it aside as it clanged uselessly against the nearby wall.
"Try putting a fucking magazine in next time."
Looking back at Sleeper, who sat there in shock, Predator stared him down, a hand slowly pushing the flasks aside as he leant forward onto the table.
"I need some information. They say you know stuff. That you listen to people."
"... Sure. I kno' stuff. What ya want?"
"Ever heard of the Crimson Venators?"
A pause.
"... the who now?"
"I don't have the fucking time for this..."
"Okay, okay, whas in it for m-..."
Predator reached into a concealed holster underneath his bandolier, yanking his Tormentor free as he brought it forward into his hands, his grip tight as he slammed it down onto the table, facing Sleeper.
"Not getting shot. Now... have you heard or seen anything regarding the Crimson Venators?"
Sleeper looked around nervously, meeting the eyes of several eager on-lookers, surprised at the presence of a weapon inside the concourse. The bartender called out something, but Predator didn't acknowledge it. It didn't matter.
"Ok, fine. Seen some things lately. I dunno who them... them... uh..."
"Venators."
"Ye-ye, them, whatever. Not heard of them, but just some days ago, these strange people, they just walk in one day. Black armor, some with... with colors, some not. Cloaks. Black visors. Didn't hang around much, but they come in, ask for the 'Secret Area'."
"The Secret Area?"
"Ye, part of the station. Guaranteed privacy, no security. Nuffin."
"Right... are they still here?"
"Not see them come round again so..."
"Fine. I want in to this... 'secret area'."
"Ah, not that simple."
Sighing, Predator withdrew his firearm and holstered it within his bandolier, staring down at Sleeper.
"Why not?"
"You pay lots... or... you do jobs around 'ere."
"How much?"
"What kind of secrecy you want?"
"I want access to the Venators."
"Ah, well... That all I know. Sorry. Can't get ya access just like that."
Grunting, Predator remained locked on Sleeper, shaking his head.
"Fine. Who do I speak to get access?"
Sleeper raised a shaky, slim hand, a finger pointing towards the bartender. Predator sighed. This was just a ploy, it seemed. A test. Storming back to the bartender who had an amused grin on his face, it took every ounce of Predator's patience to not just shoot him where he stood.
"So, you're fucking with me."
"Not at all, sonny. But, it was certainly interesting to see how that whole situation played out. Now... tell me more about why you're here."
"I told you. I'm here for the Crimson Venators. Nothing else. Give me access to that 'secret area' and let me do what I have to do. You won't ever see me again."
"Here to kill them, hm? Those four individuals? Well... can't say I'm surprised. Seems like trouble's following them."
"How?"
"Well... I hear things, ya see. Things about people here. And the whisper through the grapevine is that... these Venator folk are being hunted from all angles. Sounds like their names are out there... and you might not be the only person looking for them."
"Who else?"
"Some squadron. An independent Pilots' Federation-aligned group, some nomadic merc corp looking to bring the Venators to justice. By sounds of it, they stopped their pursuit months ago... officially... but every now and then the word goes out. They're looking out there, in the black, for a slithering snake that's desperately trying to hide away. When you first walked in here, I figured you were one of them. But now I see... you didn't even know."
"Hm. Won't lie. I didn't... but that doesn't change a thing. Where are the Venators now?"
"Aboard this outpost. But if you're going to go in and start a firefig-..."
"That was the plan. No worries. I wouldn't dream of harming your precious outpost."
The old man chuckled.
"Hm. Funny. Take this auth, lift ID 432. It'll take you straight there to the restricted maintenance access zone. That's the 'secret area'."
Producing a small card from a pouch on his overalls, he slid it across the counter. Predator took it, swiftly pocketing it as he turned away. But then he paused... and turned back to the bartender.
"This squadron. Got a name? Anything about them?"
"Yes... the squadron's called 'TITAN Contractors'. According to public sources... they're large. Field their own private army. And... the juicy bit... they're apparently led by the daughter of a Federal Admiral that was killed by the Crimson Venators."
"So it's a vengeance story? What's her name?"
"Well... hmm..."
The man paused a bit, thinking. The pause was uncomfortable... awkward, even. This revelation came as a surprise to Predator. Why did his benefactor never tell him there was an entire squadron involved? This complicated things... and that target they never disclosed the full information about. Her name was...
"Aurora, or something. That's their leader, if I remember correctly. Real feisty l-..."
"That's all. Thanks."
Swiftly turning away, Predator almost ran towards the lifts, ascending the stairs rapidly. Reaching into his bandolier, he slid the card against the lift's access panel and stepped in as the doors open, drawing his Tormentor. There was no time to think about it. The Crimson Venators could not get away.
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DATE: 7th of April, 3308 [00:51 UGT]
LOCATION: Moonlight Keep - RMAZ, AcamarSlipping out of the lift as the doors opened, he skulked forward, bringing his Tormentor up as he moved into the shadows. The maintenance tunnel was dark, dimly lit by red lights that just barely guided the path. Unless the enemy had night-vision, he could work this to his advantage. Following the corridor wall, he slowly moved forward, passing doors and hatches that led to various accesses to outpost systems. Maybe he should've asked where they would be, seeing as the place was fairly big.
Having passed multiple entrance points now, Predator stopped and looked around, now taking proper note of his environment. It appeared as if there were several system accesses to outpost security, outpost power, everything that ran the outpost, all accessible here. Why did the bartender just give him access so easily? If his goal wasn't the Venators, he could easily sabotage this outpost. Was this a trap?
He continued his advance, spotting a maintenance terminal further ahead. Now, his mind was racing with possibilities, his awareness heightened as he prepared for the worst. Slowly approaching the terminal, he reached into a pouch and plugged in a rugged datapad, tapping on the screen as it began to jailbreak the terminal. Still crouched as he peered up to see the screen, he tabbed to the facility menu, and looked down at the datapad, eyes scanning the raw readout rapidly as his other hand held his Tormentor close.
//////////\\\\\\\\\\
"MK-RMAZ" Achilles diagnostics software v3.1
NO AUTHORIZATION DETECTED; SECURITY VIOLATION!!!
> > > S C A N N I N G . . . < < <
///[:: MAINJC ::] ::BIO|1 ::PRES|OK ::INTG|OK
///[:: CORR01 ::] ::BIO|0 ::PRES|OK ::INTG|OK
///[:: PWRACC ::] ::BIO|0 ::PRES|OK ::INTG|OK
///[:: CORR02 ::] ::BIO|0 ::PRES|OK ::INTG|OK
///[:: SECACC ::] ::BIO|0 ::PRES|OK ::INTG|OK
///[:: CORR03 ::] ::BIO|0 ::PRES|OK ::INTG|OK
///[:: MCOR04 ::] ::BIO|4 ::PRES|OK ::INTG|OK
///[:: HABACC ::] ::BIO|0 ::PRES|OK ::INTG|OK
///[:: SYSCON ::] ::BIO|0 ::PRES|OK ::INTG|OK
///[:: CORR05 ::] ::BIO|0 ::PRES|OK ::INTG|OK
///[:: LIFSUP ::] ::BIO|0 ::PRES|OK ::INTG|OK
///[:: CORR06 ::] ::BIO|0 ::PRES|OK ::INTG|OK
///[:: EXTMA1 ::] ::BIO|0 ::PRES|NO ::INTG|OK
///[:: CORR07 ::] ::BIO|0 ::PRES|OK ::INTG|OK
///[:: EXTMA2 ::] ::BIO|0 ::PRES|NO ::INTG|OK
\\\\\\\\\\//////////There... Biosigns in
MCOR04. That was likely the main corridor that connected all of the access areas together... so not this one he was currently in. Shutting down the terminal, he turned and looked around at the signs. This corridor he was currently in was the main junction. It seemed to connect to a short corridor labelled 01, as well as two other corridors labelled 02 and 03, with the latter connected to MCOR04. Recalling what he saw, he got to his feet and proceeded to Corridor 03, placing his off-hand back onto the pistol grip of the Tormentor.Slowly reaching the door and pressing the manual console, it slid open as he snuck inside. The corridors were dark and gloomy, but quiet as he stalked along, sticking to the wall and barely making a shadow as he passed the red maintenance lights. Near the end of the hallway, it began to open up past a security bulkhead and led into a large room... labelled
MCOR04.Taking cover behind the bulkhead doorframe leading into the main corridor, he went quiet, holding his breath as he listened carefully. Peering beyond, his suit's night-vision highlighted the hallway ahead, before it turned into a much larger room, various structural pillars supporting the tall ceiling. With the bend into the room and the various pillars, his full line of sight was obscured, requiring him to advance to get a better look. But with keen eyesight, he spotted something... attached right near the main bulkhead door he was near. An invisible wide-zone laser sensor. They were definitely here.
Unfortunately, there was no way past the sensor without triggering it, and disrupting it would likely set it off. Without knowing where the enemy were, he might be walking straight into a trap if he just ran in. But what other choices were there? They'd eventually notice if something was off about the sensor regardless of what he did. Taking a breath in, he raised his Tormentor and took a step in without further hesitation. The laser broke, and immediately it felt like everything went quiet. The ambience of the outpost, his footsteps, his breathing. The silence and tension was palpable.
Exhilarating.
Passing the sensor and quickly moving down the hallway, Predator crouched behind the first structural pillar for cover, holding his sidearm close as he peered around, deeper into the room. Latticed support structures ran up the walls, handrails and ladders leading to various access points, before his focus slowly settled back on the centre of the room. Weapons and equipment laid on modular tables, rugged communications equipment and two suit packs sat there.
And then... a shadow deeper into the room moved. Pulling back behind cover, he flicked his pistol's safety off, bracing himself. He didn't have his suit pack with him, and thus shields were not an option. He would have to be extremely careful. Either way... this was a fair challenge.
Jumping to his feet, he quickly strafed to the second pillar, raising his Tormentor at the shadow he saw before. Suddenly, a loud crack erupted within the room, a bolt of bright plasma shot out from the other side between the structural pillars. He brought the sight of his sidearm up to his right eye and trained it on the figure he spotted, simultaneously moving as he squeezed the trigger. Both missed, each of their rounds hitting the opposite walls. The figure ducked back into cover quickly, the night-vision just barely having spotted their dark, armored silhouette, before their weapon poked out again.
Shots echoed throughout the room as he quickly squatted behind the next structural pillar, another plasma round cutting into the pillar as it connected with a sizzle. Quickly getting to his feet again, he dashed forwards towards the end of the pillars. Another shot followed after him as he ran across, slowing down and taking cover behind the last pillar as he leant out, raising his sidearm again. The figure peeked, and he fired. A pained scream from a woman rang through the room as the round connected, and they fell back into cover.
Quickly turning around and rounding the corner of the pillar to change position, he was interrupted by the flicker of a plasma blade catching on his visor. Yelling out as the large knife flared fully to life, the figure in front of him brought the knife downwards, his movement bringing him into the partial light.
"Take this, fucker!"
Confronted by a man clad in full, dark military armor, Predator quickly stepped aside, the knife missing him by inches. Bringing his Tormentor up, he quickly tucked it in by his side and pulled the trigger. The round connected with his upper chest, the plasma melting through his armor. He gave a scream of agony, falling to his knees as he began to gurgle on his own blood. Delivering a punch to his throat with the barrel of his Tormentor, Predator quickly dropped into a crouching position, grabbing the man's knife as it clattered to the floor and his body fell, lifeless.
Reversing his grip on the knife as he held it close, he got to his feet, interrupted by a burst of kinetic fire that flew directly over his head. Two rounds connected, one with his shoulder plate, another with the side of his helmet. The armor pinged as the ballistic plates resisted the angled impacts, the edge of his visor cracking as the force slammed into his head. Quickly ducking down and grabbing the man's body, he pulled the corpse up for cover, another flurry of rounds thudding against the lifeless suit.
Quickly sliding the man onto his shoulder, he peeked around with his Tormentor and fired a shot randomly down the hallway. A curse came from his target as he spotted the figure dive behind cover. Throwing the body aside, Predator jumped to his feet and moved behind the same pillar again, his knife and sidearm close. Switching hands, he slowly readied his Tormentor, waiting quietly while he peered down the sight, training it down the hallway. Eventually, the aura of a soft blue light came from around the corner, soon to fade away.
Suddenly, the armored figure jumped to their feet and dashed around the pillar, charging Predator as they raised their rifle, lighting up the hallway. Rounds peppered the side of the pillar, forcing Predator to step back behind cover before he could let off an accurate shot. The figure continued their advance, holding their fire as he heard their rapid footsteps close in. Hugging the pillar, he quickly stepped around it as they got close, raising his Tormentor... only they weren't there... Rookie mistake.
Stumbling as the stock of a rifle suddenly connected with the side of his helmet, he turned and faced the figure bearing down on him. Raising their rifle at him, he quickly stepped in and charged into them, knocking them off-balance as they let out a yell. Running footsteps echoed to his left, but he tunneled in on his kill, swiping across their throat with the plasma knife. Cutting straight through their shields, the knife ripped through the man's throat, and he collapsed to the floor, choking as Predator quickly turned his attention to the figure to his left. Squeezing the trigger as their blue silhouette closed in, he heard the distinct sound of their shields collapsing before his sidearm was swatted aside.
Shoved backwards, he lost his grip on his Tormentor, going defensive as the figure began their advance on him, wielding a specialized blade of their own. He quickly dodged the first swipe, the second cutting across the armor on his left forearm as he ducked down and stepped aside, raising his hand to protect his head. He felt the blade slice through his skin, shearing the armor on his arm in half. Quickly delivering a jab, his gloved hand connected with their side, pain shooting through his hand as he connected with a ballistic plate.
"Agh, fuck!"
His arm screaming in agony, he quickly stepped back, taking in his assailant's appearance and combat form as he brought his plasma knife up. They continued their relentless assault as Predator backpedalled, but he immediately knew who he was dealing with. The profile matched the physical description in every way. The slim, feminine figure with the dark, heavily plated Dominator suit fitted over, the up-armored, enhanced helmet with the signature opaque visor, the missing shoulder pad on the left arm... the red highlights on the suit. It was her. Griffin.
Almost backing up into a wall, Predator abruptly dodged aside, forcing Griffin to miss her swing as he kicked forward, connecting with her right forearm. She stumbled aside, not dropping her knife as she turned on him, swiping again. He stumbled backwards, their blades clashing for a moment as the plasma sparked and screeched upon contact. Regaining his footing, he raised his fists, tightly gripping the knife as he waited for his opportunity. She stood there, breathing heavily as she took up a stance, the two circling slowly. He could taste blood in his mouth, his left arm shaking from the pain as blood oozed out of the cut in his suit.
She struck. Swiping the knife outwards towards him, he jumped a step back, allowing the arm to pass before he closed in, stabbing downwards diagonally. The shimmering purple edge of his blade cut directly through her armor, burying itself into her neck as he shoved the blade in. Her knife clattered to the floor as she stood there, her body suddenly going limp as he held her up, taking in the kill.
"Griffin, right? Good fight..."
Letting go of the knife and her body, she collapsed to the floor without another noise. He stared at the body for a little while longer, catching his breath as he glanced at his injured arm.
"... but your time was up the second I entered this room."
Grabbing the profile analyzer from his belt, he slowly began to walk around the room, scanning bodies in the order of kill.
/////= IGUANA = [IDMTCH: SGT. Lara Shelton] = BOUNTY DETECTED =\\\\\
/////= LASER = [IDMTCH: CPL. Cody Philips] = BOUNTY DETECTED =\\\\\
/////= LIZARD = [IDMTCH: CPL. Elliot Allen] = BOUNTY DETECTED =\\\\\
/////= GRIFFIN = [IDMTCH: SSG. Lynn Shephard] = BOUNTY DETECTED =\\\\\Only three more kills remained.
////////////////////////////////////////
DATE: 15th of April, 3308 [12:43 UGT]
LOCATION: UNKNOWN"You said this wouldn't happen."
Pacing in the corridor of his ship, Predator clenched his fist, the glove of his flight suit squeaking as his grip got tighter and tigher.
IDENT: {UNKNOWN} "[We promised nothing. You, however, promised to finish the job.]"
"I can't finish the damn job when you won't even give me the full picture! I had to lay low for a week after the move I pulled in Acamar."
IDENT: {UNKNOWN} "[That is your problem. Do not question our orders or motives. You have more than enough information to do the job.]"
"Listen. I have no issue with taking out those last two Venators, but you never told me this squadron leader would be moving!"
IDENT: {UNKNOWN} "[Is that a problem?]"
"Is that a problem? Of course it's a fucking problem! I need a capable ship if I want to even think about going out there."
A silent pause.
IDENT: {UNKNOWN} "[We will provide a vessel. However, you must eliminate the remaining Venators first.]"
"I couldn't find them. They weren't where you said they were. Why don't you just do it yourself, huh?"
IDENT: {UNKNOWN} "[That is not an option.]"
"Not an option? Not a fucking option?! Are you serious?"
No response came. Taking in a breath, Predator relaxed his grip.
"Listen. I need the full picture. I cannot do this job without i-..."
IDENT: {UNKNOWN} "[Are you refusing the job?]"
"... What? No. No, I am not refusing the job!"
IDENT: {UNKNOWN} "[Check your ship for details. You will get a location where you will retrieve your new ship tomorrow. If you cannot find the last two Venators, then you will move on to your final target.]"
"Who is she really?"
IDENT: {UNKNOWN} "[This is your last warning. Do your job, or you will not leave that Vulture alive.]"
"W-..."
SUVAS: "Channel Closed."
"... Fuck."
For the first time in his whole career, Predator felt... nervous. Who were these people exactly? Why was he being sent halfway across the galaxy to kill someone? Just who would be willing to pay 180 mil so easily for the death of 12 individuals? This was something deeper. Much deeper. This job was more than just a hit. It was a cover-up.
Pacing in the corridor as he rubbed his hands together nervously, he eventually turned to the cockpit door of his Vulture, and entered, walking towards his flight seat. Sitting down on it with a heavy sigh, he stared out the viewport at the stars beyond, his breathing echoing in the helmet he always wore. He weighed up the situation constantly for the next few minutes, thinking about what he was getting himself into.
Eventually, he leant forward and straightened up in the chair, flicking the ship's systems online and booting up the drives. Gripping the controls, he exhaled slowly. He wasn't sure what he was about to do, but one thing was certain.
He had a job to do.
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Credit:
This story is only possible thanks to our squadron and community. Join TITAN Contractors, a diverse and talented squadron, and experience our custom lore and events. This logbook/short story as well as other associated images and story is property of TITAN Contractors, CMDR Radiumio. Thank you so much for reading!
INARA page here.