Big Damn Heroes - Prologue: Back in Business
08 Oct 2016Nickolas Calhoun
Previous ChapterIn collaboration with Anna Reid. Go check her side of the story.
Big Damn Heroes - Prologue: Back in Business
City background credit goes to Gunsbins on DeviantArt.
---Qa’Wakana 6 - Norhaven City---
I lay awake on the bed in my hotel room as the Qa’Wakana star started to set below the cityscape. I had slept for most of the day, exhausted from my encounter with the Bratva. My attempt at sleep was patchy, at best- constantly waking up from bad dreams. Frustrated, I sat up slowly, heaving myself off the bed and toward the small ensuite of the hotel room. It was run-down, dirty and dull, but it was better than nothing. I hopped into the shower, the water trickled out of the nozzle with barely enough pressure to cover me. I let the water run down my face, stinging the various cuts down my body as I washed off the dry blood.
I left the hotel into the brisk night, wandering and looking for the transit system to take me to Norhaven’s starport, watching my back and keeping my hand near my pistol, lest the Bratva were out searching for me. Had I been here in more favourable circumstances, I might have grown a liking for this place, but all I could think about was getting off the planet and back to Kremainn, where hopefully Apollo would be still docked and waiting for me.
I also need to have a word with that scumbag from Kremainn Corp. A lot of words.
My trek to the starport was more or less uneventful. The transit system was fast and got me to the starport on the outskirts within half an hour of boarding. The starport was busy, the sound of ships taking off and landing, as well as machinery and chatter filled the ambience. Rather than take my chances with a private pilot in these parts, I bought a ticket on the cheapest space liner I could find that would take me directly to Kremainn.
I never really understood what people meant when they said “packed in like sardines” until I boarded the transport to Kremainn - a Lakon Type-6 transporter retrofitted with cheap and nasty passenger cabins. Legroom? Keep dreaming. In-flight entertainment? Not on your life.
This is why I have my own ship. I thought as I tried to at least get somewhat comfortable on the seat. You get what you pay for, I guess. This is going to be a long flight.
---Kremainn - Wohler Terminal---
I thought I might have been able to get a wee bit of shut-eye on the trip back to Wohler Terminal, but when you have zero legroom, and the person next to you keeps elbowing you in the ribs as they read their book, that becomes impossible. By the time the crew announced our arrival into Wohler Terminal, I was in the foulest of moods. They could have at least offered a drink.
My limbs ached as I walked down the exit ramp of the ship, and the rest of the passengers were looking as miserable as I was, but it was certainly nice to be back in familiar territory. I took a shuttle to the docking pad where Apollo was parked before I disappeared, and sure enough, it was still there. It’s good to be home, old girl!
I stepped inside the pilot’s cabin, longing for a shower- a real shower, and a fresh change of clothes. I sighed a heavy sigh of relief as the water ran down my body, decent water pressure and a controlled temperature. I was home, I was happy. There’s no place like your own starship as the saying goes.
I stepped out of the shower, drying myself off with a clean towel and slipped into a fresh shirt, pants and threw on my jacket. My next step was to contact Benny. My credits were starting to run low. I needed work, and Benny was the best guy to help me find it.
“Where the hell have you been amigo? I’ve been looking all over for you for days,” he said, almost agitated as he answered his comms.
“Head to Delinquent’s Inn and have a drink ready for me. It’s a long story.”
“That place has been weird without that sassy bartender friend of yours.”
I sighed. “Yeah, and she ain’t coming back… I’ll explain when I get there buddy.”
---Wohler Terminal - Delinquent’s Inn---
“Dead? Who’d want to kill someone like her?” Benny asked me, confused.
I quickly gulped my drink. “She was killed… to get at me. Because I killed Tommy Rosenberg.”
Benny frowned. “That petty fraudster?”
I leaned in, pouring myself another glass of whisky. “He was more than just a petty fraudster. He was part of the Rosenberg Bratva…”
Viktor’s piercing gaze flashed in front of my eyes. You take something away from me, now, I take something from you.
“Their boss, Viktor had me kidnapped and tortured, then killed her right in front of me as an exchange for Tommy’s death.”
Benny flinched, opening his mouth as if to say something, but stopped himself.
“Dios mio Amigo! That’s rough, man.” He lifted a cigarette to his mouth, lighting it and taking a long drag. “So, you going to take the fight back to the Bratva?”
I scoffed. “What? Take on the entire Bratva on my own? Are you crazy, Benny? No. I called you here because I need some work. I’m running a little low on credits.”
The olive skinned man nodded. “Maybe you can take small pot-shots at them just to make their lives a little difficult. I may have something of interest actually, now that you mentioned it.”
He presented me his datapad, showing a small bulletin. “Some rich guy’s daughter has gone missing. He’s offering a pretty handsome fee to go get her back.”
I took a look at the datapad. A young woman’s portrait, no older than 30, was presented on the header of the advert. Benny’s face turned to a sly grin.
“Just look at those ta-tas amigo! I’d pull a rescue like this for free if I were a merc like you!”
I shook my head at him. “You’re not exactly a man of class, buddy.”
“What are you talking about mano? Benito Santiago is all class.”
I chuckled slightly, returning my attention to the datapad. “Whatever, man. Do we know who she was last seen with?”
Benny took back his datapad, prodding the screen a few times and returning it to me with a dossier on the screen. On the dossier was pictures of a bald man with a chilling expression staring right back at me. His face was withered and peppered with acne scarring.
Oh hell, this guy has mass kidnapper/serial killer written all over him.
Benny chimed in. “Conrad Komisch. Recently released from a mental asylum. He’s one fucked up guy, and damn creepy around the ladies-”
“More creepy than you, Benny?” I laughed.
He frowned. “Shut up, amigo! Rumor has it that this pendejo was quite close with our missing princess, and was last spotted in a dark alley with her on CCTV footage from the Altair system.”
My face grimaced. “Now there’s a face even a mother couldn’t love.”
Benny stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray in the middle of the table. “You’re telling me. That dossier sends chills down my spine.”
I sat back and thought about it for a moment. The credits on offer were good, the guy was a total creep, and rescuing a damsel-in-distress wasn’t always a bad thing.
“Alright, I’ll put my name down.” I said, finishing off my drink.
Benny smiled. “Excellent. I’ll let my contact know. There’s one other thing, though.”
I leaned back in again. “What’s that?”
“You’ll be working with someone. She has a contract to bring the guy down. She outright refused to participate in a rescue, so my contact had me find her a partner to work with instead, which is where you come in.”
My eyebrow raised. “A partner eh? Well… That’s not normally my style, but a job’s a job right?”
Benny winked. “Think of the ta-tas amigo.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Not really my type, but the money is good so I’ll take it.”
Benny took back his datapad, and shortly after my own datapad beeped.
“I’ve sent you the coordinates of where you’ll be meeting your partner, amigo. Some out-of-the-way shitpile of a station.”
I furrowed my brow as I examined the coordinates on my datapad. “Out of the way is right… That’ll be a long supercruise trip.”
He nodded, standing up. “Then you’d best head off soon. Don’t wanna keep your partner waiting, after all.”
I stood up as well, pouring the remaining Old Sol into my glass and swigging it down before leaving.
“I’ll leave shortly, and as always, I’ll leave you some wreckage to loot.”
He shook his head, “It’s not looting, mano, it’s salvaging.”
I laughed as I strode out of the bar. “Same thing right? Later, buddy.”
I sat back on the pilot’s chair aboard Apollo, looking around and marvelling about how great it felt to be back in the saddle. The pad rose into the docking bay and the clamps released my ship. I felt the rush of joy and pure bliss as I passed through the mailslot out into space. The feeling of true freedom.
I plot the coordinates Benny sent me into the nav computer and spooled up the frameshift drive, thinking about who it is I would be meeting. He never specified who it was, but I wasn’t one to complain. After all, I do like meeting new people.
