Downfall, Part 2
08 Jun 2017User4296
Siegel Station, Hoji SystemImperial Space
June 3302
Yarrite wasn't far from the Hoji system, and even though I had a few days left before the event, there was still something else I had to do first.
Sidra had provided me with the addresses of herself, Tucker, and the Akon family, just in case an emergency arose - and the events of the past several days certainly qualified as such. While the Akons were housed in the nicer outer ring of the station, Tucker lived in one of the many residential districts that were housed along the station's main "strut." The gravity here was artificial, and weaker than the 1G Earth standard that living on the outer ring provided.
The tram came to a stop at one of the many terminals that ran the length of the station and deposited a group of people, myself included. I checked my PDA - this was the terminal he lived closest to, and doubtless traveled this same tram many times himself heading to and from the hospital that Cassandra was - had been - a patient of. I winced as I began my journey down one of the side streets.
This place wasn't immaculately clean as the outer ring certainly was, which brought the stark difference - an independent station in Imperial space - more into focus. Stations like this only had to pay lip service to the Empire, and make the more visible areas appear to conform to Imperial rule - while the underbelly oftentimes suffered as a result. Slavery was an option, but to people who were only marginally Imperial, that option was met with revulsion.
It didn't take long to reach the correct building, but I slowed as I saw the cluster of people huddled out in front of it. The telltale blue and red flashing lights of the station's security forces bathed the small street in a surreal glow. As I reached the edge of the crowd, I noticed several of the black-clad security force operatives mulling around the area, standing guard around something they had covered with a yellow tarp.
"What happened?" I asked a bystander, a white man who seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of attention on his large, blonde afro. He turned toward me, revealing his "CATS 4 LYFE" shirt, and pointed up at a smashed window about halfway up the building.
"Someone got got, man," he said, then pointed at the object covered by a tarp in the street. "Someone got got bad."
I studied the window - aside from the flashing lights from the street, the apartment was dark and empty, at least as far as I could tell. "Shouldn't they be investigating?" I asked.
The man shrugged and patted at his afro, apparently trying to keep it styled. "Naw, man. The cops don't come here that often - they only show up if you pay the protection tax. No tax, no protection, and nobody comes crying when you get dead."
"But this is an Imperial system," I interjected.
"So? They don't tell us what to do," he said, shrugging again. "The Empire's fancy rules don't matter if nobody's around to enforce it." He scoffed and wandered away, leaving all sorts of socio-political questions for another time.
I began picking my way around the edge of the crowd, and slowly worked around toward the front door of the building - people were still freely going in an out, which only drove home the relative lawlessness of this section of the station. I entered at about the same time an ambulance rolled up and the paramedics got out to load the body - tarp and all.
I checked my PDA as I moved up the stairs. A nagging feeling had been building in the pit of my stomach - the calls I had placed to Tucker had all gone unanswered, and now with the body in the street below, that nagging feeling was getting worse. It didn't take long to get to Tucker's floor, and what I saw confirmed my suspicions.
The placard that bore Tucker's apartment number hung next to a door that had been kicked inward, nearly off its hinges. I drew my revolver as I neared the door, took a breath, and entered the apartment, weapon leveled in front of me.
The room was dark, and the only light that found its way into the apartment were the police lights from the street below through the broken window. Whatever struggle happened here had been over quickly, and had ended with Tucker's flight through the glass.
I swept the small apartment once, taking care to stay away from the windows - no sense attracting attention from the street below. The apartment was empty, and aside from the struggle in the living room, not much else had been disturbed. I righted the chair that had been knocked away from the terminal and sat down, placing the revolver on the table next to the keyboard.
Had to be Takamura, I thought as I brought the terminal out of sleep mode. Tucker certainly counted as a loose end - but why toss him out a window?
The terminal sprung to life, and I was surprised to see it didn't have a password. Not that it mattered - a quick scan of the system files revealed that the terminal was empty. It must have been reformatted –
"Hands up. Slowly," a voice from behind me growled. It had a strange sort of electronic rasp to it. My hands slowly rose as my gaze darted to the nearby pistol. "Don't even think about it," it said again, seemingly reading my thoughts. I felt the barrel of a weapon press against the back of my head, and a hand reached around me and took hold of my revolver, before disappearing out of sight.
"Stand up," the voice said next, and I felt the chair suddenly disappear from behind me as I rose, having been slid into the middle of the room. They're good, I thought, and a few awkward moments passed as I stared out the wall-length window, my arms raised and out to either side.
"Turn around," it said next, and the barrel was pulled away from the back of my head. I turned, and saw someone clad in a black flight suit, although the helmet was still attached, which explained the electronic rasp of the voice - some kind of voice masking system built into the helmet. The curves under the form-fitting flight suit, however, were decidedly feminine.
"What's with the voice?" I asked.
"Shut up," she growled. "Where's the bastard that lives here?"
"Somebody wanted to see if he could fly," I said, pointing toward the broken window with my raised right hand. "You didn't see the crowd on your way in?"
"Did you kill him?" she asked, her head turning toward the window.
I shook my own. "No, but I have a pretty good idea who did."
"Who?"
"I answered your question - now you have to answer mine. Who are you, and why are you here?"
The woman tilted her head ever so slightly, "I’m the one with the gun."
"Fair enough. What about the second part?" I asked.
"I came looking for him," she said, nodding toward the window, "but I guess someone got to him first. Saved me the trouble, I guess, but now my lead’s gone."
Strange, I thought. Not part of Takamura's team, but she also wanted Tucker dead. "What'd he do to you?" I asked.
She paused, then sighed. "We can't talk here... We'll go somewhere else. You first. And if you try anything…" she threatened, and motioned toward the open door with her pistol.
"Not much of a choice, is it?" I asked.
"Not unless you want me to kill you here," she shrugged. "Now move."