Pegasi Shanghai - Chapter 1: No Weapons Allowed
18 Dec 2016Kyla Emmerich
Author's note: This arc takes place before all previous logbook entries.“No weapons allowed beyond this point,” reads a sign above a door in large, red text. That’s cool, I guess, I mean it is only the entrance to a rather up-market establishment, though I tend to prefer to have my gun and not need it. The establishment, named the Red Arrow, is actually just a front for the thugs that operate around these parts. I am on my way to meet someone who wants a bunch of narcotics moved into Smurf land.
It is well known that the Smurfs around the Cubeo area have a major stick up their arse when it comes to drugs, and drug runs into that corner of the ‘verse tend to pay quite handsomely if done right. I’m not a huge fan of drugs myself, aside from the occasional Onionhead every now and again, but I’m not one to judge those who wish to let themselves go. Hey, it’s their bodies, right?
I check my back, making sure I am not being followed before proceeding toward the twin sliding doors of Red Arrow - something that is rather habitual for someone like me. Once through the doors, a bouncer behind a glass panel with a small opening greets me in a croaky and bored voice.
“Hand over your weapons ma’am, it’s the rules.”
Reluctantly, I unholster my pistol from under my jacket and slide it under the glass.
“Fine, but you better take good care of it,” I respond.
“You’ll get it back when you exit. Enjoy your time at Red Arrow,” he finished with manners that were forced and ungenuine. Clearly the poor sod hates his job.
The inside of Red Arrow is… well… Red. Neon lights line the walls, giving the place a crimson hue. The place is huge, with room to fit at least four or five standard station bars in here. There’s two tiers, the ground floor which houses the main bar in the center and several booths around the walls, while upstairs is where all the strippers and their admirers congregate.
I scope around the rowdy and intoxicated crowd, looking for my contact. His name is Ronium Sutherland and he described himself as tall, stocky and tanned and he’ll be wearing a pair of dark shades. I’ll believe that when I see him myself as people tend to fabricate things to make themselves sound more attractive or intimidating. No one around matches his description, so I order a pint of the Federal Reserve and find a booth off to the side where I hopefully won’t attract much attention. The Fed Reserve beer is mediocre at best, but at least it isn’t Draconis Dumbfire - probably the worst liquor I’ve had in my life.
Half an hour passes, and still no sign of my tardy contact. Frustrated, I pull out my datapad and compile a message.
<To: Ronium>
Hey, do you plan on showing up at all? Or have you decided that the Smurfs don’t need their party pills after all?
-Kyla
He is quick to send a response, at least.
<From: Ronium>
Hey, chill your beans, kid. I’ll be there when I am there.
I scrunch up my brow after reading his message. Kid? Who does this twat think he is?!
Another half an hour passes, I am three beers down and I am getting rather annoyed. Finally, a tall, tanned figure with a long, brown coat and dark shades strides through the club’s entrance. He matches most of the description that was provided, though he isn’t what I’d call stocky. He looks like he could use a few extra calories in his life. Perhaps a drug dealer who gets a little too enthusiastic with sampling his own product.
He and I make eye contact, and I nod in acknowledgement. He pulls up a chair, not even bothering to get a drink first, then removes his shades.
“First of all lass,” he says with a cockney accent, “they’re not party pills, they’re narcotics. A nice new batch that I think will be quite popular among the Smurfs.”
“Nice to meet you too, I’m Kyla.”
The gaunt man scoffed. “I’m a man of business, and I like to get straight to the point. I don’t have time for small-talk.”
“Fine by me, but you do realize that smuggling into Cubeo commands a pretty hefty fee right? It’s not exactly an easy task slipping drugs under the noses of Aisling’s Smurfs.”
“I am aware,” he said, lighting up a cigarette. “But it pays me pretty damn well if you’re able to pull it off.”
I smirk wryly. “I’m sure I’ll manage. Anywhere in particular in Cubeo? Pretty sure the stations are off limits.”
“You will go planetside. My contact operates a small distance out from Lambaesis City.”
The gaunt man pulls out a slate, bringing up a topographic map of Cubeo 3, a lush world right in the heart of Smurfland. On the map is a small, red marker, highlighting a small base surrounded by dense bush.
“Assuming you accept, I’ll transmit these coordinates to your PDA. Break atmo at the right angle and you should slip right through security patrol routes.”
My lips curl into a smirk. “I’m no stranger to slipping past security. It’s all part of the thrill.”
The man pops away his slate. “So, that’s a yes then?”
“Once you load up my cargo bay, I’ll be heading off.”
Ronium frowns, stroking his chin slowly. “Aren’t you going to ask me what kind of narcotics you’ll be shipping?”
“No,” I say, maintaining a smirk. “As long as it’s not slaves or corpses, I couldn’t care less as long as I’m being paid.”
His lips curl into an amused smile. “I see. Most people tend to ask a lot of questions before accepting a contract. Some get a little too nosey for my liking. My boys will assist with loading the cargo. Come back to me once the job is done and you’ll get your pay.”
After an uneventful journey, I arrive in the Cubeo star system, the capital of Aisling herself, queen of media drama and temper tantrums. It baffles me how she has so many supporters, but perhaps I underestimate the power of a pretty face. That pretty face is enough to get the system security all riled up when they catch someone like me smuggling in a shipment of narcotics. But that’s the fun part, not getting caught.
I keep a watchful eye on my sensors, paying close attention to the movements of other ships around the system and making sure none are on a vector to interdict me. So far, so good. Everyone seems to be minding their own business. I slow as I approach Cubeo 3. The blue planet slowly grows in my view and I slow into a steady orbit around the planet before I make the final approach. The city of Lambaesis glows below my ship against the dark. The place looks majestic and it piques my interest for a while, but that is not my destination. My destination lies 150 klicks from the outskirts of the city, and thankfully the coordinates were downloaded into Moon Shot’s datacore or I would have no hope in hell to find the place.
The ship made a soft clunk as it made contact with the hidden docking pad. The view of the sky was almost completely obscured by the canopy of the bush, with only a small opening to allow ships in and out. It was no wonder the authorities didn’t know about this place. I step down the boarding ramp of my ship and I am immediately greeted by a ground crew. They’re dressed in dingy overalls, and they’re accompanied by a tall man with white hair and a rather dashing uniform. He approaches me and extends his hand.
“Caius Bisley, at your service, and you are?” he greets with a posh voice.
We shake hands. “Kyla.”
He gives me an inquisitive glance. “Kyla…?”
“Just Kyla.”
“I take it you didn’t receive too much trouble from local authorities, given your calm demeanour.”
“No problems at all. It was almost too easy actually.”
The man smirked. “Excellent, allow us to unload your cargo and I will secure your payment.”
My brows furrow in confusion. “I thought I was to return to Ronium for that.”
“Change of plans. However, do pay him another visit. He’s got some more work for someone of your caliber.”
He hands over a bag full of credit chips. “Okay, well I guess I can’t complain about being paid early.”
His smile is almost menacing, and it’s making me slightly uncomfortable. “I believe the last cargo has been unloaded, and thus our meeting is concluded. I imagine we’ll be seeing each other again in the future?”
“Uh, sure. If they pay is good enough.”
He turns around and walks off. “Fly safe out there, maddam.”
There’s something really off about this guy.
I return to Red Arrow, and Ronium is leaning against the bar, waiting for me. He swirls around his cocktail glass and nods at me as I approach.
“I hear your little run went without a hitch. I’m impressed,” he says.
“Yeah, and I heard you’ve got some more work for me.”
His eyebrow raises and he smiles. “I do indeed. I need you to follow me into one of the VIP lounges. Not something I wish to discuss in earshot of the public.”
We enter the VIP lounge. It has its own private bar in the corner and comfortable looking sofas along the walls. The door closes behind us and Ronium turns to face me.
“I have a job for you in Pegasi,” he utters, his grin is dark.
I take a step back. “Pegasi?”’
The gaunt man looks behind my shoulder and nods. “Yes, a rather lucrative one in fact…”
I feel a needle pierce my neck.
“...for me, that is.”
My words slur as the world goes blurry. “You son of a…”
Everything goes black.