Ripples: Chapter 2
05 Jan 2019MMMMMalcolm
Malcolm and Kay stepped off the Krait MK II with a purpose in their stride. They didn’t engage in small talk, they didn’t take in the sights - not that a military installation has many sights - they barely acknowledged the driver of the hover car waiting for them. This wasn’t like Malcolm. Under normal circumstances he at least said “Hello” to everyone. These weren’t normal circumstances.Quentin Ramsey already had replacement security personnel guarding the installation from looters and looky-loos when the trio arrived. Darting around and between the guards were other individuals removing large black zipper bags. The hover car turned toward a prefab hastily setup as a command center. Four guards stood vigilant at its entrance. They snapped to attention as the couple exited the vehicle and entered the building.
“Ramsey,” Malcolm called out. “What happened here?” AWE’s security chief looked up from the group of terminals and technicians seated at a large table in the middle of the room.
“Nerve gas sir,” he replied. “A single assailant drove in from the West using an SRV. It is extremely mountainous on that side so security was lighter. After subduing two guards and overriding the safety protocols, he introduced a lethal dose of Sarin gas into the environmental unit. Death was slow and painful for some; the lucky ones fell unconscious first.”
“How did Lara survive?”
“The assailant compromised one of the guards.” He tapped the shoulder of a technician who brought up video dated two days ago. “See, the guard passed Lara a cylinder.” The video switched to a few hours ago. “Here Lara is removing a syringe and injecting himself with an antidote. You can hear others choking or screaming in pain as they succumbed to the gas.” The video continued to run and they heard Ron Lara crying out. Moments later there’s a flash and the cell door falls in.
“Who is that?” Kay asked.
“I don’t know ma’am. His face is covered by a darkened helmet visor. We were able to determine where they are headed though.” Malcolm turned to exit the center, Kay quickly followed.
“Send the coordinates to the Krait.”
“Already sent them two minutes before you walked through the door sir. Also had a detail load a cargo canister with some new Vandermeer weaponry. Video shows the mystery merc is wearing high-tech battle armor, so I sent you some of our own… among other things.”
“Good,” Malcolm yelled over his shoulder. “We'll contact you when we have some answers.”
****
Lara awoke groggy and irritated. His neck hurt from being cramped up in the small pod. He was certain DeMarr ordered this on purpose, they didn't get along very well, but since he was free he was willing to overlook the insult. Once his eyes began to adjust, his face twisted in confusion.
"What is this? Where am I? Why haven't you taken me back to Alioth?"
There was a dry chuckle from behind Lara’s back. Lannius DeMarr walked into Lara’s view and regarded him with a curious expression. He shook his head and smiled wryly.
“How far have the mighty fallen, eh Lara?” DeMarr chuckled again and tilted his head sideways studying Lara’s features. He made a vague gesture as if framing the man’s face. “I think incarceration did you good, you’ve lost some weight. As to Alioth, I doubt you or I have many friends there currently. No, no. I brought you here, because I think we have a chat long overdue.” When DeMarr first met Lara he wore an arrogant smirk that instantly got on DeMarr's nerves. He was pleased the smirk was no longer there.
"Don't let the circumstances confuse you DeMarr. You still work for the Order and that's because I brought you in. If you take me back to Alioth so I can make my report, you just might live long enough to see the fruits of your labor."
“No, Lara, you’re the one mistaken. I have every intention of coming out on top in this one, but it won’t be by simply playing toady to your Order.” He paused for a moment in thought and then continued. “You see, I want out. Not simply out of this job, but out of this life. And I want to do it comfortably. And I had it all figured out, until you went and fucked things up royally.”
There was a dangerous edge to DeMarr’s voice now, he leaned towards Lara eyes suddenly blazing.
“Contrary to popular belief, I do not enjoy violence. It is a necessity in my line of work, but I have never relished in the thought of bloodshed. In your case however…” he grinned without mirth “…I’ll make an exception.” He nodded to someone behind Lara. The strike came quick and landed hard.
“That probably didn’t break anything. Yet. Or at least nothing that would prevent you from talking. Are we in a mutual understanding regarding the nature of this discussion, or do you want further clarification?”
Ron slowly straightened back up, rubbing the back of his neck. First the pod, now this. He didn't respond, but arrogance gave way to... so that's what Lara looks like afraid. Lannius smiled. Ron wasn't restrained in any way, but he had no doubt he was a prisoner, ...again.
"What do you want to know?"
“Excellent.” Lannius grabbed a chair and sat before Lara. “I’ll begin by asking a very, very simple question. One that I’m just dying to hear the answer to. How the fuck did you manage to not only lose grip of Awawar, but Qamadi also?” DeMarr growled and continued “You have any idea what that did to the deals I had made with some members in the Assembly? They would’ve brought in votes, votes that were instrumental in the plan. Some never-heard-of merc company comes into the scene and suddenly you’re bending over backwards. With the resources you had, you should’ve kicked them to kingdom come three times over.” Ron bristled at being questioned on the intricacies of system management by this two bit smuggler. He glared at his captor and replied through gritted teeth.
"You know as well as I do, the majority of those resources are in 16 TAU CORONAE BOREALIS trying to manipulate two and a half billion people into giving us their votes. I told you to ignore the larger systems and control more of the smaller systems, but YOU didn't listen to me." Ron wasn't about to admit he underestimated AWE. Or that he was shocked to hear Qamadi had fallen as well.
DeMarr sighed, “And I told you, to forget manipulating the masses. The ones you need to manipulate are the people whose job it is in the first place – the Assembly members who already have the needed pull. And in order to do that, palms need to be greased. Awawar’s markets and Qamadi’s mining licenses were an enticing bait. Without those to show for, how do you suppose the politicians now feel about helping us, huh?” He stood up and started pacing to and fro in front of Lara, glancing at him from time to time. “Awawar and Qamadi were the prize for the delivery of Tau Coronae. Now you gone and went losing them. We lost what pull we had.” He stopped and leaned towards Lara eyes narrowing. “For that alone, I should put a bullet in your skull.” He relaxed and straightened up. “But what good would that do?” He turned his back to Lara and was silent for a moment. “Tell me about this corporation…what were they called…Armed Wanderers Enterprises? Nobody comes into the scene like that from out of nowhere without significant resources. Who are they? Who’s their taskmaster?” The Progenitor thought for a moment. What was their benefactor's name? They researched this while the Awawar Crimson Dragons moved to slow their progress in the system.
"Anthony Wantz," he exclaimed when the name became clear. "He's an Elite Trader that owns Wantz Shipping in Sol. I believe his daughter helped establish Armed Wanderers Enterprises which is why he backed them." DeMarr raised an eyebrow upon hearing the name.
“Wantz? As in richer-bastard-than-anyone-has-right-to-be uptight Federal business tycoon? Married to a top-level politician? That Wantz?”
Ron narrowed his eyes at DeMarr. How did this gutter trash know about Anthony Wantz he thought?
"Yeah, that's him I guess. You know him?"
“Know of him, yes. Haven’t had any direct dealings with him, but in my line of work it’s good to know all the big players, and Wantz is a big player.” DeMarr walked to Lara with a smile and grabbed him by the shoulders patting him on the cheek. “You know what, Ronnie boy? That actually makes sense. It’s vexing, but mostly interesting. Yes, Federal scheming. Makes a whole lot of sense. Wantz’s motives may at least partly be driven by a misguided bout of paternal affection, but his business partners see things otherwise I’m sure. They may not have known of our plans, but when does the Federation need a specific reason to screw the Alliance, am I right?” He laughed and continued “There’s a saying among Alliance people I’m sure you’re familiar with: when things go wrong, it’s probably the Feds. Seems that it’s true this time as well. I have to say, funding an outwardly independent corporation to pick on the Alliance is sneaky, but it fits the picture.” DeMarr straightened up and stroked his chin in thought. “But what to do about it?” He then fixed his gaze on Lara. “Oh but I am forgetting myself. The first order of business is to ask, what to do with you?” He extended his arm and a figure behind Lara handed him a gun. DeMarr looked at the pistol lovingly. “Ever seen one of these?” He asked Lara. “It’s a slugthrower, a coilgun to be precise. I once knew an Imperial fighter pilot who was obsessed with ‘old-school’ -type weapons. I have to say, I understand his fascination. I had this custom-made in Bugayaman a while ago. I’m sad to say it’s not one-of-a-kind as it’s a copy of a previously made specimen, but it is a beauty nevertheless. You want to see how it works?”
Ron's eyes went wide. What kind of stupid question was that? Of course he wanted no parts of that weapon. Even if he had the chance to shoot DeMarr, his goon would end him before he could act on it.
"Look DeMarr, you don't have to do anything rash. I never saw you. I can tell the Order I devised my own escape. Just let me go."
"Oh no, that wouldn't do at all. The Order have access to Honesty Pills and would doubtless use them." An electronically-modulated voice came from behind Lara, the same voice his 'rescuer' had used. A slim figure stepped into his view, completely concealed in a remlock suit and helmet. "Still, Mr DeMarr, if you are just going to shoot him now then I feel it is awfully inefficient of you. I could have asked him that question myself and disposed of him in Awawar. You say you want out, and I'm always interested in enhancing my pay-day. I'm certain Mr Lara here has any number of stashes located across several systems 'just in case'. Cash, stock, valuable incriminating data, all kinds of stuff. I'll happily extract their locations for you, in return for 25%. It should only take a couple of hours."
DeMarr sighed. "I was hoping I could test this gun. But you're right. Lara may have some interesting bonuses hidden away in his cranium. I'll give you a couple of hours, just make sure you clean up afterwards." He smiled to Lara. "Forgive my manners, this is Agent One. His primary quality is, that he is very efficient. If you co-operate, he'll kill you quick.. ish. If not?.. Well." He then turned and walked out of the door, pausing just long enough to say, "Goodbye Lara."
The helmeted Agent turned to Ron Lara. "Now, Mr Lara, I too have access to Honesty Pills. I've found they work best alongside the judicious application of pain. Shall we begin?" Shortly, the screaming began. It didn't last all that long, from an outside point of view. For the participants it was an eternity of heaven and hell, respectively.
*****
Vexxus walked the long and dimly lit corridors, her hawkish features lit from below by the hard yellow lights set along the walkway. Sharp twangs of her footfall indicated that she was moving with a purpose. She turned a corner and was greeted with a cold, and closed door. A simple pad twinkled a red light. She rapted in an access code and the large door slid apart with groaning hiss. Beyond, her Fer-de-Lance sat, waiting patiently, like a viper in the grass. She boarded the vessel and wasted no time making her way to the cockpit. The one thing she hated about her ship, the Dazzling Decay- the cockpit. Namely how the pilot was off center. She had often wondered what strain of onion head the designers and engineers of the ship were smoking when they decided that was a good idea. But she did marvel at the marble flooring she had installed. Granted, it was linoleum-like in nature, but It still looked really chic against the marble pillars.
Or so she wished.
No marble pillars, yet. She sat in her chair and secured a communication line. A grizzly of a man’s face, large and portly, unshaven and unkempt filled the screen. He spoke, his mouth full of twisted and yellowed teeth and spoke in a slow drawl, akin to the ancient South on the North American continent.
“Yyyyup.”
Vexxus looked vexed, her face twisted into a sneer, “Are you in position?”
“Yyyyup.”
“It’s time to move in.” she ordered.
“Yyyyup.”
She closed the line and sat back heavily into the chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. Borff was one of those people, that if his intellect was compared to the brightness of a star, his would be in the order of class Y. But, she wasn’t leaving all the details up to him. No, he had a handler, and she had already made arrangements with him...
*****
Smix preferred to work from the shadows, and much like the rat he was, it suited him well. He had received the same communication from Vexxus, though his line was on a sub frequency so that Borff was unaware of it. Though, he seriously doubted that Borff would ever figure it out. Still, his job was simple. Keep an eye on the lug and ensure he was playing by the rules. He ran the cool sharp edge of a blade along his tongue and shivered in delight at the metallic taste. He turned the blade and held it backwards in his hand as he darted from shadow to shadow following the the yak-like man. He wasn’t exactly difficult to track.
They came upon a series of building, and he watched Borff handle the door in a way that a rhino would pick a flower. Which is to say, he just trampled it over. Vexxus was right, he knew how to make an entrance.
A moment later the communication line came live with Borff’s low voice.
“They gone.” he said rather stupidly.
There was a long pause followed by Vexxus’s big girl voice. Hard, and cool as ice. Smix felt his spine tingle. He had long associated that particular voice with a kind of malice that could only be satiated with blood. “What do you mean they’re gone?”
“No one here except desk lady. She be shaking good.”
Another long pause.
“Interrogate her.”
“Yyyyup.”
Smix was mildly curious. Typically he was the one to do the interrogations. After all, he had the brains for it. He wondered how Borff would handle it and decided to watch for a minute. And if he needed to intervene, he would.
Borff took a lumbering step forward towards the huddled desk jockey, who was covering her face with a three ring holo-binder.
“Borff sorry ‘bout door.” he said.
The terrified woman peered over the binder.
“Borff looking for flower shop.”
She cocked her head and spoke in a trembling voice. “I, uh… It’s across the way.”
“Borff’s mother like daisies. Borff wanted to cheer her up. Borff mother sad.”
She gave the man a very curious look, and slowly put the binder down.
“Oh.” she said rather sincerely. “Well, it’s across the way.”
“What place did this use to be?” he asked, quite pink in his face.
Feeling slightly more at ease, she answered. “It was a travel agency, but-” she sighed, “as you can see we went out of business-” her brow furrowed, “rather abruptly, actually.”
“Borff always wanted to give mother a trip to another place!” he said cheerfully.
She came out of her pensive state, “Like I said, we went out of business, you’ll have to look elsewhere.”
“Where did travel business go?” he asked, as his face fell.
She shrugged. “I don’t know.” she resumed packing her things from on top of the desk into a large open box, “Though I did overhear the manager say something about Awawar.”
He lumbered over and picked up a delicate lamp in his ham-like fist. “Is that a planet?”
She took the lamp with a smile and placed it into the box of other office paraphernalia, “I suppose.”
“Borff sorry for door. I go buy flower now.” he said as he turned and left the hastily vacant premise.
Smix wasn’t astonished in the least. He was absolutely flabbergasted. His usual, and preferred method of interrogation involved knives and making new orifices in the human body. Though, he rather did enjoy watching people in pain, and relished in the feeling of power he often had when inflicting it. A moment later his comm came to life.
“Travel agency is in Awawar.”