Pax

Akinlabi was back on the outside. The busy streets of West-side were a harsh contrast compared to the small room where the negotiation was handled. People were coming and going, some brushing against him as he walked, but most kept their distance. Behind, Rico Grieger and three of his thugs were following. Two were carrying hefty briefcases, where the unmarked credits for the purchase were kept, until the promised exchange.

"Hey!" Rico shouted suddenly. "Watch where you're heading scrap-brains!" An unstable overweight male had bumped into him, and Rico shoved the man violently into the concrete ground. He towered over the fallen, who muttered apologies unintelligibly in his drunkenness. For a moment, it seemed Rico Grieger would unleash his rage on the unfortunate passerby. Instead, he spat a vile curse at the man, then walked on. He was obviously nervous for having to follow the black man, who he still did not trust.

The African continued pacing quickly, taking long strides. Without being too obvious about it, he tried to find Wolf in the crowds. He couldn't see him. Wondering whether he already tagged Grieger, or if his friend had a plan, Akinlabi kept moving in the direction of the docking Baroness.

And Rico Grieger followed, always behind him.

 

Nathan picked up one of the Stilettos and gave it a few test shots. He seemed to like it.

"The Stilleto? Looks good. Are you offering this or just showing off?"

"Sugar, I don't tease. You can have that one, I'm keeping mine. Where are your other friends? This is taking too long, Silas won't stay on Ceres forever you know. If he leaves again before we get a chance to bug him we may never uncover this spy ring and you Terrans will be chasing your own tails for years trying to sniff out his tracks again. There's lots of places to hide out there in space."

***

Wolf was trailing Akinlabi and Grieger's small posse, watching his back and keeping the MEM gun ready for when he got an opportunity to get close enough.

"Be advised Stitch, big man is on the way, three men with him, expect all to be armed, copy."

"I don't like this boss, they shouldn't be getting this close to the Baroness." Stitch responded.

"I don't like it either, but that's where Akinlabi's stash is.."

"About that boss, I know that the diamonds are from New Sierra, but how did he get them?"

"I don't wanna ask, standby for udates, we'll be there...shortly. Wolf out."

 

Mort turned his attention to Nathan. It had been some time and it had been a while. Mort stared at Nathan blankly, but inside his head many wheels were turning. No one could see behind those eyes thoughts running fast and wild. Mort gave Nathan a look only a dumb curious puppy may give.

"Did you know that a man put a pistol to his head and his brains splattered across the wall? Some big case downtown, been years, but they never found the cause of suicide," Mort mumbled the way he would, "Oh...what was I saying...oh yeah do you have soda?"

Mort stared and then started walking in circle. Around and around. Then he made it a bit complicated back and forth; around and around. Up, down, around and around.

"I'm still hungry, I want a mother ship," Mort said, "I mean a sandwich. I like sandwich."

 

"Sugar, I don't tease. You can have that one, I'm keeping mine." replied Spectre.

Nathan took the gun and holstered it in his jacket.

"Where are your other friends? This is taking too long, Silas won't stay on Ceres forever you know. If he leaves again before we get a chance to bug him we may never uncover this spy ring and you Terrans will be chasing your own tails for years trying to sniff out his tracks again. There's lots of places to hide out there in space." She warned.

I've sent out a message to everyone else, no reply yet. Hopefully we'll get some news soon.

Mort turned to look at Nathan blankly.

"Did you know that a man put a pistol to his head and his brains splattered across the wall? Some big case downtown, been years, but they never found the cause of suicide," Mort began before muttering randomly.

"Oh...what was I saying...oh yeah do you have soda?" he asked Nathan.

Nathan sighed. Mort was some strange guy. But it wasn't his craziness that intrigued Nathan, it was the scar. Nathan had a feeling that the scar was the key to Mort. As far as Nathan knew, Mort didn't remember much up to now. It was like his memory couldn't go any further than the scar. Nathan could tell from MaCurdy's conversations with Mort and Lucy that Mort had been found on a ship. From what Mort had said earlier, it sounded like the ship was under attack when he got his scar on his cheek. Was it pirates attacking? Martians?

Mort began circling around, occasionally making variations.

"I'm still hungry, I want a mother ship," he said, "I mean a sandwich. I like sandwich."

Nathan looked around for Spectre. She was always hiding in the shadows. After ten seconds of searching for her, Nathan called out.

"Spectre, we got any food in here?"

While he waited for an answer, Nathan turned his attention back to the scar. He decided to see if Mort knew anything else about how he got the scar.

"Mort, I'm trying to get you some food, but first, do you remember how you got that scar?"

 

"Mort, I'm trying to get you some food, but first, do you remember how you got that scar?"

It seemed so strange how suddenly Mort went from looking like a dead brain. With no thoughts, no manners, and curiosity more like a dog. To a man with thought in his eyes. A man who was remembering things. A man who remembered the big bang and the smell of burning flesh.
There was thought and there was something mechanical in Mort's eyes. As if there was actually a soul controlling that mind.

"I remember the ground and cement," Mort said his voice still low, but there was something more earthly, more human about his tone, "And fire and the smell of burning flesh. And the feeling of the whole body being consumed by fire."

Mort stared at Nathan as if he were studying Nathan. As if Nathan was merely just something he could explain with one look. One tiresome look. Mort turned to the floor and began to scratch at his wound again. It wouldn't be this bad. It would have probably been just a burn scar on his face. With hyper pigmentation. But Mort could feel his skin crawling, he could always feel his nerves as if they were on fire. So he dug his nails in his own wound. Making it fester and bubble the way it did.

"I don't remember anything else," Mort said, "When I try to remember all I see is fire and nothing else. Everything is consumed by fire. It happened so long ago. I can't remember."

Mort did a move that looked like a jerky rain dance and he stared at Nathan again with a look that a dog would give someone. As if Mort could automatically turn off the thought inside his mind. But now they knew it was all a game. Mort was just playing a game. If he were childish and if he were innocent no one would want to harm him. And now he showed his vulnerability, which was actually being smart.

"I like flowers," Mort said, "They are so cute in bubbles."

 

At Nathan's question, Mort suddenly changed. He looked up at Nathan, studying him, his eyes growing.

"I remember the ground and cement, and fire and the smell of burning flesh. And the feeling of the whole body being consumed by fire."

Mort was looking extremely serious now. Staring at Nathan, as though his eyes were trying to decipher him. There was something inside him, a memory forced inside of him, as though it were impossible to withdraw. Mort dug his nails into the scar.

"I don't remember anything else, when I try to remember all I see is fire and nothing else. Everything is consumed by fire. It happened so long ago. I can't remember.

In an instant, Mort turned back into what seemed to be a mindless body.

"I like flowers," Mort said, as if confirming Nathan's suspicions, "They are so cute in bubbles."

Nathan sighed. "You can't remember anything else? What caused the fire? Even before the fire?"

 

"You can't remember anything else? What caused the fire? Even before the fire?"

Mort stared at the floor boards, thinking about the question. And struggling to grasp thoughts into his brain. As Mort looked up from the floorboards those who did catch a glimpse of the darting eyes could see the struggle behind them. The struggle to grasp anything. Anything into his mind. He closed his eyes. Sometimes the sounds came back to him when he did this, it was a much calmer, much less panicked world when his eyes were closed.

Standing next to a woman, faded and worn her memory and her existent no longer remember. Her figure no longer able to be filled in. They were in a store, whatever store it was the detail was missing from this standing dream. He was standing holding something, but the details of what it was missing. And then standing they all felt the first shakes of what they had thought was an earthquake. Accompanied by the earthquake were three large sounds of explosions.

And then panic. In and out. Fade from black and white. People running. Fire consuming the ground, the air thick with a smell that he couldn't describe. As if fear and panic had an aroma. Details so blurry, dark and unfilled in.

Mort opened his eyes and stared at Nathan for a second. His eyes looked lost and there seemed to be some honesty hidden in Mort's eyes. Mort shook his head no.

"I can't remember anything, all I know is two bangs, an earthquake, and fire," Mort said, "I don't know anything. I really don't. I can't remember. I can't remember the day, I can't remember what I was doing. I just don't know."

There seemed to be some frustration on Mort's face and his eyes. But it didn't seem like he wanted to open up any further. Instead he walked a little further from Nathan keeping a distance from each other.

"So, what is the future of me?" Mort asked, "Are you going to throw me back in the streets? Are you going to use what ever knowledge I have? Or are you going to kill me?"

 

Mort seemed to struggle to remember something, anything. He dropped his head and shut his eyes. He kept them shut for a small amount of time before opening his eyes and staring at Nathan. There was a strange look in his eyes as Mort shook his head.

"I can't remember anything, all I know is two bangs, an earthquake, and fire," Mort said, "I don't know anything. I really don't. I can't remember. I can't remember the day, I can't remember what I was doing. I just don't know."

Mort stepped away from Nathan.


"So, what is the future of me?" Mort asked, "Are you going to throw me back in the streets? Are you going to use what ever knowledge I have? Or are you going to kill me?"

Nathan thought for a moment. Pappy would be pissed. Everyone would be pissed, but he couldn't send Mort back.

"We'll keep you. At least for now..."

 

Catherine didn’t usually take shortcuts to get places, but tonight was an exception. Her brunette hair fell softly onto her shoulders, and for any stranger, she was a pretty thing to look at. It fell to one side as she turned to check if anyone was behind her, it wasn’t very dark out, but she felt as if she should be more cautious. Women’s intuition, maybe.

She made her way down an alleyway, quickening her pace just a bit. There were shadows to either side of her, and her heart fluttered for a moment as she caught movement from her peripherals. Ignore it, she thought. As if to counter her mind’s point, a voice scared her into alertness, rough and darkly.

“Where you going there kitten?” a man said, stepping away from concealment, his arms large but hanging loosely next to his pockets. Catherine noted from just his tone, he had no good intentions. She replied with a weak excuse.

“Me? Oh, heading home to see my boyfriend.” She lied. The man took a single, slow, deliberate step forward.

“Well, that’s a pity I’m making him wait a bit longer tonight.” The man retorted, a wicked smile crossing his lips.

From seemingly nowhere, two more men appeared, this time on Catherine’s flanks. She barely had time to react, before one of the men shot around behind her and seized her.

Catherine flailed in his powerful grip, before she felt a stinging pain in her neck. A needle dumped its contents into her blood stream, its effects would take a minute or so, and Catherine struggled more and more weakly. The men began laughing, and she could make out conversation, although her vision was beginning to swim out of focus.

“Hey Pauli, you think we can have a bit of fun with the doll before we take the kidney?”

“Hmm,” the other man said, eyeing the almost limp girl now, “I’m sure she has some hidden treasure under that skirt.”

Catherine’s eyes sealed, and blackness overwhelmed her, slipping her into a cold sleep. But not before she could hear one last, loud, sound.

___________________________________________________________

Oliver fired twice.

The first man’s shirt went from white, to a growing, sickly scarlet circle. That would be the last memory he would see. His eyes went empty, and he hit the floor soundlessly.

The detective’s second round blew cleanly through the man holding Catherine’s kneecap, dropping him in a writhing, squealing agony. Davis swung his aim towards the last man, his green eyes fixing the iron sights of his firearm.

“Life in prison, or paraplegic. Your choice.” Oliver said, his weapon unmoving.

“You little ****!” the man screamed, lunging bodily at him.

Oliver sidestepped, simultaneously holstering his pistol, and with the same hand planted his knuckles squarely on the criminals jaw. The man reeled, hitting the ground spread-eagled on his back. Before he could react, Davis’s weight slammed down onto his back, pinning both his arms in a painful lock. Golden handcuffs flashed from Oliver’s overcoat as they snapped into place.

What the detective hadn’t seen was the man with the torn kneecap had crawled to a sitting position, a closed phone in one bloody hand.

“You lose, cop.” The man said flatly. A car had pulled up, and a small host of mean looking men appeared, brandishing knives and other weapons. The situation was now completely beyond the detective’s control now, and Oliver made for his gun sharply. He would never draw it.

The first thug swung a crowbar, clipping Davis just above the eyebrow. Oliver felt an intense, racking hurt as it impacted. He knew he wouldn’t be able to save himself or the woman now, for it would take something short of a miracle…

 

"We'll keep you. At least for now..."

Like a dog, he makes it sound like a dog.
Mort didn't scowl and didn't make any emotionally connection to this statement. Instead he let his eyes wonder around the room. He shifted his feet in and out. A nervous tick most supposed. He began to scratch at his wound again. And in this kind of silence it was probably the most horrible sound to hear. Scritch, scritch, scritch, the wound sounded like.

It was the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard, but this was sorta gross. Since you could assume this sound only belonged to such a wound. And only to flesh. Mort stared at Nathan for a while, but he kept his distance. Mort felt he should say something, but what. His cover was blown for the most part. Or maybe it was that he was getting tired that his mind was starting to work. That he was to tired to even play the game right.

He scuffed his foot on the floor.

"Nathan..." Mort didn't know how to begin, "I'm sorry if I'm an inconvenience to your friends. Just give me some money, some food, and maybe a knife. And I'll leave. You don't have to keep me around to ease your morals. And I'm most definitely not a dog you can keep."

Mort took a moment and stared at the ground. Almost struggling with saying the next few things.

"I have forced some bad people to do bad things, and they end up dead," Mort said, "I know I may play the game. But I am a hunter. Don't forget I'm a hunter."

 

Akinlabi's mind was racing ahead of his quick steps. The group of thugs he was leading was very close to their destination now, and by then, also to the truth. There is no stash of diamonds. When the African and Wolf scoured the ship for contraband, Akinlabi was disappointed. Star Wolf had been doing good business on this last colony, and his ship, The Baroness, was almost empty of anything of value. A small stack of not-very-exotic drugs, and two crates of medical supplies that could fetch a good price on the more primitive colonies. Nothing smugglers in the rank of Rico Grieger would be interested in.

Then there was the small batch of diamonds Akinlabi was carrying on his person for a while. Why am I still keeping them? He wondered, but quickly shook the thought from his head, instead focusing on the predicament he was in. In less than two minutes, they would reach the aerospace docks. A lie would be unveiled, and unpleasantness will follow. How reckless, Akinlabi criticized himself, storming into a bear's den unprepared.

"Piece of sh*t!" Came Rico's cry from behind. The big man smacked his own bare neck loudly, cursing. "Damn rock-flies! Bit me like a Haze injection!" He inspected his own hand, then, unsatisfied how he failed to crush the biting insect, cursed profoundly. He then turned his head to Akinlabi, who was already a few paces farther, and yelled at him. "Hey, Sierra! Where's the bloody ship?" He quickly closed the distance to the man, then continued, in a lower voice. "Curfew hour is closing on us, you better get us to the diamonds soon." After a moment, he added, "and your extra supplies, or else..." He was obviously not satisfied.

"Soon," Akinlabi replied, "soon."

They kept going.

 

"Spectre, we got any food in here?" Nathan asked. Specter was frowning under her stealth armor. She wasn't a hostess.

“If you can find anything it’s all yours. Now keep quiet, I'm trying to track all this data, it looks like another tracking MEM has just been activated. Only one left now.”

***

Wolf carefully levelled the MEM gun and aimed for Rico's neck. It wasn't hard to aim for, he had a very wide neck. He began to squeeze the trigger, and then fearful of being discovered, eased up a bit.

If Rico and his men discovered him...well, they would give him a good chase. He might have been able to outrun at least one of them in a dead sprint. Poor Akinlabi might have been caught though. Couldn't leave him behind, after all he was willing to do for Earth. Couldn't back out of the mission either. 'Screw it', Wolf thought. He re-aimed the weapon and fired. The weapon made no noise and had little recoil. At first Wolf had no idea if it hit the mark or not before Rico howled and smacked at his neck.

"Specter this is Wolf, Rico has been tagged. Over and out."

Some time after Wolf could hear the thud of boot heels on the Cerean deck and a hoarse scream.

"You there, you are in violation of curfew. Return to your homes or face voluntary detainment!" A Cerean guard shouted into a voice amplifier. Wolf tensed. It might have been just the kind of distraction Wolf and Akinlabi needed to weasel out of their unspeakable deal. But if they made the wrong move they could have ended up in a Cerean jail.

"Akinlabi!" Wolf yelled.

"Let's get the hell outta here!"

 

Shouting. A fight. I shook my head, 'Won't this rock let me rest?' I tried to shut out the noise, but when I heard two gunshots my conscience and curiosity overpowered me. I drew my gun, 'Alright Carter, but you gotta promise yourself. No more Morts.' I jogged down the twisting alleyways half hoping I would miss the ruckus, and be allowed to rest. No such luck. It took me a few seconds to survey the violent scene.

One man was prone on the ground, a pool of blood bearing testament to his demise. Another prostrate figure was a young girl, roughly my age, thankfully her shallow breathing signified life. Two more men were lying down, one handcuffed and spitting obscenities, the other cradling his tattered knee. The last man on the ground was sporting a bloodied forehead, and was hemmed in by a ring of crudely armed thugs. A couple of them had guns. I looked at my own armament; not enough. I had to act quick.

I ducked back around the corner, and scrounged around in my satchel for the pieces of my assault rifle. I clipped the butt to the chamber and took a second to glance back around the corner. The unsavoury men were now lifting the lithe girl, and the tall man, and dragging them towards their van. '****.' I redoubled my speed, and in my haste the clip of ammunition originally intended for the gun slipped to the pavement with a crack. 'Buggernuggets.'

"The **** was that?" A gruff voice called.

I slowly got to my feet, cringing as my clothes scraped against the wall. Every noise now seemed hellishly loud. I hoisted my complete assault rifle, and nervously wrapped my fingers along the barrel as the villains clomping footsteps drew nearer. 'Wait for it,' I stayed my hand, 'wait for it,' I could hear the mans ragged breaths, 'wait for it,' he cam into view so he was now standing next to me, 'NOW!'

Bellowing a challanged I slammed the butt off my gun into his stomach, sending him reeling backwards clumsily grasping for the vicious knife tucked in his belt. His pistol had fallen to the ground. Not giving a chance for him or my morals to recover I rounded my gun... and pulled the trigger. A short burst of bullets ripped through his chest cavity violently revealing his fleshy guts. 'I had killed him,' I thought horrified to myself. I had always known that this job would mean me killing or being killed, but I had always promised the first time I killed someone it would be something grand. It would be an unquestionably evil villain who had eluded capture for months or years, who through only my daring and bravery had finally been bought to justice via my gun. Something grand. And I knew there was nothing spectacular about the pitiful creature now squirming on the ground, gasping his last.

Fighting down my disgust for the time being I aimed my gun at the rest of the stunned men. Three of them were occupied with carrying their victims, and were unable to draw their guns before I had them covered.The one man who's hands were free looked as though he was going to make a grab for his gun, but the warning shot I fired at his feet deterred him.

"Drop the pretty lass, and the other guy" *Thud* Thud* I winced, "Lightly next time please. Now drop your weapons."

A few hesitated, still judging whether or not they could be quick enough to make a move on me, but I fired again to jolt their common sense. The mismatched assortment off death dealers dropped. I jerked my head, "Hop it."

One made a move to grab his incapicitated comrade, but I clucked my tongue, "Tut tut tut, without them. Or your car. Get."

With many an angry threat the criminals scurried away. I waited for a minute to make sure they didn't double back, before placing my gun on the ground and brushing the hair out of the unconscious girls face. My heart skipped a beat, as it did when I laid my eyes on all pretty woman. Her pale face was peaceful, almost doll like, minus the creepiness. I shook her lightly, but she refused to come to.

"hey buddy," the handcuffed man adressed me.

I glanced at him, "What happened to this girl? What did you do to her? What were you going to do? Where were you taking her?"

"If I answer your questions buddy will you let me go?"

"Sure."

"We're uh... *Ahem* me and my colleagues are in the... how you say, 'field of the aquisition of organs via necessary means.' "

I scowled, "Organ thieves."

"Such harsh words! There are people who need a heart more than this rich whore."

"My other questions."

"Oh yes... Dan gave her a shot of Sleeping Beauty. She should be right as rain in a few hours. As for where we were going-"

"Don't tell him nothing!" The injured man shrieked.

I rounded on him, and cuffed him on the head, rendering him unconscious. I turned back to the first guy, "You were saying?"

"A warehouse by the docks... Erm... number 12 I think..."

"Thank you."

"Can I go now?"

"Not a chance in hell mate."

He swore, and struggled against his restraints. The man the organ thieves had accosted was drifting in and out of consciousness. I left him for the time being, and slung the young girl over my shoulder. A two minute walk lead me back to Spectres lair.

"Your gunna hate me for this Spectre but..." I placed the woman on the conference table, "I found this pretty little thing in the streets. Bunch of organ thieves jumped her. Ermm, your gunna hate me even more but uh, theres another guy who I'm about to bring in. Won't be a moment."

I laughed and looked at Nathan and Mort, "I can't wait to see Trins face when she returns to see a crowded room full of ****ups that i've gathered... hehehe.... my own little army."

I returned to the location off the fray, and shook the man slightly. "Hey! Hey man... Can you hear me? Your safe now. Their gone. Whats your name?" His wallet fell from his pocket, and I scooped it up, and returned it, but not before having a peek. He was a detective.

"Erm officer? Are you in there?"

 

Nathan didn't know what to do. Mort was willing to go on his own, assuring Nathan that he'd be safe, but this place has too much unexpected evil. Luckily, Spectre interrupted and gave Nathan a necessary distraction.

“If you can find anything it’s all yours.”

Nathan turned to Spectre, then back to Mort.

"I'll um, go find some food."

He went off searching when the sound of a door being kicked open behind him brought him to full alert. Instantly, Nathan pulled out his new gun aiming it at the door at the two figures. Carter was the first and an unknown girl was slung over his back.

"Your gunna hate me for this Spectre but... I found this pretty little thing in the streets."

"What? Who...where? Carter, you didn't actually go to the brothel and bring someone back, did you?"

"Bunch of organ thieves jumped her. Ermm, your gunna hate me even more but uh, theres another guy who I'm about to bring in. Won't be a moment."

"What? I thought organ thieves target people on their own, not couples."

Carter quickly left. Nathan turned to Spectre expecting her to be pissed.

 

Pappy's mission was top secret, so Dog chose to leave his UEAF armor in the strongbox. It wouldn't be right to wear it anyway. His mining gear would have to serve in it's place. The "ladies" rode along with Dog's other belongings in his duffle bag; an M-20 Retaliator and a PX-45 Ally would draw unwanted attention. Dog decided, at the last minute, to bring his Mark IV mining laser along. He secured the power source to his back and hefted the laser's bulk onto his right shoulder. There was no need to conceal it; no one would be suspicious of a miner and his tools. "Alright, old man, let's go get yer kids."

The pair reached their destination in about twenty minutes. The alley near Hun Tavern was as they'd left it. There was no sign of Wolf or the others. "Okay, what now?"

 

At first he thought he might have already been dead. Slowly, bits of memory, along with his sense of hearing returned, as if emerging from underwater. He felt himself being moved back and forth. Someone was shaking him.

"-an you hear me? Your safe now. Their gone. Whats your name?"

Oliver's clouded sight adjusted to the figure of a thin, lean man standing near him. He was starkly good-looking, and a set of light blue eyes stared back at Davis.

"Erm officer? Are you in there?" the man said.

Oliver wiped the small trickle of blood from his face. He took a quick scan of his surroundings, attempting to gather some coherence of the situation at a glance. The man who he had shot in the knee was out cold, and there was no sign of the group of thugs that had attacked him. Had this person who was standing over him actually taken them all out? , he thought.

"My... name is Oliver. Thank you, for the help. I thought I could take care of this, wasn't expecting the reinforcements." he said, sitting upright.

Oliver noticed the young woman he had originally intended to rescue had disappeared, to where, he had not the slightest hint, but he had hoped the organ thieves had not snagged their victory after all.

He looked back at the man. Dispatching a group of armed men was no easy feat, so Davis had already assumed this man was no civilian. A mercenary? No, perhaps an assassin? A flood of inquiries filled his head. There was a lot of things Oliver could figure out with little knowledge to start with, that was after all, how the detective academy had trained him.

Why had he bothered to save him? Davis couldn't reason, but what he did know was that, this man had showed up almost too conveniently, and with a weapon. So he had either come from a very close location or this alleyway was part of his route. He had no idea of his intentions, however Davis had the comfort of knowing they were not bad.

"I appreciate you going out of your way to save me, believe me, i'm grateful. But there was a girl here. Have you seen her? And if I may politely point out, who are you?"

 

"I appreciate you going out of your way to save me, believe me, i'm grateful. But there was a girl here. Have you seen her? And if I may politely point out, who are you?"

"Im Carter. I'm a scout for the Athena, try not to ask too many questions, its uh... less complicated for both of us. I spoke to a Officer Macurdy recently, maybe you know him? As for the girl, that sweet young thing is safe. Uh, do you need her? They knocked her out cold, but I can return her to a police station in a few hours."

I Helped him too his feet and gestured vaguely around, "I'm sorry most of them got away, but you have two bodies to search for clues. Two suspects to cross interrorgate, their van, as well as a name, one of them was called Dan, and this one," I kicked the cuffed man who groaned, "let slip that they operate out of warehouse 12 on the docks." I grinned at Oliver, "I have a feeling that you'll catch those guys quick smart."

I took a few steps backwards, "But uh, if your feeling alright... I'd best be off. Fleet business you know. Hush hush. I'll bring the girl to Macurdy's station when she comes to."

 

(OOC: This is the first of two posts. I'll conclude this a little later, so you don't need to react to this, yet)

The hour drew late. Akinlabi's instincts were a foreboding rage at his gut. Something bad was about to happen, he could feel it. His body had grown attuned to foreseeing when something wrong was close. Being under slavery for most of one's life could teach you that.

Back on the Akaba, the slave ship, he always knew when the slavers were coming to take him for another day of arduous work, even if that time changed every day. He could always tell when a fellow worker was about to be punished, even if there was nothing he could do to prevent that. He always knew when military or vigilante vessels were about to engage the slavers in battle, even while his cell did not allow watching the exterior space. He knew whenever such things were bound to happen. Akinlabi could never explain it, but something about the world would suddenly change. Men would turn quiet. Muscle would go stiff. Moods would grow grim. Unexplained, something would change; then, misfortune would fall.

The hour drew late, and the street suddenly turned quiet. An unnatural silence. Akinlabi watched the intesecting alleys, the head of the street they were walking, and the turn ahead; all turned empty.

"Something is wrong," he muttered quietly. In retrospect, he had no obligation to warn Rico Grieger of forthcoming danger. Still, after years where he could do nothing for those he cared for, the African turned into the sort of person who was always careful for those around him; if he could at least.

"What the heck are you talking--" but Rico never completed his bad-tempered reply. An amplified voice suddenly deafened the street, its owner yet unseen. Grieger shot a suspecting glance at Akinlabi, then hissed at his men to scram. The world drowned in a stressing din; alarms and shouted orders. Quicker than his body seemed to allow, Rico then grabbed Akinlabi by the wrist. "Take me to the cargo. Now!" The request was put in such a tone one could not deny it.

The two raced toward the street's bend.

 

Dog began to load some of his old war gear into a duffle bag, the kind of stuff they both used to tote around the galaxy back when they were in the fleet together. The M-20 was Commonwealth standard but the PX-45 looked almost foreign. Pappy knew that Dog meant business, he broke out a huge mining laser, the kind that had a backpack power supply and eat up rocks by the metric ton. Standard mining gear, for the big boys at least, Pappy always wondered what it would be like to mow down a squad of bad guys with one.

"Alright old man, let's go get yer kids." Dog said.

Pappy chuckled.

"Does that mean you're finally done putting on your makeup? Hey easy buddy, relax, just messing with you. Yeah, let's go get 'em."

***

The pair made their way back to the Hun Tavern bar, the place looked even crappier than normal, there were still small bits of broken glass in the street and pieces of wrecked furniture out in front. There was a large group of mercenary looking types at the front, pissed off looking as usual and with the almost archetypal shady shifty eyes. It was like they were just waiting for a chance to stab somebody in the back.

"Well, now what?"

"Team, this is Pappy, I'll need coordinates to the contact's...area. Over."

 

Cerean guards were on their tails. Some heartbeats behind them, beyond the turn. Hot in pursuit.

They reached another intersection. Left or right.

"Which way?" Rico shouted, breathing hard. He threw a glance behind him, but the pursuers were still not in sight. If they could manage to pick a direction before the guards were to see them, their followers might just be thrown in the wrong direction. If only they were quick enough to react.

But Akinlabi hesitated. His one eye was fixing Rico's face in an unwavering gaze. For a long instant, he didn't speak. Then he turned his head to the front of the alley, where the first of the Cerean guards emerged, merely ten yards away.

"Don't you make a friggin' move," the man shouted, raising a black shotgun. It was equipped with a low-tech laser pointer for close-quarters aim guidance. The red dot was pointing at the black man's chest, dead center. "You two are in a strict violation of a curfew," steps of more troops reinforcing him were clearly audible, "you two are under--"

Rico eyed Akinlabi in amazement when the African charged the guard. Men could be fast, but trying to cover ten yards -- almost ten strides -- before the opposite would squeeze a trigger, was quite impossible. The guard fired on Akinlabi's second step. He was unprepared, and failed to focus clearly on his target. Still, he did not miss.

The shotgun, a Custod-Bellum PM Mark II, or Peacemaker as it was more commonly known, was not a weapon unknown to Akinlabi. In fact, he had encountered the weapon more than a few times, and had been administered its punishing power more than once. The PM-2 was the favorite firearm of enslavers in mining excavation, and probably any armed force that preferred subduing its targets rather than killing them. Albeit packing a larger caliber than typical shotguns, the Peacemaker did not fire any hard-alloy slugs, or even metallic clusters. It was a shotgun meant to slow, or daze or stun. Hence, the Peacemaker fired what was known to be bean-bag rounds; flexible, yet packing enough punch to take an ox out cold. Aimed at a man's torso, it would knock the wind out of him for a good minute. Aimed at his head, it would probably cause a concussion.

The flexible round was aimed at Akinlabi's torso before he lunged. His body bent as he was, charging forward, the bean-bag projectile hit his face instead. It struck with a definite smack, and the large man dropped crashing into the alley's ground. He no longer moved.

The Cerean immediately reloaded with a menacing pump action, then lifted his gaze toward the short alley's end. The other man was no longer there. An instant, another three guards were backing the first.

"Quick," he wasn't slow in taking control over the situation, "this one's out cold." He gestured with his gun at the figure prone on the ground, moving quickly toward the intersection. "His partner fled, left or right, I couldn't tell." He signaled another man to follow him. "You two take the other side. Sweep and track. And tell dispatch to come and pick that one up." He glanced toward the immobile black man lying, then vanished beyond the bend. A moment later, his team-mates were also gone. The loud noise of their curfew sirens and amplified voices was carried over the streets for long moments, even after they moved away.

A minute later Akinlabi rised from the ground. He touched the left side of his face, wondering if the projectile left a dent on the dead side of his head, decided he did not care, and quickly moved toward the shadows of the other side of the alley.

 

"Team, this is Pappy, I'll need coordinates to the contact's...area. Over."

Nathan turned to a small hologram in the room with information, including the basic location coordinates.

"Sir, Nathan here. I'm out of prison and back at base. I'm sending the coordinates now."

Nathan pressed a few buttons and waited for a moment before hearing a satisfying beep suggesting that Pappy had received the information.

"Pappy, you should have all necessary information now. Over."

Nathan turned to the door where the unknown girl lay still. Nathan checked her pulse to confirm she was alive. Thanks to a very distant relative who was a medic in the UEAF for many years, Nathan had received a little bit of extra medical training, which, in a situation like this, was extremely helpful. Nathan took out a small needle and pricked the girl's finger receiving a drop of blood. He pulled out his medical pad, a small machine ad thin as a piece of paper and as long as a piece of chocolate, easy to keep. While it didn't help in combat situations, it was useful in situations like this where information was the key. The sample was sucked into the machine and after a few seconds the results popped up.

Her blood was filled with the drugs. Whoever had attacked the poor girl must've wanted her out cold. They had injected a small liquid into her neck. Usually it was ineffective, leaving the victim out for one hour maximum, commonly used in short procedures in hospitals. In this case however, there was enough to keep the girl out for at least five hours. Whoever got her, either didn't know or didn't care. Fortunately, an overdose of this wasn't too serious, but there were some side effects. When she woke up, she'd be dazed and unable to do much for a couple of days.

Nathan didn't know where Pappy was, but he'd be back soon, and probably wouldn't like the idea of civilians in the base. However, this place wasn't safe for unarmed men, definitely not for an unarmed girl suffering from side effects of a drug. While nobody would be happy, she'd have to either stay here for a couple of days or be escorted home by someone. Nathan turned around to the shadowy woman.

"Spectre, how much of a risk is there of a civilian being here. I mean, is there any classified information that would be at high risk if we kept the girl just in this room?"

Waiting for an answer, Nathan turned back to the girl. She was breathing heavily, her heart beating rapidly. That wasn't a usual symptom for this. He took another sample quickly discovering the blood had been mixed with something else. Whoever had attacked her didn't want her to wake up... The drugs had mixed with her blood and put a fast acting virus in. If he didn't hurry it could be fatal.

"Spectre, scratch the last question. You got any medical equipment in here? This girl's in trouble!"

 

"Im Carter. I'm a scout for the Athena, try not to ask too many questions, its uh... less complicated for both of us. I spoke to a Officer MaCurdy recently, maybe you know him? As for the girl, that sweet young thing is safe. Uh, do you need her? They knocked her out cold, but I can return her to a police station in a few hours." the man said, holding out a hand to help Davis stand. The detective nodded, he wouldn't prod him for questions this time, besides, he owed him one.

Carter. The name didn't ring a bell, but suddenly it made sense. Like a puzzle shifting and sliding its pieces into perfect alignment.

Oliver glimpsed a bullet hole in the floor, just like at The Hun Tavern, this man had fired a warning shot, which explained why there weren't multiple thug corpses around, he had scared them away, same method as the bar fight. He was also the man who had bailed out two other men that the detective had barely missed at the jail, Officer MaCurdy had told him as much.

Oliver smirked at the irony, he had been on the tails of Carter and his crew this entire time, and in the end it was him who would keep him from being killed by organ thieves.

Carter spoke up again, "I'm sorry most of them got away, but you have two bodies to search for clues. Two suspects to cross interrogate, their van, as well as a name, one of them was called Dan, and this one," he said, delivering a small kick to the side of the man who Oliver had handcuffed, he made a noise of pain.

"Let slip that they operate out of warehouse 12 on the docks." Carter said, flashing a smile, "I have a feeling that you'll catch those guys quick smart."

Oliver Davis looked at the man piercingly with his green eyes, impressed. Carter had came in and wrapped up his case almost flawlessly, might as well have made his entrance with confetti and lightly dressed girls for the ease at which he'd accomplished what had taken Davis's best efforts. Oliver decided in his head, he already liked Carter.

"But uh, if your feeling alright... I'd best be off. Fleet business you know. Hush hush. I'll bring the girl to Macurdy's station when she comes to." Carter said.

Oliver replied, "I'm fine, nothing a bit of medi-gel can't fix. Although, i'll have to disagree with you on that note Carter. I don't know whatever 'Fleet' business might be happening here, but the Cerean districts are still under my area of investigation. I have some power here, I intend to relay the location of the docks to Ceres Police Force HQ and have them storm the docks at my order. I'll deal with that later."

Oliver thought for moment, he was already this far, why not take a shot and see how deep the rabbit hole goes.

"I want to help, Carter. I'm coming with you. No objections."

 

"Sir, Nathan here. I'm out of prison and back at base. I'm sending the coordinates now---you should have all necessary information now. Over."

“Yeah, I got it kid, thanks. And stop calling me sir, I'm a---aw forget it, tell Specter I’m on my way.”

Specter shook her head.

"Actually, I have something for you and you stalwart companion to do. Since you’re already at the Hun Tavern I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind going back in.”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“We don’t know how long it will be before any of the members of Silas' team try to contact him, and we don’t know where he is, but we do know that he is a regular there. It wouldn’t hurt just to check. Remember, he's the man that we want and we know that he'll be maing a move to try and get close to the Athena soon.”

“Fine, I’ll check it out, over.” Pappy said and looked at Dog.

“I guess you heard, we’re headed back for the gin joint. I promise not to grab any bartenders this time. Harr. Keep your eyes open too, I don‘t like the looks of these patrons, they look about as friendly as a snapping turtle.”

***

"Specter, how much of a risk is there of a civilian being here. I mean, is there any classified information that would be at high risk if we kept the girl just in this room?"Nathan said as he looked after the wounded stray that David brought in.

Specter frowned. If she had it her way she would have been dumped right back in whatever alley the flyboy found her in. Heroics was such adolescent nonsense.

“Any classified information? Let me put it to you like this, if that girl even blinks in the wrong direction I’ll pop out both of her eyes. There’s several years worth of accumulated information here from several deep cover agents and the fate of at least two planets and millions of lives are at stake. In order to keep some random stray from compromising my mission I’m willing to kill her and ten people that look like her, am I understood?”

"Specter, scratch the last question. You got any medical equipment in here? This girl's in trouble!"

Specter sighed and reached for a CRK*.

"These boots will be the death of me, remind me never to work with fleet ever again." She muttered.

***

Wolf watch horrified as one of the Cerean guards blasted him with the Peacemaker. As he hoped, they must have been sticking to non-lethals because Wolf didn’t see any blood. A Peacemaker at point blank and in Cerean gravity would have made a huge red mist. He squatted in a dark section of an alley and waited, trying to think of what to do next. To his surprise the guard that shot him as well as his team left to look for Rico and his goons.

Wolf ran up to Akinlabi as he struggled to get back up.

“Whoa, easy buddy, you alright? You got a pretty nasty bump on the Coconut there. Next time, please don’t charge at a man holding a shotgun, you were lucky he was just bean-bagging you this time.”

Wolf picked up one of Akinlabi’s arms and draped it over his shoulder as he lead him along.

“Come on pal, we’ll get you back at the safe house and all cleaned up. I tagged Rico, that will make Specter shut up for a bit.”


*CRK: Combat Ready Kit

 

"I want to help, Carter. I'm coming with you. No objections."

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, "I'm sorry detective, but really... My superiors... Hohoho, Trin... **** if you met these people you'd understand, Im gunna be in the **** as it is for rescuing that girl. If I bought you? Well..."

He remained where he was, and I grinned, "Alright, I can tell your a decent earnest guy. How bout this. I help you with this raid on the organ thieves, then, if you prove yourself, I'll let my superiors know, and you might be allowed to tag along... At least for a while."

I cocked my rifle, "Call your men, the longer we wait, the more likely these guys will disappear, what do you say?"

 

Oliver raised an eyebrow, Carter seemed a bit distressed, "I'm sorry detective, but really... My superiors... Hohoho, Trin... **** if you met these people you'd understand, Im gunna be in the **** as it is for rescuing that girl. If I bought you? Well..."

Davis said nothing, instead trying to understand the situation at hand. Carter started up again, with his trademark grin,

"Alright, I can tell your a decent earnest guy. How bout this. I help you with this raid on the organ thieves, then, if you prove yourself, I'll let my superiors know, and you might be allowed to tag along... At least for a while." he said, racking the slide of the rifle he continued,

"Call your men, the longer we wait, the more likely these guys will disappear, what do you say?"

Oliver considered the fleet mans proposal. He was right, precious time was being wasted, by now the thugs Carter had intimidated into fleeing have returned to their boss's and snitched out as much as they could. They'd be prepared. But so would Davis.

"I've never heard of a CPF-Navy joint operation, but this could possibly be one of the biggest criminal busts Ceres has had in a long time. It'll be dangerous, but I'm sure you already know what that's like," Oliver said, giving Carter a sly wink. Davis began acting quickly, if they were going to stop the organ thief cell at the source, they'd need backup, and guns. Big ones.

Oliver turned on his PDD, his wrist suddenly becoming a source of light. Numbers and signals raced across the screen, and he clicked on an earpiece. A female's voice responded timely.

"Yes Detective?"
"I want two teams ready for my command, code Tyrant. Multiple hostiles, chance of hostages."
"Location?"
"The docks, Warehouse 12. No one goes until I specifically say so, I have a partner with me, and we'll need the element of surprise."
"Working on it now, sir."
"Good." Oliver said, cutting off the channel.

He turned to Carter, his face serious, "We'd better get moving." Oliver said, already walking in the direction of his car.