Pax

"Convenient," Oliver said warily, "This raid is operating under the authority of the CPF, and you don't look familiar. Who do you work for?"

Mel thought for a moment. He was pretty sure this guy was good, but the team had given him their trust and he wasn't sure what to say. If he told this guy the truth, he could be letting the team down, but if he didn't, he'd be ripped apart like the rest of the scum on the floor. He liked the team, he knew that. If he didn't he wouldn't have come here to save their mate. But then, was that really why he was here? Or was it for revenge?

"OK, I can't say much, but I'm here on a rescue mission involving a soldier from the UEAF. Can't give you a name or any more information, but it's believed he may be being held here by these assholes."

 

"OK," the man began, "I can't say much, but I'm here on a rescue mission involving a soldier from the UEAF. Can't give you a name or any more information, but it's believed he may be being held here by these assholes."

UEAF? That was the same as Carter. He had mentioned others before, this man must be one of them. They'd come looking for him, thinking he'd been abducted, when in fact he'd been cooperating with the CPF to shut down the crime ring. Odd situation they were in, notwithstanding, this man was on Carter's team, and that made him an ally.

"We've hit a bit of a misunderstanding. Your UEAF soldier is not in the hands of the organ thieves, he's working with me to shut them down, even as we speak. You fleet have been valuable colleagues, so allow me to be of service." Oliver said, racking the slide of the rifle reassuringly.

 

"We've hit a bit of a misunderstanding. Your UEAF soldier is not in the hands of the organ thieves, he's working with me to shut them down, even as we speak. You fleet have been valuable colleagues, so allow me to be of service."

Mel thought for a moment. Must've been their guy.

"Great. Now, I know you're in charge here, but I was hoping you could help me with something else. There's some information, documents and stuff, that I need to get from the top floor of this warehouse. UEAF business. It's extremely important to the mission. If you could help me up there, I'd really appreciate it..."

Before the detective could answer, a small object flew through small air vent. It landed on the ground on the other side of the room. Mel instantly knew what it was from his days of UEAF, anybody would. He tackled the detective outside into a hallway where a firefight was in process between some thieves and a few CPF men and women. The grenade exploded behind them, ripping apart the bodies left in the room and attracting the attention of the thieves. Mel pulled his gun up and shot down the thieves, giving the others time to escape. He rolled off of the detective with a massive grin. He hadn't had this much action for years... Still grinning he held out his old, dusty hand to the detective.

"Name's Mel, good to meet ya."

 

"Name's Mel, good to meet ya."

Oliver took his hand, confidently, but still shocked at the speed at which everything had happened. He had only heard the small metallic pink of an object landing, and then he had suddenly powered into him, evading an explosion that wiped out the furniture and bodies of the deceased thieves. Then Mel made spatter art as he punched rounds into another group that had been attracted by the blast, most fled.

Mel's offer stood, and Oliver couldn't see himself turning down a mission that had been deemed extremely important.

"Alright. I'll help, besides, I owe the UEAF one," said Oliver, patting the dust off his overcoat.

"We'll need to access one of the stairways to get to the top floor, any elevators will definitely have sentries guarding, even though we'll be somewhat slower on foot."

Oliver lowered himself and grabbed the M-22, then made his way down the hall, calling out to Mel when it was clear.

 

"We'll need to access one of the stairways to get to the top floor, any elevators will definitely have sentries guarding, even though we'll be somewhat slower on foot."

Perfect. This was his opportunity...

"Fine by me, just try keeping this a secret. Nobody can know."

The detective picked up an M-22 and checked the hallway was clear. When they were sure, the two men made their way to the first set of stairs. Mel suddenly felt something shoot through his brain.

He looked around. The detective was gone, as were the dead bodies and broken furniture. Instead, people were walking calmly through the hallway some with bloodied tools. The doors were suddenly shut and Mel could hear screams coming from some of the rooms. He tried to cry out, call for help to stop the screams behind the doors, but everyone walked past, ignoring him. He continued down the hallway to hear another scream. Not a scream of pain, but of fear. It was too familiar... It was Spectre. Even behind the distorted voice, Mel could tell it was Spectre. He leaned up against the door to find he could see through it. Two surgeons stood around Spectre, about to begin their operation. They would have begun by now, but they needed to find how to destroy the distorter first. For now, Spectre was just a black bubble.

"Spectre! NO!"

Suddenly, Spectre and the surgeons disappeared, as did everyone around Mel. Instead, the detective reappeared and the bodies and furniture littered the ground. The detective looked puzzled and Mel realised he had yelled that out loud.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't know what just happened..."

 

"Carter!"

Nathan's voice tore me out of my reverie like the bullet I shot at him almost tore through his neck. I managed to jerk the gun away at the last second.

"Sorry Nathan..." I muttered.

Nathan seemed to want an explanation for the bullet riddled corpses.

"I'm angry Nathan... ****ing angry... look at this," I weakly waved the photo of the dead girl in front of him, "She's in the next room... whats left of her anyway. I thought I was angry at them," I gestured grimly at the bodies, then smiled, "But really, I'm angry at myself. And the UEAF. I mean, whilst they- we are chasing our useless war with the Martians PEOPLE, real PEOPLE are suffering!"

I stomped my foot, trying to release the rage that was building up, "I mean think about it! Why are we fighting the Martians? Because we're told too! Why are they fighting us? Because their told too! What does it accomplish? JACK****! And while we're occupied with our pathetic feud, people die! We could be here, on this planet, cracking down on these scum! We could be making an actual difference! But we're just flying around taking potshots at people who were wimply unlucky enough, to be wearing a different coloured shirt! Why the hell would I want to be a part of the goddamned UEAF when I can be here, with the police helping people?"

 

A bullet flew past Nathan's neck, nearly hitting him. Nathan thought to himself, a fool. He had startled somebody with a gun in some sort of battle. He looked to Carter, wondering what was going on.

"I'm angry Nathan... ****ing angry... look at this,"

Carter pulled out a small photo. A nice looking woman was smiling at the camera, an older man and woman, likely her parents sat with her. In front of them, a younger girl was pushing herself into the picture while a young boy put bunny ears up behind her.

"She's in the next room... whats left of her anyway."

Nathan peered into the next room to find the same woman, lying on the table in the middle of surgery, more bodies lay around the table. He was fighting the urge to vomit now, partly from the sick stench of the place, mostly from the hatred he felt for these assholes.

Carter continued on in a fit of rage, talking about how angry he was, how pointless the war with the Martians was. When he was done, Nathan tried to calm him down and figure out what was going on.

"Carter, I know you're angry, I am too, but to make sure this doesn't happen to anyone else, we need to take action, I need you to tell me what's happening..."

 

Both of the men had made it up the first flight of stairs. Their shoes ringing against the metal grilled steps. Suddenly, Mel had stopped advancing, his eyes picturing something else entirely. What it was, the detective wouldn't know, but he descended to see if he was okay.

"Spectre! NO!" Mel screamed.

Oliver jumped back, stunned at the outburst. Spectre? He had little clue if that was a thing or a person, but Mel's faced revealed terrible worry. He composed himself, then looked at the detective.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't know what just happened..."
"Are you okay?.."

Oliver put a hand on Mel's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, I'll lead until we get to the top floor. Stay sharp."

The detective then started back up, at a good pace. They'd be there soon, but Mel would have to show him to where the files are once they got there.

 

"Don't worry about it, I'll lead until we get to the top floor. Stay sharp."

"Y-yeah..." Mel slowly followed the detective. He was lucky there was no combat nearby, he would be an easy target. He was beginning to shake. His head was aching, but he continued going, he needed to finish his job.

 

"Carter, I know you're angry, I am too, but to make sure this doesn't happen to anyone else, we need to take action, I need you to tell me what's happening..."

"I KNOW! I know," I sighed, "Look, I'm sorry... Listen up, I'm here with a Detective Oliver Davis who was investigating this organ thief ring. I joined up with him basically because... Well, I was bored. The warehouse is being raided by two teams of special ops coppers, their on the other side of the building going in guns blazing. We infiltrated the back way. I've taken down five of these ****ers, and Oliver's headed up that way. We should link up, things are going well, there couldn't be more then thirty of these bastards in this place," I reloaded, "Alright Nathan, cover my six. Keep it tight, watch your corners, your still under my command."

I began to stride the way Oliver went, but a nearby burst of gunfire invited a detour. I gestured for Nathan to follow, then opened a door which lead to another hallway. Oliver's men were hastily retreating into the hallway at one end, a single officer covering their retreat by firing over their ducked heads as they filed in.

"Disengage go!" A woman ordered.

The man let of one more shot before turning, and succumbing to a hail of bullets. Blood pooled around his body. The rest of the officers ran past me, before taking cover in the room across us. The organ thieves took up postions at the doorway the cops had retreated through and began tearing up the hallway with fire. A police officer poked his head through the opposite doorway and returned fire.

I handed Nathan my assault rifle, and drew my pistol, "Nathan I want suppressive fire on those assholes ASAP," I whistled for the officers attention across from me, "Make way, I'm coming through."

Doubled over, I sprinted the shot dangerous gap across the hallway, and summed up the cops. They were down two men.

"Who's in charge?"

"I am hotshot," It was the woman who I had rather clumsily attempted to hit on earlier. She was now sporting a rather dashing cut on her left cheek.

"What happened? Why are you here? Shouldn't you be kicking ass?"

"They had a turret. Second floor balcony, main room. They knew we were coming. We got seperated from Alpha, lost Bacchus and" she nodded to the hallway, "Taylor too. Can someone give me a clip? I'm out!"

I proffered one of my last clips, "Ammo for your name sweet cheeks."

A male officer sniggered, and the woman frowned, "At a time like- Oh jesus, it's Maggie, give that here you idiot." She snatched it from my grasp.

"Now, me and my boy here can keep these bastards pinned, you check out some rooms, and see if you can get into a flanking position, if you can't double back too us and we'll do things the old fashioned way. Huah?"

"Huah? Your fleet," She smiled dangerously, "Whats fleet doing taking down organ thieves?"

"Something it should have been doing from day one," I replied bitterly, then lightened my tone, "Now if we get this done, I'd very much like to take you out to dinner Maggie."

"Two of my men just di- **** it. Just get your part done hotshot, and I'll consider it."

I saluted, and then moved to the doorway, "Alright Nathan, we're covering these fine folk! Go!"

I opened fire on the organ thieves.

 

"I KNOW! I know," I sighed, "Look, I'm sorry... Listen up, I'm here with a Detective Oliver Davis who was investigating this organ thief ring. I joined up with him basically because... Well, I was bored. The warehouse is being raided by two teams of special ops coppers, their on the other side of the building going in guns blazing. We infiltrated the back way. I've taken down five of these ****ers, and Oliver's headed up that way. We should link up, things are going well, there couldn't be more then thirty of these bastards in this place," said Carter.

A detective and a raid? This was strange timing...

"Alright Nathan, cover my six. Keep it tight, watch your corners, your still under my command."

Command? What? Nathan went with it, as far as he concerned, there was no such thing as command in this type of situation. To him, everyone was equal, they were all at the same risks. Being superior to somebody in ranks isn't going to help you when a bullet smacks you in the head. But Nathan knew Carter, he liked him, so he decided to go ahead and follow orders.

They ran through the warehouse, everything going so fast, until finally Carter told Nathan to help him cover some police after handing him an assualt rifle. Nathan let out a few shots and took this opporunity of not moving to speak to the rest of the team.

"Team, this is Nathan. I don't know where you are, but I'm covering some police. I've found Carter, he's safe, more than that, he's hitting on police. He's told me there's also a detective, Oliver, out there who he's working with. This guy might not be in police clothes, so keep an eye out for him, and don't shoot."

***
"Team, this is Nathan. I don't know where you are, but I'm covering some police. I've found Carter, he's safe, more than that, he's hitting on police."

Looks like Nathan's found his guy, Mel thought to himself. "I hear ya Nathan."

"He's told me there's also a detective, Oliver, out there who he's working with. This guy might not be in police clothes, so keep an eye out for him, and don't shoot."

Mel turned to the detective in silence and moved away so Oliver couldn't hear him. "A detective eh? Haven't seen him yet, I'll let you know if I do..."

He headed back to the detective. "Just a mission status update. Let's keep moving."

 

The boots had been out of contact for too long. Piazzi was a dangerous city to be out and about in at any hour. Specter reached for her PDD and buzzed the team.

“This is Specter, how much longer are you tourists going to be site-seeing? We have work to do you know.”

***

As Pappy and Dog walked into the Hun Tavern they moved out of the way just in time to avoid a pair of large miners storming their way in the middle of what appeared to be a wrestling contest. The crowd was loud and already drunk. Dog didn’t know anyone there but Dog recognized some of them as veterans and regulars. Some others were expatriates and mercenaries, famous or infamous, depending on the way you looked at it.

“You,” one of the attendees said pointing at Pappy. Pappy froze.

“Yes?” Pappy didn’t know if maybe he was one of the men he was clobbering on his way out of the bar last night. Returning so soon might have been a mistake.

“You couldn’t have come at a worse time,” the stranger said.

“Oh?”

“Yeah!”

“Why?”

“Because you missed a drinking contest…and I won,” the man said before making a face and putting a hand to his mouth.

“Excuse me,” he said and ran outside, the sound of his being sick in the front of the establishment could be heard inside, despite the racket the bar mates were proving. Pappy and Dog sighed in relief. Pappy unfisted his hand.

“Let’s see if we can find Major Silas. You’re a local here, I’m sure that you know a few people good for information. Maybe you can do the talking while I take a back seat this time.”

“As long as you promise not to grab any more bartenders,” Dog chided.

“Scout’s honor,” Pappy said and made a customary hand salute.

 

"Just a mission status update. Let's keep moving." Mel said.

Oliver nodded soberly, and tucked his pistol neatly in a holster slung under his armpit. Mel seemed tense and out of place, the recent outbursts weren't helping much. Davis was only concerned about his combat efficiency, and up until this point, Mel hadn't shown any inexperience with a gun.

Oliver composed himself. We have to find this ring leader, he thought, and put a damn end to it. Fast.

They began progressing again, and, in the ambiance, Oliver could make out the unmistakable thump and crack of gunfire. Time was thinning, and Davis came to the grim conclusion that most of the two-team task force were probably face down choking on their own blood by now. Although, they knew the risks. They were doing their job, and buying enough minutes, and perhaps seconds for Mel and he to snuff out the threat.

They were getting close. Oliver could feel it.

 

The two took down some more of the bastards before moving. Nathan rushed up the stairs, while Carter got some contact details from Maggie.
"Carter! Let's move! We gotta find your detective!" Nathan screamed, pulling Carter along.

***

Mel kept moving up the stairs. He was losing his balance, there was something wrong here. The world was warping, his view becoming distorted. Everything stretched, and suddenly... Black. When he opened his eyes again, Oliver had disappeared. A man was coming down the stairs holding a small gun. The man walked right past Mel, not even realising that he was there. There was a sharp pain as Mel looked down to the floor and saw blood. His blood.
He pulled up, shrieking in horror and heard something... It was like he had two screams. Suddenly, four men ran past him holding guns. There was a rattle of fire, and a figure covered in black rushed by, shooting the men.
The shrieks continued, even though Mel and clearly stopped... But they were his shrieks.

Suddenly, it was all over, Mel was standing in the stairway again, Oliver following.

 

His confidence melted away, like a torch held to wax. Urick Kayle received nothing but the frantic calls of his mercenaries, organ thieves and street surgeons, as they were being butchered to a man. These pitiful policemen and their half-assed interlopers were ruining everything. Urick would not stand for it.

Slugging the M-18 "Admonisher" in a two handed grip against his waist, a snarl on his face, he exited his command room. Alone.

The tussled and scattered files on his desk lay openly on his desk, and among them the true prize that Mel was searching for.

* * *

For a fleeting moment, Mel had stopped his pace up the stairway. Then resumed, almost as if banishing the thought from his head. Oliver trailed behind, his legs building lactic acid from the running and killing they had done in what had seemed to be hours. In reality, it had been seventeen minutes.

The final floor. Oliver slipped ahead of Mel and opened it slowly, his eyes probing the hallway beyond.

It was a single walkway, wide and lengthy as well. Leading to a single, vault-like door. Along it, small pillars that connected from floor to roof lined it, and Oliver knew that this was what they had been looking for.

Unfortunately for both Mel and the Detective, a single figure hefting a menacing heavy weapon, clad in plate-armor, was prowling towards them...

 

The figure was undeniably afraid, but he wasn't showing it. You learn to hide your fear after years of cutting people open, Mel thought. He handled the gun at his waist. All his weapons were out of ammo. He couldn't speak for Oliver.
He needed to make the decision.
Mel looked at Oliver.
"I'm sorry, Oliver." Mel whispered. He tackled the detective behind a wall, protecting them both from Kayle. Then, punching him in the mouth, Mel leaped for Oliver's pistol. He loaded it up and shot the detective in the side of his left leg, causing him to scream in pain.
Oliver, still shocked at what had happened, tried to get up to grab Mel, but the pain was too strong for him. He'd be up soon, but be in no state for hand to hand combat, and since Mel had taken the gun, Oliver was no longer a threat.

Mel went back around the wall in an instant, pointing the gun at Kayle.
"What did you do to her?" He demanded.
Kayle smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mel."
"Spectre! You... You tortured her! WHY? Why didn't you take me instead?"
"Oh, but we did. You see, she escaped." Kayle began, "It was you who was unfortunate..."
The hallway went dark and Mel was again hearing shrieks. Kayle continued. "But she couldn't save you. She knew that, and so did we. So she tried the next best thing..."
Mel turned. If there were people running by, Oliver could get a gun, but Mel wasn't going to stop this. He needed to hear what happened.
Kayle kept speaking. "She tried... To blow the place up."

Mel's brain burst with pain. Everything was loud... Too loud. Twice as loud as they should be. Everything went dark, and silence. Then, he took one step back, and fell backwards, off the rail of the stairs, four floors down.

 

Oliver watched the figure approach, and tugged his pistol out it's holster. But before he could raise it to a firing position, he heard Mel.

"I'm sorry, Oliver," he said, and the detective felt himself slammed sidelong, temporarily getting them both out of the ring leaders line of sight.

And, in a moment of horrifying clarity, Mel socked Oliver knuckle first. Oliver landed hard, completely taken aback. Mel lunged for his weapon. Davis knew how to defend himself, as anyone on the Ceres Police Force would, but the man had the drop on him, and wrenched the handgun from his grip. Oliver looked at Mel, piercing him with green eyes, betrayed.

"What are you doing!" the detective cried. Mel put a bullet through his leg in response.

Oliver shrieked, and crawled backwards. His own blood smearing the floor. Mel went through the door, leaving him in agony. Oliver could make out the confrontation between Mel and the ring leader, but barely.

A few moments later Mel crashed through the door, and off the rail that bordered the stairway. The detective saw, stunned, as he fell over and dropped to what he hoped wasn't a gruesome demise below.

 

They were halfway up the stairs when Nathan heard it. He looked to Carter, who by the look on his face, must've heard the crash as well. He heard a scream and then nothing. But he knew the voice...
"Mel! Mel, where are you?!?"

***

In a sickening moment, everything became real again, and Mel realised he was falling to his death. Screaming, he grabbed for anything and found his coat caught on a railing a few floors down. He swung himself under the railing and landed with a thud on the stairs. He was at the bottom now.
"Mel! Mel, where are you?!?" Nathan's voice echoed through the hallways. Mel looked up and saw the young guy standing with another man, shooting two thieves. He began heading to them and then fell to the ground in pain.

He got up. Nathan was no longer there. Instead, he found his hands were black, distorted.
"Shoot to kill! It's a threat to us!" someone yelled. How did he have the distorter on?
Mel didn't have time to think. Another voice cut in.
"Get Spectre! Kill it!"
Spectre? Then it struck him. What was Spectre trying to do? Blow up the warehouse. He ran, bullets flying past him. He was following Spectre's footsteps exactly. In his mind, he was Spectre.
A voice broke through from reality to his mind. Nathan's.
"Mel! Where are you going? MEL!"
The voice was distorted, it hurt Mel. He kept running.

He reached the spot where Oliver was left. He wasn't there any longer though. This was Spectre's memory, not reality. Kayle was waiting there with a gun, both in Spectre's memory, and Mel's reality. But this was where he split. His best friend. He didn't want to leave her, but he had to. Mel jumped forward, knowing Kayle was there.
His head hurt, but it was good. Splitting from Spectre's memory brought him a step closer back to reality, away from these visions. Oliver was there now, bleeding from his leg, but Mel was still partly in the memory of Spectre. He could see her, could see two Kayle's. The one that really was there, and the one that was there when Spectre tried to blow up the warehouse. He watched in horror as Spectre was flung back, shot by the Kayle from her memory. He didn't see what happened next. He rammed back into reality.
The second Kayle, the one from Spectre's memory disappeared. Everything was real again.
Oliver's screams were loud and clear now, as were Nathan's. The real Kayle was shooting, and Mel was instinctively running.
Not to cover.
Not to Kayle.
To Oliver.
He picked the detective up and screamed down the stairs. "NATHAN! I'VE FOUND YOUR DETECTIVE! SOMEONE SHOT HIM IN THE LEG! I-" Mel let out a harsh scream, faking that he had been shot. He heard Nathan yell back.
"Mel? MEL? Are you alright?"
Mel heard footsteps. He needed to leave. Nathan needed to believe he really had been shot, that Oliver was alive. If Nathan knew Mel was alive, he'd try to find him and die in the process.
Mel rushed at Kayle, shooting. Lucky shot. Kayle fell to the ground, a bullet in his chest.
Mel ran over the dying man and found what he needed.
Kayle had set up charges around the building, ready to blow if there was a raid. He would have set them off during this one, but he was stuck inside, and he wasn't going to kill himself. Mel shuffled through the forest of folders and papers on the leader's desk. There it was. The detonator.

He strolled out of the room calmly and sat, watching Kayle die.
"I bet you didn't plan on this, did you? Me completing her job. Blowing this place to hell?"
Kayle coughed up a small puddle of blood in response.
Mel walked by and watched from a distance as Nathan screamed into his communicator. He looked to his friend. He had heard the name 'Carter'. He listened closer...

***

Nathan couldn't get anyone on his communicator, neither could Carter or Oliver. Carter sighed, slumped Oliver over his shoulder.
"Nathan, they're gone. The team. They're either dead, or have left the warehouse." Carter explained.
"What about Mel? I saw him moments ago!" Nathan argued.
"And then you heard him die. He's gone."
Nathan nodded grimly, and the three men made their way out of the warehouse.

***

When Mel was sure they were gone, he returned to Kayle, holding the detonator in his hands.
"This is for everyone you hurt. This is for my job, my life. The life you ruined. Goodbye, Urick."

The warehouse blew up, everyone and everything inside, erased from the face of the earth...

 

In a brilliant flash of reds and oranges, warehouse 12 burst into flames.

Oliver could feel his stomach pushed upwards, and then downwards, as Carter hoisted him from the scene. Another fleet man, Nathan, was there too. The detective, half conscious, felt a sick lump in his heart. He knew Mel was still in there, incinerated with Urick Kayle. The ring leader who had orchestrated the organ thief guild, who had owned the warehouse, supervised and managed the money. Mel was dead, and he had only known him for that short time. Rest his soul, he thought to himself.

Although, amongst the ashes and the deaths, and the intense pain registering from his leg, Oliver knew that this entire endeavor had only just begun.

 

The three men sat down in an alleyway. Nathan finished trying for the fifth time to get any of the team on the communicator.
"Well, we'll just have to walk back to the ship and hope they're there." Carter finished.
"And what about him?" Nathan asked, nodding to the detective.
"He just led an entire police force to their deaths. It wasn't his fault, but if they want to, they'll be able to twist it into looking like it. He'll be locked up."
Oliver was sleeping, but Nathan imagined he could hear what they were saying.
"Well... We can't leave him for them... What about..."
"What about what?"
"What about we... take him with us?" Nathan only realised then how stupid the idea was. That'd just get them more unwanted attention/
"Nathan Brown. That has got to be the stupidest thing I've heard from you," he began. Carter grinned, "let's ask him."

 

“Do you have any particular kind of plan here or are we just going to make this up as we go along, the way we used to when stationed on Fortuna.” Dog asked and chuckled. Pappy groaned. More than once many UEAF troopers would joke about the irony of naming a planet after the goddess of fortune when so much of it seemed to be lacking there.

“The gods were against us then Dog.”

“If the gods be against us what can possibly be for us?”

“Make no mistake about it, the UEAF are the good guys here.”

“They say that in war the first casualty is the truth. All I know is that it gets pretty hard to get past the rhetoric and propaganda sometimes.”

“Listen to your gut.”

“My stomach is rumbling.”

“You should have ate something before you came here then.”

“I’m on a liquid diet, and you still owe me a drink.”

“Business before pleasure.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I think I know someone who may be able to help you…I mean us, with our problem.”

“Who?”

“A friend.”

Pappy frowned, places like Hun Tavern seemed like a dubious place to meet friends.

“Can he be trusted?”

“As much as anyone else on this planet, present company excluded. He‘s a frequent here, keep your fingers crossed, maybe, yep…there he is.” Dog sneakily gestured at a booth and then quickly stroked his head with the same hand to disguise the move. Pappy saw a mustached man with a long brown trench coat drinking a pale ale from a tall glass. He had a number of glasses littered around the table, an early night.

“That drunk?”

“He’s one of us, used to be at least. Special Aerospace Services, first Regiment.”

"And now?”

“He does freelance work.”

“Mercenary?”

“I guess, is that what you call them?”

“What side does he play for?”

“Whichever side pays better.”

“Great.”

“He’s good for information, you just have to make sure to ask the right questions and keep his hands happy. Get your wallet ready.”

The two men made it to the booth and Dog cheerfully gave the man a tap on the shoulder.

“Rooney, you mind if I join you?”

“What the hell do you want you ugly son of a bitch?” The stranger said and rubbed at his chin as he regarded the two with barely open eyes.

“Maybe we should leave?” Pappy whispered. Dogface waved him off.

“It’s what he does, he has a funny sense of humor. Come on Rooney, let me introduce you to my friend here, Pappy’s his name.”

“With all due respect, kindly go **** yerself. I’m not in the mood.” The man rubbed at his temples as if he had a headache.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth there, maybe we should wash it clean with something a hundred proof.” Rooney smiled, slightly.

“Who’s buying, you? You cheap bastard.”

“No, me.” Pappy answered.

“Who the hell are you?”

“My friend Rooney, remember? I told you, this is Pappy.”

“What the hell do you want?” Rooney’s eyes were mere slits, either his head was killing him or he was very drunk.

“I’m just visiting Ceres, not from here.”

“I can tell, but Hun Tavern ain’t exactly the kind of place most tourists go, neither is Ceres for that manner. And your face has active duty written all over it. You looking to recruit here fleet man? Good luck if you are.”

“Can we sit?”

“Have at is hoss.”

“I hear you used to be fleet.”

“My friend, that was a long time ago.”

“Okay, I get that, I’m not looking to get you to reenlist or anything like that. I also hear that you sometimes do freelance work, think of this as employment then. I have a job for you, an easy one. Depeneding on how it turns out it might pay well.”

"Who do you want me to kill?” Pappy hoped he wasn’t being serious.

“Nothing like that, something even easier.”

“Hire a syndicate thug if you need somebody’s kneecaps bashed in, I don’t do bodyguard work either.”

“I can take care of myself, I just need some information.” There, Pappy had said it then. The dirty I word that would send off warning bells to anyone with careful enough ears. Wishing he had picked another word, he quickly changed subjects.

“It’s just that, anybody like you who knows the place and spends this much time this close to the ports must see and hear stuff.”

“Well, even if I was blind I would know that some big ass Earth cruiser arrived here not to long ago. I’m guessing that’s why some fleet guy is here asking a local questions.” Pappy frowned.

“Who else notices these things?”

“Everybody with a pulse, you don’t have to have an ear to the ground to notice things like that. If anybody here sneezes we all catch the cold, it’s a small planet.”

“Okay, let me ask a different question, anybody here been talking crazy, about Earth, anti-Earth stuff in particular.”

“Buddy, half the guys in this joint hate Earth. You kidding me, most folks they stay up all night sharpening their knives and polishing their guns and talk about revolutionary stuff.”

“But this one guy sounds more like a politician than a disgruntled expatriate. He’s too tall to be from Earth, too short to be a belter. About the size of a Martian.” Rooney’s ears perked up.

“This one guy I’m thinking about doesn’t travel alone either, not usually. Sometimes he has people with him, and he talks like someone who knows a lot about the fleet. Almost like he studies it.”

“Buddy, the guy you’re talking about, who you almost described to a tee, is standing behind you right now with his back to me.”

Pappy frowned and slowly began to turn. Dog surreptitiously snuck around to take a peek and quickly turned back.

“I have no idea who this creep is and what he looks like, but there is someone at the bar right now directly on our six. Stocky build, straw colored hair.”

Pappy turned carefully.

“I won’t be able to identify him with his back turned.”

“What now?”

“Wait until he makes a move I guess, if we try to move close to him someone might make us. If I can just get a little closer I can tag his ass and get back to the safe house.”

“Buy me a drink.” Dog said.

“Pardon?”

“I mean, by us a drink. It will get you closer to the bar, and in range.”

“Good thinking Dog, I may even get myself one. If this works we can all drink to the health and longevity of the fleet, and Earth.”

“Hell, even I could drink to that.” Rooney said and leaned back in the booth as Pappy rose and walked to the bar. Making small steps, like a predator stalking its prey, he thought and hardly breathed. Reaching for his tracker gun he forced a smile on his face, a distraction smile, and sang on old space shanty in his head…

 

Richard sat in the corner of the bar. A drink after a job always helped things slip away, it was always the best way to relax. A small group of people caught his attention across the bar, he wasn’t sure what, but it passed time watching them.
He shut his organic eye and lent back, faking getting a bit of shut eye, his robotic eye watched there mouth movements. He didn’t get the whole picture, but he was quite interested non the less. One of them started to move, he reached for something. Richard immediately recognised the movement, this was going to get intresting.

 

Nathan, Carter and Oliver wandered the streets, unsure what to do. Nathan decided it would be best to find Pappy. They'd get back to Spectre after they had him. Besides, the rest of the team were missing, probably dead. Pappy was the only other surviving member as far as they knew. At times like this, he was the most trustworthy.

It was merely a small bar, but Nathan had a feeling Pappy was in there. After all this battle, something ticked in his head. "Carter, I've got a good feeling about this. Go around the back, make sure nobody leaves or gets in. If I know Pappy, he'll be in the exact same bar as a target." Nathan said.

They silently entered the bar full of screaming drunks trying to drink more than their best friend. Sure enough, Pappy was there, ready to tag a target. Nathan touched his hidden pistol just in case the situation changed. He eyed Dog sitting down with another man a few tables down.

 

He sat, and waited focused only on what was unfolding before him.

 

Wolf leaned back in his chair and yawned loudly, a signal to Specter that he was there and still breathing. Akinlabi sat at a chair and looked over the young stray that the young fleet busy bodies brought. She dozed silently as the medicines, still moist on her wounds, quickly did their job.

"How are we looking boss?" Wolf sang. Specter's ghost seemed to flicker for a second as she looked over her surveillance equipment.

"We're behind schedule, with the Athena in port Silas and his men will be making a move soon, and we still have no idea where Silas is. I'm a bit concerned, but not panicked."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Specter's form hung silent for a second, was all the talk annoying her? Distracting? Banal?

"Are you bored?"

"All I'm saying is that the sooner we can get this over with the sooner you can go back to---wherever the hell you came from. I can go back to scamming spacefarers at casinos, the fleet boys can go back to blasting asteroids---" there came a sudden sigh from Specter, a crack in her front.

"You shouldnt go anywhere alone, not on this rock, not now, not even you."

"Who says I have to go alone? I've got Akinlabi here, right?" Wolf asked, hoping that the big man wouldnt mind tagging along for another quickie. After all, even though he was tough, he had been shot.

Without so much as a groan, the dark man rose and regarded Wolf with his one good eye, the defunct cybernetic eye, though dead, seemed to stare into his soul.

"Even a lion has his pride."

Wolf smiled.

"See?"

"Pappy and Dog are at the Hun Tavern looking for Silas, but Andres still hasn't been tagged yet. He frequents the night clubs. If you could get a MEM on him I would really appreciate it."

Wolf nodded and quickly stood, reaching for his belt and a MEM gun.

"Check, keep the lights on for us, we'll be back before dawn I hope. Really not dressed for the club scene but we'll think of something, right buddy?" Wolf asked Akinlabi. His companion soundlessly nodded.

***

Pappy could feel eyeballs on him, it was a horrible feeling. Was someone behind him? It was an odd thing, almost like a telepathic or sixth sense, and the oddest thing about it was, it was never wrong. Someone was eyeing him, damn! He couldn't worry about it, one thing at a time. Mark the spy, then get back to the bunker and figure out the next move, if he could even get that far. Cautiously positioning the MEM gun, Pappy aimed for a fleshy exposed part of Silas' suit, when he turned around.

It was like being caught peeking in the girls' room, Pappy froze, looking every bit the guilty part, to his surprise Silas looked past him, through him even. He was looking for something else, something or someone. Why had he gone back to Hun Tavern? To meet someone?