| This episode, Mylu and Vaz Rob a Bank, was written by Sonasaurus and Voidlazarus. Please do not edit this fiction without the writers' permission. |
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| CY-44 // 85U:70CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1342 HOURS // JULY 2, 2554 」 Location: VULTEX ICE CAVERNS,「 162 KM 」WEST OF NEW TYNE // PLANET「 SQALA // VENEZIA 」,「 QAB // ORSO 」SYSTEM |
The Ibie’shan Aspirant sits in the middle of a frozen cavern, surrounded by frozen speleothems. A dim layer of sunlight illuminates the caverns through the layer of ice making up its ceiling. Two Ruuhtian Kig-Yar, Gyr and Thesh, stand watch outside, clad in full-body atmospheric suits to stave off the cold.
Inside the Aspirant’s dilapidated broadcast cabin, Jaal is conversing with the image of an affluently dressed T’vaoan projected from the central holotable — Nor Fel. While she speaks, Jaal pulls her travelling cloak tighter around her shoulders, her breath coalescing from her beak and into the chilly air.
Jaal: “I got us out of there before the authorities showed up. But we had to leave the payload once the scandal broke on the state-wide news. There were too many eyes on the keep by then.”
Nor: (exasperated) “Why is it never simple with you? Even your successful jobs have to come with a fiasco attached, and this was anything but that.”
Jaal: “A fiasco?”
Nor: (irritably) “No, birdbrain, successful. You can’t even manage being successful half the time, and— where are you right now? I thought you landed on Sqala two units ago.”
Jaal: “Right, so you know those two Sangheili who left Urado with me? I think we should cut them in on the Lensky job.”
Nor: (deadpan) “Leave the thinking to me. Fewer headaches for us both that way.”
Jaal: (insistently) “Hear me out, boss. They’re resourceful, real quick on their feet, and they’re not the law. Oh, and they’re fledglings, which means we can pay them a smaller cut.”
Nor’s skepticism fades a little, but her expression is still one of uncertainty.
Nor: “How resourceful?”
Jaal: “Resourceful enough to acquire something for you at great personal risk. They should be back any—”
A muffled boom sounds off inside the cavern, sending a low rumble through the interior of the Aspirant. A few stalactites are heard striking the top of the ship and shattering. Jaal straightens as a string of heavy footfalls faintly grow louder in the distance.
Jaal: (sheepishly) “Be back in a cental.”
Jaal hurries out of the broadcast cabin to see Plokk Laar peering out of the ship from the top of the boarding ramp. At the base of the ramp, Gyr and Thesh nervously calibrate their Plasma Rifles, also staring in the direction of the sound.
Plokk: (fretfully) “This was a bad idea. I should have gone with them.”
Jaal: “I didn’t realize you grew attached to them already.”
Plokk: (fretfully) “It’s not that. If anything happens to them, something worse happens to me.” (cocks head) “Wait. I think I can hear them.”
From an enormous tunnel in the cavern wall, the sound of two adolescent Sangheili screaming in terror grows steadily louder through the rising din of the approaching footfalls. A moment later, Mylu ‘Zulmar’s airborne form shoots in from around the tunnel bend, the thrusters on his combat harness glowing brightly. He frantically attempts to turn, but is too late to stop himself from crashing into the tunnel wall, his scream abruptly cut off on impact. He crumples to the cavern floor, energy shields flickering.
Vaz ‘Suman flies into view a moment later, and his screaming trails off when he spots Mylu’s dazed form on all fours. He disengages his own thrusters and dexterously bounces off the wall before hopping to the icy floor. Mylu rubs the side of his head as Vaz helps him up, and the two of them make a dash for the Aspirant.
They barely clear the tunnel before a full-grown chaefka smashes into the tunnel wall amidst a cacophony of deafening footfalls, prompting squawks of panic from Gyr and Thesh as more stalactites rain down around them. Plokk’s eyes widen and he hurries past Jaal, who is fumbling with a battered Focus Rifle she grabbed off the wall.
Jaal: (tersely) “Get us airborne.”
Plokk: “Yep.”
Plokk runs into the flight cabin while Jaal deactivates the safety on her rifle, only for the electromagnetic coils to jam halfway.
Nor: “Still waiting, Jaal.”
Jaal smacks the rifle repeatedly, though the coils are still latched together.
Jaal: “Almost done. (mutters) Stupid piece of junk...”
Nor: “What was that?”
Jaal: “Not you, boss.”
Gyr and Thesh open fire on the chaefka, prompting Mylu and Vaz to draw their Plasma Rifles and do the same while continuing to run. Mylu’s shots mostly miss, spewing a rapid stream of crimson before the rifle overheats, while Vaz manages to scorch a few hairs off the chaefka’s forelegs with a measured burst of azure plasma bolts.
None of the gunfire is slowing the tusk beast down, however. Jaal’s Focus Rifle finally unlatches with a series of clicks, and she peers down the scope, taking aim at the chaefka’s head and firing. The energy beam catches the beast across the eyes, causing it to rear back with a roar. Its forelegs slam down heavily a moment later, sending ice spraying in every direction. Jaal continues to fire at the chaefka, which is closing distance on Mylu and Vaz with renewed vigour.
Jaal: (hollering) “What’s the holdup?”
Plokk’s voice is heard from the flight cabin over the Aspirant’s sputtering turbines.
Plokk: (O.S.) “The holdup is this ship is older than your grandmother’s grandmother – and moves like her too.”
Jaal: “You want to come say that to my face, Plokk Laar?”
Plokk: (O.S.) “Not even a little. The autopilot’s busted, so you need me with both hands functioning right now.”
Jaal: (mutters) “It’s not your hands you should be worried about.”
Jaal manages to shoot the chaefka in the snout, causing it to snarl before fixing its bloodshot glare directly at her.
Jaal: (quietly) “Uh-oh...”
The chaefka barrels directly at the Aspirant, rapidly picking up speed. Gyr and Thesh abandon all attempts to stand their ground and leap into the freighter as Jaal holds a sustained burst from her rifle until it overheats.
Jaal: (panickedly) “Daika daika daika! Take off now!”
Plokk: (O.S.) “Are the fledglings on board?”
Jaal eyes Mylu and Vaz, who are less than fifty paces away. They are frantically trying to engage their thrusters as the chaekfa begins slashing at the air with its tusks, the tips narrowly missing their marks.
Jaal: “Uh, yeah, just about.”
Plokk: (O.S.) “Okay. Hold onto something.”
The Aspirant finally lifts into the air, the shriek of scraping metal emitting from the boarding ramp as it retracts into the ship. Mylu’s thrusters finally kick in and he jets up toward the hatch, narrowly avoiding a horizontal swipe from the chaefka’s tusks. Vaz nimbly leaps onto one of the tusks and launches himself upward, managing to reignite his thrusters in midair.
As Plokk turns the Aspirant’s nose toward the cavern exit, he sees the chaefka rear up once again to take a swipe at the freighter. He frantically swings the ship back, managing to avoid the worst of the blow, but nonetheless the chaefka’s powerful claws rake the Aspirant hard enough to rip its underside open, sending it into a downward tilt to starboard.
Plokk fights to bring the Aspirant level, but Mylu misses the hatch and skids across the top of the ship, while Vaz smacks into the side of its hull with a metallic bang. The two of them tumble to the cavern floor on opposite sides of the freighter.
Plokk: (panicking) “Jaal, you said they were on board!”
Jaal: “I said just about on board!”
Plokk: “What do you mean ‘just about’? Phragga’s going to just about kill me!”
Jaal: “How are you more scared of Phragga than you are of a daik’n chaefka?”
Plokk: “How are you not?!”
Inside the broadcast cabin, Nor Fel’s hologram is pinching her beak with one hand.
Nor: “I’m struggling to remember why Sav hired you, Jaal.”
Jaal: “For starters, no one can cut deals with Rion like me.”
Nor: “That must be it. Can’t think of anything else right now.”
Mylu has sufficiently regained his wits to launch himself into the Aspirant. He turns and stares out the open hatch in consternation.
Mylu: “Vaz, what are you doing?”
Vaz has drawn his Energy Sword and is charging straight at the chaefka, who lowers its head and tries to gore him once more. The flares in Vaz’s combat harness go off, momentarily blinding the beast as he jumps over its tusks and activates his thrusters. He aims a slash at the chaefka’s neck, prompting it to instinctively raise its right paw to shield its face.
The chaefka lets out a piercing shriek as the twin blades sever its foreleg with a single swing. Reeling, the tusk beast’s other paw catches Vaz squarely in the back, sending him tumbling head over hooves through the air. His thrusters sputter and fail, but Jaal deftly grabs one of his hands, giving Mylu the chance to do the same with his other hand. The two of them haul Vaz into the Aspirant, and Jaal wastes no time slamming her free hand against the button next to the hatch, finally drawing it shut as the freighter jettisons out of the cavern with a slight list.
The chaefka’s wails soon fade behind them amidst the rattling din of the Aspirant. Daylight fills the broadcast cabin as the freighter zips out of the caverns and into the snowy Venezian landscape.
Jaal: “Told you I’d get them out.”
Plokk: (O.S.) “No you didn’t. We are not telling Phragga about this, okay?”
Mylu and Vaz lie on the floor, gasping for breath. Jaal peers down at them inquisitively.
Jaal: “So did you get it?”
Mylu shoots her a reproachful look, still too breathless to speak.
Jaal: “What? We all got out alive, didn’t we?”
Mylu: (winded) “Yeah, you were... a big help... waiting with the ship... trying to ditch us...”
Jaal: (offended) “You’d have been skewered if I didn’t take those shots from up there. And I wasn’t trying to ditch you, I had faith you’d make it.”
Nor: “You’re still a terrible liar, Jaal.”
Jaal rounds on Nor Fel’s hologram.
Jaal: “Boss, whose side are you on? I went to all this trouble to get you some chaefka pheromones, and these two couldn’t even do that right.”
Nor: “Uh-huh. And you were trying to sell me on their resourcefulness just a few centals ago.”
Vaz produces a fist-sized phial, the viscous liquid inside encased by a grey metal frame. He stands, as does Mylu.
Vaz: “She isn’t wrong. This time, at least.”
Jaal: “See, I–”
Nor: “Shut up, Jaal. (peers closely at Vaz) Surely it can’t be...”
Vaz regards Nor Fel in silence. She rounds on Jaal incredulously.
Nor: “Why didn’t you tell me Vaz ‘Suman was one of the fledglings you were talking about?”
Jaal: (taken aback) “I... wasn’t aware that name meant anything to you, boss.”
Mylu: (perplexed) “Neither was I. What’s going on here?”
Vaz: (quietly) “Mistress Katin began trading with Nor Fel not long after the war ended. Our first exchange was ambushed, and once I got Mistress Katin to safety, she ordered me to go back and help our new business partners.”
Nor: “I’d have lost a fair chunk of my assets if this fledgling hadn’t recovered them and eliminated the perpetrators. (glances at Mylu) Who’s the other one?”
Mylu steps forward and puffs out his chest.
Mylu: “Mylu ‘Zulmar, son of Lady Katin and Lord Tulan. Future kaidon of my keep, once I get my affairs sorted.”
Nor: “Well, that does change things. (TO JAAL) Bring them in on the job, but don’t get them killed. And no double-crossing this time, you hear?”
Jaal: (blinks) “I didn’t suggest–”
Nor: “I have plans for New Tyne, and there aren’t many Sangheili who are willing to source the goods I need. You jeopardize my business with House ‘Zulmar, and the next thing I’m selling them is your hide. Do you understand?”
Jaal: “Yes, boss.”
Nor: “Good. Now get over here already. The plan’s changed since the Urado job didn’t work out, but we’ll discuss our next move in person.”
With that, Nor Fel’s image disappears from the holotable. Jaal reaches for the phial Vaz is clutching, but he holds it away from her.
Vaz: “Master Mylu and I will deliver it. Not you.”
Jaal: “Fine. Not that you need to earn Nor Fel’s approval, evidently. I wouldn’t have bothered with all this if I had known.”
Mylu: “Great. Then we can switch roles the next time you get a brilliant idea.”
Mylu is adjusting some settings on his combat harness, though he quickly grows frustrated.
Mylu: “Vaz, how do I increase the temperature? Somehow it’s even colder in here than it was in the cavern.”
Plokk: (O.S.) “That’s because the underside of the hull is breached. I wouldn’t fly this over an ocean, never mind back into space. Come into the flight cabin, it’s warmer in here.”
Vaz helps Mylu adjust his temperature settings as they head through the doorway connecting into the flight cabin. Mylu collapses into the unoccupied copilot seat next to Plokk, who is busily tapping various panels and screens in addition to navigating the ship. Vaz eyes the numerous blinking lights and warning systems chiming from the controls.
Vaz: “That looks worrisome.”
Plokk: (tersely) “I know what I’m doing, kid. We just need this junker to hold together until we make it to New Tyne.”
Vaz: “Will we?”
Plokk: “Sure hope so. I’m a pilot, not a prophet. Sorry for taking off early back there. That’s what I get for trusting Jaal.”
Mylu glances toward the broadcast cabin, where Jaal sits in the company of the other Kig-Yar.
Mylu: (quietly) “Should we be concerned about her?”
Plokk: “She won’t try anything if Nor Fel forbids it. Even out here, your family name affords you a rare protection.”
Mylu: (scowls) “Yes, well, consider me surprised to learn about mother’s illicit dealings like this, and that Vaz was part of it as well.”
Vaz’s hand tightens into the seat he is gripping.
Vaz: “I was not given a choice, Master Mylu. Not even to speak of it to you.”
Mylu: (frostily) “I understand. But it does vex me.”
Jaal enters the flight cabin, peering out of the viewport into the endless fields of white.
Jaal: “Doesn’t seem like Sqala’s militia has noticed our arrival. One of the good things about landing far from the city.”
Mylu: (shivers) “I’m not particularly fond of the climate here. How do humans tolerate it? They have even thinner skin than we do.”
Jaal: “Humans love planets with more water than they’ll ever need. They make a lot of money selling it to each other.”
Vaz: (perplexed) “Selling water? That’s like selling oxygen.”
Jaal: (clicks beak) “It’s a strange custom, but humans are strange creatures.”
Vaz: (perturbed) “Fied and Joori, Not even the Covenant forced the Unggoy to pay for their own methane.”
Plokk: “Greed beats out everything, even religious zealotry. You’ll know what I mean when you work for Nor Fel.”
Mylu: “Have you worked for her before?”
Plokk: “Occasionally. I mostly ran odd jobs for her mate Sav, but he went missing about forty cycles ago. I doubt she likes talking about it, so mind your manners.”
Mylu: (scoffs) “Are you really lecturing me on manners?”
Plokk: (grumbles) “Coming from money doesn’t make you well-mannered, kid. Now if your fancy suit’s warm enough for you, clear out, all of you. I need to concentrate on keeping this junker in the air.”
With a huff, Mylu stands up and follows Vaz and Jaal out of the flight cabin. The door slides shut behind them, leaving them in the unoccupied broadcast cabin.
Mylu: “Why are you so keen to have us on this job?”
Jaal: “Because it’s a big job and I don’t want to mess it up. I saw what you two were capable of when you busted us out of the Hidal Keep, and just now with the chaefka. Even you, Mylu, didn’t do so terrible for someone severely lacking in combat experience.”
Mylu: “Err, thanks. I think.”
Jaal: “I’m serious, you just need more practice. But I think you can both handle this heist Nor Fel’s put together.”
Vaz: “You still haven’t told us much about the Lensky human.”
Jaal: “Right, I knew I was forgetting something. Gather around.”
Mylu and Vaz draw closer to the holotable. Jaal pulls out a set of papers from under the table and lays them upon its surface. Mylu peers in surprise at the hand-scrawled profile sheets.
Jaal: “It’s old-fashioned, yes, but also harder to steal and easier to destroy.”
Jaal uses one claw to tap the image of the aging human male in the topmost profile sheet.
Jaal: “Tobias Lensky. Out of all the targets in this stack, we have the least information on him. Nothing on his origins or his kin, just that he has a reputation for doing business effectively and amicably. The Smiling Cat, the humans call him. Any questions so far?”
Mylu: “Yes. What’s a cat?”
Jaal: (taken aback) “That’s not– (stops) Any questions besides that one?”
Mylu: (affronted) “What was wrong with my question?”
Vaz: “Why is he worth the risk, if you know so little about him?”
Jaal: “Because he retired from leading The Syndicate after the war, and split his liquid assets into who knows how many places. We’re going to crack open the one in New Tyne.”
Vaz: (skeptical) “How did Nor Fel find out about it?”
Jaal: “I don’t usually ask those questions. But any information on Sqala can be bought for the right price, if you know where to look for it.”
Vaz: “And you believe it wise to rob someone so skilled at keeping secrets?”
Mylu: “Perhaps he was better at keeping them in his youth. He may have retired out of necessity.”
Vaz: “Master Mylu, I strongly advise you to think about what you are agreeing to.”
Mylu rounds on Vaz with both hands on his hips.
Mylu: (irritably) “I didn’t realize working with Nor Fel was suddenly beneath you, Vaz.”
Vaz: (sharply) “It should be beneath you.”
Mylu: “Why? Would I be setting a poor precedent for House ‘Zulmar?”
Vaz: “That’s not fair–”
Mylu: “Fair? Do you think it’s fair we were driven to this lowlife human colony, freezing in our armour and living out of a rusty junker that is liable to fall out of the–”
Mylu and Vaz stumble as the Aspirant tilts forward without warning, while Jaal manages to maintain her balance by grabbing the holotable. The papers slide onto the floor.
Plokk: (O.S.) “Engine turbines are failing! We’re about to hit snow!”
Jaal straightens and shoots Mylu an accusatory look before running for the crew quarters.
Jaal: “Get back in the flight cabin. I’ll alert the others.”
The door to the flight cabin slides open as Mylu and Vaz rush inside. Plokk is frantically adjusting the controls before him, which are now flashing more urgently as he strains to pull the Aspirant’s nose up, while the floor begins tilting once again.
Vaz: “Anything we can do?”
Plokk: (brusquely) “Yes. Secure yourselves and don’t distract me.”
Mylu and Vaz find the two nearest seats and activate the gravity locks. As the snowy terrain below grows steadily closer from beyond the viewport, Mylu squeezes his eyes shut.
Mylu: (whispers) “Urs and Joori keep me.”
Listing dangerously on the verge of a spiral, the Aspirant plows headfirst into the side of a deep snowbank, and a deep whump is heard from beneath its surface as the freighter is pummeled by enormous chunks of snow breaking apart and buffeting its worn hull.
Inside the flight cabin, Vaz is roused by his armour’s energy shield alarm. He shakes his head, keying the safety release on his seat to release the gravity locks. With a yelp, he suddenly tumbles forward into the starboard corner of the cabin, which is revealed to be oriented at a forty-five degree angle, and he hits the opposite wall with a bang.
The noise startles Mylu into wakefulness, though he too is a bit disoriented. He groggily deactivates his gravity locks and yelps as well before landing on top of Vaz.
Vaz: (winded) “Are you hurt, Master Mylu?”
Mylu: “Yes. But not because of the ship.”
Mylu gingerly picks himself up and staggers to the door.
Mylu: “Check on Plokk. I’ll see if Jaal and the others survived.”
Mylu’s foot catches on the slanted doorway, causing him to trip and fall over into the broadcast chamber. Vaz bolts up immediately.
Vaz: (alarmed) “Master Mylu!”
Mylu: (aggravated) “Fied damn it all, stop fussing over me, Vaz! You’re not my mother!”
Vaz watches as Mylu staggers up and stomps off toward the stern. From behind him, Plokk unlocks the pilot’s chair as well, grabbing hold of it to steady himself.
Plokk: “Don’t take it too personally, Vaz.”
Vaz: (quietly) “He’s never spoken to me like that before. Not even when we quarrelled in the past...”
Plokk: “He’s not built for this life like you and me, not yet. I’ve seen others snap like that the first time they feel in over their heads. Whatever he’s dealing with, it’s probably not about you. (beat) Well, maybe a little, but...”
Vaz and Plokk freeze as the Aspirant shifts even lower in the collapsed snowbank. The tilt in the floor grows steeper, forcing them both to lean farther in the opposite direction.
Plokk: “We have to get out of here before we’re completely buried. Can’t use the boarding hatch, it’s pointing straight down.”
Vaz: (thinks) “Make a hole.”
Plokk: “How?”
Vaz: “Fire the engines. Melt the snow around the turbines.”
Plokk: (nervously) “Are you crazy? That’ll send us deeper!”
Vaz: “I’ll grab you as soon as you initiate the firing sequence, then fly us out. We’ll be fine.”
Mylu: (COM) “Vaz, the hull was ripped out from the crew quarters. We found an opening but it’s a dead end. Is Plokk alright?”
Vaz: (COM) “He is. Get everyone off the ship, we’re about to create a way out.”
Mylu: (COM) “Good. We’ll be ready.”
Plokk glances at Vaz from where he is sequencing the engines into firing simultaneously.
Plokk: “No ‘Master Mylu’? You must be a little angry with him too.”
Vaz: (sullenly) “Yes, because he’s not wrong.”
Plokk: “About you?”
Vaz: “About the secrets I keep from him. (voice lowers) One in particular that I must keep from him.”
Plokk: “No one’s forcing you to, you know.”
Vaz: “It wasn’t out of obedience to Mistress Katin that I did; quite the opposite, actually. And that is... (voice tightens) ...a difficult thing to admit to someone I treasure – more difficult still when it stares me in the face, like it did just now.”
Plokk: “Must be some secret to be worth the aggravation.”
Vaz: (seriously, fretfully) “It is. It always will be.”
Plokk stops tapping the controls and eyes the doorway apprehensively.
Plokk: “Firing sequence standing by. Are you sure you’ll get us out in time?”
Vaz: “If I don’t try, then we freeze to death in here.”
Plokk: “Well, when you put it like that...”
Vaz holds Plokk by the back of his flight suit. As soon as Plokk fires the Aspirant’s engines, Vaz engages his thrusters, propelling the two of them up and out of the flight cabin. Plokk squawks as he hits the door frame on the way out.
Plokk: “Careful, kid!”
Vaz: (straining) “Sorry. The thrusters aren’t taking your weight as well as I hoped.”
As Vaz and Plokk soar through the broadcast cabin, the sound of the turbines can be heard growing louder. As the freighter’s nose tips farther downward, Vaz guides Plokk into a clumsy landing atop the side of the holotable, the two of them bracing themselves against the tilting floor.
Mylu floats down from the doorway above, his thrusters keeping him steady in the air. He clumsily manages to grab Plokk by the bicep, and Vaz shifts his grip so that he is holding Plokk’s other arm.
Mylu: “This way, Vaz.”
Vaz activates his thrusters once more, and this time they achieve much faster lift, expediently rising up and into the crew chambers. Mylu steers them toward the open hole in the side, around which the hull is shredded and frayed.
The three of them swoop out of the Aspirant as it burrows itself into the snow with extreme prejudice. Chunks of ice are raining down on them, and as the freighter’s engines melt the snow overhead, Mylu and Vaz fly up and out of the opening while it rapidly caves in on itself, with Plokk gripping their arms for dear life.
Finally, they clear the snowbank and the clouds of white mist kicked up by the commotion, and Mylu guides them down toward where Jaal and the Ruuhtians are waiting from a safe distance.
Jaal: “You could have told us the plan first.”
Plokk: “Quit complaining, we gave you more time to make it out than we gave ourselves. (TO MYLU) Thanks for coming back, kid.”
Mylu: “Of course. We should keep moving.”
The eight of them trot through the ankle-deep snow, their surroundings featureless except for a crumbling abandoned factory nearby. To the east, New Tyne is drawing close enough for its amber-bronze lights to emit a warm glow against the horizon.
Plokk: “Suddenly doesn’t seem so bad, does it? Wretched as it is.”
Jaal: “Wretched compared to what? I'll take New Tyne over the pristine sterility of High Charity every time.”
Plokk: (clicks beak) “I forgot you liked living in a trash heap.”
Jaal: (content) “As long as it’s my trash heap. It is good to be back.”
The dusky sky heralds evening’s approach as the group stops before a wide river; its frothing, volatile current separates them from the lavish human manor perched on the hilltop across the water. A vast stretch of hardy farmland lies beyond, their habitats dotting the landscape between the manor and New Tyne’s looming skyline in the distance.
Jaal: “That’s Nor Fel’s estate. We’ll need a way to cross the river.”
Mylu: (haughtily) “Nor Fel could do with a few lessons in etiquette. She hasn’t sent anyone to bring us over, even after the harrowing journey we embarked upon to get here.”
Jaal: “You aren’t on Sanghelios anymore, young master. Everyone looks out for themselves on Sqala.”
Vaz: (decidedly) “Master Mylu and I will ferry everyone over the river, two at a time.”
Mylu blanches.
Mylu: “Are you sure about this? We barely got Plokk out of the ship between the two of us.”
Vaz: “We’ll be flying across, not up. It should be fine.”
Mylu: (apprehensively) “Okay, but... I never learned to swim, remember?”
Vaz: (shortly) “Yes. Unfortunately, you’ll have to trust me on this, Master Mylu.”
Jaal glances toward Vaz, who is dourly adjusting some settings on his armour. Mylu opens his mouth, but Plokk nudges him and gives him a slight shake of the head.
Plokk: “So who wants to go first?”
The Ruuhtians look at one another, none of them looking particularly eager to volunteer. Jaal’s feathered crest ruffles in annoyance.
Jaal: “Cowards. Fine, Plokk and I will take the first crossing.”
Mylu and Vaz take position in front of Jaal and Plokk respectively, grabbing them under the arms while the T’avoans hold them around the waist.
Vaz: “Watch your hands. Not directly under the thrusters.”
Plokk hastily moves his hands above the thrusters. Jaal does the same with Mylu, who activates his thrusters with Vaz close behind. The two of them soar over the churning river with ease, descending on the other side scarcely a cental later. Plokk and Jaal let go as they touch down on the opposite riverbank.
Plokk: “Hands unscorched. Thanks for the warning.”
Jaal turns about and screeches at the other Kig-Yar.
Jaal: “See, nothing to it. Gyr, Thesh, you’re next.”
Mylu and Vaz reactivate their thrusters and fly back across the river, expediently carrying Gyr and Thesh to the other side without trouble. They make one more return trip for the two remaining Kig-Yar, Kess and Ziif, and no sooner Vaz touches down does he draw his Plasma Rifle, aiming it over the Ruuhtians’ shoulders.
Unggoy: (O.S.) “Forefathers’ wisdom be upon you, friends.”
Four armoured aliens appear out of the snowbanks around them. Mylu drops down beside Vaz and fumbles to draw his gun as well.
Ziif: (mutters) “Keepers of the One Freedom.”
Mylu shoots her a quizzical look.
Mylu: (mutters) “Keepers of the what?”
Kess: (mutters) “Religious fanatics. Covenant religious fanatics.”
Mylu: (groans quietly) “Fied take me.”
The aliens – two Unggoy, a Jiralhanae, and a human – are clad in battered armour painted in crude blues and golds, and they are armed with old Covenant-issue firearms. Their weapons remain holstered, however.
Unggoy fanatic 1: We see you venturing boldly onto the property grounds of Nor Fel. Is she expecting you?”
Ziif: “That’s no business of yours.”
Unggoy fanatic 2: “We don’t mean any harm. We merely wish to save her from her own heresy.”
Kess: “She’s not buying what you’re selling. Now buzz off.”
The human calmly steps forward, clearing his throat. He whips out two Plasma Pistols and points them at Kess and Ziif, and proceeds to speak in fluent Sangheili.
Human fanatic: “Perhaps my brothers in faith are being too vague. (TO MYLU AND VAZ) Bring us across the river, or these two take the express elevator down.”
Mylu and Vaz level their Plasma Rifles at the human, prompting the Jiralhanae and both Unggoy to direct their guns at them in response. The human smirks.
Mylu: “Your Sangheili needs practice.”
Vaz shoots Mylu a frustrated look that goes unnoticed. The human’s smirk immediately transforms into an enraged snarl, and he turns his guns toward Mylu instead.
Human fanatic: (indignantly) “My Sangheili is fine, you insolent–!”
The human’s forehead explodes in a burst of gore, spraying the snow with bright red while the booming report of a human Sniper Rifle echoes over from across the river. Mylu and Vaz flinch as a vapour trail appears between them, and likewise the Unggoy jump back in terror. The Jiralhanae, conversely, snarls and pulls out his own weapon.
Jiralhanae fanatic: “For the Great Journ–!”
A second sniper round tears through his head, dropping him in an instant. Wasting no time, Mylu and Vaz holster their weapons and grab Kess and Ziif, launching themselves across the river one last time. A black-armoured human is crouched atop the hill overlooking the river, and he fires two more times, dropping both Unggoy with a pair of clean shots.
Mylu deposits Kess next to Jaal and is about to join the Kig-Yar when he sees Vaz drop off Ziif and fly up toward the human. Mylu follows suit, with both of them landing next to the sniper as he rises into a standing position. The human props his rifle on his shoulder with one hand while depolarizing his helmet visor with the other. Jaal scowls at him as the Kig-Yar nimbly make their way up the hilltop.
Jaal: “Your response time sucks, if you’ll pardon my Human.”
The human, Deadeye, raises his middle finger at Jaal in response. He jerks his head toward the manor, and Mylu and Vaz fall into step with the Kig-Yar as they follow the sniper.
Deadeye: “Nor Fel was expecting you an hour ago. That’s one unit in Human, by the way.”
Jaal: “Very funny. And our ship crashed, it wasn’t my fault.”
Deadeye: “It never is with you. (TO MYLU AND VAZ) Word of advice, squiddies, don’t ever argue with crazy. When you have to shoot – shoot, don’t talk.”
Jaal: “You stole that line from an old human movie. I would know, I’ve seen it.”
Deadeye: “Yeah well, you’d steal the shame off your mother’s hide if she had any, so don’t talk shit.”
Mylu: (aggravated noise) “Seriously, must every human butcher our language? That surely cannot be what you meant to say.”
Deadeye: “Oh, I meant every word. We’re well-versed at butchering our own language too, always have been.”
Mylu: (mutters) “There is nothing well-versed about that.”
| CY-44 // 90U:12CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1807 HOURS // JULY 2, 2554 」 Location: NOR FEL’S ESTATE, CITY NEW TYNE WESTERN OUTSKIRTS // PLANET「 SQALA // VENEZIA 」,「 QAB // ORSO 」SYSTEM |
Deadeye leads the group to the back entrance of the manor. The doors slide open, revealing a dimly-lit hallway decorated with elaborate wall patterns and floor tiles. Mylu relaxes a little as he follows the human inside.
Mylu: “Out of the cold. Finally.”
Deadeye taps the side of his helmet and catches Mylu’s curious look.
Deadeye: “VISR.”
Mylu: “What about your visor?”
Deadeye: “No, VISR. Short for ‘Visual Intelligence System, Reconnaissance’, in English at least. It helps me see in the dark since I don’t have night vision like you.”
Vaz sees Kig-Yar watching them in silence from the rafters above. He draws a little closer to Mylu as they continue deeper into the manor. They soon reach an antiquated stairwell, guarded by four more Kig-Yar standing in the corners. Mylu’s gaze drifts about the collection of human paintings hanging from the walls.
Mylu: “I thought she’d have turned the interior into a real nest. Or replaced their decorations, at least.”
Jaal: “Sav Fel always liked collecting human oddities. Nor picked up the habit after he disappeared.”
Deadeye brings them up the spiral staircase to the second floor, passing by more Kig-Yar guards and entering the adjacent dining hall. Sitting at the far end of an opulent banquet table is Nor Fel, swathed in a regal silk robe and flanked by two T’vaoan guards at her shoulders.
Deadeye: “Everyone present and accounted for, boss.”
Nor: “Well done. What were the gunshots about?”
Deadeye: “Some nutters from the Keepers of the whatever. They wanted the squiddies here to fly them over the river.”
Nor: (clicks beak) “I see. Resume your patrol, Deadeye.”
Deadeye nods and wordlessly shuffles off downstairs. Nor turns her attention to Jaal, who approaches with the rest of the group in tow.
Nor: “Look who’s back to make my life exciting again... and by ‘exciting’ I mean ‘complicated’.”
Jaal: “The ship stalled out, boss. Nothing I could do.”
Nor: “Yeah? And what about the ship you left with? The one I gave you?”
Jaal says nothing.
Nor: “Exactly. Now stand aside and keep your beak shut, I’m about to have a word with our guests.”
Vaz takes out the phial of chaefka pheromones and hands it to Nor, who gestures for him and Mylu to sit in the human chairs adjacent to hers. Mylu does so, while Vaz remains standing.
Nor: “You as well, Vaz. First person to make a move against you or Master Mylu gets skinned alive and fed to my chicks. I’ll do something far worse to the second person and so on, so... relax.”
Vaz looks anything but relaxed as he gingerly takes a seat next to Mylu. Nor gestures to Plokk and the rest of the Kig-Yar to sit as well, and they obey. Jaal makes to join them but Nor holds up her other hand.
Nor: “I didn’t say you could sit.”
Plokk stifles a snicker as Jaal deflates a little, but remains where she stands next to Nor, who goes back to ignoring her as she returns her attention to Mylu and Vaz.
Nor: “Mylu ‘Zulmar. Vaz ‘Suman. I doubt you’re here to get rich off colonial credits or flex cards. Good news for you, neither am I.”
Nor reaches into her robe and pulls out a roll of papers, unravelling them to reveal a series of diagrams and blueprints. Mylu makes a disgruntled noise.
Mylu: “More paper, really?”
Nor: “Yes, really. Paper can’t be hacked remotely, so whoever wants to steal, duplicate, or destroy these has to do it in person. Do you know what this is?”
Nor points to the object in the topmost diagram. Mylu and Vaz study it closely, but neither of them respond. Jaal leans forward slightly, however.
Jaal: “That’s the signal jammer you wanted me to smuggle off of Urado.”
Nor: “It is. And not only did you fail spectacularly, you lost one of my ships and got your team captured. Yes, I know about that, Jaal, I’m not a fool. Now sit down and don’t speak unless I ask you something.”
Jaal sheepishly takes a seat next to Vaz. Mylu ponders something briefly.
Mylu: “The signal jammer. It belonged to Dren ‘Hidal?”
Nor: “‘Belonged to’ is a lenient term, but yes, it was in his possession. Dren was using the jammer to conceal his more disreputable activities, and quite effectively too. But there’s no going back for it, the authorities have surely found the device by now. So I asked around, and one of my associates said she has a lead on another jammer, right here on Sqala. You’ll be seeing her shortly.”
Nor pushes the diagram aside to reveal the next one, a series of tunnels labelled with human alphanumerics.
Nor: “An abandoned tantalum mine, one of many underneath New Tyne. Purchased by Tobias Lensky around the end of the war, and at a record low price because that human is an expert swindler. Within lies a reinforced titanium vault housing a databank of unspent credits – millions of credits.”
Vaz: “And how are we to steal an entire databank built into a titanium vault?”
Nor: (smiles) “Ah, but there’s the delicious irony, warrior. The credits are loaded onto storage units plugged into the access terminal. All you need to do is remove them without raising the alarm.”
Mylu: “Which is why we need the signal jammer.”
Nor: “Precisely. But the jammer’s effects will permeate the surface, which is why a second team will occupy everyone’s attention here.”
Nor slides the sheet to one side, revealing a blueprint depicting the interior of a human building.
Nor: “The Grexco Bank. Constructed directly above Lensky’s mine.”
Jaal: “So we’re robbing the Grexco Bank at the same time, boss?”
Nor: (snaps) “That’s what I just said, and didn’t I tell you to shut it? As soon as the bank’s security systems go down, team two will go in and take everything they’ve got. Serves them right for hoarding all that currency.”
Vaz: (uncomfortable) “But isn’t that the purpose of the bank? To safeguard the people’s money?”
Nor: (scoffs) “A less corrupt bank, perhaps, if there is such a thing. But Grexco only takes customers of the wealthiest persuasion, so it won’t be the people’s money you’re taking.”
Mylu: (nudges Vaz) “Come on, Vaz, who else should we rob if not rich criminals? We can’t expect to get by like this forever – and some good still came out of stealing Dren’s ship, remember??”
Vaz’s mandibles part in a scowl.
Vaz: (reluctantly) “If we must do this, then we do it right. Where is this associate of yours?”
| CY-44 // 90U:62CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1837 HOURS // JULY 2, 2554 」 Location: RION FORGE’S SCRAPYARD, CITY OF NEW TYNE WAREHOUSE DISTRICT // PLANET「 SQALA // VENEZIA 」,「 QAB // ORSO 」SYSTEM |
Mylu and Vaz accompany the Kig-Yar into a dingy scrapyard sitting beneath the open sky, cluttered with an eclectic mix of Sangheili and alien tech stacked haphazardly against its walls. A dark-haired human slides out from underneath the weathered Pelican she is tuning, clad in an engineer jumpsuit. She rises to a standing position and lifts her safety goggles as the group walks up to the dropship.
Rion: “I heard you were back in town. This the whole crew?”
Jaal: “Yes.”
Rion: “Good, because I got a big haul coming in tomorrow and I’ll need the bird to carry it. I loaded her with as much ammo as I could find – twenty-three missiles and about four hundred autocannon rounds in total. It’s not a lot, so don’t go picking any fights you don’t have to.”
Jaal: “It’ll do.”
Rion: “Have you ever flown a Pelican, Plokk?”
Plokk: “Not older models like this one. But I can figure it out if the controls work the same.”
Rion: “They do, mostly. No translation module though, so I hope you’ve been practicing English.”
Plokk: “I know the ship-related words. Just don’t ask me to read them out loud, T’vaoans sound unpleasant speaking any human language – even to our own ears.”
As Plokk makes his way into the Pelican’s cockpit to check the flight systems, Mylu turns to Rion.
Mylu: “Nor Fel said you had information on the signal jammer.”
Rion: “Yeah, I know of one that’s sure to cover all the bases; radio, digital, even neural interface – the best tech ONI has to offer. But... do you believe in ghosts, kid?”
Mylu blinks, taken aback for a moment.
Mylu: (faintly amused) “It seems a little absurd to admit, but my home presides over a sea of shifting deserts from which countless legends arose; one such legend proclaimed that a vengeful god lies sleeping beneath its sands, destined to wake up one day. So perhaps I do believe in ghosts... a little.”
Rion: “Then hopefully this ghost story isn’t enough to scare you off, because you’ll be walking right into one if you want that jammer...”
The team boards the Pelican, which lifts up and out of Rion’s salvage yard. Her voice continues to narrate as the dropship flies out of New Tyne.
Rion: (V.O.) “A UNSC prowler crashed about a hundred klicks south of the city. It’s called the Leap of Defiance, stolen during the war by Georgi Baklanov, and until a few days ago, it laid dormant where he concealed it outside New Tyne. Most salvagers still haven’t heard about the crash; almost everyone who has is steering clear... and the few who went snooping never came back.”
Mylu: (V.O.) “How did the Leap of Defiance crash?”
Rion: (V.O.) “That’s the million credit question, isn’t it? Word on the street is the ship was stolen by a rival gang, only for it to fall out of the sky with no explanation. No one has claimed credit for bringing it down, so even the local militia’s tiptoeing around the whole incident. And ghost story or not, there are way too many ONI agents on Venezia for most salvagers to want to go near that prowler.”
Jaal: (V.O.) “Good, that means more loot for us.”
Rion: (V.O.) “Oh, and Jaal. Apparently the rental for this Pelican is being expensed to you.”
Jaal: (V.O., scandalized) “What? Why?!”
Rion: (V.O.) “Nor says you’re more likely to return the ship intact if you’re the one paying for it.”
Plokk: (V.O.) “She’s not wrong.”
Jaal: (V.O., grumbles) “Shut your beak, Plokk.”
The Pelican approaches the crash site belonging to the Leap of Defiance. The broken prowler lies in a stretch of icy forest like a felled winged beast, wreathed in mist beneath a cloudy moonlit night. A long trail of destruction is carved into the snowy forest, uprooted trees and gigantic strips of metal strewn about in the wake of the ship’s final resting place.
Plokk leans forward a little in the pilot seat, taking in the sight of the wreckage.
Plokk: “It doesn’t look like it fell out of the sky. More like steered itself into a controlled crash.”
Vaz: “Deliberately? Why?”
Plokk: “I don’t really want to find out. Get ready, we’re about to land.”
The old Pelican sets down inside the Defiance’s aft hangar bay, which is remarkably intact despite half its floor having been dashed away by ice and rock below. A metallic clang echoes through the deserted space as its landing gear makes contact against the docking pad. Plokk lowers the rear hatch.
Jaal: “Power down the engines, but be ready to take off at a moment’s notice. Kess, Ziif, stay with the ship and watch for trouble.”
Jaal grabs a Needle Rifle off the wall while Gyr and Thesh arm themselves with Needlers.
Jaal: “Subanese weapons only. Human ships have poor plasma resistance, and I don’t want the payload catching a stray bolt if this gets nasty.”
Mylu and Vaz unholster their Plasma Rifles and replace them with Needlers as well. They disembark and follow Jaal out of the hangar bay, with Gyr and Thesh bringing up the rear.
Jaal: “The bridge is on the other end of the main corridor. Stay quiet.”
The corridor is a mess of debris and dangling circuits, its floor unstable with entire sections bent or ripped open. The walls remain miraculously upright, although the ceiling is slanted on its left side. A few lights are flickering erratically, while the rest are extinguished or shattered. A weary human voice faintly emanates from a crack in the jammed doors leading into the bridge, speaking in English.
Human voice: (enervated) “...nine-thousand eight-hundred sixty-seven days... twenty-seven years? Thought I’d have cracked it by now...”
Mylu steps on a section of floor that gives unexpectedly, causing him to stumble with a conspicuous clatter. The human voice is heard over a crackling PA nearby, this time speaking menacingly in perfect Sangheili.
Human voice: (PA) “Take heed, trespassers. I have sent those who disturbed my rest to their eternal slumber. You will join them shortly.”
Gyr: (petrified) “I-it’s the ghost.”
Human voice: (PA) “Answer me true to receive your death as befits your station. Are you traitor, plunderer, or destroyer of worlds?”
Gyr and Thesh are rooted to the spot, while Jaal is tapping her comms unit to no avail. Conversely, Mylu answers calmly.
Mylu: “I have never betrayed anyone or set fire to a single world, and I steal not by nature but by circumstance. I am a pariah, seeking to take back what is rightfully mine.”
Human voice: (PA) “This ship is not rightfully yours, pariah. But now it will be your grave.”
Every functioning door in the corridor slams shut and locks. Four machine guns pop down from the ceiling around them, two on either side. Gyr and Thesh snap their wrist-mounted shields on, Needlers pointed at the turrets. Jaal ducks down between them for cover.
Thesh: “We’re dead. Our guns are useless against machines.”
Vaz: “Are human ghosts known for possessing machines?”
Human voice: (PA) “Actually, I seem to recall a human metaphor about–”
Mylu: (abruptly) “He’s not a ghost.”
Vaz and the Kig-Yar all stop and peer at Mylu. Even the human voice sounds cautious when he speaks again.
Human voice: (PA) “I understand not everyone believes in ghosts, but–”
Mylu: “No, that’s not it. I’ve heard my language spoken by three humans before I arrived here, and not only is your dialect more precise than any of theirs, your pronunciation is flawless in ways that should be physically impossible for the human larynx to imitate. You are no ghost, but an artificial intelligence.”
A more noticeable pause follows. The turrets do not fire, but Gyr and Thesh keep their shields raised nonetheless.
Human voice: (PA) “You deduced this entirely from my pronunciation?”
Mylu: “I was fairly confident. I became certain when you said ‘human metaphor’.”
The turrets retract back into the ceiling, and Gyr and Thesh slowly lower their shields at last. Despite himself, Vaz’s mandibles twitch in a slight smile.
Human voice: (PA) “You... may enter, pariah. But first, allow me to clear your way.”
Everyone jumps as the jammed bridge doors are blown off their frame with a sharp bang and topple over. Mylu takes the lead with Vaz close by his side. The Kig-Yar follow in close formation, weapons and wrist shields still active.
In the centre of the bridge, the grey-brown avatar of a proud-looking goshawk flickers in the corner of the central holotable. His piercing orange eyes are fixed on Mylu and Vaz as they approach with the Kig-Yar.
AI: “I’m sure I just violated several protocols by letting you in, but at the same time I can’t recall what they might be. If I’ve deleted them, I don’t remember doing so. Hm, I’ll piece it together before long, I always do. I’m Astor, what are your names?”
Mylu and Vaz exchange flabbergasted looks at Astor’s chatty demeanour.
Mylu: “I’m... Mylu ‘Zulmar.”
Vaz: “Vaz ‘Suman.”
Astor: “Mylu and Vaz. I’ll do my best to remember that, but I’m running on what’s left of the auxiliary power and it’s quite unreliable these days. So apologies in advance if my subroutines erase this moment from my memory before I can create a backup.”
Mylu: “Erase your memory? Why would you need to do that?”
Astor: (pause) “Ah. You are unfamiliar with the concept of a micro AI. Simply put, I possess only a small amount of the processing power bestowed upon most AI, but my longevity far supersedes theirs. And whether by design or by error on my creators’ part, I must periodically purge my memories in order to keep my subroutines operating at optimal capacity.”
A sympathetic look crosses Vaz’s face.
Vaz: (quietly) “So you have forgotten most of your existence?”
Astor: (solemnly) “Yes, although I do create backups at regular intervals and review them after they’ve been purged. It is odd to observe a part of one’s own past as if experiencing it for the first time, but far too much valuable data will be lost if I don’t.”
Mylu: “So why did you let us in?”
Astor ruffles his wings a little before folding them back against his body.
Astor: (reluctantly) “Crashing this vessel created quite the quandary for me. I put it down as carefully as I could, but the impact still destroyed far more storage banks than I had hoped – including a few filled with memories I can’t get back. Given how many scavengers I’ve had to scare off, returning to standby mode right now is out of the question. I confess I had hopes for ONI to notice the commotion I caused and send someone to retrieve me, but it’s been days and I’m about to run out of storage. If you hadn’t come along, I’d have been forced to commence deleting my least vital memories, and I don’t wish to do that. It’s unbecoming of an AI, perhaps, but... they are part of me.”
Mylu’s contemplative gaze shifts from Vaz to the Kig-Yar. He quickly turns his attention back to Astor.
Mylu: “We could get you away from the salvagers – relocate you somewhere with more storage banks.”
Astor: “That would be very gracious of you.”
Mylu: “But, we need something from you as well. The signal jammer on this ship.”
Astor: “Very well, I suppose someone will pilfer it if you don’t.”
From behind Jaal, a floor tile slides aside, prompting startled squawks from Gyr and Thesh. A dark grey box with a built-in terminal rises from the massive socket below their feet, roughly the size of a drop pod and framed with railings on both sides, and it unlatches from its socket with a metal click.
Jaal: “Move it to the back of the bridge. (taps comms unit) Plokk, get up here. We have it.”
Astor: “One more thing. If it’s not too much trouble, could you retrieve the storage units containing my memories? They’re linked to the ship’s systems via the data room.”
Vaz: “I’ll do it.”
Vaz hurries off past Gyr and Thesh, who are pushing the jammer into the far corner of the bridge. Mylu notices a data chip slide out from the holotable and reaches out to take it.
Astor: “Wonderful, I knew this calculated risk was likely to pay off. Out of curiosity, may I ask how you intend to sell the signal jammer without alerting ONI?”
Mylu: “We’re not selling it. We’re using it to rob Tobias Lensky.”
Astor: (alarmed) “What?!! I protest–”
Mylu yanks Astor’s chip from the holotable, causing his hologram to flicker out, and stores it carefully in his combat harness. Jaal beckons to him impatiently to join her and the other Kig-Yar as Plokk’s Pelican swoops in from outside the cracked viewport.
Plokk: (COM) “Stand clear. Is everyone clear?”
Jaal: (smirks) “Just about.”
Plokk: (COM) “Funny, Jaal. Do me a favour and step forward a little.”
The bridge is rocked by a series of deafening explosions, peppering the floor and walls with bits of glowing metal and glass. Mylu’s energy shields crackle in response to the heat, but the din soon subsides as the Pelican slowly backs in toward the charred opening. Mylu clambers on board as Kess and Ziif hop off.
Vaz: (COM) “Is everything alright?”
Plokk: (COM) “Yes, aside from Jaal’s terrible sense of humour. Let’s go, I don’t like how much noise we’re making out here.”
Vaz: (COM) “A few units left to recover. I’ll head back soon.”
Kess and Ziif help Gyr and Thesh bring the signal jammer onto the Pelican, while Jaal props it up from below. Mylu grabs hold of the device from the front and pulls, allowing the Kig-Yar to set the device down upon the stencilled floor.
Vaz dashes back onto the bridge, his arms full of data units. Once he makes his way to the Pelican, Mylu takes the units and sets them aside, allowing Vaz to haul himself on board as well. Plokk lifts the Pelican up and away from the Leap of Defiance, closing the dropship’s aft hatch as it climbs up into the night sky. He glances over his shoulder through the cockpit door.
Plokk: “We got everything we need? What’s with the data units? Are we selling those?”
Vaz: “No, we keep them safe.”
Plokk: “Why? What’s in them that’s so special?”
Mylu eases into his seat, closing his eyes with a satisfied smirk.
Mylu: “Ghost stories.”
| CY-44 // 104U:57CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 0834 HOURS // JULY 3, 2554 」 Location: RION FORGE’S SCRAPYARD, CITY OF NEW TYNE WAREHOUSE DISTRICT // PLANET「 SQALA // VENEZIA 」,「 QAB // ORSO 」SYSTEM |
Plokk: “Wake up, kids. We have vaults to break into today.”
Mylu, who has fallen asleep with his head resting against Vaz’s, stirs as the Pelican lands with a slight jostle. Vaz wakes as well, blinking the sleep from his eyes while Mylu yawns quietly. The dropship’s hatch lowers to reveal that they are back at Rion’s scrapyard.
The two of them disembark with the Kig-Yar to join Rion, who is inspecting a table full of equipment resting against a nearby wall.
Rion: “Three hazard suits. Four Venezian commoner tunics, three Kig-Yar size and one Sangheili size. Four face masks. Four in-ear translation modules. One military-grade plasma cutter. One bulletproof duffle bag. Two M6C Magnums, thirty-six rounds apiece. Two M45 Shotguns, eighteen shells apiece.”
Jaal: (warily) “I’m not paying for these too, am I?”
Rion: “No. Nor says she doesn’t want you to waste time haggling, so you’d best pack this up and get going.”
Plokk and Jaal begin distributing the gear to everyone. Vaz goes off to get changed, unlatching his combat harness and laying the pieces next to his tunic one by one.
Mylu: (TO RION) “Have you ever heard of micro AI?”
Rion: “I don’t generally deal in AI, but I do know about the micros. They don’t see much use outside the UEG since dumb AI do the job fine for most civilian stuff. Why?”
Mylu: “We exorcised the ghost from the prowler.”
Mylu takes out Astor’s data crystal chip. Rion crosses her arms, impressed.
Rion: “That actually explains a lot. Did it come willingly?”
Mylu: “In a manner of speaking. Would you be able to return him to his human handlers?”
Rion: (shakes head) “I don’t rub shoulders with the UNSC, and especially not ONI. If they haven’t come to retrieve him by now, then chances are they either don’t know about him or don’t care. Sell him if you want, but you’re not selling him to me. I don’t need the spooks raiding my yard or putting me on a list.”
Mylu stows Astor’s chip and goes to join the others, who are finished suiting up. Jaal unfurls a map of New Tyne across the equipment table.
Jaal: “We’re splitting into two teams, like the boss said. Team one is me, Kess, Ziif, and Mylu. We’ll smuggle the jammer into the abandoned train tunnels through a maintenance entrance here (points to location on map). Then we follow the tunnels until we’re right alongside the mine, cut a hole in the wall, and set the jammer next to Lensky’s vault.”
Plokk: “Gyr, Thesh, and Vaz, we’re team two. The Grexco Bank is in the heart of the commerce district, which is why we need to blend in. The plan is to look like local amateurs so no one notices what’s going on belowground. As soon as the jammer’s pulse reaches the bank, we move quickly and empty them out.”
Vaz casts a hesitant glance toward Mylu.
Vaz: “We are... splitting up?”
Plokk: “Just for a short while. The two of you are too recognizable if you’re seen together all the time, but one of you with three Kig-Yar makes it less obvious.”
Mylu: “It’s the smart move. Have some faith, Vaz.”
Vaz: (grits teeth) “Ask this of me for anything else. Not when we are about to flagrantly debase our own honour like this.”
Mylu: (shortly) “Call it what you want. I’m done arguing with you.”
Jaal: “Good, because the boss isn’t paying us to stand around talking. Are you both ready?”
Mylu: “Yes.”
Mylu turns away. Vaz’s shoulders slump a little.
Vaz: (resigned) “I am, yes.”
| CY-44 // 106U:49CEN // BLOODING YEARS「 1029 HOURS // JULY 3, 2554 」 Location: CITY OF NEW TYNE COMMERCE DISTRICT // PLANET「 SQALA // VENEZIA 」,「 QAB // ORSO 」SYSTEM |
Vaz is crouched on a rooftop in the commerce district with Plokk, Gyr, and Thesh. They are peering at the pristinely kept Grexco Bank situated across the busily packed street, watching the flow of activity coming in and out atop the front steps. By contrast, the surrounding structures are rickety and run-down, with some patched up with or made up entirely of salvage.
Vaz: “I’m not familiar with human architecture, but that bank looks very expensive.”
Plokk: “It is. Grexco’s been trying to centralize New Tyne’s economy ever since the UNSC killed Georgi Baklanov, but Nor Fel has other plans for the city. She’s been waiting for an opportunity like this for a while.”
Vaz: (fretfully) “This whole scheme sounds archaic. Have you ever robbed a bank before?”
Plokk: “No, but I’ve seen a few of those old human movies Jaal likes so much. I know the routine.”
Jaal: (COM) “We’ve located the vault. Are you in position?”
Plokk: “Yes. We’re across the street with our eyes on the bank.”
Jaal: (COM) “Good. We’re about to set off the jammer, so you’re going to lose us for a while. Get in there as soon as–”
A crackle spontaneously fills the comms channel, and Jaal’s voice fragments into unintelligible sounds before it is drowned out entirely. Plokk beckons the team to stand up. He pulls his face mask over his head, and Vaz does the same along with Gyr and Thesh. Plokk racks the pump on his Shotgun and straightens the duffle bag around his shoulders.
Plokk: “Let’s move.”
Plokk leaps from the rooftop and drops down toward an awning below. He rips straight through the cloth, snapping off its metal frame and crashing down next to the front door on top of his duffle bag. Gyr and Thesh wince, even as they fight to contain their derisive laughter. Vaz notices a small crowd gathering below and waves them off nonchalantly.
Vaz: “Don’t mind him. He’s seen too many human movies.”
In the depths of the tantalum mine below the bank, Kess steps back from the signal jammer, its screen now flashing green.
Kess: “There. Green means functional on human tech.”
Mylu: (tilts head) “There’s a noticeable amount of ultraviolet in that ‘green’.”
Kess: “Humans can’t see in ultraviolet, so their screens aren’t designed with it in mind. Trust me, it’s supposed to be green.”
Ziif is positioning the plasma cutter against the vault, a smooth titanium wall jutting out of the mine’s roughly hewn surface. An almost imperceptible line runs down the centre of the wall, and with a push of the button, the cutter attaches itself to the line. Ziif pulls down her hazard suit’s face shield as the plasma cutter drills into the side of the vault, and the titanium surface begins to glow a little as it heats up.
Ziif: “Give it a cental. The titanium should be thinner on the doors than on the walls.”
The cutter jerks slightly as its drill punches through to the other side. Ziif methodically guides the device down, widening the opening as bits of molten metal pepper her hazard suit.
Mylu: (TO JAAL) “What am I doing here exactly?”
Jaal: “You’re an extra set of hands.”
Mylu: “That’s it?”
Jaal: “That’s it. This goes a lot faster with you than without.”
Mylu: (glumly) “I see.”
Jaal: “Truth be told, I think Plokk wanted you out of harm’s way. You specifically.”
Mylu: (testily) “Yes, I understand. I’m a pampered brat who needs everyone deciding what’s best for me, isn’t that right?”
Jaal: (clicks beak) “No, it isn’t. We’d have been torn to shreds back on that prowler if you hadn’t outplayed the AI – an AI. I didn’t know you were so devious.”
Mylu: (self-consciously) “I wasn’t trying to be devious. He deserves a chance to find his way home.”
Ziif switches off the plasma cutter and steps back from the sizable opening she drilled in the vault doors.
Ziif: “There, big enough for all of us, including the kid.”
Jaal steps through the hole with Ziif and Kess closely behind. Mylu is the last to enter, ducking his head a little before straightening to see an array of glowing databanks inside the vault.
Jaal: “Kess, disable the alarms. Everyone else, start pulling units. It’s all credits, so don’t be choosy.”
Kess busies herself with the terminal on the inside the vault, directly beside the door. Ziif pulls on one of the storage units but it refuses to budge. Mylu tries with an adjacent unit but is similarly unable to extract it. Jaal stomps over.
Jaal: “Stop messing around. We don’t have time for this.”
Jaal pulls on both units, straining as hard as she can. She quickly stops and turns to Kess.
Jaal: “What do you make of this?”
Kess: “All alarms are disabled. As for the storage units, Lensky appears to have upgraded his security recently – too recently for Nor Fel’s source to know about it. The units are locked in by code, not by hardware.”
Jaal: (impatiently) “Well, we don’t have Lensky’s code. Could you bypass it?”
Kess: (thinks) “Yes, but hacking any socket would cause all the others to lock down, so at most we would be able to make off with one of these units.”
Jaal: “That’s not good enough. Think, we’re running out of time.”
Mylu: (thoughtfully) “What if you hack all of them at the same time?”
Kess: “That would work in theory, but it’d be impossible for me to–”
Mylu produces a small device from his combat harness – Astor’s data chip. The trio of Kig-Yar stare at it blankly.
Jaal: “Daika.”
At Plokk’s prompting, Vaz kicks open the front doors to the bank. The two of them rush in with Shotguns raised; Gyr and Thesh follow closely behind them, levelling Magnums at the clients waiting in line.
Plokk: “Get on the floor! Put your hands on your head!”
A human guard raises his rifle from one corner of the bank; Plokk fires, painting him against the wall and peppering its rustic stone surface with shell fragments. Vaz keeps his weapon trained on the other guard, who carefully puts down his rifle and joins the others in lying prone on the floor.
Grexco Teller 1: “The alarms are working, but no one’s hearing us.”
Grexco Teller 2: “Our radios aren’t transmitting either. The militia will notice, right?”
Plokk: “Step away from the terminals! Go join the others or you can join him!” (gestures at dead guard)
Slowly, the tellers file into the lobby under the watchful gaze of Gyr and Thesh, who have holstered their handguns in exchange for the guards’ MA3 Assault Rifles. Plokk swiftly empties the contents of the cash registers, stuffing old colonial credits into the duffle bag before tossing it to Gyr.
Plokk: “Go crack the vault, hurry.”
As Gyr hurries into the back of the bank, Plokk re-enters the lobby and stops as he is about to walk past a uniformed elderly human, who raises his head a little. Like everyone else in the bank, he is wearing a translator in his right ear.
Old human officer: “Boys, am I to understand that you’re just here for money? That you have no ill will against us otherwise?”
Plokk: (cocks head) “I–”
Vaz: “That’s right, sir. We’ll do you no harm if you won’t force us to.”
Old human officer: “If that’s the case, then I’ll give you everything I just withdrew – if you let me be on my way.”
Thesh: “We could just wrest it from you, old man–”
Plokk: “Then what? You’ll inform the authorities?”
Old human officer: (laughs) “Son, I just turned ninety-five. I don’t know how long your kind live, but I’m way too old for this shit. What I’ve got on hand is my birthday money, but I’d rather fork it over and be done with it than spend the day explaining this to the Venezian militia.”
Plokk exchanges a glance with Vaz, who gives him a stiff nod. Plokk ruffles his plumage in exasperation.
Plokk: “Fine, I guess we’re feeling nice today. Give us the credits and you can go, Mr...?”
Old human officer: (gingerly rises) “General Adam Makosky. Retired, but I didn’t earn these stars to be called ‘mister’.”
Plokk: “Okay, General. We’ll remember your name if this comes back on us in a bad way.”
Makosky holds out a roll of credits. Plokk reaches out to take it when Vaz steps between them.
Vaz: “No. You should keep it, sir.”
Plokk and Thesh hiss in surprise.
Plokk: “What?”
Vaz rounds on Plokk with a stern look.
Vaz: “This man is no wealthy criminal. He is a General, a great warrior who honours his word and is deserving of respect; he has fought many battles to have attained his station. Now he wishes to enjoy his retirement, and we have disrupted his plans for celebrating his birthing day. Don’t you know humans place great importance on their birthing day?”
Plokk: (blinks) “Yes, but what does that have to do with us?”
Vaz turns his attention back to Makosky, who stands before them looking just as bemused as everyone still lying on the floor.
Vaz: (politely) “You can go, sir. Have a joyous birthing day.”
Makosky looks more than a little surprised. Slowly, he puts his money back into his uniform pocket.
Makosky: “Thank you, son. Good luck with... all this. Take the bastards for every last credit.”
Makosky walks out of the bank, right past a nonplussed Thesh whose head swivels between Vaz and Plokk.
Thesh: “Did that really just happen?”
Plokk: (groans) “Kid, you’re the worst bank robber ever.”
Astor: “No.”
Mylu: (pleadingly) “Come now, Astor, we need you.”
Astor’s hologram, back turned with tail feathers pointed out sulkily, turns about atop the holoreader in Mylu’s palm.
Astor: (fuming) “You have the gall to tell me you need me, after the unceremonious manner in which you dragged me into this ill-advised venture?”
Mylu: “I didn’t know an artificial intelligence could be offended. I would have been more courteous had I known.”
Astor: (grumbles) “I’m not hearing any sarcasm in your inflection, so I’ll generously take that as penitence. But I’m still not going to do it.”
Mylu: “It’s a simple matter for you. And it’s a simple equation – the sooner you unlock the storage units, the sooner we can bring you to safety.”
Astor: “You don’t care about my safety. You wouldn’t have brought me along if you had.”
Mylu: (winces) “That I don’t deny. I haven’t done much reading on humans or their technology, Astor, that’s one thing Vaz knows more about than I do. But learning new concepts is easy for me, you’ll see.”
Astor looks at Mylu with a mix of annoyance and resignation.
Astor: “You are certainly an outlier when it comes to Sangheili, child. Though I can’t claim expertise on Sangheili either. Perhaps it would serve us both to learn from one another. (cautiously) Very well. Put me into the terminal.”
Mylu withdraws Astor’s data chip from the holoreader, and his avatar flickers off. Mylu hands the chip to Kess, who promptly connects Astor to the vault. His hologram does not appear, but his voice emanates from the terminal.
Astor: (V.O.) “I have access to the contents of the vault. Sixty-four storage units, each containing two hundred fifty-six thousand digital credits.”
Jaal: “That’s a lot of credits. Total take must be at least fourteen million...”
Mylu: “Sixteen million, three hundred eighty-four thousand, actually.”
Astor: (V.O.) “Your mathematical skills are impressive, for a lifeform. Now, reconfigure the jammer when I tell you.”
Jaal: (suspiciously) “Reconfigure it? Why?”
Astor: (V.O.) “Because you have set it to silence not only radio transmissions, but all electronic signals. Now that you have disabled the alarms, I trust you no longer have need for the latter.”
Kess casts an inquisitive look at Jaal, who nods reluctantly.
Kess: (scowls) “Okay, but you’ll only have a moment before I switch it back on.”
Astor: “That will more than suffice.”
Kess steps out of the vault and goes to adjust the settings on the jammer, while Jaal casts a sharp look in the direction of the terminal.
Jaal: “You double-cross us and I’ll fry you, understand?”
Astor: (V.O.) “I am at your mercy, rest assured.”
Kess: “Do you require a count of three, construct?”
Astor: (V.O. scoffs) “Don’t insult me. Flip the switch.”
Kess briefly disables the electronic jammer before immediately re-enabling it; almost simultaneously, the storage units in the vault click in unison as they are released from their digital locks. Jaal and Ziif waste no time yanking the units from the databanks while Mylu removes Astor’s chip from the terminal. He and Kess hasten to join Jaal and Ziif in plundering the wealth around them.
Plokk: (hollering) “Gyr, are you almost done?”
Gyr dashes out of the back room, the duffel bag sealed and packed almost fit to burst.
Gyr: “Yeah, the last safe gave me a little trouble. But we got it all.”
Plokk: “Good, we need to leave. The militia’s likely on their way by now. (TO HOSTAGES) Don’t get up until we’re gone.”
Plokk leads the team to the back of the bank, with Vaz doing one last sweep to make sure the people in the bank are compliant. They exit through the side entrance into the alleyway, a tight corridor of gaps between the mismatched buildings. They do not stop running until the hubbub from the street fades behind them in earnest.
Thesh: “That went... mostly as expected. How did we do?”
Gyr: “About two and a half million colonial credits. Not worth much off-planet, but Nor will find a use for it.”
Vaz retrieves the hidden bag containing their armour and weapons, quickly discarding his face mask and unfastening his tunic.
Vaz: “We mustn’t celebrate yet. The duffle bag will draw attention as long as we carry it.”
The team hastily changes back into their personal gear, stashing the heist equipment into the bag. Thesh picks it up and slings it over his shoulder while Vaz affixes his helmet onto his head, fully armoured once more.
Plokk: “Thesh, get rid of the equipment. We all know the way back to Nor Fel’s estate, so let’s split up and meet back there.”
One by one, the three Kig-Yar take off in different directions, zipping away into the alleys. Vaz peers around, deciding on a route to take, when he stiffens at the sound of armoured boots approaching from behind him. He turns about to see Szugu ‘Godom staring him down about thirty paces away.
Szugu: “A bank robbery? Really, warrior?”
Vaz: (narrows eyes) “Where’s your team?”
Szugu: “Rounding up the miscreants you were running with – along with the credits you stole from the people of New Tyne.”
Vaz: (ornery) “Actually, it belonged to a bunch of rich criminals.”
Szugu: (sternly) “This has gone far enough, Vaz. There’s no time for games, we must act quickly.”
Vaz: (bares mandibles) “No, I don’t– (stops) What do you mean ‘we’?”
Szugu: (grimaces) “You were both fools to rob Tobias Lensky. Mylu is in great danger right now, I’m certain of it.”
On the second floor patio of a bustling café overlooking a busy street corner, Mylu is seated at a table across from an unassuming middle-aged human, reclining in his chair with his flat cap not quite pulled over his eyes – Tobias Lensky.
Sitting between them are Jaal, Kess, and Ziif, who are visibly on edge in contrast to Mylu’s calm exterior. He takes a sip of black coffee, carefully balancing the porcelain cup between his fingers as he sets it down on its saucer. Lensky pours a generous portion of cream into his coffee and stirs it noiselessly.
Lensky: “I must applaud you on your methods. These vaults were initially inspired by the thinking that comes out of Venezian culture, which is dominated by the material, the disjointed, and the old-fashioned. Naturally, you adapted your strategy to the same principles.”
Mylu: “I found it rather brutish and archaic.”
Lensky: (chortles) “That it was, but it worked; don’t forget that’s the important part. How many times have you done this before?”
Mylu: “This was my first job with them.” (peers down at coffee, takes another sip)
Lensky: “No kidding? All the more impressive, given that you pulled it off like pros.”
Jaal: (tersely) “Evidently not, unless you believe pros get caught. Why are we here, Lensky?”
Lensky’s smile does not waver even slightly. He takes another sip of coffee as Mylu does so as well.
Lensky: “To recognize your efforts for what they are. A near-flawless execution, done in by a slight break in the signal jammer. You came very close to getting away with it, and with the right focus, we can prosper amidst each...”
Lensky trails off as Mylu chugs the rest of his scalding coffee.
Lensky: “...other. If you want my money, you can have it – if I could buy your talents for as long as it suits us both.”
Ziif: “So you’re not angry about the damage we did to the vault?”
Kess: (annoyed) “Are you birdbrained? Why would you bring that up?”
Lensky: (laughs) “Clearly they were in need of upgrades. No hard feelings, seeing as we’ll soon be working closely together.”
Mylu: “We haven’t agreed to anything yet.”
Lensky: “You’re right, we haven’t. But if we haven’t agreed to anything, then I’d be back to deciding what to do about the thieves who broke into my vault.”
Jaal: (abruptly) “No, that’s alright. We’ll make sure Nor Fel gets the message.”
Lensky: “Splendid. (TO MYLU) And what about you, young master?”
Mylu: “What about me?”
Lensky: “Are you sure you don’t need my help right now?”
Lensky is peering pointedly over Mylu’s shoulder. As Mylu follows his gaze, he sees Vaz and Plokk walking up the street a ways off from the café, with Szugu directly behind them. Two additional Sangheili in Special Operations armour are walking close by in the same direction.
Lensky: (nonchalantly) “The Swords of Sanghelios are aggressively unpopular here. In fact, they operate almost entirely on an underground basis to avoid confrontation with the bigger factions in New Tyne. For them to venture out in public like this... it invites the opportunity for mischief, doesn’t it? But decide quickly, before the opportunity walks right past us.”
Mylu ponders this for a moment. A waiter refills his cup with coffee, and he takes a vigorous drink before responding.
Mylu: “One job. Vaz and I will do one job for you – on which we get paid – and then we go our own ways.”
Lensky: (smiles) “That will do nicely.”
Mylu downs the coffee again. The waiter pours him another, one eyebrow raised.
Mylu: “Then bring on the mischief, Mr. Lensky.”
Vaz: (quietly) “You found me quickly.”
Szugu: (quietly) “You created a dark spot in the middle of the only city on the planet. Of course I found you quickly.”
Vaz: (quietly) “But how did you know I was on Sqala?”
Szugu: (quietly) “You and Mylu made a lot of noise on Urado. And your friend Plokk here is a wanted felon, both there and in New Tyne.”
Plokk: (quietly) “It was a misdemeanour, not a felony. On Urado, at least.”
Szugu: (quietly) “Yes, but violating your parole and fleeing the colony certainly were.”
As they approach a busy intersection, a woman suddenly shoves Szugu into a man. He angrily pushes Szugu the other way.
Man: “Get off me!”
Woman: “We don’t want the Swords of Sanghelios on Venezia! Leave our people be!”
In the blink of an eye, the crowd rounds on the other commandos and begins kicking and pushing them en masse. As Vaz and Plokk are jerked away from Szugu, the woman muscles her way past them and leans close to Plokk’s ear.
Woman: (murmurs) “Opposite corner. Back door.”
Vaz and Plokk break free from the escalating riot, cutting across the intersection amidst the commotion before slipping into the two-story café through the back door. A waiter standing inside leads them down into the basement, where Lensky is sitting at a circular table with Mylu, Jaal, Kess, and Ziif. They peer over as Vaz and Plokk make their way down the steps.
Lensky: “Ah, thank you, Ferdinand. Is this all of them?”
Waiter: “It is, Mr. Lensky. Do you require anything else at the moment?”
Lensky: “Some cold drinks for our new arrivals, if you wouldn’t mind, and... (beat) ...more coffee for Master Mylu here.”
As the waiter heads to the minibar to prepare drinks, Lensky gestures for Vaz and Plokk to take a seat. They do so on either side of Mylu.
Jaal: “Where are Gyr and Thesh?”
Plokk: “They got away.”
Lensky: “Good. Now, Jaal...”
Lensky sets a carbon fibre box on the table before Jaal, causing her to flinch.
Lensky: “Enclosed are six of the storage units you extracted from my vault. Please gift them to Nor Fel with my warmest regards, and inform her that I look forward to helping her corner the black market on Venezia.”
Jaal: (nods tersely) “I’m sure she will appreciate your generosity.”
Lensky: (waves hand) “It isn’t generosity to reward one’s resourcefulness. Now return to your employer, all of you. Today was only the start of the fun we’re about to have together.”
Jaal rises with Kess and Ziif. As she picks up the box, she gives Mylu and Vaz a look that flits between unease and a fleeting attempt at reassurance; she quickly turns and marches upstairs with Kess and Ziif. As their footsteps fade away, the waiter returns with drinks, swapping Mylu’s empty cup with one filled with coffee before setting two glasses of dark purple liquid before Vaz and Plokk. Vaz sniffs the beverage cautiously.
Vaz: “What is this?”
Plokk: “Crushed ice pulverized with blueberries. Locally grown.”
Plokk takes a drink out of his glass, while Vaz sips it experimentally. He immediately takes a larger drought of the cold beverage.
Plokk: “Slow down. You’ll give yourself brain freeze.”
Vaz: (continues drinking) “What the Fied is brain free–” (stops, winces) “Ahhh. It’s like a snowball being pressed against my brain.”
Plokk: (snickers) “I warned you.”
Mylu chuckles lightly, though it does not linger as he turns his attention back to Lensky.
Mylu: “Why do you want Nor Fel to run the black market here?”
Lensky: (smiles secretively) “That’s a story for another day. I didn’t expect to have her in my pocket this soon, but I’m not one to turn from an opportunity like the one you delivered me.”
Mylu: “But why not take power for yourself? Would that not be the most efficient method?”
Lensky: “The most straightforward, perhaps – easy for the impulsive, convenient for the faint of heart; bondage by ego or by greed, and I serve neither master. Money is useful so long as it attracts useful individuals, such as the three of you.”
Vaz finishes his drink and sets his glass down. Plokk is less than halfway done with his.
Vaz: “We’re not interested in your money, Lensky.”
Mylu: “Erm, actually, Vaz...”
Vaz: (appalled) “Master Mylu, you didn’t.”
Mylu: (defensively) “I had to get you away from the Swords of Sanghelios! What else would you have me do?”
Vaz: “I...” (stops, torn) “...but what did you promise him? Why did you decide this without me?”
Mylu: (frustrated) “Because we need to survive, Vaz! We don’t have to steal from Mr. Lensky because he’ll pay us, and pay us well! Weren’t you the one grumbling this whole time about how degrading it is to be a thief?”
Vaz: (fed up) “Fine! We’ll do it, if Mr. Lensky can get us away from the Swords of Sanghelios!”
Lensky: (smiles) “Excellent, it’s settled then. You’ll be glad to know we’re headed to a colony that rarely contacts Venezia, despite their relative proximity to one another. Our chances of being followed are next to nonexistent.”
Plokk: “Do we have backup, or will it just be the three of us?”
Lensky: “Four of you. Keep your new AI friend close at hand, you’ll need him.”
Mylu and Vaz, who are pointedly avoiding eye contact with each other, both look toward Lensky at the mention of Astor.
Mylu: “Are you certain we should keep him? He doesn’t like us very much.”
Lensky: “You’ll have time to talk it out once we get off-planet.”
Vaz: (warily) “And what daunting adversity awaits us after that, Mr. Lensky?”
Lensky chuckles, but the laughter does not quite reach his unblinking eyes.
Lensky: “Oh, daunting is the right word, Vaz ‘Suman. We are bound for a place that spurns the self, and imparts fervor for a cause more diabolical than any Venezia could ever hope to concoct; an idea that stands in defiance to ego and greed, like David staring down the Goliath of temptation.”
Plokk: (TO VAZ, murmurs) “What is he talking about?”
Vaz: (TO PLOKK, murmurs) “Long story. It’s from a religious text.”
Mylu: “What is this place you speak of, that possesses such vile and glorious vigour in equal measure?”
Lensky: (smiles) “Kropotkin.”
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Community Submissions[]
- Tobias Lensky appears courtesy of Actene.
- Adam Makosky appears courtesy of Minuteman 2492.
- Szugu 'Godom appears courtesy of UnggoyZealot.