The Wild Ride

A grizzled old mercenary sits in a back alley bar on a backwater frontier planet. Sharing drinks and stories with an old friend. After a few cigars and a couple of drinks the mercenary’s friend asks, “How's work been for you lately, Stoag?” 

“Oh hell Alfonso, the last job I was on was a real Gurnn damn ride,” replies Stoag the merc. 

“Couldn't have been as wild as that zick on Quinterra, back in the old days,” Alfonso says with a glint of trauma and nostalgia in his eye.

“So I get a call from my fixer, Dredge. Great guy, gets me good work, gets good info, all that. He tells me to meet him at a bar on Drev Theta; real dive kinda place just like this one. I get there; find my boy in a private room, as usual. 

Now Dredge has put some bad teams together, but I thought he'd out done himself this time. We had a Luxcite: silver skin, real tall and skinny guy, like y'all usually are.” As Stoag says this Alfonso flexes. He’s also a Luxcite, but is packing way more muscle than most due to his mutations.

Stoag continues, “So this Luxcite; he's some Symposia scholar from the damn Hegemony, born with a gurnnish gold spoon in his mouth. So what the hell is he doing here? Next team member was Ovid. Another Luxcite, but this one was real quiet. He looked like a frontier man, but honestly seemed pretty dense in the head. Then there was the Okkot; massive ripped lady in Trill Tech heavy armor wielding a warhammer. Alf I don't even think you'd win in a brawl against this girl. 

Alfonso scoffs jokingly, “You must be getting dementia old man. You forget when I out-boxed a gurnn that had four arms and 24 inch biceps?”

“Are you still telling that old tale?” Stoag replies laughing. “Well no matter who would win, the Okkot was great muscle. But with the size of her we'd be seen from a damn light-year away. Last we had Nyota Perry, yes THAT Nyota Perry. She's come a long way from being an Adrinn Media Guild movie star. I knew she'd been blacklisted by the Guild, but I didn't think she'd fallen far enough to end up here. She wore a shiny silver dress and stiletto shoes. I'd be lying if I said she didn't look damn fine.”

Alfonso laughs, “Hell Stoag, I'm surprised you're still kicking after doing a job with this group of amateurs” 

“I thought the same shit when I saw that group of jokers, but it gets worse. I talk to Dredge, bitch about the team, and this is when he tells me this ain't no legal Happy Hunting Association bounty. This is a damn illegal assassination mission.” As Stoag says this Alfonso's eyebrows raise, but Stoag continues. “Someone wanted to hire us to take out a guy named Dr. Trent. An Azure Corp scientist who ran some horrible bioengineering experiments on people and then sold them to the Marlax Slavers. They couldn't get enough evidence to convict him of breaking interstellar law, and the Corp was keen on keeping Trent covered. Dredge said his contacts all told him the doctor did it, and I trust him. But I told him there was no way in the void I was doing this job, with this team. But my tune changed when he showed me the pay and told me the plan. 

It happened that an Azure Corp executive was throwing a big banquet on his space yacht: The Palanquin. Dr. Trent was expected to be there, and Dredge was able to find out where his room was going to be.”

Alfonso asks, “How'd he know where dude's room was gonna be? That's deep intel man.” 

“There's a reason I trust the guys info Alfonz. You think I'm a fucking amateur here? Guys probably got the hookup on data brokers. I don't ask, as long as the zick’s good I'll keep buying.

The exec was apparently a big fan of Nyota so she was our ticket into the banquet. We'd be allowed to keep our weapons since me and the Okkot were posing as her security. The Luxcite; Ovid and the Heg born (Heg is short for Hegemony and pronounced Hedge), they were considered her entourage. Once we were in she'd keep people excited and distracted so we could do the job.

The Heg (hedge) born; he was our hacker. Guy had a masters in computer tech and a bachelor's in robotics. He could use his pocket com to hack into the yacht’s computer systems. Open doors for us, keep an eye on cameras, and turn off Trent’s security bots.

Ovid’s got high tech weaponry: Wells laser pistol and an Elacter electricity pistol. The Okkot is obviously the muscle. She definitely had that job covered, and thanks to Nyota she wouldn't appear completely out of place. 

Everything was going to plan. Nyota got us in and provided a fantastic distraction as fans flocked to her. The Heg born quickly hacked into the yacht's systems and got us to the elevator going up to Trent's room. 

Alfonso chimes in coyly “But something always goes wrong; especially, on jobs like this one.”

“Yeah I'm getting to that part. We exit the elevator and are walking down the hall to Trent's room: me, both the Luxcite, and the Okkot. Suddenly alarms, and frantic tapping and typing from the Heg born on his pocket com, ‘They found me on their private network. I've been locked out of their computer systems,’ he told us. 

I was pissed, this guy had failed at his only job and we'd all pay for it. We ran to Trent’s door. Locked up tight with an electrical lock. Quickly the Heg born pulls out what I recognized as an electrical lock pick. After what felt like an eternity he said, ‘almost got it. Get ready for the door to open there's bound to be security robots.’ 

We got prepared. The Okkot got in front of me and Ovid. Her heavy armor and wide stature gave us great cover. As the door opened there were three security robots that immediately opened fire on us. The Okkot took the shots, her armor soaked them up so she was just fine.

Ovid used his Elacter pistol to shoot one of the bots with bursts of electricity; stunning it at first and then frying its circuits. I'm not so fancy, I just pumped one's head full of enough lead to leave it in smithereens. The Okkot, she immediately swung her warhammer to take out the last robot's legs, and then smashed it with a downward slam. We made swift, easy work of those security bots, but we weren't prepared for Donovon Trent.

Apparently Trent knew how endangered his life was and had Azure auto-aim cybernetics installed. Before any of us could react, his Omaz pistol shot the Okkot in the head with extreme precision. Okkot flesh may be tough, but it couldn't stop a tungsten bullet. Her brains were sprayed across the wall. I knew before me or Ovid could get a shot off one of us was gonna be just like her: brains splattered. We simply couldn't keep up with his enhancements. 

Before he got another shot off a small object flew between me and Ovid from the doorway, and lodged itself into Trents throat. Blood poured from the wound as Trent gurgled and choked on it. It was a stiletto shoe lodged in his neck, a stiletto shoe that saved me and Ovid. I turned to the doorway to see who else but Nyota Perry standing there barefoot holding her other shoe at the ready. ‘Job done,’ she quipped.

This moment of relief was short lived as we all remembered that the alarms were going off and the whole yacht was now on lockdown. We were supposed to kill Trent with no one noticing and walk out the front door without a care, but here we were… completely screwed, absolutely cooked. 

As I was freaking out, Ovid nudged me and pointed to an elevator in Trent's room. The Heg born said, ‘this elevator should take us to the hanger bay.’ I go to the elevator and tell the crew it needs a retinal scan to work. I turn around and this heg born fucker is pulling out Trent's cybernetic eye. He got it out but electrocuted the hell out of himself because he was rushing. Killed all the nerves in his arm. You should've seen it man; his arm was flopping around like a damn fish. 

I cursed at him, took his eye and opened the elevator. As we rode down the elevator I looked to my crew and said, ‘this is it; home stretch. It's gonna be hell in here; security all over. Heg born I know you've only got one arm, but you have to get the hanger doors open. If they don't open we're all dead. You and Nyota follow behind me and Ovid, and stick to cover like glue. We just have to make it to the ship.’ 

We could've tried stealing the first ship we saw, but it could be tracked and who knows if we'd be able to get it running.”

Alfonso interrupts, “Is the ship that same old ass gonked freighter you've always had?”

Stoag replies, “The same reliable freighter that has saved my ass, and yours, a dozen times over!” And continues his story “The Heg-born activated his hardlight shield and struggled to work his pocket com. The doors opened. Immediately we were under fire. We moved slowly from cover to cover. Behind boxes and ships. I saw the Heg born’s shield absorb some shots and he didn't even flinch. He was zoned in on his pocket com. 

Eventually we made it to: MY RELIABLE FREIGHTER! The securibots were closing in on us and the hanger door was still closed. I told Ovid to man the ball turret quickly. I took the helm, and he opened fire on the security bots. I yelled ‘this is it Heg born, now or never!’ After a few minutes the hanger door opened. 

We took off into space, heading to the nearest hyperlane.”

“And Azure Corp had some fighters waiting for you, didn't they?” Alfonso chimes in.

“You bet your silver ass they did. Whole squadron of ‘em. I yelled, ‘bogeys incoming!” I took the main gun, and Ovid covered our ass with the ball turret. The ship took a lot of damage. Ovid was almost killed by a missile that destroyed the turret. But we made it to the hyperlane and jumped to a new system; outside of Azure Corp space. Got the hell out of there and got paid. 

I won't be going to Azure Corp space anytime soon, but I never much liked it there anyway.” Stoag finishes as he puffs his cigar.

“What happened to dude's arm?” Alfonso asks.

“Oh, he got himself a cybernetic one now. I think he likes it more than the original,” Stoag replies.

“Space yacht, evil scientist, and an army of Azure Crorp securibots; that does sound like a wild ride man… but I still think Quinterra was crazier.”

“Oh you nostalgic ass, it always comes back to Quinterra with you.”

A man in an impressive suit barges into the bar; escorted by jet black security bots. Poshly he announces, “I'm looking for Lawrence Samuels. Who also goes by the pseudonym: Stoag. He is wanted for crimes against the Azure Corporatocracy!”

“We're up Lawrence” Alfonso says with a smirk as he puts on his Tungsten Knuckles and activates his hardlight shield.

Stoag brings out his revolver, pulls back the hammer, and replies, “Just like old times.”