Evander opens the side doors of our Reaver and we jump out. My boots hit the ground hard and I get a feel for the local gravity. It’s a little big heavy for my liking – and that’ll make close combat weapons less useful, while making long-distance firearms more effective. That’s the exact opposite of the Aurelian style of combat – and reduces the edge I’ll have against any of the local population who might decide to cause trouble.
Two humans are waiting for us. Behind them are an army of technicians. My dislike for these humans is instantaneous. One of them is lean, with a wiry physique and mustache that’s waxed so elegantly it suggests vanity. The other is short, even by human standards, and carries a potbelly.
“Welcome to planet Reena,” the mustached man bows slightly. “The city of Lipa welcomes you.”
My eyes scan the hanger bay for any potential sign of ambush. I can at least tell that the technicians aren’t combat trained. Military men dressed up as mechanics would stand differently, move different and feel differently. I trust my instincts.
“They’re civilians,” I telepath to my triad. Evander and Augustus trust my judgement, but none of us relax. Not yet.
I still feel like we have the edge – even if these humans are planning to betray us. I’m close enough to the leaders of the group – the mustached man and the short one – that even if they suddenly gave snipers the order to rain laser fire down at us from a hidden vantage point, I could still rip both their throats out before I died. I wouldn’t even bother reaching for the Orb-Sword at my belt – such treachery would deserve death by my bare hands.
Evander stands before the two men, towering over them both. The two men stumble back a few paces in fear. It disgusts me. I have no respect for sycophants.
We need to reach the boss of their outfit if we want to make true moves in this place. To do that, though, we need to get into the heart of his territory. We need to earn his trust.
“Do what you need to do,” Evander growls, gesturing towards our Reaver.
The man with the mustache snaps his fingers and the technicians descend on our Reaver like a swarm of insects. They’ll find everything in order as they examine it.
We’ll make a fortune for this sale, but it still leaves me uneasy. An Aurelian Reaver, powered by a full Orb and with twin Orb-Beams, would be a powerful addition to any army. This ‘Peter’ character will instantly become the most well-equipped gangster on the entire planet.
“You’ll find everything in order,” Evander repeats. The two humans nod nervously. I know they’re as eager as we are that their technicians don’t find any problems – because they know it would get ugly if we weren’t given what we were promised.
For five long minutes we stand in silence – until the lead technician scurries over and addresses the two aides.
“Everything is in order. This is a brand-new Aurelian Reaver. Barely been used. Hasn’t even taken a single las-cannon hit, and no repairs have been made at this point.”
The two aides share a glance. The one with the moustache finds his courage. “A brand-new Reaver? So, you three didn’t serve in the Aurelian Army for long?”
“Our service doesn’t concern you,” Augustus growls. The technician cringes and falls back as his words echo through the hanger bay. The mustached man swallows nervously, and nods.
“We didn’t mean to offend.” He snaps his fingers. “Your payment.”
We asked for payment to be in solid cash – not in credits that could be traced back to us. The local currency is something called the Ire, and we’re familiar enough with it to know they won’t try to screw us by exchanging counterfeit money.
As Augustus nods at the mustached man, one of the subordinate technicians scurries out of sight – to return moments later with a steel case that he opens with shaking fingers. Inside, neatly stacked, are massive piles of high-denomination bills.
I’ve been trained since birth not to show emotion – but even my eyes widen as I gaze upon all that money. It will be more than enough for us to live like kings here – for years, without ever having to earn more.
But we do plan on earning more. Much more.
“Did they fuck us?” Augustus demands through our Bond.
Evander says nothing. He drags the case in front of him and carefully counts the bills. Each stack of bills is an inch thick; and they contain an oily liquid sealed between the sheets, which we know of to be a highly-effective anti-counterfeiting tool.
“Good.” Evander’s voice is dry, as he snaps shut the case and throws it casually towards me. I snatch the heavy case of the air. It’s substantial, even for me – and I’m many times stronger than a human.
I don’t mind that, though. I don’t like having one of my hands full, but as I feel the heft of the thick case in my hand, I realize it could be used as a weapon if that’s what it ever came to.
A weapon. A makeshift weapon.
Seemingly unrelated, I suddenly get a flashback of the horrors of that underground Scorp nest – the one we’d foolishly been sent to clear, and instead barely escaped with our lives from.
The one that had driven us to go Rogue.
My mind flashes, as I remember red, red eyes staring at me through the darkness – tinged with a shade of electric blue.
I’d seen Scorp before. These were different. Even in comparison to the regular, nine-feet-tall, snapping monstrosities… These specimens were the most fearsome beasts I had ever encountered.
“Come back to us!”
It’s Evander’s voice, clear in my mind. He felt my fear through the Bond and tried to draw me away from it.
The sound of
