Jard's Place seemed strangely out of
place in the central circle of Stardust Station. It was
a small office in the centre of the biggest and most
metropolitan area of the large Space Station. It was
surrounded by big shops, showing their wares behind
glass, using all types of gimmicks to draw the attention
of a passer-by. The result was a confusing mixture of a
myriad of competing stimuli, rarely registering as more
than background noise to anyone, who was not
specifically looking for something. Most shop owners
were aware of this effect, but using expensive exhibits
and advertisement it was part of being in the most
expensive area of the station, so they grudgingly
accepted it.
There where shops for weapons of all
sizes, from a small handheld ones, those mounted by
fighter and hunter class ships, up to turrets for
stations, asteroid strongholds or capital ships. Others
featured stylish furniture and a range of fashion
products, both worn and otherwise. Some even offered the
everyday wares of life, food and drink, in shining
trendy packages of course. Clarissa had done a little
calculation in her head some time and figured out, that
they had to spent so much money to pay their designers,
that the actual products had to be of weaker quality
than those available in the third and fourth circle,
which were the official shopping parts of the Station.
There seemed to be people who bought that type of stuff,
even though she rarely saw anyone. Maybe this was the
price of decadency.
A simple white sign with black letters
pointed to Jard’s Place. There was nothing else,
no indication what he did or why he had an office here.
Everyone on the station knew, he was the one who kept
everything running smoothly. He collected jobs for
mercenaries and gave them to those living on Stardust
Station. Most of the population of the station consisted
of freelancers. It was one of the last places in the
known universe not in the hands of the oppressive
megacorps. He also knew perfectly what every team or
single mercenary, depending on their style of work, was
capable of. The calm and elusive ethar was one of the
busiest men on the station, but everyone found him
alone, awake and at full attention, when they entered
his office, no matter what time of day it was.
The entrance was relatively small for
Stardust, so that some of the bigger creatures living on
the station had to squeeze through, but even beings
three times as massive as the tall human looking female
fit through. The room on the other side was plated with
wood, real wood, something no-one else on the station
had. It was lit by lamps with clearly visible positions,
giving it a pleasant atmosphere. Most of the rest of the
station was illuminated by strangely diffuse white light
lacking any visible source. The floor of the room was
covered in a thick black carpet, muffling the sound of
the female’s steps. In addition it seemed to be
able to stand anything that stepped, slithered or
otherwise moved on it.
A large oak table blocked the third of
the room Clarissa faced from the entrance. Only an old
fashioned bell and a single 2D Screen were placed on it,
making it appear even bigger. On the wall behind was a
door and a number of flat screens, or a big tiled
screen, showing typical jobs for medium range
mercenaries, the most common type. Jobs at either end of
the scale, both those for beginners and those for
professionals were only given to those Jard knew
deserved them for several reasons. Beginners Jobs where
designed in a way, that they allowed a good deal of
stupid mistakes before turning lethal, while extremely
difficult jobs could only be done by mercenaries of
according skill. The reasons for the station’s
success was their reliability record on getting almost
everything done, Jard’s discretion and his
incapability of remembering who was behind a job. That
did not mean, that mercenaries were not killed on a
regular base.
Jard was lazily sitting in a chair, as
usual, when the woman entered his shop. He could not
hide a smile for several reason. She always wore
extremely revealing dresses in her spare time, which
never went beyond good taste. Today she was wearing a
short dress with a fairly big décolletage and
knee-high boots with quite long, needle-thin heels. She
knew precisely, who to spark a man’s imagination
and desire. Jard loved her anyway. She moved with a
stalking cat-like grace, that made obvious, that messing
with her was not a good idea. There was never a fraction
too much in any way she moved, all in perfect control
beyond any human the ethar had ever seen.
Over her right shoulder the handle of a
bastard sword was visible. On her belt she wore an
unremarkable gun. Jard knew she had build it herself. It
was a masterpiece of precision and efficiency. It was a
sniper pistol with adjustable energy shots from stunning
to melting a complete ogre in a heartbeat, or take down
the shield power of a small space ship. In front of the
massive female, Jard seemed small, even though he was
more than six feet tall, which was quite a lot for an
ethar. His own skin was bluish instead of rosy. His ears
ended in notable points instead of being rounded.
Somehow her seemed almost unhealthily slender. He could
move in ways that would break a human’s bones, but
he rarely did so.
Clarissa knew the ethar was member of
an ancient, mysterious and powerful race, whose
influence began half a galaxy or so away from human
space. He seemed deceptively harmless, but she knew that
ethar were anything but harmless. She had seen a few
examples of his lethal skill, when she had watched him
deal with unruly customers from behind the tiled screen.
He was at least lethal as herself, and she was
considered the best and most dangerous individual on the
station. Jard was beautiful in an odd, exotic way no-one
could truly explain. She knew many female mercenaries
did not care for men, at least if you asked them.
Clarissa knew better.
"I could bet you have a tricky job
for me", she said. He nodded and said:
"Sure." He picked a small black box from below
his desk and put it into the female’s hand. She
picked it up and hid it somewhere beneath her dress.
"Security Sealed? That must be something
exceedingly hot." He nodded and said: "I fear
that this bastard, Kilarth, will follow you. He always
seems to know. I cannot stop him." Clarissa knew he
could, but she also knew we he would not. Dealing with
annoying competition was her job as a mercenary. If he
were competition, it would be a lot easier to understand
his motivation, but so far he had done nothing but
annoying her, probably trying to kill her a few
times.
"You could spend a little more
time with me", he said. She nodded and said:
"I could say the same about you, but I had a lot of
work to do. Reprogramming the batch of Goldfire droids,
improving my ship. You know what I mean?" He nodded
and said: "It is not like I would not have liked
your company, but you cannot leave your office for any
length of time. I guess you could not do your job
without your time singularity." He groaned and
said: "You will give away the secret of my success
sometime." She smiled and sat down on his desk,
facing the door. She crossed one leg over the other and
said: "When I survive this one."
She leaned back, letting her hair fall
down and revealed her perfect shape to the ethar’s
knowing eyes. "We should definitely spent more time
with each other." For some reason she decided to
moan. He smiled at her and said: "Maybe, but soon
everyone on the station will know." She shrugged
and said: "How do you think it is possible to keep
something as obvious as our relation secret in a place
the size of Stardust Station?" He shrugged and
said: "Long enough, I hope." Clarissa nodded
thoughtfully and closed her eyes, simply relaxing and
feeling good for a few heartbeats. She opened her eyes
with an uneasy feeling.
Quickly she leapt from her place,
rolled over the floor and ducked against the wall. Jard
absently noticed, that she leaned precisely against his
magical walls, without bumping into them. She was a
sorceress herself, so she probably had arcane senses.
Not much of a surprise considering her lineage.
Clarissa’s eyes narrowed slightly, revealing
something reptilian about them. She looked through the
corridors visible for her, but she did not find whatever
had aroused her suspicion. Relaxing a little, she left
the office, not forgetting to flash him a last inviting
smile. Jard had not seen anything, but he had felt that
something was wrong and ethar could trust their
feelings.
This time it might lead to some real
trouble, so he left the room and crossed his residence,
which was build directly into the hull of the core. He
quickly checked his crystal fighter and cut away some
hindering parts that had grown in the long time he had
not used it. He heard the bell ringing in his office and
turned to quickly arrive. Clarissa was simply the best
mercenary he had ever met. Alone she could do things
impossible for most teams. Why did he not just admit to
himself that he seriously loved the exotic and powerful
woman?
A moment before he opened the door to
the office, he cleared his thoughts and banished
everything that might be in the way of his job with a
sigh. This time a dirty and rough looking man with many
cybernetic parts of doubtless quality and tastelessness
was waiting for him. He avoided a sigh, looking at him.
Few mercenaries were as pleasant to be around as
Clarissa. None of the killers ever dared attack him,
because those who did showed massive scars, if he had
let them live at all. Ethar could turn their fingernails
into terrifying claws within moments, and grow lethal
fangs.
Clarissa smiled. She thought about her
beloved Jard. He loved her, but she wondered, how long
it would take him to realise it. In spite of all, even
she needed a few constants, and people she could trust
in a world of constant strife, change, conflict and
uncertainty. Slightly amused she wondered, if Jard had
relations with anyone else but her. A few other females
did look good enough, Angel, Shair, Silver, and of
course herself, the Black Dragon. All were rare
exceptions among the people of Stardust Station. Most
mercenaries where quite unpleasant people to be around,
trying to seem as tough and dangerous as they could to
hide a lack of ability. In addition many felt the
necessity of increasing their physical abilities using
implants.
The female wondered, how many actually
wore the implants for effect and how many simply to
appear more dangerous. Muscle cords and chrome parts
were cheap and ridiculous. Everyone knowing enough about
cyberware knew that this type of implant was dangerously
unreliable. In a business, where split seconds could
mean the difference between success and death, even
minuscule malfunctions were lethal. Successful
mercenaries were in top mental and physical conditions
and worked hard to stay there. Clarissa herself trained
both space and ground fighting in sweat-soaking
practices several hours every day she was not in
space.
She had even practised and sparred with
Jard a few times, realising that he was at least her
equal in almost everything, probably even more skilled.
Not that this was awfully surprising. Ethar had decades
to hone and perfect their skills, where humans had only
years. He had mentioned at some point, that he was
married to a woman. Maybe this kept him from realising
his love for her? Why did no-one else on a station know
of this relation? She had access to any Information
available and talked to about anyone of influence, so it
was unlikely she did not know. If she found out, she
might have to kill someone. On the other hand, it might
not be a good idea doing that. After all it might
anger...
The same uneasy feeling, that had
interrupted her reverie in Jard’s office stopped
her train of thought. A slight difference to this event
was that the feeling was more urgent, more direct. There
was something seriously wrong. A slight change in the
lighting in the corner of her eye confirmed her
suspicion. She leapt to the floor, rolled to the side
three times and got up to kneel behind a metal crate.
Blinding beams of light flashed overhead and a few
rebounded off her cover. She reflexively deactivated the
locks of her heels and hid them beneath her dress.
Quickly calculating the direction of the attackers, she
drew her gun.
Ozone lingered in the air, the
fragrance of battle and melting steel. Muttering a curse
she looked at a circular hole in the wall, dripping
fluid metal that hardened on its way down the wall to
leave bulging outcroppings on the otherwise smooth metal
surface. Melting lasers where forbidden on board of
space stations for obvious reasons. When they punched
through walls, the affected area would instantly
decompress. For operations smaller than Stardust it
usually meant the death of the whole crew and anything
else on board that needed to breathe. She sighed and
adjusted the energy of her gun to instantly kill
humans.
Unfortunately she had not been the
target of the attack. The sounds of battle had moved
away from her and she could not see the flashes of laser
fire. Most likely they would burn through the walls of
this section before she reached them, but she had to
try. Without hesitation she started to run, deciding to
reach the next outer ring of the station on her way. She
did not wear a space capable suit currently, so running
would be a better idea right now. It was still a race
against time to reach the next connection corridor,
before the decompressing section was sealed off to
prevent damage to other parts of the station.
Being as skilled and experienced as
Clarissa had its advantages. She tapped her wristband
communicator and quickly connected to Jard’s
office. "Melter attack at Section November Five. I
am trying to exit before it decompresses." She did
not expect an answer, now running at full speed. The
exit might be guarded, but she doubt that any post would
expect an outright frontal attack. There was a certain
risk of course, but she was willing to take it. She was
not one of the most dangerous people in the known part
of the universe without reason.
Good thing she had done away with those
high heels, so she could run faster. Speed was of
uttermost importance now, so she started to amplify her
physical capabilities almost without noticing. Faster
than most competitive runners genetically engineered by
the corporations would ever be, she soon reached a
corridor containing an airlock. As she had expected, two
sentries where placed there, drawing her guns with
obvious surprise at seeing her. Clarissa rolled over the
floor, while their attacks went harmlessly wide. They
where clearly nervous and had not aimed well. She was
not going to leave them time to recover.
She sheathed her gun and drew her sword
instead. The attackers would have a harder time to
realise its energy source, because it was a magical
weapon. A blade of a strange silvery colour, reflecting
its surroundings like a mirror was the core of the
weapon. It was adorned by a set of jagged teeth made
from synthetic diamond, their edges as sharp as a razor
blade, they pointed in a variety of directions from the
blade to inflict even more brutal wounds. The blade
could cut through almost everything, including energy
shields.
Possibly the guards had hit her, if she
had not rolled, as the heat of the laser beams and the
foul smell of ozone lingered in the air. She almost
reached the guards and her sword flashed like
lightening, decapitating both in a single stroke. The
heads started to circle away, but suddenly their way did
not seem right and they slammed into the wall and
rebounded instead of falling. Both bodies where still
hanging, where they should have started falling. Blood
streamed from them in a string of dark red bubbles
floating aimlessly through the air. Gravity should not
yet fail in this corridor.
She used her free hand to reach for her
wristband and activate the magnetic fields of her boots.
Clarissa continued to run. Red lights started to flash
at the end of the corridor. Someone else drew a gun at
her, but the female was pathetically slow, so she was
simply chopped into two at her belly. More blood floated
into the corridor, but for some reason none of it ever
reached the mercenary. In front of her the distance to
the door had increased. She cursed in a foul sounding
language, that one would expect to come from the throat
of a fiend. She was never going to make it in time.
Within the darkness a group of mystics
was chanting in unison. Slowly the heavy choir
reverberated through the hall and echoed back to them,
increasing its intensity. After some time its strength
pierced the fabric of space and time, making stars whirl
around a slowly expanding black disk. It kept steady
with the strength of the singing voices. Several more
robed figures where waiting to step in for any who
collapsed from exhaustion. Maintaining an artificial
wormhole was a serious drain on even the most powerful
sorcerers.
There was an echo of the black disk
near a space station. It was a longer distance away,
than it was supposed to. Obviously the station was
heavily shielded from magical attacks, which did not
make the venture easier. The wormhole was centred to
create an effect distorting reality surrounding the area
of the victim. No-one thought about the person they
wanted to kill in a different way. It was an absolutely
perfect plan with no chance of escape. Until the first
mystics died.
New ones quickly jumped in and picked
up the chant, but they started to waver and notes of
discord stole into their sinister song. Slowly the
stability started to waver, while several heads burst,
spilling blood and slime into the room. Something was
resisting them, or at least some of the effects they
created. The resistance was not based on the wormhole.
They had been prepared to counter anything striking it.
It must be one of the side effects, by another circle,
or by someone incredibly powerful. The last of the
reserve stepped into the circle, but the spell had
started to waver and they would not be able to maintain
it any longer.
The leader of the mystics looked over
the scene grimly. It might take years to replace those
he had lost with equal replacements. Finding people
devoted enough to become mystics and loyal enough to
survive his trials were rare and far between, so he had
to do something else. He shook his head at the wavering
chant and picked up a communicator. "Boss", he
said softly. "I hate to bring you bad news, but
something has gone wrong. We can only maintain the
wormhole for more than five minutes or so." He did
not wait for the answer and joined the circle himself,
so he could even fulfil the promise he had given.
The corridor itself already started to
disintegrate. Support beams moved like coiling snake,
winding themselves from their places with the screeching
sound of tortured metal. A moment Clarissa thought, it
was a simple misconception caused by the lack of air,
but why did she still feel the breeze in her face? In
addition all of the walls started to flow in waves, as
though they where made of a fluid material instead of
solid steel. At the end of the corridor the door became
a blur of motion and colours defying the very fabric of
reality.
Gritting her teeth, Clarissa took
another deep breath, probably the last before she
reached safety. The wind meant that the hull had already
been punctured and the precious air was already leaking
into the void beyond. Slowly she closed her eyes,
envisioning the closing door as she had seen it in front
of her and started to run. She was vaguely familiar with
this type of distortion magic, so she had an idea, how
to counter the effect at least for herself. After some
time, she looked again, seeing the door in front of her.
The corridor wound like a struggling eel, but she barely
noticed, concentrating on the opening ahead.
Several times the door leapt away from
her, but she finally managed to reach it and leapt
through the hole. She rolled over the floor and almost
slammed into the second door of the airlock, only
catching her momentum a heartbeat before it was too
late. Behind her the massive steel door slammed shut,
sealing off the disintegrating part of the station.
Clarissa took several moments to steady her breath and
heartbeat before she activated the second door. It
opened painfully slowly, but she waited for it to allow
her easy passage, because she was unwilling to waste
more energy than absolutely necessary.
A warning light that this airlock was
occupied had attracted the attention of a local gang.
Clarissa was not surprised at all, knowing that these
circles of the station where owned by gangs. The diamond
razor edge of her sword was still active, circling
around the metal core with blinding speed to rip easily
through everything it touched. This was one of the
infamous territories of the outer rings of the station.
It was not the outermost ring dominated by hangars, but
the one owned by the lower classes and their brutal
gangs.
Torn pieces of rusty metal where
carelessly piled up near the walls. Wires, plastic parts
and glass shards completed the desolate collection of
debris. There where several hiding places among the
piles of refuse, for people as small as rats. Only the
hum of cheap machinery was heard in the deadly silence.
The gang stared at her and the weapon in its ghostly
silence. Not comprehending the intricacies of
swordsmanship, they did not know that the mercenary held
it ready to strike. She did not do anything else. Only
the hint of a dangerous smile curved the corners of her
lips, but she doubted that the gang would get the subtle
hint.
One central rule about passing gang
territories was pretending to be at home there. Giving a
displaced appearance was a sure recipe to invite
trouble. Clarissa was a tall and imposing figure, even
without high heels she was almost a head taller than
every single gang member, even though a few might be
tall enough to reach her nose, if their cyberware
allowed them to walk upright. No-one talked for a very
long time, knowing that doing so would be admitting
loosing a contest of willpower. Unlike the official
passages to the outermost ring of the station, this was
deepest gang territory. Clarissa knew she would have to
fight her way through.
When the female considered the
gang’s equipment, her expression changed to hint
at a smirk. All of their implants were of the cheapest
type, close to completely malfunctioning, but they wore
them like badges of rank or medals of honour. A few gang
members thought they where particularly sneaky and
activated electric discharges into her direction. The
energy was harmlessly dispersed by the wire system
within her dress. All upper class clothing was delivered
with a set of protective measures against typical
day-to-day hazards like light electricity and abrupt
changes of temperature. None of the equipment on the
gang’s bodies had any real value and was in many
case completely useless. Most likely they were ranked
among the scavengers.
Finally the gang members could not
stand the silence any longer. "Where do you think
you are going with that fancy weapon?", someone
asked. "Home", Clarissa said matter-of-factly.
Her voice was bare of any hint of emotion. It started to
occur to the gang, that they might have made a serious
mistake. "Actually we want its energy cell."
Clarissa said: "It is a magical weapon." The
edge stopped moving. It did not slow down or change its
behaviour in any slow way. One moment it was spinning at
full speed, a moment later it stood as though it had
never moved. "I do not use a motor in a melee
weapon. Magic is simply more reliable."
Her smile became a little more visible
and her eyes narrowed slightly, making them appear more
reptilian. There was a strange glimmer in her eyes, as
though they were incapable of missing something, or even
blocking out unpleasant sights if necessary. One of the
gang members became nervous and fumbled with something
in his wrist. A rocked was revealed from its interior
and pointed at a completely undisturbed Clarissa. The
mechanism threw sparks and the rocked refused to leave
its place. The panicked man started to fumble with it,
but it had just been welded into the metal ring holding
it. He stared around wild-eyed and spouted a string of
incomprehensible words.
Other members of the gang moved away
from him. The sound of a burning cord was all that was
heard for a moment, then the corridor shook from the
thunderclap of a massive explosion. A blinding white
flash was followed by a yellow fireball spitting
scorched flesh, blood, shards of bone and steel like
shrapnel. When the flames died away, a mark of soot and
molten metal hardened again was all that was left of the
unfortunate man. For some reason the explosion had not
done any harm to Clarissa, but most of the gang members
had dived for cover. Many who had not had been hit by
some of the hot flying shrapnel. "Class N nerve
activators have a tendency to malfunction nine out of
ten times. Class K launch rings are not awfully reliable
either, while class A warheads always do their
work", Clarissa noted in a bored voice.
Her eyes narrowed even more. No, it was
her pupils. They slowly narrowed into slits like those
of a reptilian creature, of something dangerous. Fear
made the gang shiver and cold sweat flowed from the
heads of many. Clarissa sheathed her bloodstained sword
and kept on standing for some time. Ancient fear of a
creature both mysterious and powerful crept into the
minds of the men and the woman of the gang, who were
already on the edge. Slowly those not completely frozen
shied away from her, trying to being as much distance
between themselves and this dangerous woman. Several
stumbled over debris.
Slowly she stalked through their midst.
Two gang members she closely passed collapsed to the
floor, their system unable to stand the fear. Several
were driven into frenzy and attacked her. She stabbed
the first attacker’s throat, ripped out the second
attacker’s metal arm and kicked the third into his
genitals, before anyone realised she had moved at all.
Sparks fizzled from the ruptured cyber joint, while the
other two sunk to the floor, trying to catch their
breath. Clarissa slightly turned her head to have a
quick view of everyone. "Anyone else looking for
trouble." She caressed the handle of her sword
almost casually. Her tone was friendly and unassuming,
but the gang felt as though every single syllable was a
whip hitting them repeatedly.
Every surviving gang member shivered as
though they were suddenly exposed to the merciless cold
of one of the dreaded ice worlds without any protection.
Cold sweat trickled down the heads of everyone. Clarissa
disappeared in the darkness of the corridor. An eternity
later the gang finally shook off their dread and started
to move again. "I told you it was a bad idea to
mess with Black Dragon", someone said. The current
leader said: "She does not even have any
implants." Another voice noted: "I doubt she
needs any." The leader finally said: "We
should not mess with professional mercenaries.
Considering all, we are quite lucky. We have only lost
four." Everyone sighed and disappeared from the
place.
Clarissa lived in the outermost ring of
Stardust Station. Her place was directly built into the
outer hull of the station. She owned a hangar and repair
crew of her own, something almost as prestigious as
living in the innermost circle. Among most inhabitants
of the station it was even more respected, as the
mercenaries and other fighters lived in this area of the
station. Clarissa’s estate was one of the most
spacious on the station, easily rivalling that of a
merchants. Her halls where filled with spare parts,
repair equipment and even a number of combat droids she
had captured during her career and reprogrammed to guard
in her absence. There were not many mercenaries who
could afford a place this massive.
She walked between the two guardian
droids, who melted almost seamlessly into the wall,
while the door closed behind her. Clarissa told the two
droids to lock it and continue their watch. Actually
they could not do anything but stand watch and react to
attackers, because they did not have the AI necessary to
do anything else. She used a mishmash of mechanical,
electronic and magical security, that had been unusually
difficult to set up, because magic and microelectronics
did not mesh awfully well. Clarissa’s estate
contained several living quarters for a crew and a
spacious, comfortable one for herself. Her operation
kept almost a hundred people busy, who worked
exclusively on her team.
Another door left her into her bedroom.
She wondered for a moment, why she had not bothered
mentally undressing any male team members she had seen.
There was simply too much else on her mind. Her meeting
with Jard might also have something to do with it.
Clarissa shook her head and dropped her clothes
carelessly, absently noting the mesh of wires and
absorbing substances, which were part of any decent
dress these days. It had become so natural to her, that
she did not even notice that it existed, when she did
not look for it. There was a ringing noise somewhere in
her room.
A ringing noise?
She sighed and looked at her wrist
communicator. She ignored it for the time being and
thought about the melter attack and the subsequent
battle with the gang waiting for her. There had to be
some correlation between both of them, even though the
band seemed to be surprised by her appearance. A normal
person could not have made it through the distortion.
Most likely the original attackers had hired several
cheap local gangs to make escape impossible. They did
not hunt Clarissa, so they did not include her abilities
into their plans. Who was behind the attack, and who was
supposed to be killed by it?
With a sigh she tapped the
communicator, because the vibrating part of the alarm
had become unpleasant on her skin. For a moment wondered
if she should push it between her legs, only to discard
the thought. She removed it and plugged it into her
network computer system. Clarissa kept all sensitive
data in a computer disconnected from the rest of the
network. A few moments later Jard’s face appeared
on the screen. With an amused smile she redirected the
camera, so it would capture her face, or maybe a little
more. She was sure Jard did not mind seeing her nude.
Ethar never did.
"I have been trying to reach you
for more than thirty minutes", he complained to
her. She shrugged and said: "I have been using a
number of mystic powers on my way. They might have
messed up the communicator." He said: "You
should be a little more careful. Your skill still has
the roughness of human magic, but you may be older than
me." Clarissa said: "I had the choice of
teleporting or stabilising the area against another
mystic to reach the exit. Since I assumed that someone
who goes to the length of massively destabilising a big
area of the station would also ward it against magical
transport, I chose the second instinctively." She
could see Jard’s eyebrows move in an odd way.
"I though that some of the
distortion was caused by lack of air, but my dragon
blood allows me to survive in vacuum for several minutes
before I start to be in serious trouble. Enough time to
do something about it. I had to force myself through
massive resistance. I feel like I have been fighting for
hours, almost as though I have struggled against a whole
circle of mystics. They must have been distracted by
something else, or I might have been forced to expend
far more energy than just that." Jard nodded and
said: "You are right. I felt the incredible power
softening the fabric of space myself, but I think the
distortion was more like an side effect of something
else."
Clarissa nodded and said: "There
was welcoming committee on the other side of the
security airlock. It was not an awfully powerful gang,
more like scavenger or vermin level. Not much of a
problem for me." Jard looked at her somewhat
amused. With the exception of himself she was more than
capable of defeating anything living on the Station.
Even the highest classed gangs in particular tries their
best to avoid a conflict with the dangerous female, for
no other reason than simple self-perseverance. "It
was a serious waste of mystic energy", Jard said.
"I am not talking about your effort, but theirs.
Simply summoning a few walls of energy of steel would
have done the same job a lot more easily. Only humans
can come up with this type of waste."
"I think it did its job pretty
well. Didn’t you say yourself, that it was only
the side effect of something more insidious?", she
said. "What is sacrificing a whole circle of
mystics worth?", she asked. "I mean only to
get rid of an individual, no matter how dangerous they
are?" She shook her head. "It looks more like
a hunt for a combat druid or cyborg. Most human
technology fails in a field of massive mystical energy.
It would also explain why they used melters."
Clarissa said: "I think it was a distortion of
space and time, almost like a wormhole." Her voice
trailed off and she seemed to drop the thread. "It
was definitely a team of attackers. I guess it was
either a corporate hit team, or a mercenary who works
with a number of underlings."
Jard nodded and said: "We had
known of this, if it had gone through my hands, but it
did not. I think there are one or two completely
independent mercenaries who have teams and resource to
organise and attack of this size." Clarissa nodded
somewhat absently and said: "I will hack around a
little in your computer system." Jard nodded and
she turned the display to computer mode, banishing her
lover’s face into a small window in a corner of
the screen. She looked through all the material the
cameras had recorded during the attack. It was no
surprise, that the attacker’s clothes were in
truth disguised space suits. Something was odd about the
whole image, she thought.
Slowly she replayed the movie and
stopped it several times. None of the metal fragments of
the disintegrating corridors seemed to slice through the
attacker’s bodies. They all hovered in a single
area of space and moved to something insubstantial and
black, hiding the star field. She made the computer zoom
it for her and saw that the field surrounding the black
area was strangely twisted, as though it had been
condensed and turned quickly. After some time the men
disappeared through the hole. After a while the
distortion in space unwound and faded into nothingness.
It was almost too soon. Clarissa could not hide a wicked
smile.
"They created an artificial
wormhole to disappear through", she said after
returning the screen to communicator mode. "It
looks like their task was summarily executing someone or
something. They were wearing disguised space suits, but
that goes without saying." Jard nodded and smiled
at her. "The speed of your work never fails to
amaze me. Have you recognised the team?" She nodded
and said: "It was a mercenary team. Icestar and his
gang to be precise. He is infamous for his merciless and
brutal attacks, but this does not fit his style."
Jard said: "He always leaves a bloodbath behind,
were he works. Do you know him?"
Clarissa nodded and said: "He is a
little paranoid, but he is not as bad a man as his work
suggests. People seem to get into his way, but I believe
he something like a natural loner. He can only stand any
company for a short time. It is not like he is a
particularly unpleasant man, but he is very paranoid,
even more so than any other mercenary, who works
alone." She shrugged. After a few heartbeats, she
asked: "Kilarth was not destroyed by any
chance." Jard shook his head and said: "He was
somewhere at the other end of the station during the
attack. If by accident or not, I cannot say.
"He was here a short time ago. It
seems I cannot keep him from going with you, but this
man is trouble. His presence makes even more
‘unnatural’ warning bells ring in my head
than a cyborg usually does." Clarissa nodded and
said: "Sometimes I think he is a twisted copy of
someone who already hated my in my lifetime. I do not
know who built him, or why, but I could bet he was
created to kill me. I guess he might try something on
this job, but let this my problem. He is not nearly as
good as he thinks he is. Let me sleep now, will
you?" Jard nodded. She turned the computer off and
dropped into her bed.
"Who was really behind the
attack?", she asked aloud. Clarissa had forgotten
her active communicator, so she heard Jard’s
voice. "I think we should start trying to find out
what has been destroyed, or at least supposed to be
destroyed. My team should have most of the fragments
now. The footage makes pretty clear that they did not
take anything with them. When we are done analysing the
stuff, we can take a look at current politics and maybe
find out what is going on." Sleepily she said:
"Maybe we should increase our magical security to
prevent another attack. People usually sent fiends to
kill me. Maybe you can find something in our computer
system."
Jard groaned and said: "Of course
you are going to leave me alone, trying to hack through
our massive network. Not that I have not done so before,
but I just do not like doing so." Clarissa shrugged
and said: "You are not awfully good at it either,
but remember that someone has to get the jobs done, or
you are not going to see an awful lot of money. I mean
only the big jobs get you serious provisions." She
smiled and said: "Good night and good luck. You
need both." He groaned, but did not say anything
else. He needed a massive amount of skill, luck and time
to get it done. Finally both turned their communicators
off. Clarissa curled up in her bed and closed her eyes
to sleep.
"What are you going to need,
boss?", one of the men asked. "Load the ship
with an equal number of explosive, EMP, phase and
corkscrew missiles. All equipped with target seeking
equipment." He nodded and hurried into the hangar.
Clarissa looked at her mission profile. She had to
capture a Dryntrakar transport and retrieve its
information. There might be a special bonus for
delivering the ship. It seemed fairly easy, even though
the escorts were not specified. Most likely not even
Dryntrakar had decided on it before they launched.
Nothing that would pose an awfully big problem for her
skill and ship.
She might need an army to conquer the
ship itself. The number and types of battle droids it
had loaded was quite specific. Clarissa walked to her
training hall and saw her troops were in peak condition.
The commander approached her and said: "We are
training a lot, but many become restless." She
nodded and said: "There will be work for you soon
enough. A corporate war is brewing and I would be a fool
not to make a healthy profit from it. The commander
nodded and said: "Do you need us today?" She
shook her head and said: "The margin of this job
does not allow for launching the transport. I will have
to use what I can take with me in my hunter."
"Damn droids again?", the
commander asked. Clarissa nodded and said: "They
are nothing compared to well trained and equipped
people, but hunter class ships usually support only one
person. Besides it would be even more jam-packed than
the transport and you do not really want any of your
fighters to suffer that." She smiled and said:
"You might soon enough see more action than you
like. We had an assault on Stardust yesterday. Just do
me a favour and follow Jard as you follow me, when he
needs your help. He is as good as me and you can trust
him." The commander looked thoughtfully after the
mercenary’s beautiful form. What bond tied Jard
and her together?
"Any problems with the
ship?", Clarissa asked the head mechanic. She shook
her head and said: "Nothing we can find, but its
more advanced technology than any of us
understand." The mercenary nodded and said:
"The Goldfire Predator is the hottest piece of
hardware in the known stars." She walked to the
ship and her fingers quickly moved over the touch
screens and displays. Finally she nodded and said:
"You are right, everything is all right."
Clarissa did more complex repairs herself anyway,
because she did not even trust her own team to fiddle
with her ship, except probably Jard, but he never
bothered.
The Predator was a slender, beautiful
ship. Even turned off, its lethal powers were obvious.
The three sets of wings where like fins of a shark, each
holding a triplet of guns, plus a pair flanking the
cockpit. The ship’s golden shining hull reflected
the lights of the hangar. It was a cleanly polished and
particularly smooth alloy, highly resistant to energy
beams directed against it, even if the shields failed.
Usually the Predator was unavailable on the free market.
Only Clarissa’s connections, influence and skill
allowed her to get one.
Only Clarissa’s connections and
influence allowed her to get her hands on one. She
looked at it calmly and smiled at her team. "Good
work", she said. The ship was equipped with four
sets of weapons, each of which had their own energy
source. Pulse lasers, high energy lasers, phase
disrupters and even a pair of the legendary thunderbolts
made up the armament of the ship. Only few mercenaries
knew that thunderbolts where more than a legend. These
magitech weapons alone where incredibly devastating in
their effect. It was the most dangerous and versatile
ship currently existing.
"Load the two Spider droids into
the cargo bay. I am running for information, but I might
have to fight my way through a horde of those steel
bastards to get it." Her team moved quickly to
follow her orders. Finally she said: "Leave me now
and raise the shields." The hangar quickly emptied
and the massive steel walls were rising from the floor
with the hum of heavy machinery. Clarissa leapt into the
cockpit. It started to close above her as soon as she
was sitting. A gentle thud and the sound of
decompressing air signalled that the cockpit was
sealed.
Clarissa’s hands moved quickly
over the familiar controls of her ship. The engines came
a live with a very specific hum. The female quickly
moved her hands to the controls and the central console.
She was soon cleared to launch. Clarissa never had to
wait for a long time, because she had a very high
priority. Blue-white fire was burning in the exhaust
ports of her ship. The ship started floating as the
hangar’s artificial gravity was turned off. Three
lines of burning fire shot from the ship’s engines
and hit the shielding walls, spreading over them,
caressing them with its glow. A few of the team members
behind the massive windows in the next room still ducked
out of the way, even though they knew there was no
danger to them.
The ship shot through the first portal
of the airlock. It slammed shut as soon as she had
passed and cut through the flames. The second gate was
open several seconds before she reached it, then she was
expelled into space and the airlock was sealed behind
her. Quickly the outer ring of the station gave way to
reveal all of Stardust’s slowly circling station.
It did not circle for gravity, but to give its
inhabitants the illusion of light and day. Most people
seemed to go insane sooner or later without the cycle of
light and darkness.
Far away from any inhabited planet of
human owned space, the station was literally in the
middle of nowhere. Beyond the station was only an
endless ocean of white dots, in several places
accentuated by mists of far-away galaxies. Not even the
most advanced technology currently available allowed
travel along those vast distances, at least not within
reasonable distance. She assumed that someone had
already traversed this amount of space. The ethar came
to mind. It was said that people could go insane
watching the endless cosmos. Clarissa did not understand
why.
She quickly made her computer calculate
the jump to flatspace. She loved few things as much as
the stars circling and turning around her in the heat of
a heated battle, or when she leapt to flatspace to cover
distances few languages had proper words to describe,
even those of civilisations having settled space
centuries ago. There where several ways of travelling
between the stars. Most common where hyperspeed
acceleration and warp fields. Next where worm holes and
black portals. Once they had been called black holes,
because they absorbed all light and defied all sensors
created from technology.
Flatspace was the most unique way to
travel. It might be called a dimension, but people with
lack for a better word always called something that did
not make sense by that name, until they found a better
one. Most theories explained almost everything by adding
spatial dimensions, or other types thereof on occasion.
Scientists often denied even the possibility that
something like flatspace could exist at all. They had
been wrong several times before. Travelling faster than
light was supposed to impossible, but most spaceships
could.
Clarissa was not awfully fond of
science in general. She had lived for more than a
thousand years, since before humans started to settle
space, something that was supposed to be impossible, but
all ethar lived at least as long. She wielded powerful
mystic powers, that no-one could properly explain in a
scientific context, and most likely no human ever would.
All magitech devices on Stardust were ethar technology,
which was based on magical components. Probably
flatspace was not even a place, but another way of
looking at the known universe.
Reptilian eyes narrowed over the
controls, when Clarissa realised they where only
displaying multicoloured noise. Had she forgotten
something? Was something wrong with the ship's computer
core? Some hacker had invaded her system in a way it
could not warn her? Before she could find an answer, the
displays returned and displayed the same lines.
"System Check. Done. All Systems functional. Fully
fuelled." Clarissa smiled in spite of herself.
During her contemplation the ship had done a full system
check, as she had programmed the computer. It would not
take long now. The path had been defined and the jump
generator was starting.
Some bastard had to interrupt her
peace, right?
Groaning the mercenary looked at the
face in the intercom. "Greetings", the man
said with false politeness. "Another day, another
fight?" She looked at him, as though she would tear
him to pieces, if they where in the same room. After a
moment she regained control of her expression, but her
reptilian eyes were still sparkling dangerously. She
slammed the transmit button with her fist and said as
calmly as she could: "I could do better without
you, bastard." It had always been surprising that
he did not leave a trail of slime behind him, when he
walked, because he moved as though he was made of the
substance. "I do not think I am flying into your
way."
Indeed. He did not fly into her way,
because he actively tried to kill her. He had not even
managed to scratch the shields of her ship, but she knew
she had to get rid of him permanently soon enough. She
did not trust him at all. Mercenaries never really
trusted each other, but they had a certain respect for
other who were successful in their way. He wanted to
kill her, but she did not have the slightest idea why.
Looking at the screen she wondered again, if he had been
created from the personality matrix of an old enemy, she
had some problems getting rid of in her career. He did
not seem to match any of them. She had to check any
possible connection in her database, when she
returned.
Less than a heartbeat was required to
draw the power she needed. She hit the transmit button a
little more gently than the last time and said: "Do
me a favour and get lost forever, will you? I thought
you would not, so you will have to die." She
released the button and looked at the screen with some
disappointment. Cyborgs were not properly alive, so they
were not affected by death magic the way a living being
was. Unfortunately she could not transmit electric
spells through the connection of space, at least not
without destroying her own ship’s computer core.
Well, there was always that spell called disintegrate,
if everything else failed.
An explosion of scintillating colour
burst from the ships core and tore through all of the
ship, seemingly ripping it to pieces from within. The
mercenary grimaced as the shock wave raced through her
body. She felt like a monster truck's wheel was rolling
right over her, while someone pushed a very hard item
through all of her body. Then it was gone, everything
was quiet, almost too quiet. Only the ship's flatspace
engines hummed softly. She was within an expanse of
watery liquid the colour of reddish slime. Bubbles
appeared out of nowhere and burst with a gentle ripple,
for a moment warping the alien star field visible
through the surface.
While the ship slowly made its way
through this alien ocean, Clarissa leaned back lazily.
Stars shimmed through the surfaces, as though she was in
a sea with surfaces on either side. The very reality of
this place denied the laws of physics. It seemed to be
just as large as necessary to accommodate her ship,
constantly flowing and changing. In spite of the almost
constant sparkle of the stars, reality itself seemed to
be fluid, heavy with what was, might have been and might
yet be. An undetermined world, full of possibility. It
was like riding on a wave of possibility, where even the
most improbable events or chains thereof made sense.
Almost as though she was riding the weave of magic
itself.
In spite of its appearance, flatspace
was two-dimensional. Only the incapability of her mind
to turn this fact into a perception that made sense
created the illusion of depth. Maybe it was magic. It
would explain why there where only very few engines
capable of making the jump. Only two corporations where
capable of producing magitech, items created by the
difficult, but rewarding, process of merging magic and
technology into a coherent product that did its job.
There where simply too many maybes surrounding
flatspace. She knew it existed and got her where she
needed to be, which was all that really mattered to
her.
Some distance away a few dark holes
passed by, as though someone had burned a hole into a
piece of paper. These where the signs of far-away
systems, marks that seemed small, but where relatively
large in size as things in flatspace went, possibly
giant class suns. Clarissa turned and wanted to lean
back again. Instead she cursed. "Holy gods of the
planes", she said. "What is this?" The
computer system did not answer. Except for the most
necessary functions they where dead within flatspace.
One of those holes loomed in front of her. It was jagged
and irregular, pointing at a very odd system or
something artificially created.
Usually she used the flatspace journey
to relax, because there was simply nothing to see here.
It constantly changed and shifted like water. The hole
in front of her remained almost constant, as though it
was a large, slow moving object. She would now if it was
a young star system, because the birth of a new sun was
something rare and precious, that everyone would know
about. The whole place would be crawling with ships from
everywhere and the most curious would get fried, if they
moved too close to the expanding sun. In real space.
Only suns and those travelling in flatspace left an
impression there. The only exception she knew was
Stardust Station. What was waiting for her in the middle
of nowhere?
She would find out soon enough.
Within the other spacecraft, Kilarth
closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on slowing his
breath. He was hyperventilating for a reason he did not
know, but he somehow felt, he barely escaped death.
Another look at his controls did not make the
realisation easier. He had been unconscious for at least
five minutes. The female was far more dangerous and
resourceful than he had expected. In addition there was
not a trace of her hyperacceleration indicating where
she had gone. Watching the explosion of an impossible
number of colours another time did not help either. She
had just vanished as though she had...
"Flatspace!", he shouted at
the computer. Impossible. Flatspace was a tale told to
children and anyone else incapable of understanding vast
distances. A two-dimensional place to travel vast
distances did not make any sense. Kilarth stared at his
displays again, struggling to stay calm. There had to be
a more logical explanation, one that made sense. He
still could not think properly, his artificial mind
confused by whatever she had done. If he could not make
sense of things soon, he might get into real trouble,
system malfunctions and probably even an emergency power
down.
"Leave this area of space
immediately", a voice from his intercom said.
"You are blocking traffic." The man cursed and
quickly scanned through his mission profile, while the
auto pilot manoeuvred him out of the way. He hated
having to do this type of work himself. Missions where
not important to him, he just followed Clarissa and
tried to kill her. He growled at the computer and said:
"I do not care for the mission profile. I only want
its position, so we can make the jump." The
computer produced a few lines of being annoyed and spat
out the co-ordinates. "Auto-pilot", he
ordered.
While the ship accelerated, he leaned back and felt
the energy plug of the ship slowly enter his energy
receiver and started to recharge him. He would need a
lot of power in the coming battle. Clarissa was not some
bloody beginner, she was a pro and one of the best.
"Computer", he said. "Reactivate me, when
we make the transition to tactical speed." There
was a short affirmative message, then Kilarth leaned
back. He imagined all the wonderful horrible things he
would do to her, once she was at his mercy. Slowly his
systems began to deactivate until finally even his AI
shut down.
