V M Archaeotech Avarice

[Ridley]

The Trip to Erde Nona was about as quick as the minimum amount of money could buy. Which was to say, that bastard Lizard had got me into a cargo case. It was insulting, but with my mechanical body, it also wasn’t much of a pain in the ass, honestly. I had sensors but no nerves as a result of a bad run-in with the hunter, right at the start of her illustrious career.

Had a few after that too, of course, but when you’re already a cyborg up to the braincase, there’s no more physical scarring even a monster like that can give you. Not while the neurons still fire, at least.

Still could simulate a grunt as I sat straight up in the steel coffin he’d boxed me in. Life sucked, but I had a job to do, and if it’s what I had to do to survive, I’d even listen to the angry lizard again.

I pressed a few digits on my arm console, the soft ting of my metallic digits slapping against the device, and Ridley’s first missive came up. Text, this time, but I didn’t have to read much these days, short of moon runes. A quick mental download, and I was awash in new information.

Apparently, the fugly bastard had met up with a new terrorist group. ‘The true heirs’

If I had a mouth, I would’ve laughed. Jesus, what a fucking joke. Another group of assholes whining about ‘true bloodlines’, like they didn’t know Nobility had an expiry date like everything else. Still, it was exactly this type that tended to cause said expiry, so he might actually accomplish the goal one day.

Maybe Ridley agreed, given the old bird had given me a job to assist ‘em. I doubt he had any interest in helping their “noble cause”, but he was certainly willing to profit of the destruction they’d leave in their wake, so he was likely stoking the fires. Anyone pissing off galactic civilization left him with fewer lasers ready to blow a hole in the backside of his spaceship to worry about.

Regardless, they had something of interest hidden in these parts. Foundries. Ancient archaeotech factories that Anders Nazret figured could bring him an army to bring Arcadia to ruins. I wasn’t sure if he was right, but it wasn’t like he was withholding pay until he found out.

Besides, the idea of a factory that created lost technology, hidden among the ruins of arcadia?

Sounded an awful lot like the sort of thing I could get into and, potentially, defuse whatever bomb Ridley had stuffed somewhere in my chassis. It was a long shot, of course, but you missed a hundred percent of the shots you didn’t take, and if I missed mine, well, I was going to be a glorified busboy for the angry lizard until my brain finally smoothed out.

Still, baby steps. For now, my job was just to head to the hinterlands, in a place not too far from Shimosa…

Huh. wonder why that was noteworthy detail for the extract. Probably something the lizard planned for later.

Gebrocen plains. Odd name, given the amount of cliffs and rivers running across the place. Beautiful to the average tourist, I guessed, but I wasn’t the type for “Nature’s wonder’, and my mind raced with all the places I could get ambushed on the way, once the ship dropped down.

Or rather, ‘now that the ship had dropped down’, as the System Runner set down hard. The box I was in smacked against something, and I was sent sprawling out across the durasteel surface with a metallic screech, as cargo boxes flew off around me from the hard landing.

I pushed myself up to my feet with a groan.

“Either he set down because we’re under attack, or I am killing that pilot.”

651/5000 words

 

[Ridley]

Getting out of the cargo bay wasn’t too hard. a few moments of system diagnostics, and a knock on the bay door. Which, of course, didn’t lead to anyone bothering to unlock the thing. That was alright - there was a reason space pirates invented the energy scythe, after all. A quick slash through the lock, and a few good punches from my robotic fists for good measure,and I cracked the thing open without much work.

Standing outside, and hearing the familiar crackling of fire, I didn’t have to guess why there was no one to deal with baggage. It made itself apparent immediately.

I ran out to the front of the ship, not out of concern for the pirate, but to see if I couldn’t stop the damn thing from exploding before the cargo was done. I wasn’t here for brownie points, but I figured if I could offer a ship’s worth of salvage, it might curtail my Loan shark’s ire for a little while.

Of course, there wasn’t much left of the front of the ship, and the door I found had already been sealed shut by the heat. Even so, a quick sensory reading told me that it wasn’t too hot for my chassis to handle, so I just slammed the thing open with a hard boot.

Inside I found burned bodies buried under hot rocks. Magma. Now I had a mystery. I didn’t have an answer off the top of my head for magma getting it’s way into a spaceship.

Activating my scanners with a quick set of mental commands, I focused on the most melted Terran on the ship - it looked kind of like a sculpture, if you avoided the places where flesh poked out. No blood, so I assumed it all melted, and Covered in unnatural bumps - these were noticeable even before the scan completed.

The Terran itself was more like a mixture between obsidian and parchment, but this was cooling rock forming across its skin. Not just fire, then.

Analysis dinged.

subject appears to be covered in several fluids, and thirteen pounds of heated rock. Subject died of cardiac arrest thirteen seconds after heat exposure. Processing additional variables using majematics.EXE add-on…

Majematics? Did Ridley mess with my code? That wasn’t good. Who knew what the hell else he got his cavalcade of freaks to install…

Well, a bomb in my chest, for one.

Scan complete. Analysis shows magical constants. Energy-based, consistent with standard arcane patterns. Standardized patterning suggests a natural function. Minute presence of Ki detected. Hypothesis: Magical effect likely a by-product of Respiratory function.

I put a metal hand to my head, not giving a particular shit as I knocked the melted man off his chair. The flick was a Ki? How was I even supposed to pronounce it? When did Ridley get himself a master of the arcane on his ship? One that did programming, no less?

Didn’t matter. Signs unfortunately matched a lot of what I saw on Kraw, or on Z3-B15. Lots of creatures here with breath weapons that made Ridley’s Fireballs look cute in comparison. It wasn’t particularly intimidating after you’d fought the number of weirdos I had, but it demanded respect all the same. My systems were already close to pushing tolerance as I smashed my way through the cabin for the black box. Picking it up, I stashed it in an internal compartment for later, as I noticed just how hot the damn thing was.

Something in my head finally clicked as an errant connection ran through my brain. This ship typically ran on plasma engines…

And the plasma core was actually directly behind the cockpit in these old system runners, which meant the area was on fire…

I reached for the door as I put two and two together right before everything turned to burning and my systems were forced into emergency shutdown.

656 words/post
1307/5000 words/quest

 

[Ridley]

I awoke with the strangest taste of applesauce and pork in his mouth. It wouldn’t have been odd to the average person, but as sensornets came to life and my internal hardware whirred back online just as uncomfortably as it always had, it also occurred to me my mouth got blown off by the bitch in Brinstar waaay back.

Something was seriously wrong with either my hardware or my software, and I hoped it was my hardware, because at least that could get replaced. If Ridley’s new empire found a reason to do any more messing with my brain I’d just eat the friggin’ bomb and go AWOL.


And so, you are awake.

My servos jumped to life as I leaped to my feet, hearing a voice that was there and yet not there. Either some critical system malfunctions had occurred, I’d finally broke, or, more likely…

I gave an audible sigh.

Magic. because of course it was magic.

“Alright, who the hell are you, and what the hell do you friggin’ want?” I snapped, as my temper ran red-hot. “I’m twenty years too far in to be fresh-faced about this shit. Guessin’ you saved me, and if you’re being this fuckin’ coy, it’s to do something, so get to tellin’!”

There was silence, then a soft laughter.

“You must forgive me for my laughter. For a man of cold metal, your blood runs as hot as the whelp of a black.” the woman responded, which didn’t make a lot of sense to me.

“Colors don’t have attitudes.” I pointed out, only for a mirthful ‘heh’ to ring in my head.

“No, but dragons do. And it is a dragon to which you owe your life. I am Elyxia, and I have words I would share with you. You and your… employer.”

Good. Dragon.

Course it wants to talk to the space dragon. Ridley had named his race after the real mccoy… though the thought of them meeting did make me wanna smile when I thought that through. Most of the magic types here tended to be bigger than he was, and the thought of him being bullied, while unlikely, had a certain appeal to it.

Still. This ain’t what I was paid to do. In living.

“Listen, Ely-”

I felt a sharp twang in my head at the shortening of the name, and took that as an easily ignorable cue to stop. After all… I’m just a dumb old bounty hunter. I forget formal language quick.

“-Don’t know what business you have with my boss, but I’m not here to adventure. I’m a bounty hunter. Appreciate the save, but I’m not just doing your bidding.”

“Oh? Then take off my amulet.”

That made me blink, trying to figure out-


Ahh, shit. Looking down, my sensors picked it up. A black little jewel, attached firmly to a cold iron chain, and around my neck. I braced myself mentally for what I figured was coming, but I had to at least try, so I took one firm gauntleted hand and attempted to rip the jewel from the chain and chuck it.

Couldn’t even grab the gem hard, and I knew damn well it was durable enough to deal with the pounding even if I wasn’t being restrained by some magical force. But it’s not like whoever this Elyxia was had any interest in letting me try - the whole point was to make it clear I couldn’t even struggle.

And unfortunately, I still didn’t know much about magic for beans, so she was right, for now.

“Ugh… So I’m assuming you can just push me through with some kinda mind control through the gem?” I asked, already aware.

“I can manipulate your body, it’s true.” Elyxia replied.

I snapped my fingers. “Not good enough for pay. Promise me a reward, and I’ll work with you. If not, I’ll let you do the work. The worst you can do is get me killed.” Weavel replied.

“Really? You’re that opposed to doing me a favor?”

“I’m halfway ‘round the block, and I don’t have any particular reason to perform well. I’m willing to work with ‘bomb around my chest’, but if we’re going to get that stiff, you may as well make me stiff, doll.”

There was a pause, then that laughter again. Mocking… or simply childish? It was like listening to a vet laugh the first time someone got a little too heavy on the Galvanic Pulse cannons during training and burned their hands for the very first time. Someone a hell of a lot older laughing at someone fresh.

Only I wasn’t used to being the fresh one. Not for a long time.

“I assure you, mortal, the worst I can do would ravage your already diseased mind, and I would avoid tempting my worst so flippantly in the future. Nonetheless… You have fair reason to ask for reward, and I would prefer your willing assistance. I do not find these terms unacceptable. For now, I could offer you some magical assistance to your armor. Things that might shore up certain weaknesses. Continue to serve me, and… who knows?”

I wanted to yell at her for being so flickin’ vague. It was gaudy, unprofessional. Even Ridley had the ability to treat me like an adult. But my mind had already processed, and as I stood up on metallic legs, I gave my plea calmly.

“Continue.”

“...Well, it’s quite possible I have a cure to your ravaged body, dear Weavel. So long as our partnership goes well. One without a bomb. One that is flesh and bone and chitin as you love. Work with me, and the tin soldier may one day be tin no more.”

973 words/post
2280/5000 words/thread