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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.”
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
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