No Shelter Among the Stars

Chapter 12-- The Harlequin

He spat again and started walking faster. The crowd grew thicker the closer they came to the docks and Gypsy struggled to keep up. A woman with slit pupil eyes, clearly harvested from some off-world beast, shoved against her, almost knocking her to the ground. Gypsy recovered and slipped around some larger men with slung heavy autocannons and managed to get in step with Tasla again.

"Could you slow down a bit?" she asked, still struggling to keep pace.

He rubbed his forehead and said, "Look, until a couple moments ago I was extremely drunk, so I'm not completely sure what your name is."

"It's Gypsy," she said.

"But," he continued. "I am pretty sure we have men after us from the biggest ship currently in orbit, so we need to get off the streets." His hands drifted to his weapons as he shouldered a smaller man aside. He led to off to the right and over to the wall of elevators that led to the docks. She kept next to him as he stepped up and punched a code into one of the side panels.

"Did that one bit of vomiting really sober you up, like completely?" she asked, glancing around at the people pushing their way from the elevators to the streets and back again.

Tasla coughed and leaned against the wall as he waited for the doors to open. "Oh yes," he said. "Fight or flight toxin-purge. Thank you for that. Barely got to enjoy being drunk. A handful of silver for nothing." The doors slid open and they both stepped inside. Tasla rubbed his right temple and closed his eyes.

"I've heard of people like you," said Gypsy folding her arms and leaning against the elevator wall as the doors closed. "Syndicate human bio-modification. I've never seen one of you in real life though. I had heard that..."

Tasla slipped a couple of pills from one of the pouches on his body armor. "Heard that...what?" he asked, crunching them between his teeth.

"That the Syndicate is pretty efficient at hunting down their rogue experiments," she said. The elevator moved fast and suddenly enough to make her stomach lurch.

Tasla laughed and his hand slid to a silver bullet hanging from an odd medallion around his neck. "That's a nice little weapon strapped to your arm," he said, noticeably changing the subject. "You should probably learn to shoot, at some point. If this is going to be your line of work."

"You weren't shooting all that straight either," she countered, frowning.

"I greased around three or four of the chats, and that was after downing a pitcher of weapons grade neurotoxins," he grunted, tossing colored capsules into his mouth. "Only way to get drunk when you're bio-modified, but now that I'm head-achingly clear," he continued, focusing on her. "You are a pilot, correct?"

Gypsy sighed and nodded. "You're not going to ask me my name again now, are you?" she asked.

"Just being thorough," said Tasla with a half smile. The elevator doors opened and they both stepped out into the loading bay. Gypsy's boots clicked against the metal floor. The ship in front of her almost made her gasp. She slowed and stopped to stare at it.

"This is your ship?" she asked to the back of Tasla's head.

"This is it," said Tasla without turning around. "Come inside, have a look."

"This is a Syndicate Patrol Ship," she said, eyeing the fractal armor plating and the maintenance robots sealing new layers of dark Tyrnium to the hull. Weapons batteries jutted out here and there. Splashes of violet light glowed from the scanners and shield generators in sharp contrast to the dark armor. On one side, the ship's name, Harlequin was spelled out in bold red letters. She could still see marred silvery plating around them where the ship had been scoured of whatever its original name had been.