A R T E L L A
Location: Redacted
Ground temperature: 42°C
Time: 11:58 a.m
At first they took only my possessions. Which I didn't care much for.
They took my clothes and my comm link. They took anything of value and perhaps the only items I second glanced at were my weapons–which got melted down with the rest of it. But I had long ago become comfortable in my own skin and they kept the temperatures sweltering in every room despite the shade.
They. Had perhaps many names in many continents.
I knew them by their real one. The Deathless.
No introduction was needed. No arrogance or declaration of their own greatness proceeded them. They went beyond all of that. They could topple planet leaders just for amusement if they wished–but not even that would satisfy them. Material gain certainly did not. The few things their members owned were for making them more efficient at what they did or they did not bother at all.
So, why the hell was I there at all?
Days ago I was lying in that bed with Proximo Dartega and everything was so possible. The glimmer of a life that held promise and those steel grey eyes. The ones that matched me word for word and had no fear of saying exactly what someone did not want to hear. The way that darkness broke in his eyes when I got through that stoic demeanour and the way that fire would match mine when the competition got a little too interesting...
But I made no error sat here naked in the dirt before them. I do not regret a moment. The hands that shaped me in those walls made me better. Not only better but a force. A force so great that the darkest shadows would shudder when I shifted between them. A force that could counter every enemy the Division's second stacked upon himself–ones that not even he saw around him.
But he would hate me for it. For leaving. I knew this.
I went to them to acquire everything I would ever need, so when the darkness came I would not fight it... I would become it.
"Your mind first." The caramel skinned woman with many gold rings reminded me. Those green eyes gave nothing away. They only watched and waited, for what I wasn't to know yet.
I nodded before her as two of her own brought me carefully to my feet in a strange respect and chrome armour I had never seen the like of. But I would see that armour eventually. Armour you cannot buy but only earn. Any that tried to steal the technology or were truly foolish enough to take from a member of the Deathless never lived long.
I flexed the chrome fingers of it now that mimicked ancient armour before our time. It's the very reason I never flashed such technology around the halls of the Division. Not even Proximo had lay eyes on me wearing it. I had been near... Only never seen.
I thought on him now.
Far outside the city limits in the dying outlands of mostly dust and rusted skeleton structures. These places used to home so many. I enjoy walking the endless stretches of cracked rock they built for their vehicles. You only saw early versions of them in the outer sectors of Merridian now.
I placed an armoured finger to my temple.
"We still good?"
Dazz came back quickly and quietly.
"The whole base is a jumpy time bomb with a sociopath in control of Sector killing weapons... what do you think?" She retorted dryly.
"I think I can still count on you to keep him in the dark."
"He's gone."
I sat up in the shaded rust skeleton of a once tall building. My fusion rifle scraped the edge I lay on. "Explain that to me." I said slowly.
"Nothing you didn't already expect, Art–the man is beside himself. You went dark–"
"I went untraceable. I think you know the difference."
"Makes none to me. The boy thinks the Imperials have you."
I sighed gustily through my nose as I tried to run different scenarios through my mind of him levelling entire Sector 1 buildings like the bull in the upper class china shop he is.
"How long?"
"Booout an hour ago. He hasn't done anything too wild yet–"
"Fine." I finally stated. "Dazz, get him out here."
There was a pause down the comm.
If I wanted a life with that man it was time he started getting full truths instead of half of them.
She feigned a shit level of shock, enjoying that I was being honest about anything for once and that I would be responsible for her brother's wrath. But not only that. I was the safest place her brother could be and she knew it.
"Are you sure? He will be rather–"
"Can we skip the false concern and get to the point. Send the co-ordinates. I do not have the luxury of time when the Empress is arriving soon."
I glanced at my holo. Still time.
The smile was already in her voice. "I will let him know the great news. Enjoy Artella–"
I cut the line and readjusted the fusion rifle under a camouflaged sheet. It protected the glint of the sun in the scope and dust damage from the miles of dunes out here. I looked outwards from my perch around five stories high. It reminded me much of the Deathless lands. Their backyard of choice was the most uninhabitable place on earth for good reason.
After breaking the mind they break the body.
What better way than pushing it to the limits with heat exhaustion driving you both mad and dead on your feet. Throw in a fight to the death and you may be on to something...
I swiped my wrist holo slowly. As soon as I lifted the block on incoming feeds–bar for Ms Dazz Dartega–my sweet methodical silence would be eliminated. It's exactly why I left it off. He would already be racing across the city either way.
The thought alone almost made me smirk. But the weight of Dex's death still clung to me like a stark reminder. Look what happens when you are not good enough... Not fast enough, smart enough, strong–I clenched my fists as I saw that innocent mop of blonde hair and big ideas bouncing around the halls of the Division like a naive puppy.
The years of having his back. His carefree spirit brightening the darkest of my time working in Merridian so close to Proximo without interfering directly in his life. The kid had so much to see, so much to live. I distracted myself with a dark throwing knife strapped under my forearm.
Proximo was no puppy. But he was a target.
And despite being the best at what I did. I still couldn't save him if we kept this up. No one could.
It's why this meeting mattered so much. So we could finally get the fuck out of this game. We no longer needed to play it–death was a dance for credits and eager ambition. Neither I had a taste for anymore.
I wanted my time with him.
"Proximity alert." A cheerful voice notified me. "South West side. 15 kilometres."
I flinched and glanced at the time. Only four minutes had passed since I terminated that comm. I snorted to myself and placed my eye into the scope. The blue of the scope let me see higher contrast against the dust and sure enough... Not a fusion craft but a Falcon jet was racing directly at my south west side.
I smirked into the scope as my crosshairs levelled a spec gaining in size.
"Military-grade craft. Status is armed. Countermeasures?"
"Disengage." I murmured back, still smiling into the scope. "It will only piss him off more." I said, thinking of the laser activated mines I had in my AO. A few anti-aircraft munitions too but nothing too spicy.
"Disengage confirmed. Following statement does not compute." The robot sang back.
"Proximo Dartega rarely computes..." I muttered, swiping the AI away and watching the dust clouds grow from a pair of powerful fusion engines.
* * * * *
P R O X I M O
She first came across my radar in a fashion true to her reputation.
Death and awe.
"More wine!" He screamed almost desperately.
I carefully fought the growing disgust for the fat lard that had grown too comfortable and far too complacent in Sector 35. His grip could barely hold 30 to 34 now... With each fresh slap of news that another crime lord that had fallen in shocking and sudden circumstances, he was growing more paranoid and foolish.
More scarlett splashed across one of Lazarus' servers, while I continued to let the pieces float around my mind and form an answer that was tasteful–an answer that would work in my favour. But whoever was mad enough to start picking off Underworld leaders... Hell. Who was even skilful enough to get inside those networks–
That. Was the question that needed answering. Who.
Contractors avoided criminal heads. They ran the blackmarkets for them, it would only be bad for business. That narrowed down the amount by virtually 95%. Only a contractor could have the resources and ability get in and out of that kind of hit alive...
"BRING ME MORE–"
His scream caught my attention for only one reason. It wasn't the volume. It was the way it suddenly cut off and gurgled more than the standard obese charlatan would usually.
My eyes snapped onto the crystal goblet that slipped from his fingers.
Before it could smash I already knew he was a dead man. I already knew the scramble for power, the violence to ensue, the blaming and pointing that would tear this faction apart by the seams–
I had no interest in it.
I vanished that night as if I had been the one to do it myself.
I honestly had bigger things to focus on. Who was this ghost. There were only two criminal overlords left. That in itself was insane. In less that six months this shadow of a human had neutralised over half the outer sectors of their leaders.
The latter question was who would take their place.
The current question was much more exciting...
Did they need help?
I had every intention of being on the winning side. That was the side that held all the cards, the resources and had the foresight to stop any other from doing the same. Cleaning the board. That's what this was.
Intelligence always recognises intelligence. It is not something you say or do. Its much more subtle. A brainwave you both operate on. A higher level you do not even notice until its presented right in front of you. A sharpness in the eyes. A state of urgency in everything they do because they know the value of their time. When I met her for the first time she didn't just tick those boxes...
She obliterated them.
Scorpion.
I came across the name in a backwards place. A place when I wasn't even looking.
The Crypt was many things. It provided opportunities to those that did not have a hope in hell. It gave you a taste of the darkest creatures Merridian had to offer. And it served cheap booze.
I was nursing a glowing bottle of Junak in a corner booth. It had been months since I'd heard from Dazz. She had been freelancing last I knew. Contractors and finance wolves was usually her type. Credits and resources.
I didn't blame her. She had digital talent. That opened doors.
I preferred breaking them down.
I sighed through my nose and threw back the rest of the glass before refilling it slowly. The thumping music was enough to distract most patrons from my dark corner. I was mostly here for the distraction of it all while I scanned incident reports on the Silver Sun's servers. The Emperor was most delighted with the recent demise of criminal leaders and was sure to let the Upper Sectors know what a savage crap heap the outer Sectors were...
I smirked at that hideous silver and navy suit.
I had long ago suspected that was a man with his own darkness behind the snakes' smiles–
The crowd roared louder than usual and I glanced up to the holo above the fighting pit. A double or nothing credits bet was being taken for the next fighter. I snorted. Another naive kid in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I returned to my research through my comm. Scanning through the lines of drugs busts, weapons shipment intercepts, gang territory disputes... Nothing that screamed outside of the regular dealings of the Underworld.
I sipped more of the glowing blue liquor and rolled my neck. A true ghost.
I will find you.
This time the crowd went silent. That. Was a first.
I swiped the live feed away from my eyes and glanced up at the holo. Three things struck me hard and fast.
The build.
The blood.
The hood.
Slight. Caked. Concealed.
One thing fighters wanted in this part of the city was notoriety. A reputation. It opened doors for you. Yet this lithely built fighter shrouded his face. A crimson hood pulled fast over their eyes and matched the blood that was clearly not his own. I sat up in my seat when the next bizarre affair made itself apparent.
He didn't bother with the rusted rungs to climb out. He took two rapid steps and thrusters sent him high out of the pit and shouldering past gawking members of the crowd that were too stunned to be angry about lost bets.
When the abnormal presented itself that starkly in your face you can choose two paths.
You can gawk at it while it vanishes into the night. Or you can go after it and find out what the hell made it so special in the first place.
I was never one to ignore the abnormal–its kept me alive ever since.