A stack of plates exploded off a market stall on her right “fuck” she thought, springing away and bounding down the densely crowded street as sonic pulses burst to her left and right. “Fuck fuck fuck”. Her nerves were so shot she was shaking as she went.
“Stop” came the Vox roar of the guard mechs behind her, sonic pulsars blaring, the auto targeting mercifully thrown off by the overhanging awnings and densely packed AR marketing encroaching on every inch of visual space. She jabbed a claw at her Viz-band and the vibrant colours of the marketing slogans flicked off, leaving the dull grey of the streets. Colour was costly in real space on Broker III. A sonic pulse caught the tip of her tail and she yowled, spinning to see the closest mech barrel through a group of hagglers, causing a cascade of hard-wire drives to go spinning across the polished floors.
“Cease fleeing or risk escalation” came the rasping mech’s voice again, its Vox unit lights flickering as it fired off another sonic pulse at her. She spun around again and bounded on, flicking her claws out as she cornered for extra traction on the slippery floors. She was panting, glancing back and forth. Guard mechs were slow and ungainly, but their hive programming was still sophisticated and they worked as pack hunters, the blaring and blasting of those behind her a distraction from the ones she knew would inevitably be making their way along the side alleys of the market to cut her off, and if that happened… well there was no way a juvenile Hanna like her could take on a half tonne mech. Shouts and sounds of surprise came from the row of stalls over to her right and instinctively she leapt, her lithe feline body propelling her higher than your average biped could manage, which was lucky as a volley of sonic pulses ripped through the stall she had been running past a split second before. She landed on all fours on a flat metal stall roof, the glistening high ceilings of the Tarvani marketplace still hundreds of metres above her.
The Tarvani Broker family was only a minor one in the grand scheme of things, house of a lesser son of a lesser daughter, so far removed from the ancient Prime Broker families that they could almost be considered a different species at this point. Nevertheless, even a lesser Broker family wielded wealth and power that a young Hanna outcast like herself couldn’t even begin to dream of being a part of. Well, not until recently that is, not until she had somehow found herself caught up in a piece of palace intrigue that she absolutely would have been better off avoiding. Mittlick, as her friends called her, was a drinks bearer in a lower tier of the Tarvani family grounds, there to wait on and entertain the guests of the family who weren’t important enough to actually enter the palace itself, but would rather meet with delegates of delegates down in the meeting halls outside.
As the various Broker families did with all trade in the Broker system, the Tarvanis had a strangle hold on this quadrant of the planet, not a credit was exchanged without their books registering it, without the prices being monitored and markets being watched. The marvellous thing about a corrupt system was that anyone can profit, and people did, in ludicrous fashion. Under the illusion of a perfect free market the universe’s least free market rates were controlled by the manipulation of wealth from the families and as a result people rose and fell like surfers riding the tidal waves of corrupt volatility, everything was for sale and anyone was a prospective buyer, and always the Brokers watched, waited, manipulated and ultimately profited in unfathomable quantities. Next to them, she was a speck of dust, she was a nothing and a nobody, not a buyer or a seller, part of no family and with no name but the one her friends had given her; she was less than nothing.
So you can imagine her surprise when she’d been performing her usual nightly role of ferrying drinks from the bar to one of the minor meeting rooms and had fallen into a conspiracy that now had her running for her life through the streets of Tarvani’s marketplace. What had possessed her to tuck away behind the red and black drapery? Why on earth had she deviated from her usual path to the private secure rooms?
Well actually that wasn’t a hard question to answer, it had been curiosity. Not curiosity at what she had heard, but curiosity at what she had seen. It had been because she had caught a glimpse of something through a closing doorway and as quietly and unnoticed as the youth of her kind are best at being, she had slipped through and nestled between two layers of translucent drapery as the door clicked shut behind her. Inside the room were was the usual collection of three or four random races, a Thrall, two Runcorn and a middle aged Hanna who had the impression of being the head of the group, though he was at that awkward stage of Hanna life where they haven’t reached the dominating size and presence of the elders, but had lost the lithe beauty of the juvenile members of their race that she was still blessed with. More excitedly though was the sweating, seething mass in one corner, gold garb, dripping in jewels and fanning itself slowly the unmistakable form of one of the Broker Clan spread out across a specially designed chaise, three eyes sunken in the pudgy grey skin, four huge arms resting on a vast gelatinous body that entirely swamped its useless legs, given up centuries ago for mechanised transport. Upon his head three hard keratin sheets had been coated in gold plate, making him stand out as a member of the Tarvani family, though which it was impossible to tell, immortality and genetic modification meant that age and identity was hard to establish.
What was even more interesting than him though, what had drawn her into the room in the first place was the alien standing opposite, leaning back against the wall in what might be a nonchalant fashion as the Broker and Hanna made animated conversation. It was clearly a human, and Mittlick had never seen a human, hell, no-one this side of the Anti-matter fields even knew anyone that had seen a human. She stood back in awe, hiding in the curtains out of sight. Humans; rarer than rare, nothing more than stories about stories out here in the Broker systems, rumoured to be leading the offensives for the Republic on the front-line of the Hegemony wars, their technology and stature was the stuff of hushed bar-room conversations and horror stories that you tucked your children into bed with. She watched the man. He simply exuded threat, the primal animalistic parts of her brain screaming at her to run in a way that could only be described as… thrilling. His outfit was plain, disks of flattened scaled metal clinging tight to his torso, arms bare to show rippling muscle that was densely packed and hairless, large hands resting against his forearms which were crossed in front of him. But it was his eyes that got her, dark, large and piercing, though his body language was relaxed, his eyes watched, swinging back and forth as they surveyed the room and absorbed information. This was a predator, but not the usual kind, not the kind like her race, with claws and teeth, not like the Runcorn with their scaled bodies and long spiked horns, this was a predator that combined power and thought in a way that the universe had not heard of, in a way that reportedly burned planets and scoured fleets from the skies.
She cursed as she sped across the stall roofs, bounding and clutching from one to the next, alternating from four legs to two when necessary to avoid slipping and falling to the mercy of the mechs below. She couldn’t stay up here long, vid-drones were circling above, looking for her amongst the market-goers, though at least she had seemed to have lost the heftier ones below she thought as she leapt over a street. She needed a plan; running was all very well and good if you have somewhere to run to. She shot a glance left and right, cursing as the stalls stretched out seemingly endlessly under the glinting roof vaulting high high above her, up into the infinite sky above. A desperate idea came to her then and she veered hard to the right, heading west, swearing and sobbing at herself as she went.
She had stood and watched the human for quite a while before she had heard something that had pricked her ears, rasped from in a voice that sounded like grating iron from the depths of the Broker. “You can’t strong arm us” there followed a sound that might have been a chuckle “your war ravages your supplies”
“Ravaging that your family encourages”
“A baseless accusation” the Broker rasped with a flick of one fat hand, though the cracked grin through rows of spiked teeth showed the pointlessness of that lie. “You are in no position to make demands of us; the demands are ours to make of you. Your coffers run dry, your resources are spent, your victory hinges on this new race of…” the Broker licked his lips as he gestured the human in the corner “creatures” the man raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “On these, and on the money to continue to build their machinations. Delegate, this is a planet of transactions. We grow and thrive on offers and counter offers, so tell me, what can you offer us?” he reached over and took a large fruit from a plate nearby, biting into it as the juices dripped obscenely down his chin. The four members of the party had a hurried conversation in hushed voices, the human remaining back against his wall unmoving.
“We would offer you… assistance” said the Hanna, his voice measured.
“Assistance?” hissed the Broker “and what assistance would that be?”
The Hanna took a deep breath. “As you are no doubt aware, the Republic has forged an alliance with the Prime Broker of Broker IV to harass and harrow the Northern borders of the Hegemony. We are however aware that the Tarvani family is no friend of the Prime Brokers and has as such fallen on hard times” the Broker growled and Mittlick thought she sense the slightest tensing of the Human’s arms, though upon looking he seemed as relaxed as ever. The political talk was over her head but it was clear that the conversation had suddenly become very charged. “We would provide covert assistance… extremely covert assistance in getting the Tarvani family into a more… esteemed position. We are aware of your current machinations towards the Primes and would provide access to a network of agents for you to… make use of upon Broker IV.” There was a pregnant pause as the Broker sat fanning, his body heaving up and down under the low light.
“I must commend the Republic’s espionage network, you are… thorough in your research delegate” He smacked his lips, twin tongues running across the juice on his lips “you are correct that our aspirations would lead us to seek… new management for the Broker System and the Tarvani are well placed to oversee such a takeover.” His eyes narrowed and the room seemed to bristle as his voice lowered “yet the Primes are far more entrenched than you could perceive, they have existed since before your populations even had planets to enter existence upon, they have dominated this sector since before even their own memories can record. To overthrow the primes would be to overthrow a law of nature” There was a rustle to the Broker’s left and from her position Mittlick suddenly saw three dark shapes slinking round through the drapes, wicked blades jet black in the shadow. “And one does not do battle with the laws of nature” he finished with a wicked flick of his tongue. The shadow’s intent was clear and the grin upon the Broker’s fat face was unmistakable yet the delegation seemed unmoved. She almost cried out as the first assassin took a step into the light, yet before she could something else happened.
The shadow disappeared.
The human had flung himself across the room, the distance covered and speed at which it was done was almost faster than her eyes could track. There was a sickening crunch as thick muscle obliterated bone. The limp form of a birdlike Thrall smashed against the rear wall as the human flung it away, eyes flicking to the next target. The second assassin squawked in surprise, a noise that was cut short as its neck was snapped in a huge hand which lashed out and crushed the weak bones in its throat as though it was made of twigs. The final Thrall had had time to leap at the Hanna delegate, who had been caught off-guard, but before the knife could find its mark the human flung the broken body of the second bird at the third and bowled it over in a tangle of shrieking limbs and feathers. To its credit it picked itself up quickly and held the blade out in front of it, clacking its beak threateningly at the daunting figure of the Human. At least it was meant to be threatening, but the would be assassin was barely half the height of the giant alien and the shattered bodies of his accomplices made for a good inclination of what was about to happen. The Thrall lunged, a seemingly wild swipe with the blade which the human moved to block with his wrist but the move suddenly became a well measured feint, a second hidden blade hissing up in the Thralls other hand and plunging deep into the human’s upper thigh, followed immediately by the first blade thumping into the forearm he had used to block.
With a screech of triumph the Thrall leapt backwards and raised its head plume in victory, only to suddenly frown. Rather than collapse to the ground or keel over in pain the Human was standing looking at the blade in puzzlement, and then suddenly laughed. A great booming sound from his throat and chest that seemed to shake Mittlick’s bones. He yanked the blade out and a trickle of bright red, oxygen rich blood dripped out of the gash left, though the wound seemed to barely trouble him. Reaching down he did the same with the other in his leg, pulling the two blades free he tossed them to the side, and licked his thumb, running it over the wound on his forearm.
“What is…” started the Broker, but was unable to finish, merely looking in disbelief as the red blood turned brown and the wounds seemed to seal themselves up as they watched.
“Oh I’ve always wanted to say this…” the Human’s voice was a low rumble, but instead of anger or pain it was full of mirth, stabbed twice in ways that would usually cause system shock or completely incapacitate most creatures, the man was simply laughing.
“Say what?” the Thrall hissed spitefully at him, circling slowly round to try to get closer to his discarded blades.
The huge alien spun and grabbed the bird by the shoulder with a lightning fast move from his injured arm before it had taken two steps.
“Tis but a scratch” he growled with a grin and tore the assassin in two from neck to waist, as though he was made of paper, laughing almost to himself as he dropped the broken halves to the floor and stepped away from the viscera. The scene was one of horror and it was all Mittlick could do to stop herself from crying out in shock, tears welled in her eyes. The human turned and looked directly at the Broker’s horrified face “as you were delegates”.
The nonchalance was more than she could take and she spun around and sprinted away, running from the terror of that room, from the death and gore that she wanted no part of. She had run and run mindlessly, all higher function leaving her until she dropped, exhausted in an alley, where she had hidden in a large refuse barrel for several hours until she could get her heartbeat and brain back to usable levels. She didn’t have to worry long about whether she had been seen or noticed as her Viz-band had promptly shown that her employment had been terminated, and from there it had been a short sprint until she now found herself hurtling across the market roofs, heading West towards the merchant launch pads, two vid-drones blaring alarms as they gained on her, the rumble of the security mechs in the streets below keeping pace.
Now she was crying. Each rooftop was a blur as she bounded from one to the next, not thinking, not stopping she pounced and leapt, claws scrabbling for traction, her body veering this way and that in a desperate attempt to get away from her pursuers and the vague prospect of freedom on a merchant vessel as the Launchpad came into sight not 200 metres ahead of her.
Suddenly a roof collapsed in front of her, a hail of sonic pulses blasting it to dust and she went bowling head over heels onto the street below, feeling her fragile left ankle snap as it cracked against a stall corner on her way down, making her yowl in pain, stars in her vision and a red mist in her mind. She tried to lift herself to her feet but the pain was too much and she collapsed again, her vision getting thicker. ‘No no no’, she thought, panic and fear overwhelming her, tears and pain making her shake. She crawled slowly forward, willing herself to keep going, every inch a battle to stay conscious as the pain pulsed in her ankle, as her brain sought relief in oblivion. A boot landed next to her and she collapsed against it as the sirens of the security mechs and vid-drones rose to a crescendo.
“This is her Lexi” a familiar and terrifying voice rumbled above her
“Poor thing, she looks terrified” came a female voice, higher yet equally as sonorous, the sound filling the street.
“Citizen, please stand away from the fugitive” the vox roar of the nearest security mech barked the order. The female laughed
“Citizen? Oh honey, to be a citizen you have to be civilised and we’re certainly not that.”
“Citizen, step away from the fugitive” the female voice laughed.
Mittlick tried to look up, to see who was looming over her, though she already knew. “Help” she mewled, the effort of the word almost more than she could manage, but it was her only hope then. The human knelt, the impact of his knee next to her reverberating round her body.
“Don’t worry little one” his voice was soothing, the low rumble completely empty of the threat she had felt earlier in the draped room. "Me and Lexi have a seat saved for you” how funny to be so deadly and yet so gentle she thought absently as she felt herself lifted from the ground.
“Citizen, desist”
“Oh go on blockhead, call me citizen one more time!” the woman’s voice laughed and Mittlick heard the unmistakable whine of a gauss rifle charging.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here” rumbled the male as he turned away from the mechs. The last thing she heard before passing out was a whoop of joy and a loud ‘come on then!’ from the other human as a sonic pulse flickered over their heads, followed by a crackling howl of gauss fire and small explosions. She rolled her head against the metal scales of the Human’s chest and passed out to the sound of his slow strong heartbeat.
Artwork by Francesco Lorenzetti