Maniacs The Krittika Conflict

CHAPTER 7



Thirty minutes had passed as they watched from the bar with the door prised open, the town’s people clearing the bodies. It had dawned on them all that they had taken a job beyond their means.

‘So what now?” Erin asked Mason.

“What do you mean?”

“I can see what you’re thinking.”

He turned out of curiosity to look at her.

“Oh, and what might that be?”

“You’re thinking Volkov is going to come back with an army that you cannot expect to face.”

He recoiled. “So what’s the answer?”

“You took the job and the money, and you said you always see things through, so leaving is out.”

“And?”

“And you’re looking at them and thinking they don’t have a hope in hell of being useful in a fight.”

Mason turned to Liu.

“Hell, girl, where are you from?” asked Mitchell.

She rolled her eyes at the pilot.

“It doesn’t take a genius to see what is going on here. So that about sums it up?”

“That’s the problem, but what’s the solution?”

“Find people who can shoot and who are willing to join us, Mason.”

“Us?” asked Liu.

“I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

“Are you? You didn’t pull the trigger when the time came against those militiamen.”

She dipped her head in shame.

“Can you remember the first person you shot?” Mason asked Liu.

“Yes.”

“How easy was it for you?”

He went silent.

“Go on,” said Mason.

“Like I said, we need more people who can handle weapons and fight.”

He lay back in his chair and thought about it for a moment.

We’ve never recruited during a job before, and it’s far from ideal.

He looked to Liu for an opinion.

“It’s not a bad idea, but where could we hope to find anyone?”

“Frontier world like this, bound to be a few who could be up for it.”

“Good luck finding ‘em.”

“A small town like this always has around three bars; an upstanding one like this with nice furniture and expensive drinks. A family friendly place to take the kids, and then there is the dive. The sort of bar where your boots stick to the floor, the beer costs half as much as everywhere else, and half the patrons are ready to kick your teeth in. That’s where we’ll find a few guns to join us.”

“And you think you’ll find a place like that in this little town? Come on.”

“Damn right I do.”

He turned and called for Kaper to join them.

“What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

“We’re looking for a bar.”

“You’re in one. With the finest wines and ales and the best food in town.”

“Yes, yes. I want a different kind of bar. Where in town do all the fights start? The place with the cheapest drinks and the rowdy customers gather?”

He shook his head. “No, no, you don’t want to go there, Captain.”

“No I don’t, but I still asked.”

He looked around to see if his daughter could hear and then leaned in close.

“The place you describe is called ‘The Slap Up’.”

Mason sat back and smiled.

“But really, Captain, you don’t want to go there. It’s full of dirty gambling, fights, and whoring. This is a good town, and it’s the only stain on its name.”

“So you do have more vices than expensive alcohol?” he asked with a smile.

Mason kicked back his chair and stood up sharply.

“Where you going?” asked Erin.

“Not where am I going? Where are we going? Liu you hold down the fort here while Mitchell sobers up. Erin, you and I are going on a recruiting trip.”

He could see Kaper wasn’t happy about it at all, but Erin hadn’t heard what he had said and happily joined the Captain.

“So where to?” he asked Kaper.

“Captain? Surely not.”

“Just tell me where to find it, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Get to the crossroads south, and then head west for maybe five hundred metres.”

“It’s on the edge of town?”

“Thankfully, yes.”

“All right, let’s go.”

They stepped out, and Erin looked surprised he didn’t go for the copter.

“Half a click and you’re walking? I haven’t seen you walk anywhere in the time I have known you.”

“Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought. Which gets us back to you.”

“What about me?”

“Liu said you didn’t fire when Hunter and his men started the fight. He wasn’t wrong.”

“I…”

“I know what you did. You hesitated. Back at the ship you proved to us you can shoot, but in this line of work that doesn’t count for anything, if you can’t do it when it’s needed.”

‘Then why did you defend me?”

“You know you did wrong, but Liu isn’t always the most accepting of types. If it were up to him, we’d only recruit highly training ex military and law enforcement. That would rule me out for a start, let alone you.”

“I just don’t know what happened. I just couldn’t pull the trigger when it was a person in my sights.”

“Then we’re gonna have to sort that out. It’s a dangerous job we do, and you’re getting thrown into the deep end. If you’re gonna be a part of this crew and get your fair share of the cut, you have to do your fair share of the work. I need to know the next time you need to shoot someone you won’t hesitate. Hesitate, and you could get one of us killed.”

“Maybe I’m just not cut out for this kind of thing.”

“Maybe, but right now you’re flying with us, and we need all the help we can get.”

“This is normal life for you, isn’t it?”

“No such thing as normal. Every job is different, and the only dull day is the journey from one to another.”

“So you enjoy it, then?”

He thought about it for a moment. It was not something he had ever considered.

“It’s all I’ve ever known. Boss recruited me young, just like you have come to us. I wouldn’t know how to do anything else.”

“So you keep doing it because you don’t know what else to do?”

He nodded. “Maybe. But I wasn’t born into any money, and working a desk wasn’t for me. Just sort of fell into this, what’s not to like?”

“Maybe the fact that people are trying to kill you on a regular basis?”

“And yet you didn’t choose a dangerous life and still ended up in the thick of it?”

It gave her pause for thought.

“So you haven’t told me where we’re heading. Kaper didn’t seem to think it was a good idea.”

“If we always did what the barkeep recommended, where would we be in life?”

“So we’re heading for another bar?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because he wouldn’t be so anxious about you leaving for any reason but a rival establishment.”

“You’re quick. You might just work out for this team yet.”

The sun was high in the sky, and there was little shade as they made their way west through the streets. Transports continued to roll in and out of town at a steady rate, with workers and materials aboard. Sweat was dripping down their faces, and their clothes were soaked.

“Must be close now.”

Just as she said it, a woman flew out into the street and landed hard in the dust. Another rushed out from the side of the street, and a fight ensued. Erin stopped. They watched as several men poured out onto the street and clapped and cheered as they watched the scuffle.

“You’re just going to stand there and watch?” Erin asked.

“Hey, it ain’t my fight.”

“A*shole,” she muttered and rushed forward to help. She reached the two to pull them apart but was struck in the face by the back of one of their hands, throwing her onto the floor. The small crowd roared with excitement that she had joined the fight. She put her finger to her lip and found blood trickling from her mouth. Erin got to her feet, got the rifle from her back, and fired a shot into the air. The single laser shot made a loud crack which echoed down the long street and made them all stop in their tracks.

“Enough!” she screamed.

The two women looked at her and immediately turned back and kept slugging it out. Mason stepped forward and grabbed Erin by the shoulder, hauling her towards the door as the cheering continued.

“Why didn’t they stop?”

“Why would they? Look at you. You were never going to shoot them. They’d swallow you whole.”

She looked up to see the name of the bar.

“Seriously?”

“It’s the right place for us.”

“How?”

“Trust me. It was your idea to recruit for guns, so here we are.”

They passed inside and were met by a wall of smoke from pipes of what must be a local herb they had never encountered. It was everything Mason had described as what they needed. Erin looked around in disgust at the appalling state of the bar. It looked like a brawl had taken place the night before. It was the middle of the day, and yet there were more than thirty customers lying about the room.

“How can we find anyone of any use here?”

“To survive a bar like this, you’ve gotta have something,” he replied.

Nobody registered their presence.

“I bet a good few here are travelling through. Pilots and smugglers, the lower end of the miners and workers.”

“You make it sound like home.”

“Well, to some people it is. Can’t say I wouldn’t hold up in a place like this myself for a few days.”

“To what, drink yourself to death and catch God knows what off those poor women,” she said, pointing to what were obviously the bar’s own prostitutes.

“Spend a few weeks on a ship with nothing to do, you’ll be amazed how appealing a place like this can be.”

“I’d take your word for it, but I can’t say I’m convinced.”

“Yeah, well maybe if you grow up getting everything you ever wanted. To the rest of us, this is a good time.”

She ignored the comment and carried on as they stepped towards the bar.

“You think we’ll really find good people in here?”

“Hell, no, but I’ve seen more fight in these people than I have the rest of the town. Good people aren’t always what it needs to get the job done.”

They reached the bar. There were two huge vats behind the barman and no sign of anything else to choose from. He looked like he could have been the evil twin of Kaper, same height and build. But he had a few scars on his face and a carefree look about his face.

“Light or dark?” he asked them.

Erin looked confused. The barmen turned and pointed to the two huge vats. She looked along the bar and saw every customer drank from an acrylic mug with either a blond of brown mud-looking colour drink.

“I’ll… pass.”

“You want to work this life, then you need to experience the perks,” Mason laughed. He turned back to the barman.

“Two of the dark.”

“Could have at least gone light,” she replied.

“What?”

“It’s hot, a time for white wine.”

“I’m sorry, did I offend your carefully honed drinking etiquette?”

The barman passed over two mugs, which were chipped and rough but at least looked relatively clean. The fluid they contained was a thick muddy brown colour with a frothy head and to Mason looked perfect. He took a tip and smiled.

“Pretty solid stuff.”

Erin took a careful sniff of the top of the glass, recoiled and placed the mug back on the bar. Mason laughed at her response and turned to have his back against the bar so he could study all around him. Several of the miners still wore their work clothes and were most likely catching a midday drink during their lunch break. An old music player of a sort he hadn’t seen in twenty years was propped up in the corner, but looked like it hadn’t worked for some years.

His eyes panned across the room until he stopped on one character who stood out. The man sat alone. He must have been six feet tall and had a deep scar on the side of his temple that ran up into his hairline. He had a squarely carved jaw and a well-built body, but on the outside of his legs was some kind of exoskeleton device. It was slimline and connected at three points on his legs as well as his hips. Erin could see Mason staring at him.

“Alvertron exolegs, impressive,” she stated.

He had never seen the technology before and was surprised to hear she had. He looked at her for answers.

“It’s high tech equipment, the very latest. It’ll allow even somebody without working legs to walk and work the same as the rest of us.”

“That come cheap?” asked Mason.

“No, not at all.”

Mason studied the man carefully. He held himself like a soldier, and had pride and confidence. He had a pistol held in an expensive fix lock polymer holster on the side of his exoskeleton legs that were subtle over his cargo trousers. He was sitting against a wall, so he could see all that went on. Mason could tell he carefully studied all around him, despite doing everything he could to hide the fact.

“That’s a good start.”

“A crippled soldier, how’d you figure?” she asked.

He was taken aback.

“I thought you’d be more understanding to a man of disability.”

“Understanding, yes, but we’re looking for fighters.”

“And you said those legs will work as well as ours?”

“Most of the time, yes.”

“Well I don’t see a whole load of other candidates around here.”

She looked around for alternatives. Many were drunk, a bad sign at that time of day.

“Let’s go.”

He gave her no choice, so she followed him to the stranger’s table.

“Mind if we join you?”

The stranger looked at Mason and was unimpressed, but when he noticed Erin standing at his side, he changed his tone.

“Buy me a drink and you can take a seat beside me.”

Erin quickly offered up her drink that hadn’t been touched and placed it before him.

“Anyone would think you’d arranged to meet me here.”

The stranger’s jacket was off, and his shirt was fairly close fitting and clung to what was clearly a well-defined muscular physique. It was clear he was in great shape before whatever caused him to lose the use of his legs.

“If you’re with Hunter, I’m still not interested.”

“Now why would you say that?” Mason asked.

“Because he’s been trying to recruit me for the last three months.”

“That how long you have been here?”

He nodded in agreement.

“Well we aren’t with the Sergeant. In fact, we got into a little altercation with him this afternoon, and he left in a bit of a state.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true,” Erin added.

“Really?”

They both stared at him sternly, hoping he would accept their news. Instead, he looked over to the bar and yelled.

“Hunter been caught up in a fight in town here today?”

The barman nodded.

“Something over in the main street. Last I heard, he was running from some new guys in town!” the reply came.

The stranger looked impressed.

“Well, you have my attention. Hunter is a son of a bitch. About time somebody gave him what for. I’m Vincent…Hughes.”

“Captain Max Mason, and this is Erin.”

“Just Erin, nothing else?”

She shook her head. “Does there need to be?”

“So what can I do for you?”

“A group of concerned locals has hired us to sort Michael Volkov out.”

Hughes recoiled at the proposition.

“Maybe we came to the wrong table,” said Erin.

Mason smiled as he could see she was working an angle against him. He took in a deep breath before getting started on the beer she’d donated him. Mason continued.

“We’re getting ten mil to take on Volkov. You join us and prove yourself useful, and you can expect a three percent stake in the profits.”

He looked at the two of them carefully and spoke to Erin.

“That what you’re getting?”

She fumbled as she tried to respond. Mason jumped in before he could carry on.

“She’ll be getting standard rate for the ship’s crew, five percent. I’m asking you in for a single job.”

“And if I die during this job?”

“Well then it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“So you must have some idea I am right for the job?”

“You know how to wear a gun. You have been monitoring this room since we got in. You have the strongest defensive position. You’re ready to defend yourself at a moment’s notice and you clearly served.”

“Most perceptive, Captain; Staff Sergeant in the VASI Second Army. You a soldier yourself?”

“Nope, just a man with a gun who wants to make some money.”

“Really, because you look more like a man of principle to me? Nobody would take the job of fighting Volkov for any price in the world. And then there’s you,” he said, looking to Erin.

“A mercenary wouldn’t have such a pretty girl working as an equal in this job.”

“Maybe I just like to be surrounded by pretty things.”

He looked around at their surroundings and smirked.

“So you need to wear those things all the time?” asked Mason.

He was pointing at the man’s exoskeleton. The struts of the device were just a couple of centimetres thick, with joints at the knee and foot and a power source at the waist.

“If I want to stand,” he replied. “Rest of the time I’m on wheels. These legs have solar recharging. In a sunny environment, I can get up to twelve hours out of these babies, enough to get a job done.”

“As long as you don’t have to stay in the field.”

He took another sip of his beer.

“Captain, if you came to a bar on this little world looking for hired guns, then you must be desperate. I’m all out of credits and have nowhere left to go. I was honourably discharged for medical reasons due to injuries sustained. The money I got from the Army didn’t come close to covering the medical bills. These legs blew my pay out, and now I’m just as desperate as you. So you say you’ll give me three percent of the money to fight for you. I say, let me sign up for the long haul and take the full five.”

He lifted his glass as a salute, knocked back the thick liquid, and slammed the glass back down on the table. Mason sat back and thought about it for a moment.

“Tell me you have many other choices?” he continued.

He’s right. He’s a wreck of a man, but the best hope I’ve found yet of a useable ally.

“Those legs of yours, they going to cause us any trouble?”

“None, I can be as good as any man for most of every day.”

“And the rest of the time?”

“Running on wheels. But you can’t tell me you need me on my feet every hour of every day?”

“You be honest and fight hard, that’ll do.”

He stretched out a hand, and it was quickly accepted. They could both tell Hughes was taking the job out of desperation. Neither of them could see he had any hope of getting anywhere on Krittika. He had the look of a man trapped on a frontier world having expended the last of his wealth.

“When do we start?” asked Hughes.

“Right now. Militia under the control of Sergeant Hunter kicked up some trouble in town today, and we sent ‘em packing. It won’t be long till they come back in greater number. Have you got weapons?”

“I haven’t got much more than you see me wearing.”

They were the words of a desperate man. Erin gained respect for Mason for taking him in, but Mason only saw a trained gun hand that could be helpful.

“When do we leave?”

Mason looked around the room. He saw little potential for further fighters to join them.

“You know anyone who would want in on this deal? It’s damn dangerous, but the payoff is great.”

“I can’t say I made any friends here. Even on a world like this, the Alliance has a lot of influence.”

“And yet you are here?” he asked.

“War is over for me. I gave everything I had to give. Now its some other fool’s time to do so.”

“You really believe that?” asked Mason.

“Why is it any concern of yours?”

“Because the war goes on. But for us, we fight for each other. We must trust each other and be there for the crew. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” he replied sternly.

“Then you’re hired. No pay up front, no benefits, or perks. All I can guarantee you is a fair share of decent pay should you survive and do your job.”

Mason lifted his glass and Hughes did likewise.

“All right, grab your things. We’re heading out,” stated Mason.

Hughes grabbed a holdall from the seat beside him.

“Ready.”

They were both astonished.

“This is why I didn’t join the Army, Erin.”

They knocked back the last of their drinks and made a move for the door when a ruckus broke out ahead of them. Two men were thrown aside as several others erupted into a vicious fistfight. A monster of a man seemed to be fighting all the others. He was six foot five, with a shaved head, and a scar that ran from his cheek down his neck and into his shirt.

Furniture crashed aside the hulking man until he drove three men out of the door into the street with a chair. Mason took the opportunity to pass through the mayhem and open door to the street. As they got into the daylight, they could see the lone man clubbing three others to near death with the chair. Erin looked to Mason as if she expected him to stop it, but he seemed more entertained.

The barman ran out into the street with a gun. Mason stepped in and pushed it aside, causing the laser pulse to crash into the dust. The lone man took his opportunity to break the jaw of one and throw another aside. The street went quiet.

“You want to deal with him that’s your choice!” yelled the barman. He got a grip on his weapon and retreated into the bar.

The man shrugged off the dust from his coat and kicked one of his victims in the head while he lay helpless on the floor.

“You want a job?” asked Mason.

The stranger looked suspicious but not at all concerned.

“What does it pay, and what do I have to do?”

“Five percent of ten million credits of this job and all others we get while you work for me.”

“You only answered one question.”

Mason realised the stranger was not one who could be toyed with.

“It’s dangerous. Fight Volkov and free this town of his hold on it.”

“What are you doing, charity work?”

“Last time I checked, you don’t get ten mil for doing charity,” replied Mason.

Hughes stepped in closer and leaned into Mason’s side.

“This man is a common thug, how can you expect him to care?”

“People care for enough money.”

The man had overheard the conversation and took a few paces closer to look at them all. His hand rested on the grip of a pistol carried across his belt. He studied them both carefully until he finally got to Hughes. He spotted a pin on his collar immediately.

“You served with VASI?”

“Until this happened to my legs.”

He spat out on the floor.

“I assume you didn’t?” Hughes asked.

He looked down to see his pistol had the unmistakeable bird’s head grip used only by the Alliance gun factories on Griswold.

“Then you must have been Alliance, unless you stole that gun.”

Mason was impressed at Hughes’ perception as he had not noticed that himself. The man seemed to wear it with some pride, and they could both see the hatred in the eyes for the VASI pin Hughes wore.

“So that was issued to you,” stated Hughes, “and clearly nothing is stopping you fighting. So you’re either AWOL during a war, or a deserter, which is it?”

“It’s none of your goddamn business is what it is.”

He turned to Mason as he could see he was the leader of the group.

“So who do you fight for?”

“Ourselves. I’m Captain Mason, and this is some of my crew. We pissed Volkov off, and he’s gonna be coming for us soon. Do you want in?”

“You’re not seriously going to hire this thug?”

Erin looked wary of him, but Mason knew they needed capable fighters at any cost.

“Well, Captain,” said the stranger. “You are heading for a fight, and you’ve got what, a cripple and a little girl, you’re not selling the idea to me.”

Taking him on board hardly seems like the best idea. He’s a crude brawler and doesn’t look like he can be trusted, but he seems to be the only chance we have of another fighter and he’s slipping away.

“What are you doing on this world, stranger? You’re not a miner. Not a dealer, or a soldier as it would seem. What are you doing here?”

“Thinking that’s none of your business,” he replied, tightening his grip on the Griswold on is belt.

“Whoa, all I am saying is, what is here for you? I’m guessing you don’t have a flight off this world, and there aren’t any other jobs worth you taking. How you gonna keep paying for those drinks and a bed?”

He loosened his grip on the pistol as he thought it over. He had the look of a man who’d lived in the same bar for the last few weeks.

“Fight with us, and you’ll get a fair share of the profits, a room, and a crew to have your back.”

“And if I don’t want it?”

“Fight is coming to town, whether you like it or not. You might get tied up in it either way. This way you get a payday out of it.”

“And her? She taken?” he said, gesturing towards Erin.

She took offence at the idea of being a commodity and opened her mouth to speak when Mason stopped her.

“Erin is one of our crew. She might not look all that much, but she can shoot, probably better than you.”

“Mmm,” he muttered.

“On the bright side, she’ll be something pretty to look at when you work with us.”

Erin coughed at the thought, but Mason turned and nodded for her to calm down. She knew he was working an angle, but she didn’t like it.

In all honesty though, because she’s pretty is part of the reason I allowed her to stay aboard, he thought to himself.

The man grumbled as he ogled the young woman, smiled, and then rubbed his hands together, thinking of the money he was being offered.

“I’m up for a fight.”

“I thought as much.”

Hughes looked highly offended, and Mason knew it was a conflict they may never settle.

“Now, both of you. I never signed up for the war and don’t have an awful care for either side. Sometimes, we’ll get work from either party, so you’re just gonna have to deal with that. Whatever conflict may have been between you, you need to let it be. You both take this deal, then you work for me and put all that crap aside?”

Hughes accepted, and the stranger spat on the ground and ignored it.

“Name’s Viktor, and I can’t say I care much for the war either. You pay me and give me a bed, I’ll shoot anyone you want me to.”

“Long as that stays to killing the right people, we got a deal,” replied Mason.

Viktor nodded and followed them back towards Kaper’s bar.