It was prime time. Players crowded the bar as Marcus entered the Smoking barrels, but even with the crowd, he managed to Columbus easily. He sat at the tables and was nursing a drink and both locked gazes. Marcus nodded at him and approached the table.
“Have a seat.” Columbus said, gesturing to the other side of the table.
Marcus pulled up a chair and took a load off. He then waved for a drink and asked. “What’s the job?”
Columbus chuckled, “Same as last time, I need you to get me someplace I need to be. Pay will be double than last time.”
“Should be enough.” Marcus shrugged. “What do you have?”
“I’m not finished. I’ll also hire your dozen or so goblin mercenaries on this job. I’m thinking 20,000c per head per day. Is that good?”
Marcus grunted. His boys were still fresh, just barely able to shoot and as green as the color of their skin. He didn’t plan to get them working to this extent this early, but then it was the reason he had them in the first place. “When you said it would be the same as the last time, does that include equipping the force too?”
“Considering that I haven’t asked for my thermals back, that would be no. I won’t be upgrading your force’s weapons, but I’ll be providing the needed supplies.”
“So it’s mine now? The thermals?”
“After the job.” Columbus nodded.
Marcus grunted, pausing just enough to take the bottle of virtual beer and opening it against the tabletop. “So, what’s the job?”
“I need tunnel fighters. I got enough clues on my quest and found out that there is another rail line network underneath the current underground metro. I don’t know where it leads to, but I suspect nothing good. That’s why I need your forces who are able to fight and find their way underground.”
“Okay. When and how long will this take?”
“Don’t know how long.” Columbus shrugged. “But as for when, I can schedule my day off for when we set off. Preferably, this weekend so I could get two days off following the weekend and get three days free. But if this quest happens to take more than that, then we could just stop and try it for another time. It looks to be the final part of the quest line I’m following, and by the looks of it, it would be a challenge.”
“What do you think you’ll find at the end of it?”
“Could be the holy grail, but it could also be just a peanut butter sandwich. I don’t know, which is why we’re trying to find out. Any other questions?” Columbus replied.
Marcus could only nod. The response wasn’t like Columbus. He was hiding something, but that usually comes with the job. The Smoking Barrels wasn’t the best location to talk logistics and specific information about quests and he also wouldn’t even fault the man for keeping some things for himself. “All right, this weekend.” He said. He would still have two days for himself to think, along with it being enough time to get his personal quest sorted.
“Also, I’d like you to know that I did my part of spreading the word among my circles. If none contacted you, then it seems like they just weren’t interested in joining in clan fights as they tend to be messy.” He said. “Also, a piece of advice?”
“Go ahead.”
“It won’t be the last you’ll see of them. The SRT will try to find a way to pay you back.”
“I know,” Marcus replied. “I’ll message you the list.” He then opened up his screen and navigated through the interface. He had saved his estimated munitions consumption for his little force per day of engagement. Multiplying it by two, and adding more as a safety buffer for unique situations, he had his list.
ITEMS:
6 crates 7.62x39mm
2 crates M61 Frag grenade
2 crates Road Flares
1 crate M84 stun grenade
2 box of Glowsticks
2 units of Lamps
Survey equipment
7 boxes of MRE
6 boxes of chocolate bars
“I understand the need for the MREs, but really? Chocolates?” Columbus asked after reading the list.
“What can I say? The boys like them.” Marcus shrugged. “But don’t worry, I already had a dozen or so of my goblins relatively well equipped each with AKMs, Type 62 vests, Urban Digital Cadpat ponchos to break out the silhouettes. For backpacks, they got Alice packs, and each fighter is able to carry 40 pounds of gear comfortably. They’ll be able to take with them all they should need in that two day operation. They don’t need lights on their rifles since they could already see well under little light. In the tunnels, they should be able to fight just as well as they are on the surface.”
“Fine. I’ll have it all ready by then.” Columbus replied.
“You got it.” Marcus replied. Columbus nodded and left while Marcus sat by himself. He still has some time for himself, now to address the little prick on his side, his unfinished quest.
Quest:
Your Father’s guitar.
Leaving your previous job as a bar musician in a small town, you took everything you had and sold the rest except for your father’s beaten guitar he had passed down to you. Too bulky for luggage, you had it sent separately in a fast hauler to arrive before your arrival.
Quest type: Personal Quest
Requirements: Track your package and retrieve it.
It was a quest that had been a long time coming. What was likely a quest that should have been the first thing done got pushed into the back burner. Now that things have settled down somewhat with him having some means of keeping himself off the streets, he could finally get to cross it off his list.
Marcus entered the ship’s post office to find the same harried man running the place. Looking through the cage and into the back, Marcus could see the shelves were better stocked, and he only hoped that it would be a straightforward affair of picking up the package and moving on. But of course, it wasn’t the case.
“I’m terribly sorry, sir. But your package hasn’t arrived and has been written off as a loss. We have the paperwork for it and we can only provide you with reimbursement for the value of the package itself. Again, I’m terribly sorry, sir.” The man said, bowing his head over the counter.
“No problem,” Marcus replied. “Do you have some sort of tracking so that I could at least have a place to start to find my shit?”
“I’ll be happy to help, sir. Since the information pertaining to your package is technically also yours, there shouldn’t be any issue regarding it. Give me a few minutes, sir.”
Marcus waited as the man pulled up the information and handed it to him. He read the logs where it travelled from a high speed freighter originating from his character’s home planet, arriving to terminus, arriving at only space elevator still intact within Terminus 3, to some distribution area to another with the log ending with a report of it departing, Evinsburg, a city a hundred kilometers south of the Light of the Stars, and never arriving at the ship.
Looking at it, combing the area between the two cities was looking to be an effort not worth it if it's just to find an old guitar. Still, the package was lost on transit, which meant that it was a certainty that it was attacked. He wouldn’t have to comb the whole hundred kilometer route to find the package on the side of the road as if it just fell off the truck, if it hadn’t been already destroyed, then it would have been taken as loot and stored some place.
All he needed was to find whoever attacked the cargo, and he would find his package. Easy.
“I know this would likely breach your privacy rules, but can I ask if there are other people that’s had this same problem come to your office lately? It would be better if I wouldn’t have to do this on my own after all. In return, if I happen to come upon more of your lost packages, I’ll be sure to turn it over to you.” Marcus said.
A conflicted look passed through the man’s face. He then turned around to look at the shelves behind him and sighed. “I’ll do what I can sir.” He said, tapping away at his terminal and passed a list over.
Felix ID: 905254742589
Steel ID: 867809381162
Roadblock ID: 295460918621
Bowie ID: 178362991598
“Appreciate it.” Marcus said, thanking the man and left the office.
Now, Marcus wondered how well it would turn out with him contacting the players out of the blue, and if they would be willing to give up information or if they even have an inkling of it in the first place.
Conversations melded into each other and formed into an ever present hum as Marcus took another swig off his beer as he sat on the table alone. Despite the noise, he liked it as it added to the tone of the bar. It reminded him of the bars he used to frequent with his boys as they spent the night after a long day’s work and bullshitting the night away.
“Those were the times.” Marcus muttered to himself, taking another swig from the bottle. All the players he contacted through the short list either told him to fuck off or had nothing to help him with, putting him to back to first base. Of course, it wasn’t like he expected much to come out of it and so the rejections and the lack of new information slid off him like water off a duck’s back. The ship’s chat also gleaned him nothing, forcing Marcus to reach out to his last method of getting information.
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A seat opened up by the bar counter and Marcus went for it after taking a swig off his drink. He plopped onto the stool and gave the bartender a look. The bartender gave him a slow nod, and offered, “Name your poison.”
“Whiskey. Straight. The one you keep in the oak barrels.”
“We don’t use wooden barrels anymore, boss.”
“Really? A friend told me you do. Give me what you have then, on the rocks.”
Unlike the last time where the bartender had to go to the back before giving him the phone, he reached under the bar and simply laid it on top, along with his drink. The satellite phone rang as Marcus waited for the other side to pick up. Marcus downed the glass of whiskey in a single swig, almost coughing as he felt the liquid burn its way down his throat and settling in his stomach with a warm glow.
Click. “How may I help you?” An electronically filtered voice answered on the other side.
“I need to know who might be responsible for attacking the delivery truck, UC249, that was travelling between Evinsburg and The Light of the Stars.” Marcus said.
“We’ll have it for you shortly.” The voice said, followed by the bartender laying a reader on the bar with a bill of 30,000c. Expensive for just a few bits of information, but unavoidable. Marcus said goodbye to a pack of real Martian beer as he scanned his own card and confirmed the transfer. Marcus then ordered another drink as he waited and a thick envelope arrived with a second glass of whiskey.
Marcus picked up the envelope, noticing the heft. He then finished the whiskey once more under one swig and went to the safest place Marcus knew inside the ship; inside Stoner’s armory.
Taking an empty table at the back of Stoner’s shop, Marcus laid everything inside the envelope onto the table. It contained loads of information pertaining to known bandit locations. He had overhead satellite images, even mugshots of the leaders taken before the war and their jobs prior, but supporting documents coming from their local government confirmed their destruction, save for one. It was a cluster of strip malls and commercial buildings by the edge of the city, and was unfortunately near the suburbs, where the SRT was setting up as their base.
It would only be a matter of time before the SRT finishes setting up and proceed to start clearing the surrounding area. The scav group would likely be the first location for them to hit and risk losing Marcus’ package to them. If that happens, it would be like pulling teeth to get his quest finished.
Marcus leaned back in his chair and looked over the aerial photo of the camp. There were at least 20 people visible walking on the grounds with more expected inside. It would be a safe estimate for the whole camp to contain double that. Marcus sighed. This quest seemed to be coming out as much more trouble than it's worth.
Tossing the photo into the pile, the operation would have to be conducted silently. Ylenka and the Honest Scribes will probably be able to get it done, but it would be awkward for Marcus to start asking them for help right after putting off her offer of creating a clan. Ylenka would likely help him, but Marcus would rather not have that over his head.
The next option would have to be taking his dozen goblin squad for a spin. Surely they could use some field experience, but getting into a fight with another group with superior numbers within a known enemy’s backyard could prove to be a little too much. Going there alone, trying to get in and out with his quest item like a stealth mission, would only end up with him getting caught and killed.
Marcus sighed, picking up the map again. Two days. He’ll have to do it within two days. Might as well give them a test run before the big game.
Marcus rocked the magazine into the well and pulled at the charging handle. Tipping the rifle slightly to the side in order to check the chamber and make sure the rounds fed well. He released the bolt forward and Marcus saw the blue tips of the 9x39mm SPP rounds seated in the magazine slide forward smoothly. Designed to take out targets within 200 meters silently for special force’s purposes, it was perfect for this rushed operation.
The night was dark, the planet’s twin moons covered by a thick overcast sky. Marcus moved through the dark streets using a pair of NVGs he looted off Crusty’s group. His goblin squad followed close, unbothered by the darkness that would cause any human to trip and fall.
Marcus had the squad tie up and secure their equipment tight before moving out in the operation, even inspecting them all personally and having them do jumping jacks to make sure that nothing jingled in their gear and had all reflective surfaces blacked.
Through the green filters of his NVG, the dark mall complex loomed ahead. They have covered their windows with blinds, but firelight still crept through the cracks and they glowed like stars under Marcus’ aided vision. Guards were posted, but their demeanor openly showed that they are more concerned with keeping warm against the cold rather than being concerned about a coming attack.
A light flickered a hundred meters up ahead, illuminating the face of the hostile scavenger as he lit up his cigarette. He wasn’t alone. Another scav stood close by, and he passed over the lighter for the other scav to light up his smoke.
Moving closer, Marcus could hear the two converse in low voices. Marcus then raised his rifle and activated his PEQ-15 IR laser/designator and canted his rifle for the beam to hover above his bore. Zeroed at a hundred meters, all Marcus had to do was center the laser dot on his target and fire a couple of rounds. Marcus watched as his first target dropped. He then shifted his aim to the other scav who was just processing what happened, and squeezed another set of rounds.
The second Scav dropped. None of the other sentries were alerted, and Marcus continued closing to the building. Studying the data package he received from the shadow broker, he found that it even contained floor plans of the building, open spaces that is likely repurposed to be a barracks, an internal room with concrete walls that would perfectly serve as an armory and a wide space near the back where loot would be kept.
It would also be the most guarded part of the Scav base. But that was the reason Marcus decided to move at the dead of night, a time when the scavengers would likely spend their time sleeping. Moving past the sentries’ bodies, and like the gods had somehow given their support, rain started pouring.
The drops started out as isolated trickle, which soon developed into a cold, pelting torture to whoever is left standing out in the open. Marcus couldn’t have asked for more. The rain provided white noise, which covered their footsteps while also keeping the sentries distracted as they bothered more to keep warm than looking out.
Marcus came upon a pair roving the grounds, both men hustled forward to complete their patrol and get back into cover. The two didn’t notice Marcus and his group and he signalled everyone to hold their fire as they shadowed the two, who were more concerned about getting out of the rain.
Marcus spent hours burning the building’s floor plan into his brain and knew that they were steadily moving towards the barracks area. Instead of coming in from the front, they circled to the back of the mall, then headed for a metal door.
Now knowing the safe way inside, Marcus raised his rifle to take them out. Marcus aimed his laser at the trailing man and sent a couple of rounds. The armor-piercing rounds found the base of his skull and he dropped to the ground, limp. The noise made by his comrade after hitting the ground caused the leading scav to pause and turn around, which gave Marcus a clean shot where he landed a couple of shots center-mass.
Reaching the door they were going for, Marcus had the goblins stack up. He changed mags and changed his PEQ-15’s settings to a simple light and looked at the goblins. Gabs and Fleex, now promoted to lead their own team of five each, both nodded. They were as ready as they could be. Marcus had trained them as best as he could with the time and resources he had available, and they could see this operation as their graduation exam.
Marcus pulled his NVG up and opened the door to breach. He was the first in the stack, sweeping his aim to lines of bunks which were mostly occupied by sleeping scavs. One was sitting by a fire, tending to it to keep everyone warm. He looked up at their entrance as he tossed a log into the burning barrel. His eyes widened at their arrival as he realized that they were not the two scavs supposed to come back from their patrol.
Marcus squeezed the trigger twice. The scav jerked at the impact of the heavy, subsonic rounds and crumpled to the floor. The report was nothing more than a loud sneeze, but was still enough to stir the scav sleeping closest to Marcus awake. He turned to look and with groggy eyes, tried to open them up to full to check, only to receive a bullet to the face as the rest of the goblins filled into the room.
“Go loud. Go loud.” Marcus ordered as more figures started stirring about. A dozen rifles opened up at his order and rounds ripped at the sleeping figures.
Chaos ensued. Roused by the loud reports of a dozen unsuppressed rifles, everyone responded by jumping off their bunks as soon as they realized what was happening, but their efforts turned out to be in vain. Only a couple of scavs managed to reach for their weapons and tried to fight back, only to be torn by a volley of fire.
“Fleex. Take out the sentries outside, make sure they don’t come up behind us.” Marcus ordered and Fleex obeyed, taking his squad outside and leaving Gabs with him.
Marcus looked at the other squad and signalled for them to follow him. Ahead was the base’s armory. There would surely be some juicy loot stored there, but it wasn’t the reason they came here in the first place. Arriving at the armory, Marcus only made a cursory check and saw that it was locked from the outside with a metal door secured with a welded latch and a heavy padlock.
Marcus led the way forward, going for the storage room. Voice sounded ahead, panicked, and harried. A loud voice was trying to rally whoever was still alive from the barracks to mount a defense, only to come upon a fully armed group waiting for him.
With a pair of shots, Marcus took him out and forced the others following him to double back into safety. “You two, hold this hallway. Shields forward.” Marcus ordered, and the two he pointed at obeyed the order. The worst shot in the squad moved forward, positioning himself to one side of the hallway, giving cover to the two behind as he took a knee. With that, his comrades would shoot over his head while he keeps the shield deployed. Marcus didn’t envy the goblin, simply wishing him luck as he opened the door and breached the storeroom.
The room was dark. Marcus activated his light and panned between the shelves to make sure that there was nobody hiding inside and found it clear. Ordering the rest of Gabs’ squad to go back to the hallway to make sure that they keep it, Marcus opened his screen.
Quest:
Your Father’s guitar.
Leaving your previous job as a bar musician in a small town, you took everything you had and sold the rest except for your father’s beaten guitar he had passed down to you. Too bulky for luggage, you had it sent separately in a fast hauler to arrive before your arrival.
Quest type: Personal Quest
Requirements: Track your package and retrieve it. (5m)
Like a game of hot and cold, Marcus used the quest screen to pinpoint his package against the stacks and stacks of ill-gotten loot. Standing above the package, it was kept in a pelican case with the delivery seal broken. He opened the case to find an old, beaten and well worn guitar. Jackpot.
Marcus closed the case and secured the lid. The case was designed with the ability to be dragged and so Marcus simply shoved it to the door, already wishing that he should have chosen a harmonica instead.
The goblins have taken the hallway. Two more bodies lay in the hall. The goblins had dominated the sector and even moved up. Looking around, Marcus also found that Gabs took the initiative and left a goblin to cover their rear. Fleex still hasn’t come back yet and with the sounds of gunfire outside, they were busy.
“Fleex. Report.” Marcus called through the radio. He had given the squad leaders a radio each, knowing well how vital communications were in a fight. A best, heavily armed team would be useless if they wouldn’t be able to get to the battle, and by that same logic a barely armed group could make all the difference in a fight if they happen to be in the right place at the right time.
“Holding. We fighting five. We okay.” Fleex replied via the radio. Sounds of fighting came through the receiver, but Marcus didn’t hear the tell tale snap of a round flying close. They were fine.
“I found something.” Gabs said, passing a keyring filled with jangling keys. Marcus angled the keys to catch the light when a thought came to him.
“Might as well,” Marcus said, throwing the keys back to Gabs. “Open the armory and see what they got in there.” He said. He knew he was getting greedy. Marcus already had the quest item with him and getting out should be the priority.
Still, by getting out with only the guitar, he will be falling into the red in this operation. He would have to reward his goblins after this, and if he didn’t come up with anything more than just his guitar, then he would have to pay them out of pocket.
Gabs ran off to open the armory before Marcus even had a chance to change his mind. Looking at the trio holding the hallway and confirming that they had it locked down, Marcus went back to the storage and started taking packages off the shelves, remembering his promise with the post office guy.
Marcus took a thick plastic bag off his pack and started taking the opened packages. Looking at some, they all looked to be useless trinkets, and Marcus prioritized the smaller ones in order to get as much as he could with the least bulk. He would be helping more players this way too, which is nice.
The gunfire outside petered off as Marcus finished packing the stolen cargo. For a second, Marcus wondered why the scavengers kept the packages still intact and not just threw them away, but he simply tossed it off to some game design.
Getting out, Marcus met Gabs, who had also finished packing the weapons. A large and heavy looking canvas bag lay at his feet with all members of his squad sporting a second rifle slung on their shoulders. He nodded. If the guns turn out to be not worth the effort selling, he could just let them keep it.
Leading everyone outside, the pouring rain had developed into a downpour. There was poor visibility all around, which was another boon for Marcus. Radioing Fleex, he confirmed that they had secured their lines of retreat and all they needed now was to walk out of the location, and on his command, they did just that.
Under the downpour, Marcus looked back with his NVG and saw the place on fire. Pops sounded from the building as loose rounds cooked off in the blaze. If the SRT manages to stumble upon this place, then they could just take whatever was left for themselves. This place is nothing to him now.