It took far more than a minute for MC to go over everything. It, in fact, took the remaining time he had until Geko checked in, and I let myself out.
It felt like ten million years had passed. One of the upsides of going off on a sketchy mission was that I could renegotiate my contract afterward. I don’t know that I would. I mean multiple millions of credits. If I wanted to, I could strike out alone or retire.
Before I did that, though, I needed to fill back up, hit the station and get going.
I headed out of the bridge and checked in at logistics to get them to fill my boat up before heading to the canteen. They would charge my account, and I could go and do my thing while they did it; I trusted them enough not to be there while they filled it up. The canteen, as always, was a bit dingy and smelled like smoke, but it didn't take away from the food or drink. I went to the bar, got a meal and a beer, and took a smoke where I wouldn’t get yelled at for setting off a smoke alarm.
After the short meal and the pint, I decided to get on with my day. Down corridors towards the docking arm and into the station, I reached the tube where the ship reached the docking arm. It was, on the inside, a spiral staircase. I pulled myself up off the ground to float before ascending a good distance. After I started slowing down, I pulled myself over and onto the stairs and started climbing. Climbing the liminal tube up until I reached a flat room.
There were two guards standing there, their uniform had a reflective visor, and had a boring look like they were a kind of mass-produced product. I gave the guards a nod and we did the classic.
“Please declare any and all weapons before entering the Isadore, any and all ranged weapons will be temporarily seized as is mandated by the governor.” The guard declared.
The other guard foisted a medium length weapon of his own. It was black polymer on the outside, but I recognized a newer version of my peacemaker.
Based on the outside it was probably a few decades newer maybe, a 3070 or 3080 Marine Lawmaker. Black Polymer over metal insides designed to shoot a glob of hot plastic instead of a metal round that could accidentally punch a hole and vent us each into space. It was hard to tell the different models apart because the insides were covered, but I knew the pump was picked on the 70’s and 80’s over the older lever. It made it look like there uniform.
I complied, lifting my hands, and telling the guard, “Only my sword, I know the rules when it comes to firearms.”
He nodded before approaching me and giving me a pat down, he found the radio and headset, my lighter and smokes. All my bits and bobs he checked before leaving, he even attempted to lift the blade but couldn’t, so he nodded and continued. He was thorough with his check, but it only took half a minute.
He stood back up, blacked out face plate not showing anything.
“That’s a good grip the blade has, at least we don’t have to give you a tie. Welcome aboard the Isadore mam.”
I nodded to him, “Have a good day guardsman.”
I passed him and the silent gun toting guard, back around to the second stairway above the first. Climbed the small spiral stairway up and onto the station proper, a segment of the outer ring, shaped more like a small hangar, with a rail line leading through the center.
Turning around after clearing the stairs I found a wall, most places had one. The walls were the easy way to tell a traveler everything they needed to know about. The time, a basic map, the ‘Times of day and night’ and a few more things that often changed from station to station. I checked the wall and checked my timepiece. I was a bit off, but that was fine. Time keeping was a massive pain in the ass, not just on and around a planet, but in general.
The Big Golems, or as some religious groups put them the Archangels, had standardized times. I had asked Doc about why clocks like mine needed to be changed so frequently.
He told me, in his monotone voice. “I do not mean to indicate you have sub-standard rational facility’s when I state this, however you do not have the proper education to understand the answer. I can ask Gabriel if you would like to learn, recommend writings from him that you might read to learn.”
I had not wanted to, but I took him up on it and got a tiny scrap of writing from Doc with a list of available texts a few hundred titles long with annotations on what they teach given to him by Gabriel. The list was worth a few hundred thousand credits.
I only purchased one of them, because I was not looking to understand the true shape of the universe or whatever but asking for a basic grasp on why I had to change my time piece all the time.
Each ship had a time, each station had a time, and every planet had a time and they all disagreed on what the ‘time’ was. Most of the time, it was small though, like now.
Checking the time in comparison to the station I found that it was early in the afternoon, and that the tram into the inner ring would be here in a few minutes, which was nice.
I stepped over to the platform and boarded the tram with minimal fuss, taking a seat and rode the tram up into the center segment. Thankfully I was the only one on the tram other than the driver. Moving between the segments could often result in the use of a barf bag if you were one of the huge number of people that experienced normal balance. Lucky me.
I exited into the main station, found my way to a map, found my locations after a few minutes and started walking up the stairs and onto the street above.
The narrow road was more cramped than the roads of a terrestrial planet, made for foot traffic or a bike, but the signs were just as functional. Everything on the station, like on a ship, was metal. The stairs lead up onto a metal grate that pulled air in, the walls of buildings were painted metal, and the road, while not metal, was stone or tile that rested on top of the metal road to give grip.
The road didn’t need to be metal thankfully, the rotation of the station was enough artificial gravity this close to the core that I didn’t need the magnetic shoes.
The ‘sky’ was lit up, but all the way down here the shadows were deep from the stacked structure of the inner city inside Isadore. Small lamps lit up the place instead, which was a nice touch, it made it possible to read the road signs.
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I started walking past tiny alleys and found my way to the first thing I needed to do. Drop off the credits I had into my account, because if they weren’t in my account, they didn’t exist.
When I made it to the building I walked to a terminal. It accepted my banking chit and a pass key later; I checked my account.
The money had already made it, all 14 million of it. I was as high as a kite, checking the amount made my mouth gape. I think my eyes popped out of my head a little.
¢14025087.
It was the most money I had ever seen in one place.
I took out a portion with a separate credit chit and deposited the rest of the chits I had with me, passing the empty chits from my raid to the confused looking banker behind the counter.
I must have had a terrible look on my face because she looked at me like they were hand grenades.
Oh, I was smiling, yeh that might do it.
I checked my smile, forcing my face into a more neutral expression before heading out.
My second stop was a weapon dealer, which was just across the road from the bank. What that might say about our society, or this segment of the station, was not on my mind. This segment must have been made for people like me, gun freaks. That or gangs. Probably gangs, but I wasn’t in a place to judge.
The store was named Theodores Armory. The shop was tucked in between two other buildings, little alleyways I could see passed onto a side street on either side of the building. There were no windows, although a few cameras were situated around the building. A ‘come in were open’ sign lay at the side of the doorway.
I walked in and took in the storefront, it was rather small, with only displays for what I could buy. I wasn’t going to judge keeping the merchandise in the back and away for grubby mercenaries like me. Especially if the counter was unmanned like it was.
A camera in the corner above the door to the back moved to follow me.
There were order forms that I could fill out, with a little cup of pencils at the front next to a genuine metal bell. I grabbed one of each and started looking through the displays, twiddling the knob to show different products.
I looked through one for munitions and found putty to shoot, I picked the block to save some cost and did some mental math to figure out how much I needed. Then I just picked a brick that weighed a pound, because why not, I was rich. I picked a few caps to put on my hand cannons as backups in case my ones broke, and filled up on shot the right size for me to fit into my custom bits. I wrote the amounts down and finally got to the good part.
There were a lot of guns, genuine explosive firearms like my hand cannons, railguns, coil guns, gas guns, the list went on and on. No cannons and no fancy tech weapon like a laser gun. That meant nothing .50 or larger, but that was to be expected, most people couldn’t shoot one, it was far too large for a weapon. Tech weapons stayed in the inner most of the planetary body’s, Luna, Raphael and Michael, they were good, but of course, no one wanted others to get the good stuff.
I found my way to a part that showed off coil guns, but they were longer, full length coil guns. Not what I wanted, but still decent. A few of them were more plastic than metal. Sleek future guns. Half of them had boxy covers that made them look like they would be a massive pain to use.
A few were bigger, made for super long-range shots.
I decided to ask for a bit of help. I moved to the front desk, and in a moment that had been coming for forever, I pinged the bell.
There was, after a moment a man exited the back. Brown hair, brown eyes and tan skin, he stood 6 and a half feet and came out with simple cloths, a little oil stained his shirt and the lip of his coveralls.
He had the four days without a shower look, facial hair covering his lower face, and arm hair covered his uncovered arms, up to a line that left his lower arm clear.
“Heya,” he said in a rough tenor, “You want to cash out?”
“Nah, I’m looking for a coil gun,” I told him, before I hooked a thumb back towards the display, “But you only have rifle length. I’m looking for something carbine length. Also, something with a capacity of more than one.”
He looked at me, scrutinizing my face. “And why would you need somthin like that?”
“Because I’m going to the Throne, and I don’t fancy myself, a dead woman walking. I need range, and less hearing damage.” I told him, glairing up at the tall man.
He stared down into my eyes, and I practically glared at him.
Whatever he saw made him nod. “Your rather small for a woman, I guess you need a smaller gun cuz your arms are all tiny. I think I have somethin I can sell. It’s new but should be ok. You a Merc?”
I stopped glaring at him like I was about to take a dump and nodded, “I am, I’m also fine with buying new stuff.”
He whistled, “Least you’re not one of them bad folk. I’m Theodore, what's yours?” He said it Thee oh door.
“I’m Bandit, good to meet you, Theodore.”
He looked back down at me, “Your makin me second guess giving you a gun.”
I sighed before telling him the simple answer, “It’s a job thing.”
He clicked his tongue and stared off into space for a second. Then he seemed to remember something and snaped his fingers.
“Right, you guys do that thing where you hide your names.” Pointing the finger gun at me, “Oh, follow me.” He spoke moving out to the door.
He opened the door, and I followed him around the counter and into the back.
“What’s with the fake name thing anyways? Always seemed dumb to me.” He said, leading the way through the front portion of what was very obviously an armory, guns and ammunition caged to keep out people.
“Well,” I started, “we do work that gets on people’s radar. We take people out, and those people generally work for other people. If we don’t want those guys to go and take it out on family, then we have to hide that. That’s why we use a Pseudonym. Can’t hunt our family’s if you don’t know who we are.” I told him, tapping my head.
“Ahh, makes sense, whoever came up with that’s one smart cookie.” He said, before stopping, and turning to a section. “Here’s the new stuff, a few shorter coil guns, take a look and write down the number on the order form.” He told me, before walking back to the form.
He is… rather chill. He just left me back here alone? I suppose he has the cameras back here.
I walked over and took a look. There were a few slim models mirroring the ones in the front, made from the same people. Two of them caught my eye, but one more so than the other.
The first looked very standard. A Desmos gun. Smooth and tube shaped, the exterior was stamped metal, but it was smooth as hell, the seam was a smooth bead like a wire. Painted tan with orange red trim.
The only problem was that it was a single shot, a simple trap door. The second one was… well, less showy.
It was at first glance, a firearm. Until I recognized the telltale stock shape and the line that chased the underside of the barrel. A simple tube lay under the barrel, separated by only by the small spacer that must have hooked into the coils.
The thing that made me pick it over the sleeker ones? The barrel and tube were hexagonal, and I loved sixes. That and the lever.
It screamed, ‘I don’t care if I’m the boring one, I get things done.’
I checked the details on it, a few leaflets of paper hooped to the display the gun was in.
Y&I 3097 Repeating Coil Carbine. Sonic and Subsonic, accurate out to 300 feet. Smooth bore to fire everything from slugs to proper sabots.
It practically called me to it, it was a gun I could fall in love with.
I wrote it down, and quickly wrote down the type of ammunition it would take, practically hoping my way to the front and giving Theodore my sheet.
“How quickly can you have this filled by, I don't mean to be a pain, but I need to get on my way quickly.” I told him.
He squinted at the sheet for a moment before muttering about tiny handwriting and taking out a pair of spectacles.
It made him look, to me, funny. A big hairy guy with a tiny set of glasses. Glasses were a rare thing, I wondered why he needed them.
“Yeh, I can get this ready in a little. An hour tops, come back and I’ll have everything packed up for you. You want to pay now or at pick up?” he asked.
“I can pay now, I have a chit ready,” I told him.
He made a mmhm and walked back out into the front.
He gave me a little recite; the price would have rocked my socks off if I wasn’t suddenly a rich gal.
¢174000.
That’s a lot of credit, but when I walked out into the street and then into the alley to take a smoke, the vent drawing the smoke while the tiny smoke lit my face, I was smiling like an idiot.