Prospect, Tower 07, Daisuke Station

Dell directs the corpo craft as best he can.

The conditions coming into the Mega City had been rough, but manageable. Now, with a storm blowing in, he has to put his weight into directing the craft. He keeps the vessel on course with grit and luck, but Dell needs to land it as soon as possible. Worth is aware of this, and hovers over the grumlian as he struggles to keep standing in the turbulence.

“Level sixty-three. Six. Three. Station is designated as Daisuke Station.” Worth tries to keep his cool, although Dell can feel the anxiety in his words, “Can’t you fly straight?!”

“Apparently not!” Dell snaps, pointing to the other side of the cockpit, “Why dontcha make yourself useful. Contact your buds, make sure they got the door open for us!”

Worth scrambles around the cockpit as Dell tries to make sense of the tower. Tower 07 registers on the ship's computer, letting Dell see which levels are open and which aren’t. Unfortunately, the ship displays that information on another screen to the right of Dell. Every time he looks away for a moment to make sure his heading is correct, he can feel the ship slip from his control and he has to snap back to keep it flying.

Needless to say, Dell isn’t the happiest. Alive, sure, but he doesn’t have the goods. He isn’t looking forward to explaining to Mr. Hays what happened to the package. Prospect was supposed to be a place to lie low from the Fallen Stars and make some money. Now it seems like he’ll have to start asking around for coordinates to new hunting grounds.

He pulls the ship up one more time, finally finding the right hanger at the last moment. He pulls the craft in and slams on the reverse thrusters; the entire craft shakes and he can hear cries of surprise as everyone lurches forward. Dell himself is nearly thrown from the cockpit, yet by some luck he manages to land the craft, the bay doors closing behind him. He lets go of the controls and powers the engines down, takes a comb out from his overalls, and runs it through his wet hair.

“Fuck.” Is all Dell can muster as he feels himself melt into the seat. All of the anxiety and close calls he had hit him all at once, and he can’t help but laugh, “Fuck man, that wasn’t okay!”

“You good?” Worth asks.

“OH!” Dell bounces back, “Oh I feel great!” He lets out a whoop, “Who knew flying a fucking metal brick could be so hair-raising!”

“Right...” Worth says, “Just... put the door down so we can get out of here.”

“Way ahead of ya!”

The bay doors of the corpo ship open; the staircase doesn’t even lower all the way before the remaining, able-bodied, scavengers pour out of the ship. Some kiss the concrete floor, thankful to be alive, others vomit from motion sickness. The hanger bay is spacious, with only a handful of void and terrestrial craft occupying other spaces. Through the cockpit window, Dell can see a sprawl of buildings, most of them built out of decommissioned ships and cargo containers. All of them are gathered around a great central pillar, with neon lights and signs all over it.

“Least they’re alive,” Dell remarks as he turns around, seeing his partner with her helmet off, her skin somewhat pale, “You good?”

“Think I broke a knee,” Domitia admits.

“Shit, uh, you good?” Dell asks again, a bit more concerned.

“I’ll be fine.” Domitia says, “My body is already working to restore the damaged bone, tissue, and joint.”

“But it hurts. I mean, that’s gotta hurt right?”

Domitia shrugs, “Been hurt worse.” She stomps around, slipping out of her armor with a grunt, “Needs a little maintenance. EMP got it.” The armor then locks, keeping it stationary.

“Shit. Figured as much, we’ll have to look at it later.” Dell says,

Suddenly an electronic chime begins to ring from the cockpit. Dell spends a good minute looking for the source of the noise before finding a flashing switch labeled ‘direct line.’ Dell hesitates before flipping the switch, fully aware of who is waiting on the other end.

“Howdy, Frax,” Dell says.

“Mr. Caliger,” Frax starts, “Our system registers that you have entered the Mega City, and are currently parked at Tower 07. Have you acquired the shards as requested?”

Dell turns around, looking at Domitia with a hint of desperation. The bellator stops mid-swig of water, shrugs, and goes back to chugging water. Dell decides to tactically use the truth.

“Well, to be honest, Frax, we are…still on the hunt for them.” Dell says, doing his best to try and find the right words, “We think someone snatched ‘em.”

“And why would you think that?” Frax asks, hints of frustration in his words.

“Box was lasered off the wall. Looks like someone else was after them.” Dell explains.

“That... Is disappointing.”

Dell passively checks for any systems going red or any missile locks. Yes, he did check the ship top to bottom, but he never rests easily on corpo ships.

“We suspect our thieves are somewhere on the tower.” It isn’t exactly a lie, but Dell is reaching this point. “We’re going to check with the respectable businessmen and women and see what we can dig up.”

Frax is quiet for a moment, “Seventy-two hours. Mr. Caliger. We are investing quite a lot in you. Tick-tock.”

The line goes silent, and Dell curses, “Oh shit, we’re in trouble.” Dell then looks out onto the dock, a crowd of mercs now confronting Worth and Lady, “Oh double shit... More company.”

Domitia takes her belt and jacket off the wall-mounted hooks, throws them on, and then holsters the pistol that was previously on her power armor, “Let’s hope they’re friendly.”

“Hope so.”

Dell and Domitia step off the ship, walking into the middle of a light disagreement. The mercenaries confronting the scavengers aren’t the typical hired punks Dell is used to seeing. They’re well dressed - almost like they’re mimicking corpo operators. Vests and ties, with nice looking dress shirts, they almost look respectable. Their arms look paid for, SMGs and shotguns. They keep their spacing too, telling Dell that they’re not amateurs.

“I send you with twelve guys, you come back with six! Six! I already paid them upfront, I ain’t getting them back!”

“Not my fucking fault! Was that--”

“Don’t you go blaming others! The fault falls on your head if a job goes south!”

One of the voices is Worth, obviously, but the other sounds oddly familiar to Dell. He hops onto Domitia’s shoulder to get a better look at the scene. Worth is currently being accosted by a humanoid half his size, a grumlian no less. He’s stouter than Dell, balding, with sideburns that could probably get a lift if he ran fast enough. His tail swings back and forth, rings and studs shining in the low, hanger bay light. Like the mercs that surround him, he’s in a three-piece suit, blue tie with a dark blue vest and jacket.

“And where's your fucking ship!” The grumlian points at the corpo ship, “Whos--” The stout grumlian blinks and looks at the bounty hunters, squinting, “Dell?!”

Then it clicks for Dell, “Sonny?!”

“Dell Caliger! You sonovabitch!”

Dell leaps off his partner’s shoulder, the two grumlians meeting and hugging, sharing a hearty chuckle.

“Shit! Let me look at you!” Sonny steps back, “Fuck, you ain’t a kid anymore. I barely recognize you!”

“Hard life does that!” Dell says, “Looks like you’ve been enjoying the finer things.”

“Oh go fuck yourself!” Sonny laughs, slapping Dell on the shoulder, “Who’s dis?” He points to the bellator.

“My partner, Domitia.”

“Domitia.” Sonny looks Domitia over, “Fuck you’re big.”

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“Thanks,” Domitia replies.

“I didn’t know you could handle an aug that size--”

“Nah nah nah, we’re business partners,” Dell immediately dismisses the thought, “Ain’t anything like that.”

“Ah, got it,” Sonny says, “Come on, let’s get you two somewhere warm. Get some real grub.”

---

Somewhere warm turns out to be in the column itself. The great central column holds within it a hive of offices, shops, and apartments where the majority of people live. They’d traveled there by grav-rail, trams that ran the length of the tower, ferrying cargo and people around the level. It isn’t anything grand, but it beats walking.

On the way there, Dell gets a good look at the rusty, cobbled-together buildings that surround the column. They’re mostly shops - peddling wares to those who’re just stopping by the tower. Some of them look like homes, made out of whatever they could get their hands on.

The interior of the tower is bathed in as much neon as the exterior, with the flickering lights that run along the ceiling drowned out by the various signs and ads that line the wall. Some of the ads Dell sees make him chuckle, shilling brands for products and corps that went under with Horizon. It weirdly comforts him, like walking through a time capsule.

The residents of the tower were a mixture of all sorts. Humans, gremlins, konii, felius, Dell even saw an odd toak squeezing his way through the narrow halls. The humans were definitely Euros, Dell picking up on their strange language he could never understand; he’d lost interest in learning it when he learned how they count to one hundred. The grumlians were definitely from Aro-Four-Two, his own home rock. The gold piercings in their tails signaled that much to Dell. The konii and felius were an odd mix. Konii had early on immigrated to human settlements during the Blight, so most of them spoke and acted like they were from Europa or Unity. The felius were definitely more traditional, wearing stylized mouth coverings and long flowing gowns of dull colors.

The inside of the tower is densely populated, with most of it being dedicated to living spaces of some kind. Here and there, Dell can make out stores and businesses of different kinds. Some look local, others look like franchises you’d find on Mayden. He even sees a gun store, Liberty Arms, with it advertising an attached shooting range. Dell makes a mental note of that.

“Close to a million people in this tower. Things have only smoothed over recently.” Sonny explains as they take an elevator further up the tower. “Dawn Company put up a fight to keep this place.”

“They’re still kickin’?” Dell asks.

“Believe it or not, yes,” Sonny pulls out a fat stogie from his jacket pocket, looking at it for a moment before offering it to Dell. Dell takes it, and Sonny lights it for him, “When Horizon went under, their hired guns didn’t tuck tail. Turns out you can still find a way to make money if you got enough firepower.”

The already small elevator struggles to contain Domitia, Worth, and Lady who stand at the back of the ascending room. They take the brunt of the rising smoke as Dell takes a long puff.

“Shocking,” Domitia comments dryly.

Sonny chuckles as he pulls another stogie out from his pocket, clenching it in his teeth, “I like her, keep her around.”

“I’ll do my best,” Dell says as he takes a puff.

There’s a chime and the doors open onto another floor, although the amount of people milling about has dropped drastically. Directly in front of the elevator, a neon sign reads ‘Sonny Days’ with a blinking sun above it. From inside Dell can hear laughter, and as he gets closer, can smell tobacco and vapor in the air.

“Come on in, the place is all mine.” Sonny says, motioning with his hand before spinning around and pointing to Worth and Lady, “Not you two, go to your rooms and wait. I’ll talk to y’all separately.”

The duo of bounty hunters follow closely behind as Worth and Lady turn and make their way down another hallway. The doors open and Dell blinks a few times as smoke and bright yellow lights spill into the dim hallway. The bar is fancy, even for Dell - it is managed by red suit wearing humanoids of all stripes. Dancers entertain the guests from atop grav-suspended platforms, barely decent and running the spectrum from male to female and everything in between. A band on a stage plays fiery, brassy jazz, keeping the energy in the lounge lively.

“Nice place,” Dell says, “How the hell did you swing this?”

“Little bit of gambling, and old-fashioned blood, sweat, and tears,” Sonny explains with a chuckle. “The fine, respectable kind need a place to unwind and relax. And I also got an arrangement with the Reverends.”

“They’re the proprietors of the tower?” Domitia asks.

Sonny cranes his neck around to look at Domitia, “Of a sort,” He turns back around, “They handle most of the security, though not all the levels are monitored. The ones that got their blessing get all the protection they need, for a small fee of course.”

“Right,” Domitia replies.

“Come on,” Sonny points a stubby finger down another hall, “Show you my office.”

Sonny leads Dell and Domitia down a narrow hallway that bends around and ends in a double door. Unlike the one in the club, this one is an old-style door, made of real oak, shining with fresh polish. Sonny presses against the doors, swinging them open into an office. The bounty hunters enter after him, Domitia closing the doors on her way in. A dark oak table dominates one end, a large window looking out to the station behind it. To the left, a bar sits ready for service, and all sorts of liquors shine in the warm amber light of the office. The other side is host to an Altar to Father Creation. A glittering idol to the grumlian deity of all things mineral and material stands in the center of a small garden of bonsai trees and flowers, a water feature trickling all around it.

Dell whistles, “Sheesh, didn’t know you were still a praying man.”

“I ain’t but it’s good luck.” Sonny says as he takes his spot at his desk, letting out a sigh as he sinks into the leather chair, “Now. To biz. Why were you on that ship?”

“Client wanted something off it.” Domitia answers simply, “Box we were after wasn’t there.”

“Fascinating,” Sonny says taking a puff before turning to Dell, “Dell, what’s the ‘something?’”

Dell hesitates, looking over to Domitia, who is very clearly still adjusting to this whole situation. Dell knows Domitia doesn’t do well in crowds or loud clubs, not to mention she isn’t exactly a fan of working with the ‘fine and respectable’ kind of criminals. Dell, once a fine and respectable kind, has more understanding of types like Sonny. Dell understands that Sonny’s asking because he needs more information to work with. Otherwise, he can’t help, and Dell knows Sonny, even though it’s a lifetime ago: he’s a good one, a great one even.

“Pottery shards,” Dell answers plainly, “Client’s a rich guy from the mountains, paying us good dollars for them.”

Sonny ponders this for a moment, “No shit? Real Unity Bucks?”

“Crisp. Can still smell the ink.” Dell says.

Sonny snorts, smoke coming out of his nose, “Well shit. Guess we’re both screwed.” He leans forward, “How’d they do it?”

“Hidey-hole job.” Dell keeps it brief, “Hid themselves in the vault. Probably waited till they were coming in for the final approach to start it. Poisoned the crew too.”

“Damn, reminds me of that gig on Arto.” Sonny says, “Member that aug we hired? Skinny?”

“Course I remember! Was bitching for weeks after we pulled it off how he had to get new cyber fingers.” Dell laughs.

“They stole Worth’s ship.” Domitia interjects, “Probably a good place to start.”

Sonny turns his attention back to Domitia, “Right. I got people working on that.” He leans forward a bit, narrowing his eyes, “You a bellator?”

“Yes,” Domitia answers plainly.

“Fuck...” Sonny leans back, “Keep it to yourself. Reverends will eat'cha alive if they find out.”

“I’m aware, hence why I didn’t say anything,” Domitia answers.

“Good. Good...” Sonny trails off, puffing a few times. “I need some time to think things over. Speak to some fellas.” He presses a button under his desk, “Zac, come in here.”

The doors to the office open, and a slim man with long black hair enters. His one organic brown eye looks out while the cybernetic one shines underneath his hair, a pair of pistols on each of his hips. Like the rest of Sonny’s gang, he’s sharply dressed, although his pink vest, white shirt, and black pants make him stand out from the rest. He smiles, clasping his hands together.

“What can I do for you, boss?”

“Get these two accommodations. One of the suites. They’re on my tab.”

“You got it.” He answers, “Please follow me.”

Dell follows the man closely, Domitia following further behind. Zac leads them back down the same hallway, and then upstairs. They pass by the bar, still as lively as ever. For a brief moment, Dell thinks he caught a glimpse of Worth navigating through the crowd, but before he can be sure Zac leads them down another hallway to another oak door. Unlocking it with a polished silver key he opens the door to reveal a cozy room. Most of the furniture reminds Dell of corpo hotels, although the flowers and other green plants dotting the room make him nostalgic for his home on Aro-Four-Two.

“The door is reinforced; you shouldn’t hear anything from the bar below.” Zac says softly, “The fridge is stocked with libations and food, although I can arrange for the kitchen to cook something fresh.”

Domitia grunts, “Something with a lot of protein.”

“We have freshly caught stark-fish,” Zac offers. “It’s quite scrumptious, especially served cold.”

“Perfect,” Domitia says as she crashes onto the couch. The piece of furniture groans a bit, causing Zac to wince slightly.

“I’ll probably be down later.” Dell says, “Need a good shower to get all this sweat off me.”

“Come down whenever you like, bar closes at oh four hundred local.” Zac smiles, “Take care now.”

The door closes and Dell feels himself relax, “Fuck me. It’s been one hell of a day.” He cracks his back.

“We’ll need to work fast.” Domitia says, leaning forward on the couch, “We got seventy-one hours left on this gig.”

“Right, right, no sense chasing shadows though, let’s wait for Sonny to get back with us,” Dell says as he takes one last puff of the cigar before turning back to Domitia, noticing her raised eyebrow. “What?”

“You’re too trusting of him.”

Dell sighs, “Come on Dom, I know the guy--”

“You knew him.” Domitia corrects her partner.

“Point being, I know what he is.” Dell begins, “He’s a businessman, just like me. We both got screwed by the same people. He helps us, we help him, it’s a win-win.”

“That didn’t mean you had to tell him what we’re doing.” Domitia says, “After all, we don’t know if we can trust him fully. We don’t know how he fits in.”

Dell feels a pang of frustration hit him. He understands Domitia’s hesitation, he really does, but at the same time, he knows Sonny. Sonny was a good one in the past, and even now he’s still been helpful. In truth, Sonny doesn’t have to help them at all, but he does, which tells Dell that their interests align. That alone means that working together is doable, smart even.

Plus it’s nice to see an old friend, and even for a little bit, relive the life of a good fella.

“I get it, I really do Dom,” Dell says, “Listen, why not rest up for a bit? I’m gonna get a drink and unwind. This job took a lot out of the two of us, after all.”

Domitia sighs, “Can’t deny that. Just don’t drink too much. We got work to do.”