Janus Mining Colony, Northwest Fringe
There is something oddly fascinating to Domitia, seeing a place that should be teeming with life completely empty.
The hangar she had landed in was one of the loading docks - dozens of freighters lined up, cargo bays open with refined minerals being readied to be loaded onto it. Time seems to have frozen here as she marches through the darkened hangar bay, a thin layer of frost developing over everything as the temperature control failed and whatever moisture in the air froze. There are no signs of a fight but definite signs of a panic; equipment was left where it had been dropped, half-eaten lunches were scattered as workers fled to safety, and some cargo walkers were left on, their headlights being the only lights left on in the hangar bay. Finding the hangar bay controls, Domitia decides it's best to close the blast doors of the hangar, preventing any pirate elements from coming up from behind her while she ventures in. As the hangar bay doors close, she hails the Providence.
"Dell, I'm in." Domitia transmits.
"Well, that's some good news," Dell replies, his voice ladened with static.
"What's wrong?" Domitia asks, picking up on Dell's sarcasm.
Dell hesitates before saying, "Well, we have a hitchhiker somewhere on the ship. My guess is it's some sort of Saboteur drone."
"Need me back?" Domitia asks.
"Negative. Too dangerous to fly around with that thing poking about the internals. Would fuck us good if we got into a fight." Dell admits, "Listen. Get our boy. I can handle this. Not my first scrap."
Domitia feels conflict well up in her. Dell's her friend, her brother. She would die for him, knowing he would do the same. On top of that, if the Providence dies, there's little chance of Domitia getting off this station with the bounty. However, as she considers Doubling back, the Bellator's desire to end Flynt wells up in her and rebels against those notions. After all, men like Flynt were the reasons Bellators were made. To be the Shield against Tyranny.
"Understood." Domitia acknowledges, "If you need me, call me."
"Got it, mom," Dell says, half joking. "And don't worry about me. I'm not on the station teeming with pirates."
"Right," Domitia says, the transmission ending.
Still at the same terminal that allowed her to close the hangar bay, Domitia opens up the station's internal map to get an idea of where to start. Currently, she's in Shipping Bay 3-A, on the far side of the station. If she wants to get anywhere, she'll need to access the internal mag-rail station, which can take her deeper into the station far quicker than she could on foot. Whether or not the rail is still operational crosses Domitia's mind, but the alternative route takes her through the actual mines, which would mean fighting in the open void. Not a terrible prospect for her, but voidborne combat always had the added danger of any hit being a killing blow. The Bellator needs to get to the station Security Wing as quickly as possible, reasoning that it’ll have a genetic database she can use to find Flynt. It’s a long shot, but the route will put her in the center of the mining colony, allowing her to branch out from there.
With this plan in mind, Domitia exits from the hangar bay and into Janus Station proper. Power to this section of the colony is minimal, the Bellator having to pry many doors open to get by. The doors impede her efforts, scraping against their metal frames much to her chagrin; she doesn’t want to draw attention to her position. She’s certain the pirates know someone or something got past their defenses. However, that doesn’t mean they know exactly where she’s going or whether she’s an actual threat. Domitia hopes that by avoiding further confrontations, she can retain a level of surprise, allowing her to choose when to fight rather than the pirates forcing a battle.
Passing through the station, she finds more of the same, with much of the station showing signs of a hasty evacuation. Suitcases and duffle bags filled with personal belongings lay scattered here and there, with food wrappers and water containers intermixed with the left-behind keepsakes. It leads Domitia to believe there may have been an attempt to leave the station via this hangar bay. However, the ships were probably not best suited for the task. She examines the bags more closely, eventually opening them to look at their contents. Toys and children's clothes can be found in some of them; some bags even have kid-friendly designs, all abandoned in the hallway leading to the hangar bay. It’s an easy assumption for Domitia to make that some workers brought their families to Janus, a common occurrence. Facilities like this required a workforce to live on them for years, the promise being that after the mine dried up, the facility would be handed over to workers as payment; however, such contracts were rarely honored by Girian Minerals.
She passes through a partially opened door and enters an immense warehouse, towering racks flanking her as she passes through. She knows the quickest route to the mag-rail is through the warehouse; on the opposite side is an entrance meant for 'Special Operators.' Domitia quickly determines what these special operators had operated as she passes by a collapsed rack, the processed mineral picked clean from the destroyed containers. Lying in the center of twisted steel is a Tara Industrial Walker. It's a squat yellow-painted mech with an open-faced cockpit and great servo arms meant for picking up heavy loads or, in this case, plasma cutters meant for mining. Its back has an ion booster to hover and move slowly through the air, as well as maneuver in zero-g. The hull shows scorch marks where it had been hit with ion rounds; its pilot was missing, but a concerning amount of blood remained in the cockpit.
"Seems like the workers put up a fight..." Domitia thinks to herself.
Her attention is taken from the mech as something moves above her. Spindally shapes dart above her, the shine of faint, purple eyes glinting down on the Bellator in between the metal racks. They seem to focus on her for a moment before disappearing into the dark warehouse; Domitia curses that she's been spotted but isn't certain if whatever saw her would do anything about it. She's confident that the spindly shapes are Vulture Drones, similar to the ones she saw on her way into Janus. More than likely, they've been dispatched into the facility to pick it clean for their pirate masters.
The Bellator determines that so long as she keeps moving and doesn't invoke their ire, the drones might just leave her be. Keeping that in mind, Domitia presses deeper into the warehouse, passing through one more set of racks before coming to the entrance. Above the door, she can see the sign read 'Warning: Authorized Personnel Only! Mech Traffic Only!.' The entrance is a large, open doorway showing signs of a battle. Along the entrance, several more of the worker mechs can be found, but scrounging on them are more of the Vulture Drones, their spindly arms picking away at both the mechs and their pilots. Flesh and metal being sawed away with plasma blades.
Yet it's not the Vulture Drones that stop Domitia; it's the Sidero Battle Drone that does. She knows the models well enough; aggressive and hard to kill, their simple lab-grown brains don't allow for much thought but allow them to formulate simple battlefield strategies. The livery of this model is hard for the Bellator to see in the darkness of the warehouse, but she can make out the three falling stars painted in bright yellow paint across its right chest plate. It stomps over the pile of looted mechs, causing the Vulture Drones to fly up into the ceiling like a flock of carrion birds; it raises its one remaining good arm, pointing a charging ion lance at the Bellator.
"Interloper," The lance begins to shine with energy, "Identify yourself."
Domitia curses; this is the last thing she wants. Her chances of going relatively unnoticed were already slim, but now any chance of that was gone. Now came the decision of what to do about the battle drone. It’s already damaged, but Sidero's are famous for their durability. Simply returning fire or closing in to smash its cortex won’t do; she'll have to be clever. Luckily for her, the bot's ion blaster gives her that shot.
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"You have five sec--"
Domitia answers the battle drone's question with a swift shot from her hand cannon. The ballistic round pierces through the focusing cone of the ion lance, and the energy being built up discharges violently. The arm evaporates in a brilliant blue flash, the rest of the torso melts into slag, and the rest of the battle drone is sent tumbling to the right, skipping, skidding, and smashing against a storage rack.
Above, bright red lightsshine down on Domitia; she looks just in time to see the Vulture Drones dive for her, plasma blades whirling to life. The Bellator dives forward, lance opening up on the drones, impaling several with bright beams of ion that cause them to explode, scattering whatever scrap they had across the warehouse. It does not deter the others, who still swarm down at her; Domitia holsters her hand cannon and produces her maul. The head crackles with a promise of violence as it smashes against the closest Vulture Drone. The sudden impact is amplified by the stored energy, atomizing most of the drone, the shock wave sending two of its iron brothers back into the warehouse, buying Domitia more space.
The Bellator makes it through the entrance, finding the mag rail platform and an abandoned battlefield. Workers' bodies are intermixed with destroyed battle drones and red and yellow armored figures, which Domitia deduces were the pirates that breached the facility. Worse yet, some of the battle drones stir like restless iron revenants. Turning her attention towards the rising battle drones, Domitia launches herself towards the nearest one, using her power armor's boosters to close the distance. Her maul finds the first one, smashing its head in, crushing the vat-grown brain, and killing the machine. Her attention snaps to a glint in her peripheral, and she fires a barrage of ion blasts through another. Yet it seems only to anger the Sidero, which charges after Domitia, whirling vibro blades lashing out at the Bellator. She sidesteps, brings her maul around, and smashes the drone in the back, breaking it. Yet despite its ability to stand robbed from it, the machine still rages, its blades slashing against the myriad of corpses nearby it.
More of the vulture drones poor in, the red glow of their eyes illuminating the platform. Domitia fires her lance at the coming swarm, beams impaling several at a time, their bloody cargo being left on the ground as they die in bright flames. Yet as she battles on, she notices a problem. Her ion lance's heat levels are rising; she needs to vent the heat or risk having a similar fate to the first Sidero drone she killed. From behind, she begins to hear something, a low humming accompanied by the rattling of metal on metal. She catches the faintest glimpse of headlights coming down the tunnel leading to the platform. Domitia knows it has to be the mag rail, and if she can hold out for just a few more moments, she can escape the swarm of Vultures. Firing one last barrage from her lance, she begins venting the arm cannon, yet she does not stop fighting, far from it. Her maul bashes drones away like swarming insects, killing some and sending others crashing away, taking their fellows with them, only for them to rise and rejoin the fight. She begins to feel their blades sting on her armor, fortunately only striking the plates, but one lucky strike lands across her helm, damaging one of the sensor arrays, taking away her thermal vision.
Finally, she hears the distinct sound of a mag train passing by. She jumps, managing to land on one of the passing carts. She is then whisked away from the platform at breakneck speed. Domitia stands and takes in her surroundings, realizing the platform is meant to house the Tara Worker Mechs, complete with cradles to secure them as they travel. She advances down the train, moving from platform to platform, trying to find cover. Eventually, she finds a car, probably meant for the workers to jump into while the rail goes about its route. She steps in, finding it’s already played host to yet another desperate battle. Security personnel, workers, and pirates lie in ruin, a single Sidero Battle Drone lies slumped at the end of the cart, and a worker with a plasma torch lies underneath, clearly taking the bot with him to the grave.
She passes through the car, hoping to make her way to the controls, thinking she can direct the train to her intended destination. Passing through several more cars, she carries on, repeatedly seeing the same scenes of carnage. Judging from the amount of security personnel on board, Domitia guesses this was a major fight, the station not wanting one of these trains to be taken by the pirates. She makes it into the driver's car and sighs, seeing that the controls have been clearly sabotaged; the screens glow a bright blue, the keyboards sparking from someone pouring something corrosive over them. The Bellator curses, realizing she might be out of luck. From above, something crackles to life; she aims her hand cannon up at the car's intercom.
"Hey," A raspy, worn voice calls over the intercom, "Who the fuck are you?"
"Nobody." Domitia answers.
"Nobody?" There's a laugh that ends with a dry cough, "Well, what's nobody doing on this station, blasting through pirate drones."
"Got a gig, that's all." Domitia answers neutrally.
"Hmm, sounds to me like you're either a merc or a bounty hunter. Either way, it doesn't sound like you're a part of the Fallen Stars." The voice deduces, "Maybe we can help each other out."
"Dad always said not to trust strange men over the intercom," Domitia sarcastically remarks.
That gets another choking laugh from the man on the comm, "Well shit, if this gig doesn't work out, maybe try stand up."
Domitia looks over her shoulder, then down the rail line, "That's all you wanted to do, chit-chat, or are you stalling for your friends?"
"Fuck no," The voice gets serious, "Listen, I don't know who you are, but from what I saw on the cams, you can handle yourself. I need help getting the remaining civies off this rock. We don't have a lot of time left."
Domitia considers this before asking, "What's the rush? Isn't corporate sending the cav?"
"That ain't the case." He chuckles, "That's what they told you going in?"
"Get to the point." Domitia demands.
"They're gonna let the Fallen Stars have their way with it. The way they see it, it's already been taken by the pirates, and they don't wanna spend the money and manpower taking it back. Those bastards aren't gonna stop until the station is stripped clean. That includes us poor folks stuck on here." He answers grimly, "I don't know you, and you don't know me, and quite frankly, I'm willing to keep it that way. Just help me get these civies off the station before they turn this rock into pebbles."
As much as the urge to find Flynt drives Domitia on, she cannot let innocents die. They did nothing but decide to work in a mining colony; they don’t deserve such a fate.
Yet there is no such thing as a free meal, either..
"Fine. But I'll need something in return."
"Name it, it's yours,"
"I'm a bounty hunter; I'm looking for a target on this station. I'll get the civilians off, but after that, you'll help me get my man. We have a deal?" Domitia lays out her offer.
There's a pause before the man says, "Fine. Deal. What's your target's name?"
"Spoilers," Domitia warns, "Ain't giving that away."
"Why not?"
"Don't know if I can trust you yet." Domitia admits, "Once we meet face to face, I'll give you the name."
The voice growls, annoyance lacing his words, "And how can I trust you? I ain't exactly in a position to trick you."
"Don't know who's listening, and I don't know who you'll tell. Might cause my target to scurry off." Domitia says, "Besides, you said it; you need my help."
"Right, right, Ms. Paranoid," The train shifts as it takes a turn, going down another path, "Directing ya to Gate 4-B. I need it opened so we can get out of the mines."
"Pirates holding it, I take it?" Domitia asks, "How many?"
"From what I can gather, it's a small force at the actual gate control. They don't know you're coming." The voice says, "If you can open it, my boys will cut through them and make a path so we can get the civies off this rock. Do that for me, and I'll point you toward your target."
Domitia checks her lance, verifying that the core is cool and ready for war, "Understood. How will I contact you once the gate is clear?"
From the center console, a small radio pops up, "Take it. It's a voider comm, should allow us to talk."
Domitia takes it, activating the mag lock on it and placing it underneath her right pauldron, "Got it."
"Oh, also," The voice says, "This train has no breaks, so you'll have to jump... Your stop’s comin’ up... Soon."
Domitia bolts out of the driver's car, passing through the previous cars and back onto the mech cradles. She activates the radio underneath her pauldron, her helmet scanning and then syncing with the radio so she can speak through it.
"Right... Get ready to jump..." The tunnel eventually turns from smooth steel to rocky stone, opening into an expansive, open room. The smoldering ruins of mechs and battle drones and the buzzing swarms of more vulture drones fill it, "Now!"