Krieger and Ronson absolutely hated personnel shuttles. They didn’t feel right, they made weird noises and the ride was stupidly uncomfortable. Personnel shuttles were pure turbulence in a tin can with bucket seats. Their only use was to transport planetside passengers up to and from orbiting ships and stations, without the need of a ship actually going down to the planet. They were cheaper to run than passenger ships, plus they were completely automated. The downside was, they carried no armaments so they were completely defenceless should anyone start shooting at them.
It didn’t take long for the shuttle to reach the dock on Dharma, but every single second was too long for both Krieger and Ronson who complained the whole way. The ride was awful and the landing didn’t fare much better either. As soon as the shuttle landed, the pair switched over to airgap mode and tested their new two-way personal comms devices again just to be sure it was working. Thankfully it was and the two could still talk with each other via their neural mod. There was a little delay, but it was better than having nothing.
When the shuttle had completely finished it’s docking procedure, Krieger and Ronson grabbed their bags and cases and carefully made their way out of the now open shuttle doors. Ronson shielded his eyes from the bright daytime sun while Krieger did nothing; her fancy new Zeiss eyes had a handy shade function that dimmed daylight down to avoid glare. She loved these new eyes, in fact she had suggested Ronson get an upgrade and have the EMA foot the bill for it. He said that they wouldn’t unless his current Nikon’s were starting to fail. And according to his last medical, they were still pretty okay. He could have had them upgraded when the Galaxy Police offered to upgrade whatever augments they wanted, which Krieger took full advantage of; but he had got quite used to his Nikon eyes.
‘Captain Cassandra Krieger and Vice Captain Chris Ronson. Welcome to Dharma, it’s a pleasure to finally have you here.’
Krieger and Ronson looked over to who they knew was the one and only Ethan Muller. Nobody really knew what the man actually looked like and there were rumours about him, but now they had seen him with their own eyes. He was quite tall, around six foot or so, athletic build similar to that of a gymnast, light brown hair that had been sort of sun kissed and quite a healthy looking near tanned complexion. The duo hated to admit it, but the psychopathic eco-terrorist was actually quite good looking; on a level with Frank Da Costa, but not as hot as Lovely Erik. Either way, the psychopath in question who was wearing beige cargo shorts, flip flops and a vest and unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt combo, was surrounded by a few armed guards.
‘Ugh, why do the decent looking ones have to be complete nutters?’ Ronson sounded off in Krieger’s head. She heard it half a second later than usual neuralcomms but replied as soon as she was able, the two way comms device showing it’s obvious lag.
‘Dude was there any doubt in your mind? This is how things always end up it’s kinda like, the fucking law at this point.’
Ronson resisted the urge to shrug at this point so he just groaned directly in to his friends brain. They eventually stepped down from the shuttle with their bags and cases in tow, to which two of Muller’s minions walked over and took them away, presumably to be scanned. Muller however casually sauntered over to Krieger and Ronson, which in turn made his armed guards twitch slightly. He went straight for Ronson with his hand outstretched, Ronson instantly shot his hand out and gave Muller’s a firm shake. He soon turned to Krieger and gave her one of the biggest smiles he could muster.
‘Captain Krieger as I live and breath, I’m a big fan.’ Muller said to her, hand outstretched again. Krieger took his hand but he tugged her closer and then proceeded to give her the very European two kiss cheek thing. She could’ve sworn she heard him sniffing her when he did this. Not that she stank horrible or doused herself in perfume or anything, normally she smelt of WD40 and cigarette smoke. She tried not to gag.
‘Even though I’ve killed a few of your followers?’ Krieger tried playing coy and slightly humorous with her reply, throwing in an arched eyebrow and a grin.
‘Oh especially because of that. You’ve proven that my followers and personal bodyguards are in dire need of extra training. And seeing as you’ve triumphed over some of my prime people, I figured why not hire those who are quite clearly the best in their field as my private guard for my off world trip?’
“What an absolute skeeze.” Krieger thought to herself. He still had a hold of her hand and it was making her uncomfortable. She managed to slide her hand out of his grasp before she got her reply out.
‘Can’t argue wi’ that.’ Krieger stated in her Northern drawl, scrunching her shoulders. ‘Right what’s the craic then?’
‘Straight to the point, I like it.’ Muller said. ‘Please, this way. My men have your belongings.’
Muller’s eyes lingered on Krieger a little too long for her liking and Ronson had noticed this.
‘Girl he has a thing for you.’
‘Why me though? What the fuck did I do to deserve all this attention from down and out fucking arseholes?! I’m a five foot three Northern bird and I ain’t no stunning oil painting. If anything I’m a Jackson fucking Pollock.’
‘Well you don’t make any sense like a Pollock that’s for sure.’
‘Chris, dude…’
‘I don’t mean that as a bad thing! Christ Cas there’s a lot of blokes who like women like you.’
‘Women like me?’
‘Yeah. Dangerous. And different.’
‘I suppose, but why are they nutters though?’
‘You managed to bag Erik didn’t you? He’s relatively normal.’
Krieger and Ronson’s internal chat had been interrupted as they had been led over to a bank of scanners, that lead out in to what looked like a compound surrounding the dock.
‘Please, remove your weapons and head through the scanners.’ Muller instructed them. He made his way through but the scanner didn’t read him, obviously he didn’t have to be scanned.
Krieger begrudgingly removed her guns and her katana, Ronson also took his gun out of his belt holster and removed his own katana. They handed their weapons over to the guard manning the scanner and watched as Muller went to stand beside him; watching the monitors like a hawk.
Ronson made his way through the scanner first, it beeped a few times as his entire body was bathed in a pale blue light; indicating that the scanner was working. A second later and his profile and xray had popped up on the monitor. Showing all his installed augments and it thankfully, didn’t seem to flag up the covertly installed ones which were hopefully still not a known thing amongst the public. The guard signalled he was a pass and could collect his weapons. Then Krieger went through, the scanner did the exact same thing with her but took just a touch longer.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
‘You’ve had some new optics Captain, how are you finding them?’ Muller asked her, her new eyes had appeared on the scan results.
‘I got new Zeiss ones, fresh on the market. My Leica’s were on their way out.’
‘Ah I use Olympus Opticals personally, never had an issue with them.’
‘Well, he has some level of cyberization. How much though?’ Ronson said to Krieger through their comms link.
‘We need to find out sooner rather than later, it’ll make it harder to off him if he’s heavily cyberized.’
‘You might have to get even closer to him still.’
‘I fucking hate you so much right now Chris.’
Thankfully, Krieger and Ronson managed to pass through the scanner with their covert augments undetected. Muller and his cronies ushered them through the dock security checkpoint and out in to Dharma proper. It was even brighter out on what would be considered the main street and it was busy. There were dozens of people going about their business, buying groceries, window shopping. Krieger and Ronson didn’t know what to expect on this planet, but they weren’t expecting a thriving community like this.
The strange thing was, everybody looked happy almost, the almost meaning it looked a little forced. They all excitedly greeted Muller as he walked past and he greeted them in return, friendly and lively. There were children running and playing in the street, people stood chatting or sitting outside little cafes enjoying their lunch. Everything seemed normal, in fact too normal. Krieger thought it was like an old school hippy commune, though she was unsure if any of the people were tripping balls or not. Then she changed her mind, figuring this place was giving off more of a Jonestown or Waco vibe.
The group continued to walk through the streets, Krieger and Ronson took in everything they could; the layout of the streets, places of interest and any landmarks. But they paid more attention to the people as most were armed in some capacity. Dharma’s weapon of choice appeared to be whatever the people could get their hands on, as the planet wasn’t officially part of any galaxy alliance. But Ronson had noticed that a lot of the people were carrying various knives. Ronson hated knives and so did Krieger, both of them would take a gunshot over being stabbed any day. Knife wounds hurt like a bitch. Their thing was katanas, which were perfectly acceptable back on New Edo. In fact they’d rather a sword fight than being shanked by a short blade, at least you’d have a sword yourself to fight back with.
Eventually, they ended up standing outside a strange looking compound. Dharma had an odd beige sort of hue to it. It was a mostly sandy, dry planet similar to New Edo but with it’s terraforming system, the weather was always clement; warm enough during the day to not need a jacket and to grow decent crops, cool enough at night to actually sleep well and rain when it was needed. New Edo had two seasons; warmer than it should be and cold, but not cold enough for a refreshing change with too much rain. It reminded Krieger and Ronson of the UK so they were used to it, but it didn’t mean they had to like it. The compound was built up with a kind of sandstone like material, with big heavy wooden gates leading in to it that opened automatically. Two armed guards were posted at the gates, they saluted Muller as he approached and he casually saluted them back. The minions carrying Krieger and Ronson’s bags shot in and took them in to the main building through a tasteful, but simple riyad style courtyard full of trees and raised stone planters full of fragrant blooms and plants.
‘Welcome to Maison de la Mer.’ Muller said as he presented his home to Krieger and Ronson. The exterior and interior of the villa that the high walls of the compound surrounded was architecturally Moroccan in style; with high arches, smooth walls and tall pillars. Ronson was in awe of the place, especially the intricate tiles and mosaic patterns that adorned the floors throughout. He knew when he next remodelled his kitchen, he was totally having it in this fashion.
‘I love this place.’ Ronson blurted out as he took in every single detail, even down to the furniture and soft furnishings intricately arrange in every room they were walked through.
‘Thank you. I spent a lot of time in Morocco back on Earth, I loved it so much that I had this house modelled after some of the beautiful homes I stayed at in Marrakesh. I’ll show you the rest of the house and your quarters.’
‘It is a lovely house.’ Krieger added. She did think it was, but she loved her apartment back on New Edo, mainly because it had her stuff in it. Sure it was one of the more upper market apartments in a properly nice building which cost a fortune on New Edo, but it was hers. Her bed was custom made for her, her furniture was exactly what she wanted with sleek lines and sharp edges, her bathroom was opulent with a fancy shower and a bathtub for the sole purpose of having long soaks in, the settee in the living room had Krieger’s arse print permanently moulded in to it, from hours of slobbing about watching telly and over the past several weeks; had now acquired a series of body fluid stains from her and Erik’s rampant love making. Sure she could appreciate other homes, but her apartment was her comfort place as well as being Ronson’s second home, even though his apartment was at the other end of corridor.
But there was one thing both Krieger and Ronson didn’t have. And that was a private beach.
‘Seriously Cas, who the fuck is this guy?’
‘Dude I don’t know, I’m getting serious cult leader vibes now after seeing all this.’
‘You clocked all his security yet?’
‘Yeah, at least one guard on every door in to the house, pairs of guards patrolling the perimeter. There’s cameras all over the place so I’m assuming they’re all over the rest of the house. We’ll sweep our quarters when we can.’
‘Gotcha. I didn’t think we’d be staying in his house though?’
‘Me either, something’s bugging me about that.’
‘Same. Come on we’re moving again.’
After Muller had shown most of the ground floor of the house to Krieger and Ronson, he directed them toward and up a rather grand marble stair case that led to the upper floor, lined with expensive and authentic looking Moroccan berber rugs. He led the pair along the dimly lit hallway to the far end of the house and through a large wooden door in to the guest suite. Yet another extravagantly decorated space greeted them, practically a separate apartment in itself with a living room area and two bedrooms leading off from it with their own en-suite bathrooms.
‘This will be your quarters during your tenure with me.’
‘This is nicer than most hotels.’ Ronson declared. ‘And that view is something else.’ He said as he pointed out of the huge French windows that led out on to a large terrace overlooking the private beach.
‘Oh God if only New Edo was like this.’ Krieger said as she made her way out on to the terrace. The sun was shining, the water looked magical and inviting and the air was clean. It was absolutely nothing like the dusty, clammy and somewhat polluted New Edo. Sure the beach was okay and the ocean was moderately clean, but it was no where near as immaculate as this. Then again, Dharma was a planet completely occupied by eco-terrorists.
‘I shall leave you to settle in. You can access everywhere in the house and are free to roam outside the compound should you wish. I shall add that dinner is served promptly at half past seven in the evening.’ Muller told Krieger and Ronson. ‘Tomorrow we shall gather with the rest of my security team and go over my off-world itinerary.’
‘Cheers man.’ Krieger said. Keeping up the facade of her being like she always was and not secretly planning on killing their host, she slapped Muller on the shoulder a few times to show some kind of appreciation. It gave her the chance to get a little closer to him, to get a better look at his skin and maybe see if she could feel anything like cybernetic limbs under it or even subdermal armour. But upon the quick glances she got, it seemed like he was primarily organic; save for his eyes and the neural ports located behind his ears. Muller was most likely minimally cyberized. Krieger internally sighed in relief, organic bodies were obviously a lot more easier to kill than cybernetic ones. The amount of times both she and Ronson had been, shot, stabbed, run over and had seven colours of shit kicked out of them was proof of that. Their flesh and bone was something else now, but all of that still fucking hurt to some degree.
Muller didn’t exactly know what to do with Krieger’s “friendly” back slaps. So he bid them farewell for the time being and made his exit from the guest suite, leaving the pair alone. They set about their bags and cases that had been brought to their quarters and took them through to the bedrooms, having a conversation with each other through their comms link.
‘Okay dude, we need to gather what we can on this guy so we can formulate some kind of fucking plan.’
‘Definitely. I’m digging his house but I am not digging his vibe at all.’
‘Me either. So he’s the leader of the OWLF and he lives in opulence and comfort while everyone else seems to be doing all the work and live just like commoners. Yeah, a bit cultish.’
Krieger and Ronson carried on talking through their link as they emptied their bags and cases, putting things away neatly in wardrobes and drawers, lining their toiletries up in the bathrooms and arranging things how they liked them. They did occasionally talk properly with each other, knowing damn well the suite was bugged. Ronson had already found a few cameras dotted about the place and Krieger had seen a few as well. These cameras would most likely have microphones in them too, so Krieger and Ronson made doubly sure to talk normally to each other, at least to make it seem like they weren’t having secret brain conversations.
‘Did you bring swimwear at all?’ Ronson asked Krieger. ‘I did on the off chance there was a beach or a pool or summat.’
‘Of course I did. We beaching?’
‘Damn right, especially if we’re not needed while tomorrow.’
‘Great. Get my back with the sun cream?’
‘Only if you do mine.’
They both changed in their individual bathrooms. Thankfully they hadn’t noticed any cameras or other monitoring devices in them, so at least they could have some privacy. As always, the pair wore black swimwear; Ronson in his black board shorts and Krieger in a black bikini. A liberal application of sun screen later and Krieger putting her double shoulder holster and katana belt back on, the duo made their way out to the terrace and launched themselves off it, that would be their shortcut in getting downstairs from now on because “fuck stairs” as Ronson so eloquently said. Fuck stairs indeed as Ronson himself nearly landed on one of the patrolling guards. The guard righted himself and haphazardly pointed his submachine gun at Ronson, who quickly snatched the gun and turned it on the unsuspecting guard. A strange howling laughter came from somewhere near the beach, Muller had seen everything.