In the land of Belheim, a magnificent desert stretches as far as the eye can see, with large mountains in the distance. The desert's vast expanse is adorned with countless grains of sand that glisten like fragile fragments of glass. As the day equinox arrives, the sky above the desert becomes a breathtaking canvas, casting its radiant hues upon the landscape. The scorching sun hovers above, intensifying the spectacle below. Amidst this expansive desert, a highway winds its way, a ribbon of connectivity that bridges the scattered mountains and unites the country. Along this lifeline of asphalt, beneath the meager shade of a lone desert tree, Ulessha, a freight transporter battles against the relentless desert heat, burrowing into the mechanical entrails of her vehicle.
Curses and the jarring clanks of metal fill the air as she wrestles with a stubborn cable. Her frustration mounts until a sudden jerk causes the back of her head to collide with the hood of the Chipper, eliciting a cry of pain she quickly takes off her burgundy trucker hat to rub the sore spot on her long braided her, the blonde hair becoming frenzied as she tries to soothe the pain. vengeful she jolts back and lets out a sharp kick to the front fender, only to be met with a throbbing foot. The pain causes her to reel as she falls seated on warm desert sand. After the pain subsides and the anger calms, she stares with remorse at her Chipper and its large freight, her livelihood, her investment, what keeps the food on the table and her bills paid lay dead on the side of the road. Only to make matters worse, she reaches behind her, retrieving a small cylinder attached to her WeatherSuit jacket. Pulling a cord from its side, she hesitates to brings it in front of her but she reads the digital display, revealing that she has only 67% coolant remaining. She gulps, spit falling down her scratchy dry throat, the reality of her situation settling in, with only hours of coolant left in her WeatherSuit she must find a way to start her vehicle or abandon her cargo where it will surely be looted by raiders and bandits before she can make it back. However, with 300 miles between her and the next Waystation would there even be a point in trying to approximate the time between when her WeatherSuit runs out of coolant and when a rescue shuttle would make it to her? She slaps her forehead in exasperation before using her hat to fan herself. She wrestles with possibilities before falling back and kicking the sand in frustration. over the wrestling of sand and fabric the faint hum of engines reaches her ears, instantly igniting a spark of hope. Scrambling to her feet, she bolts towards the road, arms flailing desperately. To her astonishment, a caravan of three vehicles decelerates, featuring two large, tagged-up humvees blaring music with smoke pouring out of the windows. Leading the two humvees is a topless red hotrod, its cargo bed packed with an assortment of miscellaneous items and tech. This eclectic procession comes to an unexpected rest beside Ulessha's stalled Chipper.
Ulessha races to the door of the lead vehicle paying no mind to the disorganized contents of the drivers cargo bed. She leans against the hotrod looking up at the dark-skinned woman behind the wheel of her raised vehicle and catches her breathes before speaking. "Thank you for pulling over. This Brightfall is unbearable. Do you happen to know anything about coolant systems or have a draggin’ hitch-" Her voice trails off as she examines the vehicle her hands rest on, her gaze examining the savage ornaments and crude symbols adorning it. The other vehicles display a matching aesthetic. She skims the cargo with her eyes and sees a chilling sight: a caged prisoner. wait. She withdraws, her scrutiny refocused on the driver.
"Ah! Yes, it's all coming together now," the driver muses, lowering her shades to reveal a marred eye amidst a web of scars. The caravan of cars follows suit, with doors flying up as the gang disembarking their vehicles. Raiders.
"Can't believe it's really here boss." one of the raiders exclaims as she ties her hair up, retrieving a weapon from the back of her vehicle.
"What? You think the Sage was blowing smoke up my ass?" adds the driver, whos in front of Ulessha smiling at one of her cohorts, she grabs a smoke from them and puffs it deeply before blowing it in Ulessha’s direction. What's happening?
The driver moves towards Ulessha, grabbing her by the shirt and dragging her along towards her Chipper. "Seems like you fell into a little double cross, darling. We're going to be taking this Chipper, along with your cargo." She forcefully throws Ulessha against the front of the vehicle and produces a square scanning device from her pockets, aiming it at her. "And you." The device scans Ulessha as some of them surround her, while others check her vehicle. "What does it say? Is she worth anything?" Her members ask their boss.
Am I worth anything? The harsh reality sinks in as she observes the cargo bed of the hotrod, mixed between scattered engine pieces, coolant systems and refrigeration units improperly tied down, there was a large rusty bird cage loosely bolted to the hotrod containing the captured individual. The prisoner sits leaned against their cage draped in a thin black cloth their only protection from the brightfall. Their gaze fixed upon Ulessha as they tilt their head peering through the dreads draping over their face. Ulessha couldn’t help but notice under all the grimy and sweat, the soft facial features of the prisoner leading her to assume it was a woman.
They're going to try to sell me. she realizes with a sinking feeling.
"Here we go! Uleesha Thompson, age 28, born in the Southlands, widowed, working as a Transporter associated with the Tereliva Work Force. Boring! Ah! Now for the interesting part—no cybernetics, no Luzid capabilities. However, she is a Goliath Type with an extreme mutation." The crew cheer with one another, their leader the driver however looks up from her datapad, locking eyes with Ulessha. "But don't get any ideas wretch. See that gal right there?" She points towards a woman wielding an imposing cannon of a weapon. "That thing will tear you to pieces. Now!" She tosses a pair of handcuffs to Ulessha. "Be cooperative and put those on, we might even let you keep your Weather Suit." She looks at Ulessha, who is frozen in fear, as she looks up to the driver. The driver lifts her sunglasses and speaks condescendingly, "Hey, look here, I'm being reasonable. You could be like that idiot over there. Sweating in this unbearable brightfall."
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Trembling, Uleesha replies, "What?"
Lowering her sunglasses back on her face and turning to walk back to the vehicle, she says, "How are you doing over here, Dwarven?!" She addresses her human cargo. “Trash thought they could escape from the Sage, escape from servitude, escape fate, but trash was wrong. Even though trash is trash, this is rare trash, so I couldn't rough ‘em up too much, but a lesson had to be taught for almost cycling one of my crew. You would think trash knew better than to mess with the Babs. I guess Testers aren’t known for their brains huh?" She bangs on Dwarven’s cage, the heat from the bright fall causing them to sweat excessively as they glances at Ulessha and then back at the driver. The driver locks eyes with Dwarven but speaks to Ulessha. "I'm Yolo, by the way, and I see you haven't put on your cuffs yet. It's easier if you accept the fact that you've been betrayed. This was your future the moment you drove that Chipper out of the UnderMountain with a sabotaged coolant system. Yes, it was all planned for you."
Perplexed, Ulessha's voice carries a mix of confusion and frustration as she tries to negotiate with the driver. "Listen, uh Yolo, The TWF would pay for my safe retrieval of me and my cargo. If you were to let me go I’m sure we could work something-"
Yolo shrugs, an air of nonchalance enveloping her response. "Wrong! Your little workers party could give me all of your reserved krits and it still couldn’t pay for what I’m making on this job. Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re transporting back to Tereliva, come now."
Dwarven's attention sharpens as Tereliva is mentioned. They turn their gaze towards the dark-skinned woman who engages in conversation with Ulessha, their eyes darting between her, the Chipper, and the other vehicles nearby. Ulessha remains stunned by her current predicament, her mind still reeling. “If you're making that much then why even need me?”
The dark-skinned woman disengages herself from the vehicle where Dwarven sits and strides purposefully toward the still uncuffed Ulessha. With a determined expression, she speaks, her voice laden with gravity. "We are living in tumultuous times, Ulessha. The Valkin are embroiled in two wars, battling both the Izleath Nation to the North and numerous gangs and bandits to the South. And believe it or not, both sides are not averse to employing slave soldiers." Her hand forcefully lands on the side of Ulessha's Chipper, emphasizing her point. "Cyborgs, Luzers, and individuals like us with Blood Perks fetch a hefty price. While you may come from the lower three tiers, your extraordinary mutation surpasses any disparities and can still land me some major krits." She chuckles before kneeling in front of Ulessha. "Tell me, when you activate your Perk, how much muscle do you gain? Three times your current mass? Perhaps four times?" She scrutinizes Ulessha from head to toe. "You're already frail. Usually, trash with your Perk tend to yock up to maximize the transformation, but not you, huh? Such a shame. You're just like that loser over there. that trash is a Dwarf-Type, but the mutation is weak.” She then turns to Dwarven with her back to Ulessha and places her hands on her hips, wanting to convey a message. “Dwarf-Types are known for their dense muscular structure, which explains their shorter stature. Their Perk is passive, constantly active. That's what makes them formidable. But this one..." She gestures towards Dwarven, they’re presence defiantly tall. "The passive Perk doesn't mean anything. However, there's one reason I'm furious that The Sage won't let me have that trash." She looks over her shoulder to Ulessha "Trash is a Dual User. Not only they possess a Blood Perk, but their also a Luzer." Dwarven maintains a steady gaze as the woman speaks, their dreadlocks framing a resolute expression. "Luzid-capable individuals are among the most sought-after in the entire continent. They're incredibly rare, like finding one in every thousand. I’ve only been able to recruit two, but these two are disappointments."
"Hey!" Two raiders among her group defend themselves, displeased at their captain's words, but promptly silence themselves under the weight of Yolo’s intimidating glare.
"And trash’s worth plumps even more with a flame root but I can’t find out their affinity ‘cause trash won’t talk!" she says, casting a resentful glance towards Dwarven before returning her attention to Ulessha. Drawing closer, she narrows the gap between them. "You know, Ulessha, you and I share the same Perk." Leaning back slightly, she adds, "While my mutation may not be as extreme as yours, I don’t think you’d be much of a challenge." She locks her gaze with Ulessha, their eyes locking in an intense exchange. “I’m actually hoping you step up to a fight." Ulessha holds the woman's gaze for a moment but eventually averts her eyes, glancing downwards. Then Yolo seizes the opportunity and swiftly cuffs Ulessha. “Whatever, krits are krits and ever one counts here in Belheim. So prepare for a life of discomfort and servitude. Trash.”
Moments later, Ulessha finds herself confined in a cage adjacent to Dwarven, who rests with their eyes closed. She observes with mounting panic as the raiders unload her cargo from the Chipper, her mind racing for a solution. What do I do? What can I do? Activating my Perk seems like a last resort, but even then, my Chipper won't be repaired, and they might send more people. Feeling overwhelmed, she rocks back and forth within the confines of the cage until she eventually curls up, arms wrapped around her legs, burying her face in her knees, overwhelmed by a sense of defeat.
"Hey," Dwarven's voice cuts through the despair, reaching Ulessha's ears it was deeper than she expected. She peeks out, finding Dwarven still leaning against the cage, their eyes fixed upon her.
"Are you really going to Tereliva?" He asks.