[Erick Sanders]
I was back lying on my bed, replaying the fight in my mind for a fifth time when my Scanner vibrated against my skin,
[System announcement: Due to the recent conflicts, the original induction time has been adjusted. The original planned induction period has come to a close as of fifteen seconds past. As such, the creators believe that the current climate on earth and throughout the greater system do not allow for a safe and prosperous integration into the universe.]
The Universe? Was The Dream bigger than this? Last time I had checked, there were over one hundred planets in this system. How could that not be all there was? I sat up on the bed and continued reading.
[To create further balance within the system, a limited number of delegates have been allowed into the system. Individuals from Associations, Guilds and Companys have been allowed access for intake and employment. They will be arriving in all major trading centres around Earth. Please see the attached list for delegations, and arrival times.]
I flicked to the end of the message where a small link button was highlighted.
Selecting it, I flicked my scanner to create a holo-screen and began browsing the listings. There were hundreds of companies and guilds, from chefs to archaeologists. Many guilds listing multiple areas of expertise. I filtered by combat, [32 found]. I filtered again for rankings greater than ninety. Available for only the top ten percent of people. I scrolled the five options listed.
[Shining Pinnacle: The pinnacle for justice in the galaxy. (Rank 90 restriction) ]
[Ascetic Armoury: Completeness in life and combat. (Rank 90 Restriction)]
[Pharian Suns: Born for loyalty. (Rank 90 restriction)]
[Depths Despair: Despair for our enemies. (Rank 90 restriction)]
[Grey Scar Company: Grey the lines. (Rank 95 restriction)]
All five of the guilds would be setting up interview points outside of Wellington tomorrow, the earliest opening in six hours. I scratched my head and stared at the screen. Joining a guild would go along way to creating a level of protection from Carlton. I scrolled through the list of achievements that The Grey Scarred Company, They had over two million captures and kills for wanted criminals. Assisted in the removal of hundreds of state leaders then helped Annex the moons under the employ of larger empires. They could help me.
Sighing, I listened to the quietly sleeping house then pulled an old piece of paper and pen from the bedside table.
[Morning everyone. Trevor was right. Carlton isn’t going to stop with just two assassins. He will be after me until he is permanently removed from The Dream. That’s not something we can do alone, and until he is, you’re not safe with me here. So to kill two birds with one stone, I’m going to go interview for the guilds. Protection and resources will be good. I’ll message Jackson in the morning to ask for protection for Sofie, but I recommend you call Jasper and Brennan. Sorry I didn’t wait for you to be awake. There wasn’t time. I’ll see you soon.]
I dropped the note on the kitchen table as I passed, a sack over one shoulder. I slung the bag over the back on the hoverbike and threw my leg over the seat. Flicking the bike on, it hummed to life. I reached out and let the treetops brush my fingertips as I pulled up and away from the house. Embers eyes shone in the moonlight as he watched me from the roof.
Two hours later I leaned forward, pressing on the handlebars and tilting the bike towards the ground. Slowing to a stop on a grass patch beside the crystal clear waters of the Hutt river. The location set for the Guilds was an hour south-west, but it was still three in the morning and I needed a rest. My legs ached from the vibrating bike.
Cam’s new car could have made the journey in a fraction of the time, but I knew it would have been a journey filled with attempts to dissuade me, something I wasn’t prepared to go through. I killed the engine and kicked myself for not bringing a bedroll or sleeping bag. Pulling my bag from the bike I lay against it beside the warm engine. Watching the water bubble as it rolled over the river stones. This whole stretch of forest was suburbia in the real world, likely someone's back lawn. It had been reformed, or more accurate, it had been reverted to a state before humans had burnt through the forests for farmland.
The guilt of leaving my friends roiled in my stomach. Surely they would understand that it was a necessity, that without strong allies we would never be rid of Carlton's assassins. Rose would be pissed I thought, though I reminded myself that she didn’t really have a leg to stand on, I had literally fallen from the sky to protect her, and she still spent every night with Trevor. I had been an idiot for thinking for even a second that I could have changed her mind. I scowled in the darkness. This was the best thing to do, with a guild, a strong guild, I could be the hunter. I pictured myself standing among the rubble of Carlton's estate, the slave lords moon burning around me. I smiled lightly to myself as an owl swooped overhead and I drifted off to a light sleep.
I was awoken by a soft grunting and a nudge on the head. A small piglet sniffed at my bag, looking for food. It squealed as I pushed it away. “Where is your mother?” I said, scanning the surrounding bush with my sense, and feeling nothing. I took pity on the small animal, pulling a nutrition brick from my bag, I broke a section off and crumbling it into the grass, the pig began grunting as it munched at the ground. Taking a bite myself I checked the time. [05:13am]
I took another bite before stuffing it back into the bag and mounting my bike.
The sun rose as I followed the river south before banking west, riding the hills of the Rimutaka forest. I remembered hiking here with my family as a child, the trees I now sped over bring on feelings of nostalgia. The Guilds meeting site would have been impossible to miss. Thin towers capped in anti-air launchers ringed a flat clearing at the edge of a deep valley. Floodlights illuminated long canvas tents as well as most of the forest.
I wasn’t the first to arrive, as I pulled my bike into a spot at the edge of a field, small squads of soldiers and loan Dreamers jumped out of still hovering transporters and headed into the grouped tents. The Transporters, having completed their drop off, speed off into the brightening sky. Shouldering my bag, I checked my swords and pistol before trekking across the field, The sight and sound from the camp reminding me of a music festival, only this one was full of people armed to the teeth and willing to kill anyone that looked at them in the wrong way.
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The tents were set up in rows, The tents for the rank ninety-plus guilds were at the back of the clearing. The crowds began to thin as I moved further, passing lines of men and women waiting to sign up for various companies.
By the time I stood outside a tent holding a [Pharian Suns] banner, there were only twenty people around me. The lines and crowds far back with the guilds that didn't have such rigorous entry requirements. Outside the tent stood a thickly muscled man. I had to fight my desire to stare, not because of the thick muscles, or the light gold skin, but at the four arms and matted hair that ran along his exposed back. His face was humanoid, except for a small nose that split at the tip.
Was this my first alien encounter? Even the NPCs on Scaratous were human. This man, at least I thought it was a man, was clearly not human. I Ignored him as he tried to get my attention with a two-armed wave. Similarly, I ignored all the other tents, heading to the back where a grey tent stood against the rising sun. A large dark [GSC] was painted against the canvas. The man at the door looked as human as anyone, except for the red-tinted scales covering his body. The scales rippled as his head turned to look at me.
“Welcome.” He said as I approached, his voice was raspy and deep. “Wanting to sign up for the Grey Scar Company?” He asked. I nodded, my eyes watching his shimmering scales from inside my helmet.
Excellent. Show me your scars,” he said.
“Excuse me?” I responded.
“We’re not called the perfect skin company. You want in, you have to show me your scars,” He ordered, widening his stance to block the entrance. I nodded again, then dropped my helmet.
“Oh... how many times have you been decapitated?” The man asked, trying to see around my neck at the scars that ran the entire way round. “And that one on your cheek? Death from an axe?” He cocked a half-smile. “I’ve got on of those too” He lifted his shirt showing a thick line of light scales. Were those scars from death? Or are they normal scars? I thought that NPCs didn’t rebirth, maybe this guild was rich enough to pay for their members to be reborn. Or maybe he wasn’t an NPC. I shook my head at the thought.
“Show me more,” he said, his face serious.
I hesitated, then unzipped my jacked, pulling my shirt up to expose my stomach and chest. The man whistled. “How many?” He asked.
“I’m not sure, I’ve never counted.” I watched as he smiled again.
“Okay. You’re scarred. Go on in.” He said. As I moved to step past him his hand stretched out and pushed me back.
“You said I could go in,” I said. shuffling in the dirt.
“You can. Just go past me” He smiled again.
When I stepped forward, I was pushed back again. I sighed. I lifted the bag from my shoulder and tossed through doorway at his feet. He didn’t move to stop it.
“That wasn’t smart, you better be able to go in there after it”
I nodded and stepped forward again, Twisting the dial in my mind.
I watched his hand push through the air toward me, I slapped it aside and twisted as his shoulder dipped it intersect my path. I grasped his scaled wrist and pull the arm down, the shoulder followed and I slipped past him through the doorway. Twisting the dial back.
“You’re quick.” He chuckled. Straightening and turning to face me.
“Or, you re not as quick as you thought,” I said, pulling my bag from the ground.
He nodded slowly, “Maybe. Go on” He said before turning to stand vigil at the door once more
I was standing in a canvas walled room. A scaled lady in a set of grey silk robes sat at a steel desk. She scratched her short blond hair and looked up at me, “Arm” She said.
“What?” I asked, looking down at her.
“Give me your arm, the one with the scanner.” She ordered, “And take a seat.”
I pulled the chair out from the desk and slid into it before stretching out my arm.
She ran a thin metal rod over my scanner before tapping on her console.
“Name?” She asked.
“Erick” When she over the consols screen at me with cold eyes I finished “Sanders.”
“Well Erick Sanders, Rank 97. How did you grow in ranking?” She asked, pausing her tapping and waiting for my response.
“A lot of fighting, a lot of killing,” I said.
“Amusing. Look, every person that comes through here has done a lot of fighting and killed more than they can count. I need specifics, why should we take you, and not them?” she asked.
I sighed, I had always hated interviews. Figuring that I couldn’t hold anything back I answered her truthfully.
“I was a slave fighter on Scaratous” I said.
She tapped on her console again, “Scaratous, a desert planet, run by the… Slave lords council. Original name, How long were you enslaved?” she asked.
I tried to calculate it in my head, with the time dilation and the endless days. “I’m not sure, eight months, maybe less”
“And why did you take the fifth?” She asked. I was a little taken aback. Again these people were asking about things that NPCs shouldn’t know about.
“I thought I deserved it,” I said after some contemplation.
“I’ve never heard that before, people normally talk about how they were born and bred warriors or some shit” She smirked to herself.
“Skills and training?” She asked, still typing.
“Just the swords, I can use a gun but no better than most people,” I said.
“Seriously? Just the sword? No tracking ability, or tactical knowledge?” She raised an eyebrow. Before noting it and continuing to question me.
“Have you ever done anything to affect the world around you?” She asked. She must have been reading the questions from the console.
“I escaped my slave masters house.”
“Obviously, or you wouldn’t be here.” She said, unimpressed.
“Then I killed him, in his own home,” I said.
The typing paused again and she looking over at me with one raised eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes. I killed his guards, sliced him up, then cut his throat and watched him bleed out.”
She watched me for a moment, “That must have been satisfying” she smiled knowingly.
“Very,” I said, returning her smile.