I get so many hails and messages and visits to my moon base in the Dash system that I want to go crawl in a hole from the attention. I know that the list Castillo had displayed was only sent to the others on that list so we could start making connections with each other in an effort to keep this list perpetuating. That wasn’t the express purpose, but I’ve had experience with shitty dealings and back room handshaking to know what’s going on. The part I didn’t anticipate was the sheer number of assholes that would pick me because they released all of the associated data I gave the five access to, the data that they could see that I had the highest personal worth in the Frontier, thanks to my fucking Partner.
Yes, I’m still pissed at the love of my life. The complete shit still hasn’t messaged me back and I have to deal with this complete garbage. Some of the garbage has gold in it though. The contract the Five proposed to assist in investigation and retrieval is lucrative. I had to offer up ten percent on recovery missions and fifteen on investigation missions to any team I field. I may think my Corporal is a goon, but he knows how to drive a bargain. We haven’t been called yet, but it’s only a matter of time. I have my hopes that Volkov learned a lesson, but my bet is she found a way to be less obvious about her piracy.
Just as I’m about to try and summon Penny by swearing up a storm to the Empress, again, I get a note that there is a delivery at the moon base space dock for me. Is it another bribe? None of them have been too ridiculous, and I should outright refuse each and everyone of them. But Pradesh and Castillo both offered me houses. Like, on planet, in their Capitol City houses. I haven’t looked at the properties yet, but I am legit considering building a mercenary fleet and basing them out of those two buildings.
I get down to the dock and see two vehicles? They look like hyperloop pods with anti-grav skids with one end a massive engine instead of a vortex shedder. The attached note has a secure video link attached. The note says: ‘You’re a fucking legend. Best consolation prize ever!!!’
I’m tempted to view the video, but knowing my lascivious friend, I should leave it be. If these vehicles are thanks for being an expert wing woman, I imagine she went out of the way to message Kitty or Kip instead of me. Well, guess I have my date vehicles. I grin, but also swear that she has to be present for that date, gods damn it.
->M]Hey Kit, can we load up our squad and these rocket carts and head to Twilight? I want to survey a property and have security experts advise me. [<-
->K] Can do. Can I come out and look too? [<-
->M] Sure, as long as we’re not on alert, you’re welcome to come along. [<-
She squees in my mind at the opportunity. She loves coming out and walking around with me. She’s so damned cute I want to pinch her little synthetic cheeks. It helps that she’s assured me that she can remote pilot the ship while she inhabits her Avatar.
/Corporal, have to assessments to do. You want liberty on Dash or Twilight?/
\Hah, funny Senior. The answer is Dash every time.\
/Alright. Need to run a security assessment on two properties, one on Twilight, one on Dash. Three hours max on each assessment gives you 12 to 16 hours on planet until my next scheduled bullshit./
\16 hour liberty? Our death is on your head ma’am.\
/Hah! Fuck you Corporal. I will resurrect you to do the paperwork./
\I’ll be sure to die the hardest, ma’am. Corporal out.\
Cheeky bastard. I still think he’s an ass, but I understand his brand of assholery better than I used to.
Twilight is a few dozen lightyears from Dash, and I’d be worried about a normal shuttle, but Kitty is a freaking beast, and forty is barely a blip on her aether compliment.
“I’m sending a message to Pradesh if you could handle Twilight Orbit Control.”
“Copy, Mik.” My sassy kid’s avatar says.
>Pradesh, I thank you for your generosity. We are surveying the property to see if it is fit for our purposes. If it is, I may have a proposal for you. –Solis<
“The property appears to be an old plantation estate? It’s at the far end of the University’s property, past the new student housing complex. I have questions on why such prime positioning is being offered to us.”
While she pilots us in, I connect to their overnet and skim their news feeds and query near and about the University. Scandal with faculty, check. A series of student deaths? I’m interested. Gruesome and partially eaten? I’m about to fuck right off. Alright, time to switch to the land management records.
The estate is on four hectares of land with an untold swatch labeled ‘expansion contested by wildlife.’ The hells? They have fucking guns, access to impressive damned guns. There is either a powerful aether source in that there wilderness or some aggressive bullshittery.
I ask Kitty to blast the withered husk of a garden for our landing and properly scorches us an LZ.
“Alright, team, I need an inside and out security assessment use sonic and seismic equipment to search for any cellars or bunkers. We’re wheels up in three hours.” I look toward the ramp as Kitty walks down in her shit kicking boots and black capris. “Kit, can you orient for a defense posture against the wooded hills? News claims aggressive wildlife. If they are police resistant, we’re looking at t-2 plus.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Can I use your pulse rifle?”
“Send me your cert, and I’ll be happy to.”
“I’m a fucking ship, Mikaela, I don’t have a cert, but I bet I know more about this rifle”
“Strike one, Kitty, you know I don’t like it when you call me that on mission. Especially since you only do this when you’re mad at me.”
“You won’t let me fire a gun! I fire cannons for you all of the time!” she screams.
“Yeah, I know. It was supposed to be so ridiculous it was funny. The joke didn’t land, and I’m sorry.”
Her mood instantly changes at my admission, “Really? So I can use the Pulse Rifle?”
“Yes really, and no way. You were being an ass. You can borrow my sniper rifle to show that you can be responsible and humble.” I see the sad look on her face until my big fuckoff land cannon of a Merc Arms modified BMG appears on the ground. “It’s 70 grain instead of 54, so don’t let it toss you.”
“I know, I know. I can read the imprint specs.” Kitty, if you actually have to fire that, I am going to laugh at you.
“Okay! Okay.” I put my hands up and laugh myself into the building.
The back opens into a sitting room with access to a small kitchen and . . . help dining room? Is this legit laid out like an old plantation mansion? A few more minutes of walking around I find inside access to onsite ‘help’ quarters, modern laundry, linen closets, all in the ‘help’ area. The main area includes a bunch of fancy rooms and the entryway is basically a ballroom with a sweeping balustrade to the second floor. This place would make a pretty lit compound.
I tour the rooms upstairs and there are near a dozen and a library before I get to a pair of doors that I assume lead to the master suite. Instead, I open the doors to find a fuckoff large rodent eating another fuckoff rodent. As soon as it sees me I summon my cutlass and throw it as it bounds at me. I summon my pistol into my hand and roll back into a distance-keeping side kick, pumping the rodents body full of plasma. As the fucker squeals and squirms off the end of my leg, its gnashing rust colored chompers encroaching on my face meat, I hear my sword thunk into something solid and I phase into the sepia plane as I’m pulled to the sword. Buried into the wall, I grab my sword, phase back into color and blast the face eating fuck rat. The bastard wiggles in an attempt to turn back to me and provides just enough distraction that I can’t dodge his buddy that just squirmed from beneath the bed to jump at me.
I kick out at it, but all it has to do is aim it’s already open mouth to swallow more of my boot before chomping its iron-laiden saws all on my leg.
“FUCK!!!” I exclaim just before I hear a thunderous boom and an echoing “FUCK!” from the yard.
Kitty!! My brain screams at me that my wife’s kid, hells, my kid is in damn danger. I trigger overdrive on my cutlass and slice out the wall and the rat and the bed before I turn the damned thing off. I summon a suppressant grenade and toss it behind me as I hobble to the window and throw myself out of it, twisting to land in a parachute drop position. I fuck it up, of course, with a mauled leg that shatters and the other that gets tweaked and rolled into oblivion.
I look to find Kitty thrown up against the house, arm injured and a sizable trail in the lawn. A monstrous possum-like beast is advancing on us with it’s snout shattered and bleeding, making a terrible sucking gargle as it moves.
“Like hell you’re taking her you ugly fucker.” I start firing my pulse rifle at the bastard from my belly and while it’s setting him on fire, it’s not really stopping it, but I did get it’s attention.
/Corporal, find a small room and stuff any air access./
I hear swearing over comms and I tune it out. I pull out the new toy that Penny gave me for our hunting mission. It hurt my ears with a helmet on. Kip. If you can hear me. Solidify my ear canals and nostrils please.
I charge my ripple rifle as the possum beast charges me. I roll on my back to get a better angle on the beast’s gullet for that perfect moment where my hand is in its mouth and it hasn’t bitten me yet. The rifle shines green and I pull the trigger. The blast wave without armor on punches my head and attempts to stop my heart.
I’m sure it did nasty things to the beast, but all I can see is the thing collapsing on me and those damn teeth sinking into my abdomen.
Kip, open up the channels again and see if this ass has anything I can use to not die.
Your skill only works that way if you imprint.
Well fuck it, my aether isn’t doing me any good right now, I picture the beefiest, ripping-est motherfucker in the codex and I key in on something that roughly translates to Razor Claw Murder Bear. I start shifting immediately while transferring purchased blood and meat for me to subsume. I start tearing my way out of it’s mouth as I start becoming too large to be in it’s mouth.
Kip sends me after I’ve torn myself free of the marsupial and spent a few hundred credits. Kip, will I survive imprinting this or do I need to quit and take meds?
Neither option is great. Reverting is not as simple as just stopping your effort.
Imprint it is. Go for the gold Kip. A massive 10m long carcass forms in front of me.
Get to eating, you’re nearly saturated on blood and meat, so eat everything else.
I hate you some times. I forceably deaden my sense of smell and tear into the bear’s belly and shortly, it’s organs. All of that gets me to 95% so I crack it’s skull with my apparently Starforged claws and eat it’s brain and sensory organs.
I allow my instincts to revert my physiology to it’s design, my knowledge of the beast as complete as possible. I make a change to the fur color and the voice-box and then stamp the as is imprint into being. A surge of aether gathers in my chest and mind and suffuses my being as I witness every aether source around me wither. My vision attempts to flutter, but I growl it out, I feel contempt in my paws and trigger the rage within me to defy the blackness and consume the aether around me, the shield on that metal contraption, every source within kilometers I pull to me to strengthen my form and solidify my dominance. I feel something crystalize within me and I roar in defiant triumph.
Death can fuck itself. My claws tear it so, my roar sound it so, and my Majesty makes it so.
Mikaela, I’m altering your cranium and will re-print your imprint.
I roar in attempt to stop the change to my perfect form before the signals to my body are cut and my head smashes into the ground. I lay there drooling until the pain of reconstruction in my skull sends me to the dark.