Health Spirit Supply Momentum 5 5 5 2

Amity City, the iron-sick heart of the Quints’ iron-sick empire, was never a fun trip, least of all when you've got an Overseer module that's never been all that fond of you chirping down one ear and the nagging guilt of pissing off the only person in this goddamned sector that doesn't want you dead echoing in the other.

Preparing to turn you over to the relevant authorities in 3… 2… 1…

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, releasing my belt buckle with a click, “Computer, mute!”

I am the computer Ash, you know that doesn’t work.

“A guy can dream,” I clambered down the rusted ladder into the cargo bay, “Anything I need to watch out for when I’m out there?”

Aside from the swift and brutal vengeance of the true righteous ones, the divinely ordained, the seekers of justice-

“Aside from those creepy fucks, yeah.”

No, all seems well, have a terrible day!

I opened the airlock and dropped down onto the dirt.

Clinging to the edge of one of the crumbling plateaus of Sirrocco, Amity, for all its ancient steel girders and baked in concrete squats, only seemed to ever be one bad dust storm away from toppling over the edge entirely.

Luckily, with that history came lots of people, and with lots of people, came anonymity, Quints or no Quints. Even The Nomad could go undetected here, provided Overseer kept its gob shut.

I paid the guy who ran the shipyard, then set off towards Corey’s shop right on the edge of the city.

Corey’s Courriers’ was little more than a flat box with a couple of windows in it, but given that anything not owned directly by the Quints in Amity looked equally shit, that didn’t say much. Inside was clean but not much else; a couple of fake leather couches so cracked they crumbled at the slightest touch, a steadily dying lemon tree on the counter, an inch high crack under the door of Corey’s office.

The man himself was nowhere in sight, but I didn’t want to piss him off more than I already had so I didn’t call out to him. Instead, I took a seat on one of the couches and turned on the view screen in the corner. It was on a news channel and I couldn't be bothered changing it, so I left it on.

A woman with a pink pixie cut was going over the usual fair; some weird illness out on Deadrock that they were quarantining people over, pirates skulking along the reverie drifts (as if that was news), some guy the Quints were willing to pay a lot of money to get hold of… a hundred million creds. Impressive.

“No spacers, bloody hell, I get it!" Corey was back.

I jumped to my feet, and he raised a hand to my face, walking straight past me, comm chip in his wrist held up to his ear, "Just one moment pet, I'll be–"

It was pretty easy to tell the moment he saw me.

"I'll call you back my love," he said to his wrist, paling under the thick brown walrus moustache trembling atop his lip.

"Alright there Cor," I said, grinning sheepishly.

In his office, Corey made tea. "I wasn't expecting you back after that debacle with the pirates, but it is good to see you in one piece."

"Sorry 'bout that.” I scratched the back of my head. After he’d had to send three guys to rescue me, Corey had told me in no uncertain terms that he would absolutely not be giving me any new jobs until I actually learned how to be a decent courier, “I know I shouldn't be asking this, but…" My stomach rumbled right on cue. "I really need the work."

"I really do wish I could but…" he frowned, "Actually, there might be one thing."

Corey slid a data pad across the table to me and I picked it up.

"This is very hush hush, yes?" Corey said.

I scrolled through the datapad. The client was one ‘bonfire’, a bounty hunter apparently, and the cargo… “I’m not a people smuggler Cor.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘people smuggling’, there’s only one person, after all!”

“Cor…”

He sighed, “I know, it’s not ideal, but the pay is very generous. Three million creds if she gets to Reverie safely, another if she gets safely out of the Devil’s Helix and into the Scorched Gap.”

That kind of money could keep me firmly in the realm of ‘not starving’ for months. It was good money, “Alright,” I said, “But I’m not promising it won’t go tits up.”

“Good man, on the iron?”

I pulled the flat black token I had on a cord around my neck and pressed it to my lips, “On the iron.”

Deepen your relationship

Swear A Vow: Miss

“Shut it,” I said, picking up the pad I had abandoned earlier. It was a digi-book, part of a series, ‘Adventures of Captain Venri.’ It was about officers in the Commonwealth Fleet - a relic of a distant past, before the Clans fractured.

I made it back to the nomad with little fanfare and settled down to wait for Bonfire, ignoring the Overseer’s disappointed chipper of Oh, you didn’t die horribly, how disappointing.

That is extremely unholy Ash.

The Overseer was not wrong on that account.

A clang echoed through the ship. I whipped round, getting to my feet, “Hello?”

Enter The Fray: Weak Hit

Something swung towards my head.

React Under Fire: Strong Hit

I dodged, taking a step further into the cabin as figure in full body armour lunged at me, they missed, staggered slightly, and gave me the opportunity to reach for my pistol.

Gain Ground: Miss

A sharp stinging sensation in my leg, I looked down - there was a needle, and a vial of fluid rapidly depositing itself into my leg. And then, everything went black.

Face Defeat

Endure Harm: Weak Hit

Mistress Bonfire, the filthy heretic is awake!

I woke up tied to my own pilot’s chair but mercifully un-groggy from the tranq dart. The figure who attacked me was tapping away at the console.

Bloody snitch.

With a click, the figure, Bonfire presumably, pressed a button in her helm to slide the visor back. She walked around the chair and crouched in front of me.

For a bounty hunter, she was remarkably plain looking. No necklace of human teeth, no bloodstains on her armour, no visible tattoos of all the people she’d killed. Just pretty brown eyes and a few strands of razor straight hair escaping her helmet. Almost… innocent looking.

She pressed the nozzle of her pistol to my head. Maybe not that innocent.

“You know,” I said, trying very hard not to panic, “This really isn’t the best way to treat the bloke who’s gonna be carting your arse across the sector.”

“Lux Engstrom.”

“Bless you.”

She dug the barrel of the pistol further into my temple, “You are not as funny as you think you are. Where is he?”

“I don’t even know who he is, nevermind where!”

“I’ve seen this ship,” she hissed, “It has spheries written all over it. Tell me what you know!”

Spheries. Children of The Sphere. Shit.

“Okay, you’re not wrong that this used to be a Spherie vessel–”

Used to be?!

“Used to be a Spherie vessel. And… yes, I used to be involved with them.” That wasn’t a part of my history that I enjoyed being reminded of. “But I haven’t had contact with any of them in years. Not nearly long enough to have literally any idea who this Lux feller is.”

Compel: Strong Hit (w/ a match)

Her shoulders sagged and she let the pistol fall to her side, “Alright. I believe you. Sorry for the trouble.”

“Water under the bridge. Really appreciate it if you could let me go though.” She cut me loose, and I stuck out my hand.

“Let’s do this properly, I’m Ash, or ‘Princess’ if you’re one of Corey’s lot.”

She smiled and took my hand, “Bonfire.”

Make a Connection: Weak Hit

“I have already deposited the funds for your pay with Mr. Corey, so I will be needing to be shown to my quarters now.”

Abrupt. Okay, I could do abrupt.

“Sure, this way.”

Once Bonfire was settled in one of the Nomad’s bunks, I made my way back to the cockpit. Bonfire wanted to go to Reverie Station. The E-drive could probably get us there in no more than five or six jumps even without access to the path. Only Quint approved couriers got access to the paths, and I most definitely was not one of those.

“Alright Over-dickhead,” I said, “Let’s get this show on the road. Calculate the fastest course to Reverie if you would.”

Take me home.

“No.”

Secure An Advantage: Weak Hit

Course found.

“No pirates?”

They’d probably be less heretical than you.

“They’d probably also sell you for parts.” I leaned over to the shipwide comm, “Attention all passengers, please prepare for drift.”

And then, we took off.

Undertake an Expedition: Miss

Health Spirit Supply Momentum 5 5 5 5