Chapter 1: Havens Hold

Prologue: Predator & Prey

Insects buzzed as rays of light slithered its way through the canopy. The gleaming eyes of a nida cat pierced the dense foliage. Its tail twitched, grazing the top of the meter-high grass. The nida crouched at the edge of a rocky clearing where a young taza bird focused on preening itself with its beak.

The nida’s opportunity had come.

Long claws dug deep into the soil ready to propel its body. A slight ruffle triggered the flightless taza which froze mid-scratch, ears primed for another sound.

Bursting from cover, grass gave way to bared teeth. Red and purple fur streaked towards the taza as it turned in fear to flee. The nida pounced and its claws sunk in, securing another meal for the day. The taza squawked in desperation.

The short struggle was all but over.

Moments away from enjoying its meal, the nida’s head jerked towards the sky. A loud roar above from engines of a planetary transport shook the jungle beneath it. Pressure on the taza lifted, allowing the bird to drive it’s razor sharp beak deep into the nida’s paw. The nida yelped in pain as it pulled back and scowled at the bleeding wound, to which the taza scrambled to its feet and fled into the brush. The nida gave chase after its fleeing meal.

The never-ending hunt pulsed alive within its veins.

Worlds, humans, and animals; all needed to adapt to support new waves of life and inevitable conflict in the Bhakus Sector. This particular expanse of space made no exceptions to any specimen.

~~~

Planet: Crucis II - Settlement of Havens Hold

Third Tier of the Bhakus Sector

Date of 241.06-25

The mercenary attempted his best to scrape the bloodstains off his thick leather boot, a memento from those of different opinions. As per usual in these parts, when words failed then fists flew. Thus two pairs of hands tried to rough him up less than an hour ago. The smell of alcohol was dominant on the heavier set of the pair. Thankfully, coordination and intoxication did not mix. The skinny one also lost a lot of fight once his wrist got broken. It was a bad night for the two of them, but he felt a bit better about his own.

The moon hung just above the towering cliff over the town, yet it was high enough to illuminate the buildings below. Thick soles of his black boots absorbed the impact upon the ground, loose dirt and rocks shifted underneath. Strong gusts complemented a crisp late night air. The chill made him shiver and pull the beige coat tighter around his lean but muscular body.

Havens Hold was a small and lovely renegades’ paradise far from the First Tier worlds. First Tier being the designation for central planets within this sector under the eye of the Mercantile Coalition, or Coalition for short. Havens Hold, or the Crucis System specifically, was on the outer edge and thus considered a Third Tier world.

Havens Hold came about as a joint effort for autonomy from unwanted government intervention. Those of more discreet business transactions swarmed it like hungry critters. Merchants, mercenaries, and more shared a mutual disdain towards the Coalition in particular. Its regulations were ignorant at best, oppressive at worst.

Safe haven or not, the mercenary kept a weapon within easy reach. The blood spots from earlier were case in point as he moved on through the night. He tried his best to put the prior brawl out of his mind. However, the cut on his cheek still stung.

If only they could terraform away all the assholes, but that'd be too easy…

He walked past the burned metal of a corner building, something new since his last visit. He mostly ignored the bounty board built over a dried-up well. In the corner of his eye, he swore there was a flyer that bore a striking resemblance to him. Lastly, he passed up the schoolhouse. Not many kids lived in town, but it was the one place everyone in town knew never to touch.

The shadows fell behind as he emerged into a wider street. Up ahead, he spotted the familiar neon lights. His hands relaxed and let go of the tight grip of his coat. His breath calmed, his feet moving as if a mind of their own. It was not as flashy as other red-light districts, but the impression still delivered. This specific light show belonged to a well-known establishment, ‘Sweet & Shiny’, a popular place to drown sorrows.

At some point lost to history, this was a place he often visited with another. Maddux was the name, and one of the very few people he had felt able to confide in. That was years ago now. He rubbed his chest, feeling the object under his shirt and hanging from his neck.

“Hey, Matt!” A youthful lady beckoned him over with a wave. “I see you over there! I hope you didn’t think you could sneak by that easily?”

Speaking of a woman's scorn…

Leaning against the front porch railing was the one and only, Jayne Hesson. A woman in her late twenties with luscious curves that any guy would go head over heels for, and damn she knew it. But he knew she had eyes for him more than others.

Matt, Mathusala Carmack on official record, was a mercenary by trade. The years had put a strain on him and showed in the lines around his somewhat sunken eyes and unkempt brown tousled hair. Without his usual cap, his hair looked even more like tangled strings. A scar or two from a bullet grazing interrupted his otherwise chiseled jawline. The stereotypical rugged look that many a girl would fall for, an idea that cracked him up.

“Nice to see you, and ever so cheerful too.” Slowly striding over while straightening his hair in vain, Matt tended her call. “Having a decent night so far?”

“Decent enough now that you're here. Though, it'd be even better if you could stay a while. It’s been months and you’ve barely been here to take a piss.” A subtle seductive tone lurked below as she played with the lace frills on her corset. The white and green cloth lit up under the vibrant lights. “Tell me the truth. What gives, stranger?”

“I’m sorry, cross my heart." He hooked his thumb under his belt, eyes locked onto hers. "I've been busy, and the money got too good to refuse.”

“Usual excuses, and I don’t see any cash.” She pouted with an exasperated sigh. “It’s been too damn long and you promised.”

“Fine, fine, I’m working on stuff. I had to pay off some debts after this last run.” Matt was not lying on that account. Nothing in life was ever free, and running a mercenary crew was high on that list. “Horus hiked up his prices on supplies, especially fuel for Freeman and his pyro ways. What I wouldn’t give to have the budget of a proper PMC.”

Private Military Corporation, the end all power of this sector and its historical driving force of expansion…

He closed the gap and rested his hand on the polished wooden railing, close enough to gain a more beneficial view. The laced bodice accentuated her curves well and helped uplift her feminine features. He restrained himself not to jump over the railing and grab her, a small shake in his hands. She was quite the lovely woman indeed, no argument there.

“A proper PMC? If you were then you’d be a dead man, and you don’t want that last I checked.” Jayne’s voice was sweet even when speaking of the afterlife. “You want to be like the Coalition, disdained by everyone and their mother? You’d be no better than those greedy assholes that think they own the whole bloody sector.”

Said greedy assholes also laid claim to the third largest trading federation not even a week ago. They were definitely not the most popular group for those outside looking in…

“Well, I’m sorry to offend you dear.” Matt presented one arm outstretched and one behind his back, then bowed at an almost perfect 90 degrees. He kept on with a good dose of cynicism. “I’ll stick to my ruffian merc ways, grinding through all the mud and blood the universe throws my way.”

“And that’s why you’re so irresistible. I mean, how can any woman resist a man up to his neck in dirt?” Her satirical voice then turned dour. “So, you’re here for the commotion in the back?”

“What do you think?”

“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “Who might the employer be THIS time?”

“No idea, but Hobbes said to be here.” Matt cocked his head slightly. “You didn’t see him come by yet?”

“Hobbes? Lavernius Hobbes? No, I must have missed him if so.” Her chest heaved with the implications of that name. “But you know the kinds of jobs he brings about? Without fail, you come back with at least a broken bone or something worse.”

Matt pulled back in a faked surprise manner. “Oh, are you that worried about me?”

“Hush it!” She rebuked with a playful shoo, her body less tense. “But yes, I do have a soft spot for your safety, Matt.”

Their conversation halted by a distraction on the road. A reckless car barreled by, and followed by two more with flashing lights. Matt’s hand was already on the pistol's grip and finger an inch away from the trigger guard. Instincts dulled as the vehicles left the scene, his hand relaxed its grip.

Never a dull night in Havens Hold…

He shook his head. “Dammit…I wouldn’t miss some things about this place.”

“Also, it seems habits die hard. Don’t think I didn’t catch your hand.” She pointed a convicting finger towards his weapon he almost pulled. “Honest work might be a nice change of pace for you, and live a healthier life.”

“Sure, in another lifetime.” Matt had been through the gauntlet before with her about this whole mercenary lifestyle. She brought her arms inward, pushing against the railing to emphasize her breasts. If not for the railing, she might have pulled him into her soft bosom. “Anyway, is there a side door or okay to go through the front?”

Jayne stepped back and shuffled her torso to make sure everything sat right in the front. “Hmm, follow me.”

There was a small pit in his stomach. He knew he needed a break at some point, his eyes a little more droopy as of late. Money was good but sanity was priceless. He would set aside something after this job. Jayne was worth it, and not just because of her skill set.

She curled her finger for him to follow and triggered the automatic front door. Once inside, it looked like a wild west saloon from old Earth. The walls had originally been a solid white, but the chipped paint made prior colors resurface like polka dots. An array of tables and benches sprawled the entire first floor. There was a bar on the back wall, and a picture of a mixed blue and red cat-like creature hung above the shelves.

Past the arches that supported the second story balcony stood an individual in a dark suit wearing cy-tech glasses. His clothes looked freshly ironed and not a speck of dust on him. He stood in front of a black door, one which seemed to be avoided on purpose by others.

Matt and Jayne weaved between tables from the front entrance to the secluded back corner. A few eyes followed them, though in no more than passing curiosity. Jayne was eye candy that any straight man would not refuse a free look at.

“Security with a fancy suit?” He whispered behind her. “Thought Hobbes was bullshitting it to a degree.”

She abruptly turned off to the side, pulling him behind one of the square columns near the window.

“Whatever this is, be fucking careful about it." Her eyes stayed true to Matt’s. "Only trust what you can see. From what I’ve observed, this is not your normal sketchy shit.”

Matt surveyed his surroundings for unwarranted eavesdropping. The suit at the door remained stationary, still as a statue. Jayne maintained her hush demeanor. The rest of the room continued in its normal operation.

“Look, if this is worth the headache then I got it. You worry too much.” He gently gripped her shoulder. “Worry more about where you want to go after all this is said and done.”

“Still in the cards?” Jayne shimmied closer to Matt, pushing into him. She was a talent for sure. “Mr. Slain won't take kindly of my leave and probably worse for you. I'm his prized girl after all.”

“Good thing he’s out tonight.” Matt leaned in close to her ear. “I know people, and just need money to get the pests off our hides.”

“Grease a few hands, right?” She pulled back and crossed her arms which caused his vision to drop a few inches. “If only the entire sector worked as simple as that.”

“Well that’s the plan, of sorts.”

“Mhmm.” She eyed him up and down before letting arms go limp. “It feels like you’re more honest with your merc buddies than me.”

Matt offered a neutral smile in return. “It’s different and you know it.”

She reluctantly tugged him towards the guarded door before he could utter a reply. The suit remained stoic, one hand presumably ready to pull his weapon on a moment’s notice. Jayne nodded at him to step forward.

The suit beckoned him to lean within whispering distance, his voice low and rough.

“Challenge: The sky is burning bright tonight.”

“Solution: A nova's light is infinite.” Matt replied back.

Magic words said, the suit stepped aside to let him pass. Matt pulled the door open and stepped halfway through. That was about as far as he got before a hand dug into his arm, a feminine hand.

“Talk to me after, as soon as you can.” Jayne's grip softened but the nails were still sharp. Her voice lowered to almost inaudible levels as her lips touched his ear. “If the job is that good, I want out once you’re paid.”

No sooner had her breath touched Matt’s ear than the door slammed shut behind him. A million thoughts ran through his head. If only he had power with the snap of his fingers, a wishful dream. He fixed his coat and turned to see a long hallway furnished with carpet and lanterns lining the walls. A couple meters down was an open doorway, a series of voices emitting from beyond.

With no better ideas in mind, he got his feeting moving in that direction. He slowed on approach. The voices were cheerful, holding vibrant conversations about business deals or politics. Not exactly his cup of tea, but he was already here. He turned the corner and entered through the doorway. Eyes, many eyes, judged him from a single round table in the center of the room upon his entrance.

Conversations continued but at a subdued level, a sign they were evaluating their guest. Of all the personnel present, one person Matt recognized more than the rest. It was the one who pressured him into this pot.

With the prestige present, one would think they were getting ready to rob the biggest bank vault in the sector. The only thing they were missing was an egotistical numb nut that took them one step too far. Not a betting man, his fingers crossed he was not the idiot they were counting on.

Feel like fresh meat but worth the money, right? What's the worst that can happen?