Mercenaries’ Tale – 4.20 Promises
Gratin was powerful. The mercenaries had never doubted that but sometimes it was easy to forget how powerful. As they wandered out into the early dawn air, they were hit by a stark reminder.
There were craters everywhere from all the spells that had missed their targets. Large patches of snow had melted and were in the process of re-freezing. Parts of the complex were either on fire or had been outright obliterated. It was easy to mistake the cause of the carnage for mortar shell fire. The two mercenaries cautiously traipsed through it, looking for any sign of their missing friend.
The thought of Gratin losing wasn’t one that ever really graced their minds. Sure, he could run low on power sometimes and there was what happened in the Power Plant but the Genetix raid team had cheated so it didn’t really count. Having a mage as part of the team was like bringing a tank to a knife fight: he could never really lose, could he?
And yet, as they traversed the magic scared battlefield, they were faced with the proposition that, just this once, Gratin had.
Doug began rummaging through the rubble piles in the off-chance that Gratin was under one whereas Kate stared numbly at the tracks in the ground. She could see where Abaddon had pulled himself through the snow; a long bloody groove carved out which led to a collection of footprints.
Some very unique and easy to recognise footprints.
Footprints that looked like they were created by sets of power armour…
“Nononono…” Kate was muttering under her breath as she backed up to fetch Doug, pausing when her foot nudged something that didn’t feel like a rock. Her heart sank as her eyes locked on to something gold half buried in the snow…
“Doug! Over here!” the soldier turned to see a very pale looking Kate clutching Gratin’s singed mask. She was trembling as she looked at it, the gunslinger slowly sinking to her knees as her mind worked feverishly to try and comprehend what she was looking at but nothing made sense. There was no blood besides Abaddon’s so if Salmanic took Gratin then they were bringing him in alive. Why? It looked like something was being dragged, had they hurt him? Was he unconscious? She was too tired to work through this, her brain merely sending up error messages. Despair was beginning to take over.
Doug merely got angry. The footprints were unmistakable: Salmanic Troopers had come through here and taken their friend when he was down, alone and vulnerable. An image of his old PSF buddies flashed before his eyes. He wasn’t about to let this happen again…
Doug began to follow the footprints, Kate stirring enough to hurry after him. The further away from the Central Hub they got, the faster they began to move, Doug breaking into a sprint with Kate hot on his heels.
The footprints led back to the lab block, the structure looming in the distance. Doug could feel his sides hurting and lungs struggling but he pressed on. Gratin was up ahead and in trouble. He had to reach him. Just a little further…
There was movement on the roof. An aircraft was taking off; sleek and blue with the familiar and loathed diamond symbol embossed on the door. The door which was only just beginning to close, Doug briefly catching a glimpse of a robed individual slumped on a bench, surrounded by armed guards before the doors closed. Doug tried to push himself to go faster but it was no use; he was too far away and stuck on the ground whereas the ship was in the air and steadily rising. It turned to face North and sped off, its on board cloaking system turning the craft invisible before Doug had even made it to the building’s entrance.
Doug staggered to a halt and let out a frustrated roar, screaming at the top of his lungs in the direction he had seen the aircraft travelling in, fury permeating every note. In the distance, a flock of birds took off as the sound reverberated around the valley but otherwise his cries were met with the cold indifference of the frozen canyon.
They were too late.
Gratin was gone.
“Wh…what do we do…?” Kate had skidded to a halt only a few feet behind him, Doug turning to stare her in the eye, panting for breath, clouds of water vapour escaping into the frigid air with each exhale. She looked panicked, shaken even, her eyes darting back and forth between Doug and the spot the ship disappeared in.
“Th-there has to be something we can do! They can’t just take him! They can’t!”
Doug, his breathing laboured from the run, stared at her dumbly.
“They’ve already done it…I don’t see any ships around here…can’t give chase…” he replied. Kate ran her hands through her hair, holding on tightly as her breathing became more and more uneven.
“Nonono… we-we have to be missing something! Th-this can’t be happening…”
“I don’t see any hangers… maybe there’s one in town somewhere but Gratin’ll be long gone by the time we find it…”
“Then wh-wh-what do we do? What do we do Doug?” she was clearly falling into a panic attack, her whole body trembling, her composure in tatters. Doug absorbed the sight of her then marched towards her.
“Are you asking me, Doug McCracken, professional bastard, for a plan of action?” he queried as he closed the gap. Kate allowed her hands to fall limply to her sides, the red-head merely nodding as she maintained eye-contact with him, too tired to add anything coherent to the conversation. The night had taken too much of a toll on her psyche.
“Well here’s what I say we do: I say we take the fight to Salmanic. They stole our mate and now I wish to lodge a complaint. A big one. On Silverton’s face. So I say we go back to the City of Light, raid Salmanic HQ, bust Archie out then do us and the rest of the galaxy a favour and tear Silverton a new one!” Kate went to interrupt but Doug was on a roll. He began to pace, his mind racing as he laid out his plan.
“I mean, sure, there’s the matter of getting back to Centrissal, never mind the City. We’re gonna have the law and every two-bit lowlife vigilante desperate for a big payout in the country gunning for us. And when we get home there’s the fact that Salmanic has its own private militia guarding the financial ziggurat that we’d have to get past just to have a crack at breaking into the thing,” he turned to face Kate, grasping her upper-arm as he leaned in close, “but that doesn’t matter because right now I’m pretty pissed off and I know you are too. The likes of Salmanic just thinks we’re pieces on a board or characters in a play. Well I say it’s high time we started writing the script!” there was a mad glint in his eyes and a look of determination set into his brow. Kate couldn’t find the words to argue with him, instead letting him rant.
“We’ve both been turned into things we never wanted to be. I wanted to follow in my Granddad’s footsteps and fight for my planet but it turns out that this planet is a tainted ball of shit and Salmanic’s at the heart of it, infecting it. You just wanted to help people and stop anyone else falling into the cracks. Cracks that Salmanic pushed you and many others into. Well I say we take those goals back. You said you’d help me kill Silverton, now I’m asking you for real. Are you with me?” Kate was staring at him in awe. The sun was rising behind him, Doug practically glowing in the dawn’s light, aided by the fires from the husk of the Central Hub in the distance. He was clearly out of his mind but his words resonated with her. This was bigger than them, the image of the all of the Twigarnians hooked up inside the Power Plant coming to mind…
They had a choice to be swept up in History’s wake or to take control.
It was time to wrestle back some control.
Her expression slowly morphed into a grin that Doug mirrored as he could see the cogs turning in her head.
“I’m with you,” what happened next took them both by surprise as pure adrenaline took over Doug, the soldier acting on instinct as he pulled Kate in, their lips forcefully connecting as the moment took hold. Kate moved to resist out of shock at first but found herself melting into his arm, her own pair finding their way around his neck and holding on for dear life, Doug dipping her ever so slightly as the kiss deepened.
In the grand scheme of things, it was a fairly typical first kiss. It wasn’t the sort of kiss people write sonnets about and it certainly wasn’t about to go down in history as one of the greatest kisses of all time. It wouldn’t have even made the top ten. Kate’s side of things were powered by anxious adrenaline, her technique being that of someone who knew the basic anatomy of a kiss – that the tongue featured somewhere and so forth, she may even have seen a diagram at some point – but had little reason to practice until now.
Doug’s technique was that of someone who had practised often, many moons ago in his youth but had long since retired from the game. He was like an ex-cyclist inexplicably finding himself on a bike for the first time in decades and was trying to remember which way you moved the pedals.
All in all, it was textbook in it’s first kiss-iness. It could perform seminars on how to be a typical first kiss. It was the rough, passion-filled first step for two people who had no clue what they were doing, but could potentially grow to be very good at it if they were to perform the action often enough.
And then it was over. The two took to leaning against each others’ foreheads, both panting heavily, both feeling somewhat giddy. Doug found himself chuckling.
“…I’m not sure where that features in the battle plan but more of that will be good too!” he japed, Kate joining in the laughter.
“You’re completely mad, you know,” she managed to say, Doug merely grinning down at her, the gunslinger still cradled in his arm.
“HA! And don’t you forget it!” he straightened the two of them up and turned so they were both facing where he had last seen the aircraft transporting Gratin, holding her close, “Ya hear that Silverton! I’m a mad bastard and we’re coming for you! We’re gonna hit the City like a fucking bomb!” he yelled at the night sky, still laughing. Kate managed to get herself under control, stepping away from the self proclaimed madman.
“Now wait a minute, Doug, we need to discuss details,” insisted the red-head.
“What details?”
“Your arm, transport, how we’ll get home and the fact you’re covered in blood?” listed Kate, counting each point off on her fingers. Now they had a goal, she seemed to be coming to her senses, the practical side of her personality taking hold. They had a target. She could forge a path towards a target.
Doug took up a more pensive stance, taking her concerns as seriously as he could.
“Hmm, doubt we’ll be able to do anything about my arm until we get to the mainland. Transport…we’ll have to see if The Major’s been doing his job and fixed up the Flying Hound or else we might have to go shopping. One of these companies have to have some air transport that we can borrow. As for the blood…” he glimpsed down at his outfit, scratching one such congealed stain on his leathers in a half-hearted attempt at cleaning it off, “it can wait,”
“No it bloody well can’t!” Kate insisted with a laugh, giving Doug pause.
“Why not?”
“Because we’re professionals and professionals don’t go walking around caked in blood!” she explained sarcastically with a laugh and a wink, coaxing more laughter from her partner, “I think the Major can wait at least a little while longer,”
“Yeah, knowing him he’s probably drunk off his ass in his apartment right now” remarked Doug as Kate led him towards the Lab Block in the hopes of finding a bathroom to freshen up in. Preferably one that wasn’t on fire or filled with mutants.
By the time the day shift arrived for work, Genetix was left a charred husk of its former self. There were many charred and burnt bodies lying around in various states of decomposition, leaving no bodily evidence of who they were in life. The only clue as to how the majority of the facility had went up in flames was the indication of the heavy use of generator fuel, along with a small scrap of card that was pinned to a partially demolished section of wall. It read:
| Ha! I got ya good! Signed, your friendly neighbourhood bastard Doug McCracken |
Post by Sam | February 25, 2023 at 12:01 am | The Mercenaries' Tale | No comment
Tags: Blaise, Doug McCracken, Forest Canyon, Genetix, Gratin, Polaris, Salmanic Incorporated, the Mercs