Cath

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

“Life is brutal. Billions of years of things eating other things to survive. But at least it has meaning. What is life if you don’t need anything to survive?”

Light checked the time. “I’d say it’s the start of ‘tonight’, yeah. They didn’t specify a time so we must assume whoever might be here going to be here a while, no? I'm not hungry yet, and am in no mood to sit down when we've come all this way to find the person responsible for the messsage. I think we should search the restaurant, look for clues. Maybe if there is a member of staff around here we could ask them…”

He looked around. The paths between nests were crowded with rowdy and low-status Chekeri, with the occasional QV and Tindrel, but no one who looked like they might work here. Though that was difficult to discern. A song about the four horsemen of the apocalypse crackled through speakers overhead.

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

Light sighed and placed his tools down. He thought about digging his metaphorical heels in, but it wasn’t like their schedule was jam-packed with job opportunities. His current to-do list for the day included pottering around in the engine room with a cheap beer and a diluted drug bowl. He checked Wurvel House’s web presence quickly but couldn’t see any particular promotion. That didn’t necessarily mean anything though.

He slopped out from under the dash and got up. “Fine! Let’s travel all the way over there and learn about their new menu. I can always bring back takeout.”

---

They took public transport, since short term docking fees were extortionate pretty much anywhere. Light sulked most of the way but did take in interest in the view from the window as they left their urban conurbation and headed towards another.

Bakaran Parkside was a community on the north face of a large mountain range overlooking the city. A diverse range of buildings nestled into copses of old-growth trees. A steady stream of flyers went to and fro, landing on pads surrounded by lush vegetation. It was hot and humid despite the late hour.

The building that housed Wurvel House had been a particularly grand residence Chekeri once. It boasted six integral trees adorned with a maze of platforms and towers. However, it had evidently fallen on hard times. Both wings had been sold off to businesses, its front garden paved for parking and the back terraces overgrown with weeds. The restaurant occupied about 1/3rd of the west wing. A garish yellow sign with a symbol of the Wurvel bird protruded from the roof.

Light looked sceptically around as they alighted from the taxi. Two scruffy Chekeri fought over scraps on the front steps.

“Well this looks…quaint.” Light said.

Upon approaching the entrance, they’d find Wurvel house to be bustling with patrons. Inside was a claustrophobic space full of twists and turns. Diners squatted sociably together in synthetic ‘nests’ dug into the floor. Large platters of succulent roast Wurvel, a prey bird, along with their eggs, steamed vegetables and fried breads descended from the ceiling.

“Ok, tough guy. Who are we looking for?” Light asked as they shouldered their way into the lobby area. No one came to seat them. The chatter was deafening.

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

Light got a rush from helping to decipher the message, even if his contribution was relatively minor. He was then surprised when he recognised the name that appeared.

“Oh, I know Wervel House! It's an old Chek-brek joint. Serves at all hours, literally never closes. This must be some kind of clever marketing trick to get new customers. Well played, well played…” He moved to continue what he was doing before. He wasn’t hungry at that moment, and Bakaran Parkside was over an hour away. They’d have to do a little more to get him through the door.

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

“We don’t have to just be smugglers, we can do other legitimate jobs too! Now we’re armed, we could try to land a gig transporting rare metals or something? Ah, I don’t know.” He finished with a big shiver. Light had been a haulier for a long time, but never for anything as valuable those nondescript devices in the last job. The possibilities seemed dauntingly endless.

“Let’s go eat. World domination can wait until tomorrow. You can tell me all about the discount Jess offered you.”

---

Twenty day cycles later…

---

As it turned out, world domination could wait much longer than tomorrow. There was no new job offer from Jess, and only one short excursion For Good Cause. They picked up a few odd day-long jobs around the planet, but the payment from this only just covered their regular expenses. The current jobs on the Myrmidon board all had lengthy contracts that would’ve precluded any other activity. Senjen did fulfil his acting duties though, gaining a meagre bonus.

Then out of the blue they receive a junk text message via the ship’s comms net:

<< KFJDHT HBITW, JDSAEOO HIUSSVRF. LWQQGUH>>

“Hmm, weird.” Light said. He was repairing a busted power conduit under the main dash when he heard the ping.

“Senjen! You seeing this? It has got to be some kind of interference, right?”

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

“Huh? Oh, right.” Light looked up from the interface he was using inside his suit. He was shopping for essential supplies to try and stave off buyer’s remorse for the scarabs. They had cost a lot more than he’d been looking to spend, and there was still more investment needed. He sorely hoped another job would come their way soon.

“I was thinking…Maybe we should move our base to somewhere clients know to find us? This place is cheap but…well…” He looked around at the other ships docked nearby. Some looked like they hadn’t flown in a century, with all manner of personal effects littering the ground. “It doesn’t exactly scream ‘hauliers for hire’. Maybe we should dock at one of the container ports instead? Or one of the markets even. What do you think?”

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

“Phew! That was some impressive shooting back there, partner.” Light said as they emerged back into the relative brightness of the scrapyard. He cracked the bang stick open and two big red shells popped out, wreathed in gun smoke. He heard short, sharp raps and realised their escort was slow-clapping. Her eyes glowed blue and flashed.

“Smile for the camera; this is going all over our social media networks.”

When they arrived back at the dismantling yard, the picture of them staring slackly into the camera was projected in epic proportions on the wall. Rodion let out another booming laugh and slow clapped as they approached. “Bravo! The boysies who shot the space vermin! You have the parts, yes? Good! Then a deal is a deal, ninety million will conclude our business here today.”

Light hesitated for a moment, but did release the funds into the proffered card reader. The green glow bathed Rodion’s face as he watched the holopad eagerly for transaction to complete. When it did, he beamed widely and grasped their hands to shake. “You are proud owner of three scarab! I will have my men help you load them. I wish you beautiful day, full of opportunity! And don’t forget to come back to Uncle Rodion when you want new QV ship, yes?”

When they got back to the ship, the scarabs were waiting on a hovering flatbed by the cargo ramp. They were dark purple in hue and each about the size of a small car. Their main carriage, largely made up of the long gun, sat on four legs.

Another woman waited nearby. She handed Senjen a holopad. “Control panel.” She said bluntly, tapping a big button on the interface. One of the scarabs got to its feet and looked around. Spotting its new home, it disembarked the flatbed and clanked methodically up the side of the hull until it nestled comfortably between the rocky crevices. The other two scarabs, presumably those requiring new parts, remained still and curled up. Light activated the cargo ramp and the flatbed deposited them both inside.

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

85 is still a lot… Light sent back. Then he thought about the near miss they’d had only a few days before. If they were going to make more money with dangerous jobs, they had to invest in their own protection. Even he knew that.

…But these scarabs sound like a better investment than the blister turret. Frankly I don’t like the idea of excavating a vulnerability into the side of my ship if we’re not even sure we’ll be able to fire it. The scarabs have a very low install cost by comparison.

“I’ll let them go for 90, but no less.” Rodion retorted.

“87.5, for a loyal customer?” Light offered.

“Hmmm. No. 90 is final.” He concluded; Light sagged.

“Ok, 90 it is.” Rodion’s features lit up. He grasped Light’s manipular and shook it vigorously.

“Good! Very good! You will like these, very high-quality machines.”

Rodion marked the location of a Tindrel Mountain-class science vessel somewhere within the scrapyard. “Here is where scarabs came from. My crew are very sure spare parts inside. I send someone with you, make sure you’re ok but also you only take what you came for, eh?” He laughed again, slapped Light’s suit jovially. It wobbled like jelly.

“Come back here when you done. I will have scarabs ready to load onto your ship after payment.”

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

Rodion let out a booming, sardonic laugh. “You misunderstand me! I said you can have the parts and labour for free. You think I pay you one hundred million to clear out some harmless little bugs? Look around; I have hundreds of men, women and droids who would do it themselves for that amount. No – call me nosy but I don’t mind seeing what that new rig of yours can do. That’s only reason this offer still stands.”

“And how much are the other two options?” Light asked politely, casting a worried glance back towards the ship. He was keen to avoid confrontation with this burly man and his legions of goons when escape was so far away.

“Hmmm. Twenty million for the 88-T and uh…one forty million for the MAC.” There was another call from the scaffolding in Bulgarian but Rodion silenced it with a raised hand. His beady eyes shone greedily in the sparklight.

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

“Since we are friends, I let you have all three for 100m Veruhn plus 10 for parts and repairs. Orrr…if you want to check the ship these scarabs came in for the parts yourself, I will let you have them for free. Trouble is, it has been…infested…with some space vermin. You’ll need to use that Myrmidon suit real good, eh!”

"Hmmm. And these are the only options?" Light asked.

“Ohh, you won’t like my final offer.”

“Try us.”

“Okay…magnetic accelerator cannon, vertically mounted and dual ended. Its some Chekeri nonsense but could put a round through much bigger ship if you can actually hit them! Not cheap, either.”

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

Rodion’s mouth made an ‘n’ shape inside his neat facial hair. “What can I say? Its uh.. old school, hmm? Auto-assist for drones and fighters, nothing bigger than that. Like arcade game in my office. Duck hunt, very fun, very addictive. You buy or no?” Someone called down to Rodion in Bulgarian from a scaffold erected around one of the starship hulls. He shouted back over the sound of drilling and grinding, gesturing animatedly.

“We might be able to hook up some of our other sensors to get a longer range view, but it sounds like we’d be relying on you actually being a good shot.” Light surmised to Senjen. “What else do you have?” He asked Rodion.

“Well, I do have buyer interested already…but I have three Scarab turrets in stock. One needs new power core and one needs new optics but they pack more punch, huh? Mostly autonomous and give full field of fire! Work good on Tindrel piece of shit ships too.”

He showed them another schematic of a six legged robotic gun platform that could move around the outside of the hull like a beetle on a piece of dung.