Assassination of the Guillaume Military Brass
I returned to the mobile hangar and climbed out of the Nexus. My body felt crushed under the weight of gravity.
'Gotta send word that the job's done...' I wasn't sure if I'd manage it before crashing.
Panting raggedly, I shuffled to the control panel, then a better idea hit me. I opened my mouth.
"SIF, can you compile the combat data?"
Nexus database synchronized. Possible.
"Then... haa, compile it and send to Olivia Bio Group?"
Commencing task. Extracting data…
Not bad for a lowly hangar management AI. Listening to SIF work away, I decided to grab a quick nap first.
In the corner of the mobile hangar was a modest rest area. I wiped the dried blood caked on my right cheek like it was nothing, hooked up my IV line, and pumped in the life-support meds through my veins.
With those precautions against dying in my sleep, I collapsed face-first onto the hard mattress and passed out.
I woke after a deep sleep with a splitting headache. No idea how much time had passed. Guess I'd gotten used to having a doc tend to me constantly without realizing it.
Frowning slightly, I staggered to the computer. The clock showed ten hours had flown by. And there was a reply from Olivia Bio Group overnight.
I clicked it open.
So that's how it went down. The Guillaume military had hidden that Nexus pilot to hit the factory and draw attention, buying time for Guillaume's crew to slip away. But the second they were spotted moving stealthily, the op was doomed. Might've been smarter to roll that Nexus with the main force.
The debriefing voice from the woman continued.
Sneaky product plug tucked in there. Wonder if all corps do that. I watched their promo video for a bit, then closed the message.
'No need to check if the pay hit.'
But I fired up the account manager linked to the Nexus anyway.
'Hm, exactly 120,000 credits.'
Main mission pay: 70k. Nexus takedown bonus: 50k. Nailing one Nexus nearly doubled the payout.
Anyway, the account held just enough for this job. I'd wondered if the previous pilot's account was still linked, but no dice.
'Weird it even has an account.'
Did the old pilot set it up for me? Fat chance. I poked around the program more.
But scanning the transaction history, I let out an involuntary groan.
Four months ago—the day I jacked the Nexus—a massive sum had transferred out to another account. They'd cleaned it out completely.
So this linked account was originally Rabe's, for sure.
'But that makes it even weirder.'
No pursuit after I stole their Nexus, no account freeze, not even a bounty. They didn't do jack to screw me over—just yoinked their own cash and peaced out?
'Like, "You took the Nexus, so here's the account as a freebie bonus."'
Ultimate big dick energy. Couldn't make sense of it.
Suspicious as hell, obviously.
"Ugh."
Was it smart to keep using Rabe's callsign like this? Was I tangled in some massive conspiracy?
'But what can I do about it now?'
If shit was gonna hit, it would've by now. Four months since I stole her name. No fallout.
Shaking off the unease, I quit staring at the account. Pointless riddles.
Better to plan what to do with my first real operating funds.
'What to spend the pay on.'
Easy. All of it on the Nexus. Merc life—could die on the next gig. Skimp on gear? Nah.
I hit up the corp sales sites linked to the merc network and shopped for new parts. Starting with the frame.
Standard frame was off for my style. Cruise mode's my jam, but booster endurance sucked. Time for a heavyweight frame.
"Sir, Rabe's activity log updated."
"Long silence. Four months? Anyway, what's up?"
"Well..."
The operator glanced between his tablet and the analyst, gauging the mood.
After a beat, he spoke.
"Took a job from Olivia Bio Group. Assassinating military brass. Remember that armed protest in the news? Ties into that."
"...What?"
The analyst got why the operator was nervous. Without Olivia Bio's fat stamp on the log, he wouldn't buy it either. Rabe taking corp work? World upside down.
He tapped his pen.
"See? Told you—the pilot changed. Back then."
"But what kept 'em quiet four months, then pop up now...?"
"Not our biz. Point is, expand surveillance. Rabe could pop anywhere."
"You don't think she's dead?"
"Nah, that one's not the dying type."
Trust? Not the good kind. The operator twitched at the analyst's odd vibe but nodded.
"What about the new pilot with Rabe's callsign?"
"Right. If they're active, original Rabe greenlit it. Gotta watch 'em too. Might approach later. Who the hell is this guy anyway?"
"Could be the pilot swap was all planned."
"Jumping to conclusions. Don't overthink."
Otherwise, the new Rabe taking corp gigs could be a plant... wild theories snowball.
The analyst shook his head.
"Track first. Decide disposal later."
"Got it."
He eyed the two logs. One: Smashing Raize into a pillar that day. Two: This job.
System logs painted the Nexus's brutal, hyper-precise moves down to the tiniest part.
"What, some curse on the callsign?"
Else, how do two Rabe pilots both have freakish skill? He was half-buying the operator's theory.
'Gotta play it careful.'
Approach the new Rabe slow, natural. Chess pieces shifted in his head; some fell.
Main frames are Nexus core parts—pricey as hell. Options limited on my budget.
Could save up, but nah—spend fresh cash quick. Merc rule: Gear now, might not live tomorrow.
Browsed merc-net corp sites. Bought Galante's GREECE frame. Second-cheapest heavyweight.
'Burst fuel efficiency's iffy, but cruise mode mainline—minor flaw, tolerable.'
Ran sims to tweak loadout for the new frame.
Post-frame: ~12k credits left. Swap FCS chip to close-range. Grab a mid-range too.
Not quite enough for weapons. But new build locked in.
Next stop for my mobile hangar: Nest. Short corp stint over—back to base.
I sat blankly in the Nexus cockpit. Old question bubbled up; raspy voice slipped out thin.
"SIF, why'd you take me to Nest? I said hospital."
Route that day bypassed a nearby refugee camp for distant Nest. Like the system was possessed.
SIF stayed silent on my question. Weird—no snappy reply even to trivia.
That eerie quiet shut me up too.
Thudding propellers droned heavy as the mobile hangar sliced silently through the sky.