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Chapter

Nine

Have Blasters,

Will Travel

Ruulraar covered his ears and attempted to drown out the sounds of Kandria cavorting with the Human male she had brought back with her from the club. At least he was in the warm, little, closet-like slave bunk in her suite, instead of outside on the freezing streets of Eechen. The noise was also considerably less nauseating than the thumping bass that had permeated even outside of the club.

"Dang," Jon gasped. He rolled over and pulled some of the bedding around himself. "How can ya be so frisky when it's so dang cold?"

Lying on top of the covers, letting the cool air caress the bare flesh of her body, she leaned over and rubbed her hand across his muscled and somewhat hairy chest. "Mmmmmmm," she cooed, "Do you need me to warm you up?" Without waiting for an answer, she reached into his mind, stimulating the pleasure centers of his brain.

"Oh... DAMN!" he moaned as the wave of ecstasy passed through him. He ran his hand through her thick, curly hair and gently gripped the back of her head, pulling her in for a deep kiss. When she finally pulled away from him, she began planting soft, butterfly kisses across his chest.

"Hey darlin', can we talk about that job you were tellin' me about earlier tonight..." he tried to ask her.

"Work can wait, right now I want to play," she deflected his question, reaching down inside the covers to fondle him.

Taking hold of her by her upper arms, he pulled her slight body up on top of him until she was eye to eye with him, "Darlin', as good as that feels, I really need to know about that job, it's been almost two years since I got forced outta the league, and my cash supply is runnin' short," he pleaded in his twangy, colonial accent.

"Ugghhh, if we must," she pouted. "Well you see, it's very simple," she explained in between kisses as she continued to caress his chest, "My employer..." she purposely left the Governor's name and other details out of her explanation, "has certain... business rivals. She needs to undermine these rivals' positions. We need some suitable individuals to harass our rivals' business interests. We will provide you with a list of acceptable targets, supplies, lodging, and some cash to suit your day to day needs. Anything of value that you find during one of your missions, you are welcome to confiscate, with the understanding that we will receive a fifteen percent cut of its value."

"Sounds pretty good," he said running his hands through her hair, and tracing a finger along the outside of one of Kandria's pointed ears, an erogenous area for Alakáns, he had recently learned. "So... do I get the job, then?" he asked coyly.

She giggled, "Mmmmm... the grav-ball league may not have any use for you anymore," she said tracing her finger along the surgical scar on his left shoulder, "but I can certainly find some for you." She leaned in and kissed him deeply, again reaching inside his mind to tickle his pleasure receptors.

"Of course," she added as he lay recovering from the sensations she had planted in him, "the final decision isn't up to me. You'll have to meet with my employer on Dunar, and you won't be working alone, I have to find some other individuals while I'm here."

"Can I assume that you'll at least put in a good word for me?" he asked, grinning ear to ear.

"We'll have to see once I'm done 'interviewing' you," she said, rolling over and pulling him on top of her.

Kiole headed for the Drowning Pony, considerably later the following night. He had slept in for most of the day, luckily he hadn't had any more of his recurring dreams or nightmares since his drinking binge with Viper the other night. When he finally woke up, he went to buy some more clothes at the same second-hand store, since he had given away the ones he had previously bought to the slaves huddled behind the dance club the night before. Since he was pretty sure that either the cook or the waitress at the Pony had spit in his food, he ate at a more Human-friendly diner in the commercial district, which was also much cleaner than the Pony.

It was well after nightfall when he descended the steps into the smoke-filled, noisy pub. The pub was filled almost entirely with Eechena this time, and Kiole saw none of the offworlders that he had made note of the night before.

Damn,_he thought as he made his way to the bar, _Looks like I'll have to probe the dissidents, see if they have any jobs that need doing.

Finding a place on the wall near the front door, he did his best to act casually and eavesdrop on the conversations taking place in the bar. The task was made difficult by the fact that the most of the Eechena were conversing in their native language, which Kiole didn't understand.

Kiole was just about to give up on trying to find a job, and head for a more Human-friendly establishment closer to the starport when a vaguely familiar looking man entered the bar. Kiole studied him as he made his way through the pub, his head craning in every direction, trying to take in all that was going on. He was tall, taller than Kiole by several inches, and very muscular. He was also dressed rather fashionably, with bright clothes and sun-bronzed skin that was darker than his sandy-blonde hair.

Kiole made the connection just as the man, not watching where he was going, bumped into a group of Eechena laborers, causing one of them to spill his drink. The short little Eechena spun around. His factory coveralls were covered in dirt, and his face looked to have been mangled by some sort of machinery accident. Kiole pushed off the wall and surreptitiously made his way through the crowd, as if he were heading for the restroom.

"Hey!" the drunken, angry Eechena shouted at the man, "You better watch yourself!"

"I'm sorry, partner," the Human apologized in a twangy, colonial accent and raised his hands up, palms-outward in a deferential display. "I'll be more careful next time."

"You'll be dead!" the Eechena continued his tirade. Paying closer attention than the man the Eechena was harassing, Kiole saw the Eechena subtly reach into one of his pockets.

"Ain't no need for all that," the Human tried to sound as friendly as possible, not noticing the knife the Eechena had pulled out, "Why don't I just buy ya a new drink, partner?"

"I've got the death sentence in fifteen systems, you know!" the Eechena drunkenly bragged, flexing his grip on his knife. Kiole could tell he was getting ready to strike.

That's when he materialized out of the crowd with the muzzle of one of his blasters planted on the Eechena's chin as his other hand grasped the Eechena's forearm. Pressing his thumb hard between the two bones in the Eechena's wrist, he forced his hand open and the knife dropped onto the floor. "I've got it in thirty-seven," Kiole's quiet, gravelly voice shook the Eechena as his icy eyes drilled a penetrating stare into the Eechena's own eyes. "Way I see it, one more won't make a difference."

Kiole's captive gulped hard and his fellow workers all backed away. It was obvious that this had been the 'tough guy' of their group.

"I think maybe you've had too much to drink tonight, friend."

The Eechena gulped again, "Uh... yeah... maybe you're... uh... you're right."

"Maybe you should go home and sleep it off, and leave my friend here alone, huh?" Kiole passively ordered.

"Sounds like a... uh... a good idea," the Eechena agreed.

Kiole withdrew his blaster and released the Eechena's arm. The Eechena backed away rubbing his arm gingerly as Kiole continued to stare him down. Motioning to his companions, they all filed out the pub quietly.

Kiole glanced over at the young man, who was still a bit stunned by what all had just happened. "Come on, kid," he said, patting him on the shoulder, "You look like you could use a drink."

"Dang, mister, I should be buyin' you one. I ain't even seen that knife he was holdin'" the young man stammered. "You really got the death-sentence in thirty-seven systems?" he asked in disbelief.

"Nah," Kiole shook his head as they sidled up to the bar. "I just said it to intimidate him. I think it's only like four or five, actually."

The young man stood there with his jaw gaping at Kiole, as he casually ordered a pair of whiskies for them. Kiole finally looked over and cracked a grin, patting the young man on the back, "Just kiddin', but I had you going there for a second."

The young man laughed, releasing the nervous tension that had been building up since he set foot in this den of thieves.

"You're Jon Devalor, from the Ganymede Rockets, right?" Kiole asked, handing him a glass when their drinks came.

"Yup, that's me," the young man admitted before gulping down the shot of booze.

"I thought it was you!" Kiole said excitedly, "Man, you were one of the best that ever played the game!" Aside from cigarettes and alcohol, watching a game of grav-ball was one of the few vices that Kiole readily admitted to. He had memorized statistics and scores ever since he was a young boy on Aldeman Three.

"Yeah," Jon said, staring down at the bar counter, obviously not sharing Kiole's enthusiasm. "I threw for five thousand yards my last season, had two hundred an' eighty seven goals."

"What happened, if you don't mind my asking? You just kind of disappeared..."

"I got injured playing an exhibition game at the Huevell Cup. It was during the zero-G round," he explained, "I had just thrown this beautiful spiral from about a hundred an' fifty yards out, I mean this thing was goin' dead-on into the goal, man. Anyways, this Huevellan on the Commonwealth team managed ta kinda whip the ball with his tail. The ball went slammin' int'a randomizer, an' all of a sudden, the field is pullin' at five G's, and I come crashin' down on my right arm. Shot my arm bone clear out through my chest."

"Ouch," Kiole winced at merely the thought of such an injury.

"You're telling' me," Jon agreed. "I done passed out from the pain. When I woke-up, they had fixed up my arm pretty decent, but it weren't in throwin' shape no more. And since the League don't allow bionic replacements, my career was over," he finished, motioning to the bartender for another round of drinks.

"Damn," Kiole said sympathetically, "What about a cloned replacement limb?"

"Docs said it wouldn't take hold. Said it was some kinda 'aberration in my genetic structure'," he said as he puffed up in imitation of a high-and-mighty doctor. "Guess 'cause my gran-daddy was a mutant," he added. The bartender placed a fresh shot of whiskey in front of him, and he swallowed it down immediately.

"So how'd you find your way to a dive like this?" Kiole asked and gulped down his own drink.

"Well, the only two things I ever did know how ta do were playin' grav-ball, and shootin' the prairie condors on my daddy's ranch. I heard that some other retired players was able ta find work as hired muscle, mercenaries, bounty hunters and such, so I decided I'd give it a try."

"Any luck?"

"Welp, as a matter a fact, I did get myself hired-up by this pretty-little Alakán gal last night. She had a thing for ball players, if ya know what I mean," he added nudging Kiole with his elbow. "But she said she needed some more guns, so I came out ta this side a town an' help her find some. Say, bud... you ain't lookin' for a job are ya?" he asked as the idea suddenly occurred to him.

"Yeah, I am, now that you mention it," Kiole said as he scratched his scraggly beard.

"Well, hell then, man!" Jon slapped his hand on the bar counter excitedly, "Come on an' sign-up with me! Hell, helpin' ya get a job is the least I can do for ya savin' my hide like that. A tough-guy like you is just what we need. Ya can help me keep my ass from gettin' vaped. Job pays pretty good too, but uh..." he lowered his voice and added conspiratorially, "Just so we's agreed, I'm the only one at be gettin' 'fringe' benefits from our employer."

"Not a problem," Kiole grinned, and offered Jon his hand.

"That's great!" Jon exclaimed as he shook Kiole's hand heartily, "By the way, I never did get yer name, partner..."

"Kiole... Kiole Enkal."

"Pleased ta meet ya!" Jon was all smiles now. "But the final decision ain't up ta me, ya understand. We gotta go meet my gal's boss on Dunar in a couple a days ta get the final OK."

"Not a problem," Kiole nodded. "Do you know where and when, exactly, on Dunar?"

"Not yet. I'm gonna be ridin' over there in'er shuttle when they head back, you're welcome to come along if ya ain't got yer own ship."

"That'll work. Let me give you my comm ID. You can buzz me an hour before you're ready to leave, and I'll be able to get to the starport."

Kiole and Jon stayed at the Pony for a few more hours, to see if any more suitable looking mercenaries showed up. Jon explained what few details of their assignment that he knew. Kiole was surprised to find it was more than a simple bodyguard assignment, which is what he had initially assumed by the fact that their employer was willing to hire someone as inexperienced as Jon. After a few drinks, Jon loosened up considerably, and began regaling Kiole with tales of his glory days in the grav-ball league. Though he was a grav-ball fan, he only half-listened to Jon's stories, as plans began to form in his mind on the possible types of targets, and methods that they could use to pull off their assignments.

Not seeing any likely accomplices enter the pub, Kiole and Jon decided to call it a night after a few hours. Kiole wanted to get back to his hotel and check the news boards on the net to dig up some information about current events in the sector.

As they exited the pub, heading for the maglev station, Kiole noticed an Eechena wearing the same factory coveralls that they had seen on the one that had tried to knife Jon earlier. Kiole didn't think that he recognized the Eechena from the group they had seen before in the pub, but he was just hanging around suspiciously in front of another pub a few blocks down the empty street. The Eechena reached up and scratched his hairy chin.

"Get ready to move, kid," Kiole said quietly to Jon.

"Huh?"

Kiole didn't respond, his eyes were searching the buildings along the street, though he continued to walk casually. Then he spotted a set of hairy finger-tips wrapped around the corner of a building. The rest of the being was presumably in the alleyway behind the corner.

Kiole shoved Jon to the ground as a laser bolt sizzled between them, shouting "Find some cover!" Heading his own advice, he flattened himself behind a jutting feaux buttress on the façade of a nearby building. He drew the blaster from his right holster and took a quick look over to see how Jon was faring. Jon had managed to scramble into a small alley on the opposite side of the narrow street.

Two more laser bolts, each firing from a different angle sizzled past and impacted on the side of the building a few yards away from Kiole. "Great his itchy friend must have joined in," Kiole mumbled to himself. Wishing he had brought the carbine he had pilfered back on Chrilon 5C with him from his hotel, Kiole instead pulled his other blaster. "Hey, kid, you know how to use one of these?" he shouted over to Jon.

"Hell yeah! Send'er over," he yelled back and held his hands open, waiting to catch the weapon.

Kiole flicked the safety on, on the blaster he was going to pass to Jon, and then leaned around the façade of the building and fired several shots of covering fire as he lobbed the pistol across the narrow street.

Jon caught the blaster easily, and flicked the safety back off. "Nice throw, bud! Hell, coulda used ya on our team when we played the Faenir for the Hegemonic Championship!" he joked. He held the blaster around the corner of the alley and fired a few blind shots down the street.

Kiole was going to shout back a smart-alec reply, but another few laser blasts sizzled into the building on the other side of the buttress he was hiding behind. "Fuck! Their aim's getting better," he said to himself before leaning out and sending some return fire their way. "And I don't want to wait around for GalPol to show up either..." he mumbled. More laser blasts hit the small buttress he hid behind, blowing out chips of concrete. Jon fired a few more blind shots from across the street.

"Gimme some covering fire, kid!" Kiole shouted, "I'm comin' across to you! Just keep pullin' the trigger 'till it runs outta juice!"

"Gotcha!" Jon shouted back, and began sending a rapid succession of blaster bolts down the street. Kiole broke from his perch along the wall, darted across the narrow street, and dove into the alleyway behind Jon.

He picked himself up quickly, and flattened himself against the wall. Leaning over Jon, who was kneeling, he fired a few random shots, then ducked back behind the corner. "How're you fixed on juice, kid?"

"Looks like I'm out," he said having pointed the weapon around the corner, pulled the trigger, and have nothing happen. More laser blasts came their way, hitting the side of the building in front of the alley.

"Here, reload," Kiole said and passed Jon a replacement energy clip he had pulled from inside his coat. He looked down the alleyway, trying to figure out their next move. Then he saw it. He handed Jon his other blaster, "Here, keep 'em busy. Try and make 'em think there are two of us, but keep your shots pointed low. Can you handle that?"

"Sure thing, but where're ya goin'?"

"I'm gonna put an end to this," he stated flatly. He reached inside his coat and pulled out two more energy clips. "Here's some more ammo. GalPol is probably on their way, so if they get here before I get back, just lay down your weapons, and tell them the truth. It was self-defense, so you should be alright."

"OK," Jon replied. The uneasiness was evident in his voice, but he did as Kiole instructed, and began firing some shots down the street, keeping his aim low. In between salvos, he glanced back to see what Kiole was doing.

Kiole ran a short way down the alley to a dumpster. He activated the anti-grav field on the bottom of the container and pushed it a few more yards down the alley. He turned the field back off to keep the dumpster stationary, and then scrambled on top of it, to where he could easily reach a fire escape.

"Now why didn't I think of that?" Jon mumbled when he realized what Kiole was up to.

Kiole climbed up the fire escape quickly and onto the flat-top roof of the building. He crouched down and moved up to the edge of the roof. From his vantage point, three stories up, he could easily see where the two Eechena were. There was one on either side of the street, each taking cover in their own alleyway. The one that had accosted Jon in the pub was on the far side of the street from Kiole. The one who had been out on the street, waiting to signal their approach, was leaning out from an alley two buildings up from, and on the same side of the street as Kiole.

He moved back from the edge of the roof, staying low. Jon was doing a good job of keeping them distracted, but Kiole didn't want to risk their seeing him. He crept over to the next rooftop and carefully eased himself over the lip that separated the two buildings. The next building was only two stories tall, so he had to crawl over the edge, and drop down to the next rooftop, careful not to make too much noise.

He crawled on his belly to the edge of the last building. He pulled a combat knife from where he kept it concealed in his right boot. Positioning himself towards the back of the Eechena below him, Kiole rolled over the side of the building, and pounced on his unwitting prey. The Eechena had no time to react as Kiole drove his knife into his upper back, penetrating the Eechena's lungs and silencing him.

He pulled the corpse back from the edge of the alleyway, and picked up the laser pistol the Eechena had been firing. Kiole had hoped that the other one hadn't noticed his attack, but he began shouting something in Eechenan.

Probably wondering why his buddy stopped shooting, Kiole guessed at the gibberish he was hearing.

Fortunately the alley that the second Eechena was in was back towards Jon from where Kiole was, so he would likely have his back to Kiole. Kiole flattened himself against the building and side-stepped to the corner. He waited for Jon to fire a salvo before taking a quick glance around the corner, so that he wouldn't accidentally get hit. He spotted the Eechena and made a mental note of his angle towards him. He pulled his head back around the corner and waited for the next salvo from Jon as he held the laser pistol at the ready.

Jon's blind shots impacted out in the middle of the street, and Kiole spun around the corner. He squeezed the trigger rapidly, sending a hail of laser bolts into the Eechena's back. He spun back around the corner to avoid Jon's next salvo.

"It's over, kid!" Kiole shouted, "You can stop shooting now!"

"Hot damn!" Jon shouted back, followed by an excited hoot.

Kiole waited for Jon to run up to his position. "Come on, Jon, let's get outta here before GalPol shows up."

"If ya say so... But like ya said, we ain't done nothin' wrong. It was self-defense."

"Yeah, but if you wanna be in this business, kid, it's best to avoid law enforcement whenever possible. Even when you haven't done anything wrong. Besides, I may not have the death sentence anywhere, but I do have a few warrants on me."

"Oh..." As they started off down the street, Jon noticed Kiole's handiwork, "Dang, you shot him in the back?!"

"Yup," Kiole replied as they ran around a corner and down another street, heading for the maglev station. He handed the laser pistol to Jon and took back his OM-65's, holstering them. "Next thing to know about this business is that the easiest way to shoot someone without them shooting you, is to shoot 'em in the back," he explained. "It ain't like the cinema or web cast dramas," he added.

They made it to the maglev station and hopped on a car just as the doors closed and the train pulled out. "Whew..." Kiole gasped and collapsed into one of the seats. The car was empty, save for the two of them. "Viper... was right..." he panted, "I do... need to... quit smoking."

"Wooooo!" Jon hollered, "Man an' I thought playin' ball was a rush! Dang, my blood is pumpin' so fast I'm shakin'!" he said and held up his twittering hand.

"You did alright, kid," Kiole commended him as he leaned his head against the plastiglass window at his back. Behind him, the lights on the low-lying buildings of the industrial sector stretched out into the distance. The ones close to the tram sped by in a seamless blur, as the maglev arced around the starport. "But we need to work on you not being so gun-shy. Those guys were amateurs, so your blind shooting kept their heads down. Pros would have been able to see you weren't looking where you were shooting, and would've rushed you."

"Yeah," Jon admitted with a bit of disheartenment. He hung his head, and stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. "I s'pose yer right. I fig're I'm better with a rifle. I use'ta bulls-eye them condors on my daddy's ranch like nobody's business, an' they wouldn't even see it comin'," he added. He turned his head and looked out the rear window of the car, watching the lights spread out behind them.

"That's a good skill to have, Jon, but we may not always have the luxury of catching the other guys by surprise. They may catch us like tonight. We'll work on it though. Key thing is, I know I can count on you in a fight. As long as you have it in you not to cut and run, I can teach you anything else."

"You can count on it, man!" Jon said with renewed enthusiasm at Kiole's compliment. "An' I tell you what, man, I'm a quick learner, too.

Kiole merely smiled and stood up, as the maglev pulled into the station on the north eastern side of the starport. "Well, this is my stop. You still got my comm ID, right?"

Jon rummaged through his pockets and pulled out the crumpled up napkin Kiole had given him earlier. "Yeah, buddy."

"Alright then, buzz me whenever you and that girl of yours are ready to head to Dunar," Kiole waved as he stepped off the car.

"I will, partner! Hey it was good to meet you, Kiole!" he added.

"You too, kid."