Mercenary: The Sword of Damocles Story by Lone Wolf Studios Prelude: My name is Crash. No, I will not tell you my real name. If people knew my real name, the houses I've royally pissed off would be after me faster than a swarm of angry hornets. I command the Mercenary Unit Jade Wolf, currently riding the solar waves in the Flagship Cirsta. Yes, I know, not really a good name for a ship that's carrying around a bunch of maniac, gun toting guns for hire. It was either that or buy a space dingy known as the ASU Dingy. Yes, that's right. The unit is a bunch of maniacs. We'll openly admit to it. We are insane - on the battle field. There's a big difference between crazy on the battle field and crazy in civilization. Crazy on the battle field helps you to live. Crazy in civilization gets you killed in society. It's amazing that such a large ship as the Cirsta is still up in the air, seeing as how its crew totals nine people. That's right. Nine. This Heretic class cruiser of ours is run a rag tag group including myself, my second in command, my little brother, the unit's pilot, our two medics, our two mechanics, and our arms negotiator/archeology expert. It's amazing the ship has not self-imploded yet. But then again, we are thankful. Chapter 1: Rhea Stay-a Location: Space Station Rhea (pronounced rae-ya) Time: Fourth month, seventh day. As I said before, we are a band of mercenaries. With the fallout of the guild and the catastrophes at the merc research facilities, many of the units were forced to fend for themselves. We were no different. Our original unit size was about thirty-four. We lost nearly the entire unit in the atrocities that followed the genetic research facility explosion. We were lucky enough to commandeer one of the few remaining escape cruisers and were forced to leave our equipment on planet. We lost a great deal of mobile armor, including two of the most valuable mechs in the universe. Nevertheless, we did manage to escape. For the last three years, we've been floating out in Cirsta (pronounced Sir-sta), slowly rebuilding our resources and armory and working two bit missions for the houses. I still wish to know what happened to my Bulldog and Dark Wolf mechs. Those were my babies. The Heretic class cruisers may be small, but they could support carrying at least 5 mechs, including my Bulldog. But life goes on. We were taking a break at the Space Station Rhea. Our Heretic class felt out of place surrounded by all the Takashi and Ryoken class battle cruisers that were lurking about. We were, after all, just within the borders of House Lupus' territory. It WAS going to be heavily protected. "Identification please," the customs guard asked me. I rolled my eyes and slowly handed him my little identity tag. "Sorry about this Crash. Regulation demands it, especially out here at the fringe." "I know," I responded. "Just wish it weren't so fugging annoying." He returned my card and I stepped through the checkpoint. That was my only annoying flaw. I would curse in g-rated words when I was ticked off. I had good reason to be. Lupus required at least three forms of identification throughout your stay on any of their stations or establishments. "Cheer up, chief," Mohammed said. "At least we're not being shot at." Mohammed, or Death as he prefers to be called, is my second in command. A powerful winter wolf does have a distinct advantage in combat. Believe me, you have not seen combat until you've watched Mohammed in action. "Yeah," I said, my own gray tail swaying unhappily. "I should. But I'm not." "Why?" Axen asked. "What's wrong big bro?" Axen is my little brother. We typically call him the Ax man because that's pretty much how he fights - powerfully and to the point. Like me, he is a gray wolf. And also like me, he has fox blood running through his veins. We have our mother to thank for that, and we also have her to thank for our good reflexes. "You guys do remember what happened three years ago, right?" "The fall of the mercenary home planet," a soft voice responded from behind me. "Yeah," a companion voice retorted. "At least it scattered those Disgraced anti-activists to the far corners of the universe." I smirked and turned to face the skunk and panda that were following us. "C'mon girls. It wasn't that bad, was it?" The skunk smiled. "You did protect us, but it was still hell." Those two are Suzie and Amber. Suzie's the skunk. She's our arms negotiator and my "little sister", for all purposes. I watch over her, hurt anyone who tries to hurt her, and lend her a shoulder to cry on or an ear to talk to. Amber, the panda, is one of our mechanics and her lover. Yes, you heard right. Only Amber can be considered a lesbian. Suzie is admittedly bisexual, and often tries to go after me. We fell back into the "gay/lesbian" frame of mind when the home planet fell out. The home planet was headquarters to a large hate group who had labeled homosexuals as Disgraced. We still haven't figured out what happened to them when the planet collapsed in on itself. "Yeah," Amber added. "Luckily, we survived. Now we get to laugh at them." "Indeed," Byrder chuckled. "I'd hate to see you two get your hands on one of them." Byrder is our pilot. Suits the job well, as a matter of fact. Most avens in arms took the controls of planes. Our falcon here was one of the best merc pilots alive. Now, it seemed, he was the ONLY merc pilot alive. But he was a pilot without a plane. We escaped before he could get his planes to safety. "Calm down guys," I said. "We're only here to pick up Stephanie and Roxanne and maybe spend a few days in relaxation. No problems starting tomorrow." "Why starting tomorrow?" "Because I've still got to go pay my respects. Hell usually happens when I pay my respects. Remember what happened on the ASU Exitprise last year?" Mohammed chuckled. "I'm still cleaning the blood out of my fur." "Yeah," Suzie said. "It was bad." She smiled and came to my side. "I'll join you, okay?" She took my arm and gave it a hug. "Go ahead," Amber said. "Harris and I still have to do some repairs on the Cirsta. We'll be at the rooms when we're done." "All right," I said, turning to Mohammed, Axen, and Byrder. "You two gonna be okay?" "As soon as we find a bar," Axen responded with a grin. I frowned. "What have I told you about that, Axen?" "I know. I'll be good." "Good. Come Suzie." Mercenaries are typically theists. There is a god for us, but we don't believe in religion. The rules that are imposed upon us by such are typically not merc-like. We cannot be restricted by the values of most religions. I, on the other hand, find it quite soothing. I am a follower of the Guardians. It's one of those religions that mercs could deal with if they weren't all one minded. Their temples tend to be small. Nothing major like the Chorus of Light. It's just simple. The only thing they have that's worth noting is the statue that each holds. The statue is of a giant winged being of no sex or species. It stands there proudly, it's wings spread, and a sword held in front of it, blade to the ground. They aren't that hard to find, either. If you have your holy symbol with you - mine is a small sword "protected" by tiny gold wings - all you need to do is follow your heart. It's always worked for me. "Here we are, Suzie," I said. She smiled. "I like what they've done with the place," she responded. Suzie was a follower too. "Looks cleaner since the riots." I chuckled. "That's why we're followers of the Guardians and why you're an arms dealer. Shall we?" We slowly pushed the doors open and quietly stepped in. As expected, the large, winged statue sat at the other end of the chamber. Only one other person was here, so we decided to go right to the front row to say our thanks and pay our respects. We knelt on the soft cushions there, put our hands on our legs, shut our eyes, and bowed our heads as we said our things. I will never know what Suzie thought up. It is probably best I don't. I thanked the Guardians out in the shadows for watching over me and my unit, as well as those I care deeply for. I thanked them for allowing us to escape the catastrophe. And I also asked for forgiveness for not being able to save the others. Someone put their hands on my shoulders. I finished my thing and looked over my shoulder. I saw a smiling snow wolf there. "Hey Crash," she said. "Hey Stephanie. What's up?" Stephanie is one of the unit medics. She is also my girlfriend. I love her for her personality, her gentleness, and her love of fun. The fact she's also got a shapely body, perfect tits, and soft, soothing fur is an extra bonus. "Not much. I figured I'd find you here." She knelt on the cushion next to me and said a small prayer. "Roxanne's gone to find the others." "Okay. How was your stay here?" She smiled and kissed my cheek. "You were right. They needed our help. They've deposited some extra cash into the unit's account." "Excellent." I gave her a hug and stood. "Shall we go find the others?" "What about Suzie?" I looked at her and gave her a gentle nudge. She broke her prayer and looked up at me. "We're heading to the Pub. You comin'?" She smile and stood. "Of course." The Pub was our favorite watering hole on the mercenary home planet. There, we usually got our non-house missions and relaxed. Luckily, they were one of the first to get out, and set up shop on Space Station Rhea. Now it's our relaxation point and where we get most of our missions. It was only natural to expect to find Mohammed and the others here. We also knew, of course, what to expect with some drunk mercenary warriors out in the populace. "You tell me again," we heard Mohammed say in a drunken voice. "How the Andromedan Yankees are better than the Wolf 357 Mets! There is no way in hell that they're better than the Mets!" I shook my head. Mohammed liked to discuss long extinct arguments when he was drunk. "Mohammed!" I shouted. He looked at me and smiled. "Hey chief! Whassup?" "Where are Axen and Byrder?" "Axen's in the bathroom with Byrder." "Why?" "Byrder needs someone to hold his feathers out of his face as he's throwing up! Damn wuss." Good. At least Axen was sober. "Thanks man." "No problem." He turned back to the person he was conversing with and proceeded to give him a lecture on how the Yankees "sucked major portions of asteroidal ass". "Well 'ello there!" the deer behind the bar said as we approached. "Now 'ere's a face I 'aven't seen in a while!" She put down the glass she was washing and leaned on the bar, showing off her assets to the three of us. "If it ain't the Jade Wolf hisself!!" "Hey Mary," I said. "I see you're doing well." "Of course, hun! What made ya think I wouldn't? Now, what can I get you three love birds?" Suzie blushed. "You know I'm taken by Amber, Mary," she said. "I know that! But you an' Crash make such a cute couple!" Steph laughed. "And what about us?" she asked. "Oh, it was clear as crystal back home that you two were a cute couple. There's no question with that!" "Right," I interrupted. "Three beers, when you're not busy." "Of course, mate!" She pulled out three beers from under the bar and popped them open for us. "'Ere ya go, cute stuff!" "Thanks." "So how did your mission go?" Steph asked me as she took her beer up. "Boring. We got into Leo territory, we got the data and stole some equipment for ourselves, and we got out without firing a single shot." I took my beer and took a sip. "Mohammed got so upset we actually had to go out of our way to find pirates to beat up." Suzie chuckled. "Yes, I remember that. Actually got some decent equipment out of it, including some replacement parts and conductors for our forward pulse cannons." Steph laughed. "Anything else?" "We've got stuff to sell, that's for sure." Mary laughed. "Hey, got any hand guns? They stole my last one and I need something new and preferably illegal." "Of course Mary," I said, pulling a Raider class blaster from my jacket and handing it to her. "We've got more if you need it. And in your case, since you are a fellow homeworlder, you get it for free." "Aw...thanks hun!" She reached over the bar and hugged me. "Drinks are on me tonight, okay?" I laughed. "Of course." We went to our room after that round of beers. Because we were a mercenary group - and because we could actually pay the ridiculous prices - we had rented out one of the nicest group rooms we could find on the station. It was only nice, however, because the beds were clean, we got room service, and that there was a TV. Other than that, it was like any given barracks with bigger bunks. Amber had already returned from working on the Cirsta. She had pushed two of the beds together to form a king sized mattress for her and Suzie and was reading a magazine. Suzie smiled and kissed my cheek. "Thanks for the drinks," she said. "Good night." "Good night Suzie." She smiled and went over to join Amber. "Looks like Harris might be back." "I think so," Steph said, pointing to one of the beds. Laying on it was a fox, dressed in an oil stained red jumpsuit. His orange fur was clean, save for his tail, which wore brown spots where oil inevitably dripped down. He looked exhausted. I chuckled to myself. That was our Harris. He is, arguably, the greatest mechanic in the known universe and parts we don't even know about yet. Every House has tried to get him to work for them. But he sticks with us. Why? "The money's good and there's always something to do." That's his reasoning. I'm not one to argue against it... We moved over to him. "Hey Harris," I said. He looked up at me. "Hey Crash," he said with a weak smile. "What's up?" "Apparently you are. How did repairs go?" "Ah not bad." He rolled onto his back. "We managed to replace the blown cuplinks and busted transfuser in the pulse cannons with the parts and also gave some of the forward laser batteries an overhaul with the two new energy crystals we found." "So we're back in full operations?" "More than that. If anyone's coming head on, our laser batteries can make even shorter work of them." "Cool." "Oh yes, I pushed two beds together for you two in the back." "Thanks. Good night." "Night Crash." He rested his head on a pillow and fell out. I laid down in the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of sweat pants. Hey, it was standard sleep wear for me. Besides, if Stephanie decided to wear her silk nightie, I'd want to have my chest exposed. Silk is, after all, my weakness, one I loved for her to take advantage of. I felt her soft hands come to rest on my chest. "Ready for bed, honey?" I chuckled. "Yes," I said. "I always am." I gave her a tender kiss and opened my eyes. She was dressed in a black silk nightgown, clearly oversized for her (but who was I to complain). She had that familiar look in her eyes, the one that brought us together. She was far from innocent, I tell you that now. She could be devious and evil when she wanted to be. But the look she had on was telling me otherwise. She looked like she had gone back to when she was about five years old. I loved it. "I love you, Stephanie." She smiled and nuzzled my cheek a little. Knowing what that meant, I nuzzled right back, a sign of loyalty to her. "Good night." "Good night, my love." There is a lot you learn when being a hired gun. For example, if you get friends, keep them. They are your biggest treasure. I learned that when headquarters exploded. I also learned something else in that explosion. The explosion was a result of research we were hired to do. It was extremely dangerous. As a result, I've lost trust in off-the-record missions. I rarely accept non-house missions. But the fates do like to play... The entire crew had gathered in the Pub. Mohammed was already stone drunk off his ass. Ax was shortly behind him. Harris had work to do on the Cirsta. That left Stephanie, Suzie, Amber, Roxanne, and myself to our business. Oh, that's right, you haven't met Roxanne yet. She's the hot little red fox with her hand in Mohammed's lap. She's our medic and, more importantly, she's the only thing keeping Mohammed from being a mindless drone. Ever since he lost his Slasher mech, she's been the only thing he has left - well, aside from his pride and reputation. That's not enough for him. Anywho, we were chatting merrily when we were approached by Mary. "'ey, chief," she said looking to me. "What's up, Mary?" I asked. Her little tail twitched nervously. "That man over there wishes to speak with you." She pointed to a corner booth where a shady looking figure sat. I could not tell what it was under the old world trench coat and wide rimmed hat. "Well, can't he come over here?" I asked. She shook her head. "He knew you would say that. He says he would rather stay where nobody can see him." I nodded and stood, looking at the girls. "I'll be right back. Make sure they don't start any fights." "Nice to see you Crash," he said as I approached. His voice was distorted, probably because of a voice distorter. "Please, sit. I have a job for you and your men." I slowly took my seat. "There is no need for the voice distorter," I told him. "Take it out." "It is for both our safeties. There are too many ears here. They will snitch." He pulled out an ancient manilla envelope and handed it to me. "Read what I have for you." I nodded and opened the package cautiously. I remember the last time I opened up something that old. I ended up getting blasted in the face by a sleep gas and woke up in a cell in the middle of a desert planet. But that's another story. In this envelope, however, there were merely some old tattered texts, probably from the era of Humans. I took the first one and started to read. It didn't take me long to figure out what it was. "This is the legend of Damocles, isn't it?" "Yes. It is." "So what does this have to do with my unit?" The figure chuckled. "How good are you with old legends?" "Good enough to know that the Damocles you're showing me here was one of the greatest starship captains in the early ages of our people." "Yes. What else?" I quirked a brow. I was quickly adding together two and two. For some reason, I was getting three. "You can't be serious," I said, finally realizing what he was saying. "You want to go after the ship, don't you?" He shook his head. "Which ship are you talking about?" He gave a wave of the hand. "There are ears everywhere," he said in a low voice. "Watch what you say?" You'd probably appreciate it if I told you about Damocles. Adrian Damocles was the best starcaptain we had in the early ages of our space programs. When we first learned to travel between planets, Damocles was one of the first to help establish colonies. He earned his reputation as a kind, helpful soul. That would come back to haunt him when the first House wars broke out. He sided with the precursor to House Lupus, despite his feline heritage. His star cruiser, the Sword of Damocles as it was nicknamed, heralded many victories for the Lupus ancestors. However, it was allegedly lost on a desert planet when the first Leos ambushed the ship. Despite the fact it would be considered only a destroyer class now a days, the Sword is still a valuable ship. It was said that it had a unique weapons and shielding system, one that took three fleets of early star cruisers to take down, and only at the expense of nearly all the ships sent after it. Some wish to find the ship so they can study and, hopefully, improve on it. Others wish to find it to exploit it. Who knows what kind of psychological problems it would cause to see the mighty Sword of Damocles, a ghost of the past, to appear and start wasting ships. I mean, we haven't advanced too much in wartime technology in the time since it was lost. "What do you want with the ship?" I asked lowly, trying not to upset him. "That really is none of your concern," he stated strongly. He noticed the skeptical look on my face and sighed. "My boss wishes to find the ship so he can study it. I am with a research team on Gledius V. To find this ship and study it would be a momentous event in our peoples lives." "I see." I leaned back. "And what does this have to do with my unit?" "We have a feeling we know where the ship crash landed on the desert planet. Unfortunately, it's on Leo turf, and we cannot get to it. Since you are mercenaries, you do not have to worry about treaties and boundaries." I nodded. "That may be true, but I'm not so sure about gallivanting into Leo territory." "Do not worry. The area you will be landing in is in a low security area." Bullshit, I told myself. There is no such thing as a "low security area" in Leo's dictionary. "I'll talk to my boys and see what we want to do." I looked back at them to see Mohammed drunkly falling off his chair. "I hope you don't mind me taking my time." "Of course. Take your time. I will be waiting here for your answer." *several days later* The Cirsta came out of warp over a desert planet. I sat in my captain’s chair, my little version of a House throne, and smiled. “Bring us into orbit, Byrder,” I said. “And since nobody’s looking, go ahead an skip the parallel parking.” He chuckled as he brought the ship into a rough orbit. “There we go.” “Tell me again,” Mohammed said. “Why are we doing this?” “Because if we don’t, someone else will. And I don’t want to run the risk of the Sword falling into the wrong hands.” I looked at him with a wide grin. “Besides, that means, if we get it, we can claim it for our own, and you get a new flying weapons platform.” “New weapons?! Cool!” He leaned back. “The best in the galaxy...well, we think.” “Don’t worry, chief,” Harris said, tapping at his control panel. “Amber and I will look the thing over and see if it’s in any fighting condition.” “Good. But we have to find it first.” I leaned back. “Okay guys, buckle up. We’re gonna land.” Byrder turned to look at me. “What?! Land? The Cirsta?!” “Did I stutter?” “Crash, do you remember the LAST time we tried to land the Cirsta?” “Yes. And we’ve repaid those debts, to the city, the insurance company, AND to the repair shop. Besides, were not landing in a populated area or on a planet that we can run that risk on. We’re landing in a desert. A Leo desert, true, but a desert none the less. So stop panicking. Now, slowly take us onto the surface, like we practiced in the simulators.” “Right.” He tapped at the keys. I watched him from my vantage point. He was doing it just as we practiced. We slowly began our decent down onto the planet’s surface. The first ten minutes, I’m proud to say, went well. We descended at least thirty meters into the atmosphere. And then the controls “GONK!”ed at him. “Byrder,” I said. “Did the controls just go GONK?” “I’ve lost all control over our descent!” I stood up and moved over to him. “What?!” “Watch.” He tapped at the control panels again. The controls razzed us. “See? I cannot control this.” “Harris, what’s the speed that we’re descending?” “Oddly enough,” Harris said. “Slowly.” “Specifically?” “I...I couldn’t tell you. I’ve lost use of my controls.” I moved over to Harris and looked. Right there, in the little digital display that was supposed to be telling us what our speed was in km/h, was the word “SLOW”. I tapped the control panel, since it was similar to my mech. The control panel laughed at me. “Mohammed.” “Weapons are giving me the finger,” he said. “Steph!” “Life support is being...supported,” she responded. “AXEN?!” “The beer’s still cold,” he reassured. “Good.” “We’re at 2000 kilometers and descending,” Harris said. “Still going slo...okay. This is interesting.” I looked over his shoulder. “I didn’t know the speed meter could give us two different readings.” “It can’t.” The “SLOW” in the display had shrunk to half it’s size. Under it was another set of words. “Buckle up.” Oh crap.