Private Backwater Intrigues

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche might have regained some of her composure but she had to restrain the urge to gulp at the forced patience in Aver's voice. There was enough of an implication there that she could either give up what she knew voluntarily or have it beaten out of her. She took the proffered cigarette to buy herself some time to think, taking comfort from it. Trying to ignore the fact she was at the mercy of a warrior who looked like she could break her in two without breaking a sweat.

"And if I were to let you in on something that may or not be happening...what exactly are you bringing to the table?" She was in no position to bargain but she was going to try.

 

[Aver Brand]

“Your life,” Aver said in her most pleasant tone, revealing a bright smile to match as she took off her helmet. Just two redhead criminals sitting in a tree, S M O K I N G.

The merc snorted smoke out her nose and leaned back against a nearby trunk. If there was one thing you could count on in the jungle, it was that some kind of obstacle was never far away.

“Jokes aside,” she ashed her cigarette and slid her electric gaze to the woman opposite, “I’m not lone wolfing it down here. My employers value competence and good information, and I believe you have both. So, credits.” An armored shoulder rose and fell in a lazy shrug, “Or guns, if you’d like. A starship with the serial numbers filed off? They’re pretty flexible in my experience.”

Aver blinked, slow and insouciant like a cat, and watched a blue plume crawl past her sharp teeth as she smiled. “If you cooperate, of course.”

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche smiled back a little uncertain at the now unhelmeted figure. There was something craggy and feral about Aver, she couldn't quite put her finger on it. The light of the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Aithche liked to think of herself as a fox. Sly, quick witted, able to handle herself when she needed to. Right now she felt like she was confronted with a tigress.

"Credits sound good" she allowed, taking another drag. "Employers though...I like to know who I'm getting in bed with" before they fuck me. "And what you're going to be looking for in return".

Her head dropped for a moment, mulling her options. There was that feral smile on Aver again. If she cooperated. Meaning she was going to be unhappy if she didn't. "I'm cooperating, aren't I?"

 

[Aver Brand]

“Nadir,” the mercenary replied with a puff of smoke, her smile a persistent fixture despite the undercurrent of hostility in the conversation. The essence of negotiation in the middle of the jungle. What a life.

“Who holds your leash, then?” Couldn’t be anyone too powerful, because Allison Kerr stank of desperation. Unless it was a very carefully applied perfume, of course. Couldn’t trust a spy as far as you could throw them.

Although Aver could probably throw her quite far.

 

[Aithche Wierz]

A criminal, brilliant. Well Aithche had done similar crimes but it was legal when you did it for your government. Her teeth grated at the choice of words Aver used. "I'm my own woman" she said haughtily, tilting her chin up a little in response. She wasn't going to cower the entire time through this.

"I have investors, I have contributors, but I'm a free agent these days" a trace of smugness to her voice, she wasn't just an employee like the woman opposite her. "And if I choose to walk away from this then that's no issue to me". A pure lie, she'd far too much invested in it to go back and start again from square one.

 

[Aver Brand]

These days, she said. Aver twitched an eyebrow, but let the comment slide. There would be time for digging yet. Environmentally conscious as ever, the merc carefully stamped out her cigarette and stuffed it back into a belt pocket. Humidity or not, wildfires had the annoying tendency to spring up when you least needed or expected them.

“That’s nice to hear.” She leaned forward into her personal space. “The intel you have would be even nicer, though. If it helps, imagine I’m a new… investor of yours, hmm?”

“Now tell me, Allison,” Aver ran one calloused finger along her jaw and tipped her head up to meet those green eyes. What a wonderful, defiant spark. “What’s a free agent looking to gain in this clusterfuck?”

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche fought a twitch and the urge to scoot backwards as Aver leaned forward uncomfortably close. It was bad enough the other woman seemed to loom over her but she was getting far too close for comfort. She was getting it spelt out for her that she and her intel weren't necessarily the same thing.

She nearly jumped when her chin was touched. A rough finger ran along her jaw and strangely she didn't slap it away. Wide eyes met Aver's and she swallowed a lump in her throat, suddenly a bit tongue tied. "An investor" she repeated "My-my business is my own" she was disgusted at the stumble over her words "I'll get credits, a mining concession, anyone would do it!"

 

[Aver Brand]

She leaned back with a snort, releasing her hold on that fine jaw. “So defensive. Set up a labor exploitation scheme for all I care. I’m not going to judge you, Allison.” Her mouth broadened into a sharp grin, pearly fangs winking behind red lips. “I just want to know how you planned to pull it off. With a bit of… adjusting, I’m sure we can both get what we want. Maybe even something extra.”

Aver spread her arms in a gesture of magnanimity, “Cooperation breeds wonders, I find. You get your mining rights, we could maybe even take care of the shipping for you. I’d have to ask, but we got the resources for it.”

In the past, she used to be all stick, but time had taught her that a bit of carrot would often do the trick.

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aver had the temerity to sound amused at Aithche's response. She found her confidence being rocked a little by the sight of her fangs when she flashed a smile at her. She was only reassured by the fact that she hadn't tried to pull any of her limbs off yet. She took a deep breath and dropped her head again.

"Thank you for treating my wound" she said, the numbing effects of the kolto had done wonders and even though it felt like the worst hangover ever, she had most of mental and physical faculties back. "But now I want you to get me out of this jungle. Get me to my ship and maybe we can talk there. Right now there's creatures crawling all over my skin that I don't want to think about and I'm worried my freighter is going to be turned into scrap metal".

Plus she knew where she had weapons on the ship though right now a suit of power armour would have seemed inadequate against this lunk.

 

[Aver Brand]

The bark of her laughter was sharp and contained, the echo of the sound swallowed too soon by the greenery. If you weren’t used to it, the isolating effects of the jungle could be downright terrifying.

“That sounded an awful lot like you think I’m an idiot, Allison,” Aver returned with a broad smile and a slow, catlike blink.

“Say you were in my boots. Would you follow a random woman on her ship in the middle of a civil war in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere? A woman you’re starting to think is probably a spy from a failed imperial attempt? An ex-imperial spy that can probably poison, shoot, or strangle you in about twenty different ways?”

A beat.

“Give or take. I actually have no idea what they teach y’all these days.”

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche was starting to feel a bit like a disgruntled child with Aver's constant smirks or bursts of laughter, she seemed amused by any attempt at subterfuge. "Well when you put it that way" she grumbled but she couldn't help but feel the mercenary was being a tonsy bit dramatic. Her eyes rolled, "Strangle, really? I doubt I could even fit my hands around your neck" slight exaggeration though Aver looked capable of snapping even garotte wire. Fancy knifework and other stuff was all well and good but if you missed with your neat little cut and she's six foot plus and you're 5'7 then you're not going to have a fun time when she asks you not to.

"Why don't we go to your ship then? Anywhere I'm not-" her hand lashed out and crushed a particularly large fly on her thigh "-being bloody well eaten alive and sweating out kilos".

 

[Aver Brand]

“I doubt I could even fit my hands around your neck.”

Aver leaned forward with a beatific smile. “Wouldn’t it be fun if you tried, though. I’ll take you to my ship and you can give it a shot if you like.”

With a laugh, the merc swung off the fallen tree and sealed her helmet back on. “If you sing a pretty song on the way back I’ll even let you use the fresher.”

It was easy enough to smirk and smug at a woman in a shawl when your armor had temp control. Then again, it was easy enough to smirk and smug when you were Aver Brand, so that hardly changed things. She tilted her head and gestured to the faint trail they’d worn through the jungle thicket.

“Ladies first.”

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche's smile was more like baring teeth. Aver seemed to be constantly amused by any display of defiance or insubordination. Her counteroffer wasn't ideal but she wasn't getting many others right now. She just hoped Aver didn't turn out to be a slaver and she was about to end up at some offworld market.

"Fine, your ship then" she said. The mercenary rose again and the spy copied her. She bit back a choice response and started limping up the trail, Aver not far behind. At least the sounds of fighting had died down for now.

"Am I to assume your ship is at the spaceport?" she asked, risking a look back at her helmeted protector.

 

[Aver Brand]

“That would make the most sense, wouldn’t it?”

The grin bled freely into her voice, muffled though it was by the rebreather of the helmet. No other reply was forthcoming from the armored juggernaut as they made their way back into the city. Well, what remained of it, anyway – the dirty bomb had opened up the thoroughfare like a shaped charge on a door. In their absence, the fighting had spread out in waves from the initial epicenter, spilling into the side streets, the culs-de-sac, the skidrows, and all the other deathtraps that came complimentary with any good urban warfare package.

Finally, the bulwark of the spaceport rose beyond the uneven skyline of the shanty town. Every few minutes another ship took off in the distance, disturbing the soupy air moments after the roar of its engines faded into the staccato of gunshots. The scene was familiar as anything – the last fortified outpost held by any security worth their salt. Evacuating VIPs and civilian hangers-on until there was nothing left to save; until the walls gave out and the tide of hunger and fury swept and snuffed out any semblance of order.

Judging by the loud jeering outside the barricaded spaceport gate, Aver gave it about twenty minutes before they witnessed another reenactment of that particular scene.

“Option one, we wait for them to kick down the door and run for the ship,” the mercenary outlined, eyes shifting from the mob to the barbed-wire walls. “Option two, I give us a little push, we go across, then run for it.”

There was that shit-eating grin again. “How’s your cardio?”

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche had been in enough warzones to know there were times for witty responses and that was not now. She bit her tongue and followed her protector through the deceptively quiet aftermath. Fighting was still happening but Aver seemed to have an instinct for guiding her through the calmest parts with sounds of combat a block or more away.

Most were smart enough to keep their heads down and the only group of opportunists that dared to look their direction quickly skedaddled when they saw the armoured figure escorting her. There were easier pickings to be had than risking life or limb.

The brief break was welcomed, she could catch her breath while the mercenary studied their next move. Aithche didn't bother wasting effort to recce the scene herself, she was trying to make herself less of a liability and she knew Aver wouldn't have dragged her this far just to ditch her. She wanted what was in her head.

She gulped as she listened to the options. Aver's doctoring had been rough and ready, there'd been no finesse about it. She just didn't want Aithche bleeding out or collapsing on her. She was going to need a proper look at when (if, a snide voice interrupted) they reached safety. The run would have been no bother even six or seven years ago. Aithche in her prime would have crossed the distance in armour and a full combat load without even thinking about it. Now she was dizzy from blood loss and still reeling from the concussion. And only had one good leg.

"Option two" she said quietly, trying to wet her lips. Her mouth had gone dry and she could feel the tell tale signs of fear sinking in. "I-I can make the run but I'm not sure how fast I'll be" or if I'll fall.

 

[Aver Brand]

Listening to the chorus of an angry mob over the staccato of gunfire brought back memories. Made her tingle, limbs loose as warmth pooled low in her belly. She cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders as she sized up the ferrocrete wall casting a long shadow over the pair of them.

Pity she hadn’t thought to bring some stronger explosives. Or her anti-materiel disruptor cannon. Well, no use crying over spent ammo.

“Make like a monkey and hop on.” Aver gestured to her armored back as she turned to the wounded spy. “Unless you reckon you can survive the landing if I throw you over.”

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche blinked.

She opened her mouth to say something and then shut it again. She shook her head as Aver gave her the option of being flung over. Normally she'd have sneered at it but the woman had already proven to have frightening strength. She rose awkwardly and clambered onto Aver's broad back, her arms linking around her neck.

 

[Aver Brand]

She exhaled into the humid air as the new weight settled on her hips and shoulders. It occurred to her that Allison could attempt and use the position to strangle her, but she dismissed the thought immediately. The spy wasn’t stupid enough to try. Not in the current situation, anyway.

Aver tensed and relaxed her muscles as she measured out the steps of her approach with a long stride. Focus furrowed her brow as she uncoiled herself through the ebb of the Force, swift and serpentine. The fighting around them had agitated its staid flow into severe whorls that Aver knew to harness all too well.

A fierce smile twisted her mouth.

She took a running start, dug her boots into the dirt, and vaulted over the bulwark. Her stomach dropped out – the heady rush of defying gravity – and then caught up to her just as she crested the wall.

The ground cracked as she slammed back into the earth, throwing up dust and bits of ferrocrete. The landing sent vibrations through bone and muscle and cybernetics, but it hardly put a dent in her momentum. Detritus clung to her armor as Aver took off at full tilt for her ship, grinning even as screams and bullets began to ricochet through the spaceport.

 

[Aithche Wierz]

Aithche was not at all prepared for what happened next.

Aver went from a walk to a sprint in three paces. She jumped and went up and up and up. Aithche would have screamed if there'd been time to process it. She clung on for dear life, animal reflex saving her where her brain failed her. Her stomach twisted as they came back down, well over a hundred and fifty kilos combined of flesh, metal, and cybernetics. Aver hit the ground hard enough to crack ferrocrete.

Biting back vomit and screwing her eyes shut, Aithche just clung with feral strength as the mercenary accelerated towards her ship. Most onlookers were too shocked to get a shot off in time, others were more concerned with the threats facing their front than one hulking armoured figure. It was a bone shaking, stomach clenching ride but it was better than the alternative. She risked a peek as she felt the running slow from all out to sprint to kilometre eating canter,

"That's your ship?" even Aithche found it hard to keep surprise out of her voice.

 

[Aver Brand]

“Yes.”

One of them, anyway. Probably something Kuati. She cycled through too many each year to remember every make and model. The unassuming shape didn’t matter nearly so much as the tech crammed inside.

Like biometrics. Amazing in situations like these. Imagine getting shot while fishing for the keys in your pockets. What a way to go.

The merc shoved inside as the door slid open and punched the lock closed behind them. The sounds of the panicking security outside became muffled, as if they’d gone underwater. The faint plink and hiss of slugs and bolts hitting the hull was music to her ears; a familiar tune of useless small-arms fire.

“Off.”

As soon as the spy was back on her feet, Aver lifted her helmet and took a grateful gulp of cool air. Thank fuck for AC. She marched past the redhead and disappeared into the cockpit, only to lean back through the doorway a moment later.

“Medbay’s to the left. Just use the droid.” With that, the door to the cockpit sealed shut, and the ship’s engines roared to life a moment later.