Liquid alloy pools around Raenblaid’s wrist, taking the shape of a bracelet under a dark jacket. He pulls the jacket tighter over his dark, skin tight shirt. The night air is cold on his skin at this elevation; the alloy colder. He steadies himself against the rocky mountain wall beside him, and peers down to his right over the edge of the narrow path. Even with his augmented vision, Raenblaid cannot quite make out the bottom of the valley. If he slipped, he would surely die.
Despite growing up in steep mountainside villages, despite hours of training and climbing in mountainous terrain, despite the confidence Raenblaid had instilled in himself these last few years, he cannot silence the evolutionary instinct to avoid danger. He subconsciously leans closer to the mountainside on his left.
The mountains in this region are small, but incredibly steep, rising almost vertical above trees below on the valley floor. Nestled between the high plains to the north and the dry plateaus to the south, the thin bands of the valley stretch a few dozen kilometers in each direction. It is one of the planet Sishi’s most remote regions, yet it is still habitable. And it is only accessible by these narrow mountain walking paths. Raenblaid surmised this is the reason his contact chose this valley as a base of operations. It may be difficult for his contact to escape any trouble, but it would be more difficult for any significant group of enemies to approach as one unit. Raenblaid thought about flying via copter, the only other way into the valley, but not only would it alert the entire valley to his presence, he would also be completely visible on detection equipment across the flat plains to get to the valley. A march on foot it was.
“Raen-blaid” the heavily accented voice of his guide came through the dark air. “You ready to keep move?”
“You can call me Raen for short if that helps,” Raenblaid replied. "Or Blaid"
“Raen good, easy, very good," the guide said.
“I am ready to keep moving.”
Raenblaid hefted his gear bag, and quickly patted his pockets to ensure everything was still stowed away. Handgun, knife, credits, datapad, with water purification tablets, sleeping pod, thermal waterproof blanket, and solar charger in his bag.
And the alloy. Sima
They were on the descent now. Slow, painstaking steps down the path’s staircase, yet descending nonetheless. A few beams of starlight had crested far above Raenblaid’s head, but the valley remained dark. As he would every few minutes, Raen toggled his vision to thermal, and scanned the path both in front and behind him. Nothing. Raen frowned slightly. He would have expected company by now. Guards, scouts, anyone. He was within shooting distance of the huts below at the base of the valley.
The real question is, do I keep scanning? If I see the guards before they see me, I will know what is coming. On the other hand, I need to seem genuinely surprised. Need to pretend they snuck up on me, that they are better tactically than me…
A few more steps, a short staircase built into the rock, a small drop down a boulder.
I would always rather be prepared. I can use this as acting practice for surprise.
Raenblaid toggled thermal back on, and scanned the foliage ahead. This time he saw two blurry figures behind groundbrush 40 meters ahead.
Only two? They either really think I’m not a threat… or there is more at play here. Perhaps my contact wishes not to offend, and will only bring more guards out if I seem capable. Better to act inept instead. But not too inept… he can’t think he can take advantage of me…
Raen lowered his head, focusing on his feet, on each step. Not knowing when exactly the guards will step out will return at least a little bit of genuine surprise to his act.
“Raenblaid,” a deep, guttural voice purred. The voice held only a slight trace of an accent. “Welcome, you have traveled far to get here.”
Raenblaid bowed his head slightly, as was the custom on this planet. His bag, gun, knife, and datapad had been confiscated for the time being. He had his sima, so he didn’t really need the knife, but it would have seemed odd for a traveler not to be carrying a knife in these parts.
The deep voice continued. “I hope you do not mind, I must insist you remove your jacket and subject to one last search.”
“That is quite alright. It is much warmer in here than outside, I do not wish to wear my jacket any longer,” Raen replied. As he removed his jacket, the alloy melted out of bracelet form, and moved further up his arm, controlled by tiny electrical signals sent from the dural network in Raen’s body. He sent the alloy beneath his long shirt sleeve, flattening it out along his arm as it went. The guards would not be able to feel it during a patdown.
The guards took Raenblaid’s jacket, and once satisfied that nothing was on his person besides his datapad and a few credit chips, they stepped back out of view, into the shadows. And out of the shadows stepped a smiling Wen Dun. The contact.
“How many I be of service?” Wen Dun smiled, his teeth a wicked shade of yellow.
Any tyrant knows how to control the population with fear. Tyrants are short lived. Any dictator knows how to control the opposition populace with fear, and control those that follow with rewards. Dictators might get through most of their life unscathed. But what makes a totalitarian authority outlive the tyrants and dictators is a third aspect of rule. They must control with fear, secure obedience through rewards, while making the population think there is no better alternative.
Such was the situation on Sishi. Mostly low class impoverished, hard lives, with no access to wealth or information to know they were outliers in The Sovereignty. A large middle class who followed the status quo because they either believed there was no alternative, or because they voluntarily bought into the propaganda. And with any authoritarian regime, a small upper ruling class who held all of the power and wealth, except what they purposefully let slip through their fingers to keep the middle class satisfied and tame. Anyone who disagreed with their rulers had either left the planet, or was arrested and ‘re-educated’.
Raenblaid believed the situation to be hopeless. The poor are so concerned with where their next meal is coming from, they have no ability to change their fates. Only complete systematic societal overhaul would help them. The middle class is the best chance at change, but they have proven themselves maddeningly stubborn. No one wants to believe that their entire framework for life and society is wrong, so they cling to the propaganda that assures them that the society is what is best. And even if they don’t fully believe that, they believe the propaganda telling them to distrust foreigners; that other governments want to tear Sishi down, that foreigners will try to sow distrust in the system. So what is the middle class to do? They aren’t going to risk their lives and the lives of their families based on potential lies from foreigners they do not know. Especially not when the alternative is to maintain the status quo, a status quo that provides a measure of safety and prosperity. So that leaves the ruling class, and they obviously aren’t going to give up power. If a human is raised and taught that certain groups of people are beneath them, that those lower groups are less than human, that they deserve to be treated like animals, it doesn’t take long for that person to lose all sense of humanity. He will fight tooth and nail to ensure the dogs of society do not attempt to rise to be human. Hopeless.
But Raenblaid was not sent to Sishi to solve all of the planet’s problems, and for once he was grateful. He knew this problem required much more than his abilities to solve. His abilities were much more… tangible. Useful for less lofty missions, such as the current mission: securing a way to get gear and weapons on Sishi through black market channels. This is why he needed Wen Dun's network. Raen pondered all of this as he walked back up the mountain paths, his mission complete. He had signed the contract with Wen Dun last night. It was nearly dawn.
Tangible, was that the right word? Just because I solve most of my problems in the here and now doesn't mean I can't solve more future oriented or complex issues… Wait, where are the footsteps of my guide?
Raenblaid didn't have time to internalize the fact he zoned out at a time he should have been alert. He didn't have time to recognize his mistakes and strategize a path forward. He only had time to lurch towards the rocks to his right before death called his name.
A bullet aimed for Raen's head kicked rocks off of the steep ledge to the valley below. Two more bullets hit the rock wall he was moving to take cover under, spraying his face with gravel. It stung. Raen was too late to the wall. A fourth bullet tore into his left shoulder. Another grazed his thigh.
Raenblaid breathed sharply inward, eyesight white with the searing pain, as he hit the rock wall beside him. He reached up with his right hand and felt for an exit wound. There was none. The bullet stopped penetrating less than halfway through his shoulder muscle.
Cheap and low powered. Thank the Gods.
Mentally recovered now, Raenblaid quickly reconned the situation. It had been only 2 pulsars, maybe 3, since he had been shot. No gunfire heard since then, so his attackers are either closing in or waiting in a sniper position… Neither ideal for a gunfight, but he unholstered his handgun anyway. His left arm movement felt decent, no need to worry about the bullet wound. His blood contained the best tier 1 nanobots medicine had created, which were then modified for his specific use. Not only would his blood coagulate much quicker, preventing blood loss, at the first sign of trauma the nanobots began microdosing Raen with stimulants. All of his senses were alert. His mind raced with deductions.
Wen Dun wouldn't attack a business opportunity, if he wanted me dead he would have alerted the Sishi police
Low powered guns meant it isn't the police
My guide disappeared. He probably tipped off some thug to rob me
Poorly aimed shooting, probably untrained muggers
Raenblaid heard footsteps, maybe 20 meters away further up the mountainside. He thought about stepping out of cover to fire, but hesitated. He sent signals down his right arm, and the alloy sima moved up and spread out in a very thin layer across Raen's chest, then hardened. He didn't have enough sima to cover his entire torso, but this will have to do. It will stop one of their bullets.
Raen's strategy was halted when a voice called out. The guide's.
"Hello, Raen, it me, your guide. Please no fight. We, uh… I mean.. they want only money. No fight. Just your credits."
Raenblaid hesitated only a moment. "Okay, I do not want to fight either. How do I know that you won't harm me?"
"Give credits, then you leave. No harm. Please come now. Come out to see you."
Raenblaid didn't believe the guide. Had he not moved quickly, the thugs would already have shot him dead. He glanced around. About 10 meters ahead was a curve in the path. If he could get around it undetected, he could flank the shooters.
"Ok, here you go!" Raen flung his bag as hard as he could to his right, behind him and up the mountainside. He waited a pulse, trying to time his movement with the bag hitting the ground, hopefully hitting a bush or something noisy. He has just started to move when he heard the loud crunch and crumbles of the bag hitting dry leaves and sliding down the mountain gravel a meter or so. He quickly scrambled around the bend, the sound of his last footsteps uncovered by the bag distraction. A trained soldier would have noticed. Raen prayed his assessment was true and these were no trained assailants.
Raen heard two sets of footsteps, eagerly moving towards the bag. He peaked out of cover, scanning quickly on thermal. The guide and one shooter had their backs to Raenblaid, moving towards the bag. He spotted another shooter behind a tree, aiming towards where Raen had been moments before. There seemed to be only the two shooters.
Raenblaid grabbed a large rock from near his feet, and flung it high over the second shooters head, aimed for a gravel slide about 40 meters away. If his aim was true, it would cause a small rockslide, both distraction and noise cover. Raenblaid always did have a good arm. The rock struck its mark.
While the rock struck the gravel, causing a few meters worth of pebbles to pour over themselves down the steep terrain, Raenblaid quickly pulled himself over the rocky embankment up the mountainside. He started a full sprint towards the shooter, who had now fully turned his back to Raen. He didn't need to consciously watch where he was stepping. Years of training and practice of trail running meant each step was solid footing and avoiding crackling leaves. The guard heard him too late, turning. Raen's knife entered the man right under the ribcage, aimed up into the lungs to silence any shout or cry the man would have made. But he forgot to grab the guard's trigger hand…
Another mistake. The guard's rifle went off with a loud crack. Implants in Raenblaid's ears kept his eardrums from taking damage, but the other guard now turned back toward the piercing sound. Raenblaid stepped behind the tree for cover as a few bullets thudded into the trunk with loud thumps.
Raen leaned his head back against the tree, and angrily swore under his breath. He was furious. He knew in his missions that he might have to take life if necessary, but his mistakes were turning this situation into a disaster he could have easily avoided. Raen mulled what options remained to him.
He could easily just run forward, away. He was facing the higher path, the exit from the valley. The guide and shooter wouldn't catch him. But he would lose his gear and have a more difficult time getting his ride off this planet. Or, he could stay and fight, most likely resulting in at least one more death, risking bodily harm to himself, and essentially end up just where he began this mess. Trudging out of the valley, none the better for the bloodshed. He disliked both options.
"Listen!" Raenblaid loudly called out. "If you give up, and give me back my gear, I won't kill you. I won't even harm you. You will be free to go. I am telling the truth, despite the fact you lied to me about not harming me."
Silence. Raen risked tilting his head out slightly from behind the tree, and amplified the sound in his cyberneural. He heard not silence, but muttering. It seems the guide and the shooter were arguing over what to do. Raen peaked out further to be able to see. He could see the side of the guard exposed through the trees. Raen raised his handgun and aimed for the shooter's leg. At 30 meters, there was no guarantee Raenblaid would hit the leg. He could hit the torso, which could be a fatal shot. Raen hesitated.
"Look!" Raenblaid called out again. "See? I will put down my weapons." He held his arm out from the tree, and lightly tossed the handgun a few feet away. "Let's both throw our weapons down, and meet in the middle." He then tossed the knife down next to the gun.
The guide and shooter were still hesitating. Raenblaid had to sweeten the offer to get them to accept. "I'll even give you some of the credits!"
Finally the arguing between the guide and shooter stopped. The shooter held out a shaky arm, and dropped the rifle he held. Raenblaid took a step out of the tree cover and toward the middle. The guide and shooter did the same. Slowly they moved towards each other, one hesitant step at a time.
Raenblaid knew they might have other weapons. He weighed the choices. Prepare to defend against a knife? A pistol? He wasn't as worried about any blunt weapons. Based on their lack of training in warfare, Raenblaid assumed he could attack before they could draw a gun from a hidden holster or pocket. If, they tried to draw a gun. Better to prepare to defend against a knife, then.
Raen sent signals to his chest. The sima split in two. One half moved down his left arm, coating the palm and in between the fingers of his left hand. He hardened the alloy. He wouldn't be able to move his left hand or fingers, but he would be able to block any blades with his hand without damage. Plus it would make quite an impact if he needed to slap anyone. Raen chuckled at the thought of a slap in the midst of such deadly battle, as if chiding the thugs for trying to rob him. The second half of the sima he shaped into a small blade of his own, just under his right hand, along the underside of his palm and outside of his pinky finger. He hardened that as well. With the little amount of sima he had, it wasn't much, but it would be lethal enough if he bent his fingers into a fist, leaving the alloy blade extended.
Raenblaid and the men were only a few meters away now. The eyed each other suspiciously. The guide held Raen's bag.
"I'm sorry about your… associate," Raen said honestly. "May I please have the bag?" He held out his right hand.
The shooter held out his left hand in turn. His right hand remained by his side, partially obscured by his body. "Credits first."
Raenblaid hadn't prepared for this. He couldn't easily put his right hand in his pocket to grab credits without puncturing a hole in his pants from the extended blade. And he couldn't grasp anything with his left hand as his fingers were frozen in an extended position. Raenblaid's mind raced. He needed to give them an opportunity to attack, to see if their intentions of a peaceful trade were true. If they didn't attack, Raen could release one group of alloy and grab the credits.
“Sure, they are in my boots…" Raenblaid bent over, reaching down as if to undo his boots, eyes watching the knees of the men in front of him, body ready to instantly move.
The right knee of the shooter moved quickly forward. Raenblaid heard the guide yell "No!" but it was too late. The shooter was halfway into a stabbing motion. Raenblaid deflected the knife with his left hand and in one fluid motion had jammed the sima blade into the shooters throat. Raenblaid pulled the blade back with a wet, sickening sound, then turned and held the blade out towards the guide. The guide fell to his knees in horror, staring at the blood gushing from the shooter's throat. Raenblaid lowered his arm as he realized the guide was no fighter. Hatred burned in Raen towards the guide for forcing this bloodshed on him. Raen felt justified killing to help others, but this violence helped no one. There was no justification, and Raenblaid felt it within him like a void.
Raenblaid grabbed his bag, and looked the guide in the eyes. "Do something better with your life, or your life will end as empty and meaningless as the lives of your friends here." Raen nudged the foot of the dead shooter with his boot. He waited, staring at the guide, until the guide managed a feeble nod.
Raenblaid turned on his heel, and strode sharply back to the path. He had another mission to get to.