Dawn of Solace

[The Melancholy Spirit]

Prologue: Rise of a Black Dawn

“No humans…” the kira growled, glaring at the would-be patron. It was showing its teeth, muscles flexed as they seemed to always be with the species, and holding a large but worn-down scattershot. Marcus smirked.

”Human?” he looked around casually. “Strange, mom always told me I was a meat popsicle.” A low growl emitted from the kira’s throat, its brow shrinking as it stared at the smart-mouthed human.

At the remark the kira began growling louder and speaking in its own language. Marcus raised a brow at the strange dialect, one that he wasn’t familiar with. Rather, it was a dialect that the device formed like a mold to and behind his left ear that probed into the hearing and language processing centers of his brain was not familiar with. He caught a few words here and there. None were pleasant. Marcus began to ignore the bouncer, raising a hand to rub his forehead. Summon a human to a bar that doesn’t admit humans, lovely choice of direction to take. Guess whoever this is aren’t human either.

“Human,” a gruffer voice said, though with much more poise and much less aggression. Marcus turned to look a boros in the face. He responded with a simple nod. “I offer apologies for the inconvenience of our bouncer’s mistake. Scans show that you are the one with permission to enter, for a select time. A booth in a private room has been set up for you below. A guard will show you the way.”

Marcus gave a nod and stepped inside, past the still angry kira. The original boros disappeared, leaving another, armed with a long metal staff, to show him to the meeting place. The interior was dark, the only light being a dim and filtered fluorescent blue. It was hard for Marcus to get a visual on anything, the lighting geared toward the eyes of the aliens, not a human. After a moment he gave up and continued following the guard towards a stairwell and down into the sublevels of the establishment. Several corridors later and he was shown to a small room. It was empty.

He moved slowly to the circular booth and slipped in, instantly noticing it for what it was. In the center was a dome-shaped device that, when opened, would emit a holograph of a dancer. Considering the bar he was in, Marcus was less than amused at the implications of summoning. Best case scenario, a boros dancer. And after living among their species during most of his adolescence, he wasn’t looking forward to seeing a boros female dancing erotically for him; even if it was just a holograph display.

Slouched back in the uncomfortable designed booth, Marcus waited several minutes before becoming agitated. He dropped his head onto the back of the booth and stared at the ceiling he knew was there, though couldn’t see it. Idly he scratched at his chin until the clicking of the holograph device snapped at his attention. He tilted his eyes out of instinct, surprised at what showed up.

“What the fu-“

“Please, refrain yourself from vulgarity, Mr. Crestana,” a shallow voice spoke. Marcus groaned. He rolled his eyes and sat up. The holograph wasn’t of a boros dancer. It was of a blurred, static filled male. Boros maybe, he couldn’t rightfully tell. There was no question that it wasn’t a tick, or a kira. The size was too disproportioned for that. The male was either boros or aradar. Or human, for all he knew. Though that option was a highly unlikely one, a human going through much effort to get another human into a native bar, then appearing through a holograph in the private erotic rooms in the sublevels? Marcus shook the thought from his mind.

There was silence, each waiting for the other to properly start things off. The holograph just sat there, lines of static jumping through it and distorting the already shrouded figure until it was nothing more than a vague silhouette. Having dealt with aliens most of his life, Marcus had come to know his place among them; begrudgingly. He waited for the high-and-mighty figure that summoned him here to start. Likely whoever was on the other end of the holograph transmission was sizing him up, possibly waiting for him to say or do something stupid. Each second that lingered made him more uncomfortable.

“You should relax, Mr. Crestana. I am not your enemy. We’re former associates, you and I.”

“So why the need for secrecy?”

“You were present when the Ce’luiext family collapsed, Mr. Crestana. You should know well the need for any of us who survived the incident to remain… unknowns. We don’t all have the luxury of becoming just another human low-life.” That cleared up a few things. This man was definitely not human, though whether boros or aradar was still to be determined.

“Fair enough, least if I ignore the insult…” he muttered, adding under his breath, “self-righteous piss monger.” There was silence. Marcus shifted and cleared his throat, inwardly scolding himself for letting the comment slip. He smiled mockingly at the holograph.

“You’re a valuable resource, Mr. Crestana. Humans in general are, an untapped resource waiting to be exploited. Your rarity of background experience lends you to particular usefulness.”

“Right. This is starting to sound moderately familiar.” He was getting more ideas as to who was on the other end of the holograph, but they were still vague. Trouble was, even with the window narrowing, it was still possible to be any number of people his former ‘employers’ were close to.

“When the Ce’luiext fell, many of us fell around them, Mr. Crestana. I’m sure you’re aware of this.” There was no time for response; Marcus had barely parted his lips when the figure continued. “I intend to restore myself, and key trusted individuals to our former ranking. It will take much effort, however. I aim for you to help in that, Mr. Crestana.”

Marcus laughed openly. “You aim for me to help you?” He paused for a moment. The risks in helping someone related to the incident only a few cycles prior were weighing down on his mind. To say that he missed the luxury he once had would be an understatement. There was nothing in The Pit that could even come close to comparison, and there was nowhere else in the galaxy to go. Not other than home, if he could call it that. Pax was his home; he was born into the vile and wretched place. His mother might have found a caring and eccentric boros to take them away, a man that taught Marcus half the skills that helped him when he returned to Pax, but that planet was never home.

“Yes, Mr. Crestana. You have experience outside of The Pit, something very few humans have ever come to gain. You also have the ability to communicate with each species, in most of their individual dialects. It makes you an invaluable resource, to anyone. Numerous human organizations would do anything to have a proper mediator among them. Their black market devices only work so well.”

“So you want me working as mediator for... what, precisely?”

“A mercenary outfit, Mr. Crestana.” Marcus widened his eyes, then he blinked several times and shook his head. The figure continued. “What resources I still have are minimal, but I can supply you with a base of operations to start from, as well as some minor supplies and likely a vehicle. The team, I will leave up to you Mr. Crestana. A black dawn is coming to Pax. We’ll be in touch.”

The holograph shrunk back into the device, which clicked loudly as it closed. The door behind him opened, the guard ushering him out. Marcus stood slowly.

“A black dawn…”

[quakernuts]

"This right here sir...or...madam, is a Mk IV Trian Assault rifle. Cheap, reliable, and capable of punching holes through any of your kind of hides!"

A weapons dealer held the relatively small rifle towards the Kira, who gave a gruff snort in response. "Small." Was all it said, it's eyes locking on the Nuro'tai floating in his disc above the counter. The Tick gave a small sigh, his eyes locking on the weapon behind his goggles. The Tick forced the weapon forward once more, putting on a rather disbelieving smile only to the irritation of the Kira. The Kira put a hand on the weapon, grabbed it, and slammed it down on the table. Inching it's face closer to the dealer, who gulped and backed up slightly.

"Well, it looks big to me, ok? Let me go check in the back!" The Kira crossed it's arms, and the Tick wandered through a small metal door, the mechanism giving a slight 'whoosh' sound as it opened and closed. The Tick looked through the weapons, but he was looking for something else. There was only one room, filled to the brim with weapons. Yet he couldn't spot what he was looking for. Finally, he got fed up, and yelled at the top of his lungs.

"LOUIS!"

There was a clatter from his left as an entire rack of weapons fell to the ground, all luckily unloaded. Louis emerged from behind the pile, shaking his leg free from mess. "Yeah, what do you want Tara?" Tara only flew his disc up to Louis before hitting him in the chest with it. Louis stumbled backwards a bit, but did nothing else.

"What the fuck were you doing? You are here to work, not play with your action figures on the ground! I have a Kira out there that needs a big gun, and since big is relative and you're closer to his size, find something big and powerful. Do it, or I blame you for not having his weapon and let him come in here and castrate you with your own intestines!"

"Yeah...yeah, I'll find something." Tara stared him down for a moment before returning back through the door. Louis rolled his eyes, and started looking along the walls, the racks, and the floor for a big enough weapon for the creature. "You flying toilet bowl. You remind me of the shit I had last night if it had rocket boosters. Yeah, that's what I should have said. Heh...flying toilet bowl." Louis chuckled quietly to himself as he sorted through all the weapons, his eyes finally falling on a rather large one, a two hander to him. He waded through all the junk weapons before getting to it. He had been working on it earlier, learning the ins and outs of the firing mechanism, and could honestly say he would love to have one of these. To be honest, he wished he could have all of these weapons. The problem was, as soon as he left the Spire platforms, his parents locked out his accounts and didn't tell him. Needless to say, he was stuck working here because he bought a ton of guns...but couldn't pay for them and proceeded to tear them apart to get a better understanding of them. Tara wasn't happy then...and as it turned out...he was never happy...ever. Sighing, Louis grabbed the giant weapon by it's respective handles, and waded out through the door.

"Let me introduce you to a little something I like to call a Plasma Caster." Both Tara and the Kira turned towards him, the Kira giving obvious attention to the weapon. "This baby could punch through a Hover tank's hull given a good shot! Ammo comes in the form of these canisters here." Louis lifted the weapon up slightly, showing a small cylinder at the bottom, about the length of his hand. "Good for five shots each, heat induced melting possibilities, and the excuse to say to the lady Kira "Look at my gun" Eh? You know what I'm talking about?" Louis gave a wink to the creature, who stared at him dumbly.

"No." It said, and Louis gave a slight cough, looking away from the Kira.

"Alright then. Well, asking price is 3000 credits, ammo is 250 a cylinder. First cylinder comes with the weapon, an-"

"And I do the dealing Louis!" Tara suddenly butt in, glaring but not exactly angry at the kid. Tara turned around to face the Kira. "As he said, the asking price is 4000."

"But he sai-" The Kira went to object, but Tara interrupted him.

"Yeah? He was wrong! He's just a gun nut, he knows how to fix them, but not price them! I say 4000, with a cylinder. Take it or leave it, but I guarantee my competition will have you pay at least another 1000 after this." Tara looked the Kira over, who seemed to be giving it thought, and finally relented.

"I'll take it."

"Ah, very good. Louis, place the damn gun on the counter here!" Louis sighed, almost pouting as he made his way to the counter, and almost slammed the weapon down. As soon as he did, the weapon misfired, sending a bolt of plasma down the street and blowing the weapon itself backwards so fast it crashed into the weakened metal exterior of a shack and collapsed the building on itself. Debris covered everything, fires were started where the plasma was shot, and Louis blew the smoke away from himself. The Kira stood there, his credits in his hand as he looked at Tara and Louis with a deep scowl on his face. He quietly replaced his credits back to where they came from, and walked off. The entire time Tara was staring at the mass destruction of everything with his mouth wide open, and no doubt his eyes would be wide if they could be any wider. Louis stood there, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he looked over everything. Suddenly he snapped his fingers, causing Tara to jump, figuratively speaking, away from him.

"I took out the Plasma Fluctuation Capacitor when I was looking it over. Nothing was keeping the plasma in check, and the slam against the counter was all it needed to spark an explosive outburst." Louis looked down where the plasma shot, where a human was crying about his house or store or whatever it was. "SORRY!" Tara simply continued to look at him, half words coming out but no response to what just happened.

"But...he...that...what...I..." Louis simply beamed a smile at Tara.

"No worries, that gun is made of tougher stuff than some of these shacks. I can fix it." Louis walked to where the gun was partially sticking out, and managed to pull it all in one piece, although fractured in several places and the cylinder leaking plasma. "Huh, a little more work than I thought, but definitely do-able." Louis walked back towards the gun store, and popped inside without a further word. Tara simply looked after him for a second before finally yelling out in anger. A shout from farther down the street got his attention.

"My store!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Tara yelled at the man crying at the destruction of his hut, and floated to the door. "LOUIS YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" Tara walked inside...and several tense moments a hole appeared in the side of the wall. Tara was at a wall banging his head against it while Louis looked out the hole biting his lower lip.

"Huh, this shotgun is a lot stronger than I thought."

[The Melancholy Spirit]

Marcus was wearing a smirking, bemused, brow-quirked expression as he neared the store. He knew the owner, though not exactly on the best of terms. His shop was, not looking to be having its best day; a valuable deal with a kira gone sour due to the curious tinkering of his worker and damage to a shop down the street and what seemed to be possible damage to his own shop. The shouting made it all too apparent; Tara was not in a good mood. It meant that any dealings with the already insufferable tick were not going to go over well. Still, he needed a firearm to equip unto the transport vehicle, considering it was nothing more than a rundown junker without so much as decent paint job.

As he approached the shop, Tara came scuttling through the air on his disc and looked directly at him. The look wasn’t pleasant. Marcus managed a smile.

“Oh, well look what the big honcho Oracle has sent scrambling to my little side of Hell...what do you want Marcus?"

Marcus scratched the side of his face. “Need a mountable weapon for a small personnel transport.”

The tick scoffed. "You plan on fucking people up in a go cart? We have BB guns for sale if that's the case Hot shot."

With a slight groan, Marcus leaned onto the counter and looked at Tara with a tilted head. “Yeah, I plan on running down a certain tick with a bad attitude for business. That is if his little slave in the back doesn’t manage to kill him with plasma first.” He shook his head. “Just tell me what you have, Tara. Make this easier on both of us won’t you?”

Tara growls slightly, not backing down from the threat but not one to refuse money either. He floats over to the hole in the wall, and yells inside. "LOUIS! Grab this punk out here one of the Turrets for use one a conventional military transport vehicle." Crashes can be heard in the back as Louis moves around before coming out toting a turret nearly the size of him.

Marcus leaned back and cleared his throat. He was about as far away from an expert of knowledge on firearms of this sort as one could get. He nodded. “Looks can be deceiving, this thing be worth its weight in a fight?”

Tara wasn’t the one to respond. "Definitely, I don't deal in crap weapons. This here my good sir, is an M-12 'Cooker' Heavy machine gun, known for overheating with extended use. This baby uses armour piercing bullets as standard ammunition, has a 400 round per minute firing rate, low recoil due to enhanced mainframe build keeping it in place, and can be found on most low law enforcement vehicles around the area. Illegal in most areas of Pax, including the Pit, but when was the last time you saw a cop? Attachments can be easily made for this weapon, including an optional heat sink which I really suggest for this puppy, a targeting assist, or frontal firing shield. This thing is best used against moderately armed foot soldiers, and should not, under any situation, be fired for more than ten minutes at any given time. Overheating is one thing, Misfiring is fatal."

The kid dumped the weapon onto the table after his speech on the specs of the weapon, his employer instinctually raising his hands and skirting away. When nothing happened, the kid merely looked at Tara. “What?” he turned back to Marcus. “Repairs, other than misfire, are relatively easy given even the most minimum of experience, and the parts to replace damaged ones are cheap. If you're going for low price, moderate reliability, and high life span, this is your weapon."

Marcus smirked. “That should work. How much for it?” He paused, looking at the human, then back to Tara. “Might have almost destroyed half a block, but he isn’t a completely useless now is he?”

"Louis, head in the back and see if you can find a heat sink." Louis nods and heads into the back. "Regular price for this is 5000 credits...but, if you take dumbass with you, I'll cut it in half and throw in a heat sink for free, usually for the price of 700 credits."

The deal was tempting. Marcus pondered for a moment, looking at the damage to the surrounding buildings. “Not sure that deal is really worth it, Tara. Last time I took a ‘sweetened’ deal with you I almost ended up mince meat in a kira’s food dish in the back of a rather filthy smuggling den.”

"How was I supposed to know the god damn human was bi-species? Look, he already has his own armour and weapons. As much as I hate to say it, they are better than anything I've seen down here." Tara thought for a moment, before leaning over the counter. "2000 credits with the heat sink."

“A solid deal of two thousand?” Marcus shook his head. So far he had a base, rundown as it was, and an equally rundown vehicle. But personnel? No one. All he had come across so far were sketchy mercenaries he’d not trust on one of their likely rare ‘good’ days. That and they wanted outrageous sums of money he didn’t have for advanced pay. The kid might be dangerous, but that could play both ways. Possibly. Doubtfully. Marcus tried to be optimistic. “All right, you got a deal.”

The tick seemed to leap slightly from his disc, shouting. “DEAL NO TRADE BACK!” A moment later the kid walked back out.

“Found it!”

"Yeah, well get back in there and get your shit, you're leaving with this guy!"

"You mean I don't have to work for you anymore?"

"GET...OUT!"

"Alright!" With that the kid went back inside to fetch his armor while Tara fixed up the transaction. Marcus forwarded over the due pay. He sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“Going to end of regretting this aren’t I?” explosions rocked the side of the building as another hole appeared in its framework.

“Sorry! Faulty primer!”

Tara looked dumbly at Marcus.

“Like a date with a kira.”

Marcus raised a brow. “I’m just going to take your word for that one…”

A moment later and the kid came walking out, now dressed in custom armor with new weapons that Marcus knew right away were not from the Pit. Or, at least, they weren’t something just any nobody could afford. He was so perplexed he barely noticed the kid’s eager attitude.

“So where we goin’?”

Marcus reached over and hefted the turret, grunting under its weight. “Home, to attach this thing and give it a little test in the yard.” He paused, and then smiled at the kid. “And then you can give our rig a new paint job.”

"Red and Black is always a winning combination! Later Tara!"

“Yeah, yeah, whatever…” the tick turned slightly as another portion of his store suffered a minor explosion. He paused for a second. “AND DON’T COME BACK!”

Marcus smirked. “All right, let’s do as the tick says.”

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