Burn, page 2
part #14 of Galactic Cyborg Heat Series
She turned back to Mikle and threw back the shot in the glass. This time she was ready for it and it went down far easier. Putting her glass down she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stared him in the eye. Reaching for her blade. “You sure he’s not back in the rental section getting his rocks off?”
Mikle put both hands up. “He’s not here Zhi.” He used her tech name. He only did that when he was trying for honesty. And sometimes failing.
This time, she believed him and nodded. “Put your hands down. You look stupid,” she told him.
Mikle smirked and lowered his hands. “So what did Bertl do?” he asked refilling her glass.
Angel look at the crowd getting rowdy. She rolled her eyes at some of the antics. Too much testosterone for her taste and sadly nothing to tempt her. “He’s been a good supplier……. I simply want to know where he’s getting it.”
Mikle laughed, ”is that all? He’s not going to be giving that up easily.”
Angel gave him a wry smile and threw back the drink, putting her hand over the glass. She knew her limit. Particularly in this bar, if she didn’t want to end up getting fucked sideways. “Know where he lives?” she asked.
Mikle looked her over with some interest. She sighed, they’d enjoyed each other mutually many times but it was nothing serious. He held no interest for her apart from starching that particular itch. It was a reminder that nothing comes cheap on this world. If he had the information, he’d expect to get paid for it. She wasn’t averse to that. You just had to decide if you were willing to pay it. “I do,” he told her grinning. His look got heated. “I’ve got a break in 20 and a spare rental. How about you show me how good you are at thanking me for the intel?”
Angel laughed this time. “I’m not paying for what ‘might’ be a good location. Give me the info, I’ll check it out and if its legit,” she leaned over the bar, “payment will be…… what its worth.” She told him then winked. They both knew better than to screw each other over.
Mikle grinned. “Deal. The Wilds. Sector 3. Zone 1.”
Angel smiled at him. He Was her favourite barman. “I’ll be seeing you real soon Mikle.” She kissed him off and made her way up back up to street level. The market in full swing now. Lots of people crowded into small spaces buying and selling their wares. The hustle and bustle always appealed to her. She liked the haggle and had some deals to do before she could leave. Breathing in to clear her head of the alcohol fog she headed to her next appointment. Then the Wilds it was.
***
The new engines worked a dream. Kim the Admirals mate had done her magic again. Their latest incarnation was so much faster than the last one. She’d outdone herself this time, Burn mused, they’d be no containing her when she got the data on it. He knew her well. The Admiral had his hands full and was one very happy Cyborg.
Many Cyborg mates had been found to bring much to the Empire. Female were cherished and wanted by many. They offered skills and futures. Futures they had never considered possible before the Admiral found his Kim. A home maker was highly valued as a scientist or doctor. It mattered not to the Cyborg. They were all unique and if a perfect match was found, nothing mattered but the DNA link.
They had to be of maturity, without a male’s scent and age was immaterial. Without the recognition of their perfect DNA match, a Cyborg wasn’t interested. It did not matter how the female looked, or what they did. The connection and recognition were all that mattered.
Burn’s optic flowed with data. It showed him they would be at their destination in just over a week. They had waited for this moment for some time. Searching longer and further, than ever before in this trajectory. All their collected data told them there was no pirate activity this far out as far as they knew. But they also knew they had to be somewhere, having been kicked out of their original territory. That was now Cyborg.
So they watched and recorded anything that gave them intel on where they might be next. The pirates had had generations to search out their territories and create several base of operations. None of which had been recorded in their ships. They were smart. Few actually made bases. Most re-stocked in Space, made their own trades, or stole it. Logic told him this was a possible location and Burn had expected to see a lot more on this journey. They were out there somewhere, raiding, killing and hiding.
But, they were learning, they were smarter now. They knew to stay out of Cyborg space and out of their way if they wanted to survive. They picked on the weak and to their cost, they’d found out Cyborgs were far from weak.
Burn wondered if they knew of this world. If they raided it or had a connection to it. He looked forward to dealing out some more Cyborg justice and finally meeting this seller of their tech ……
***
Angel rowed herself slowly out towards the Wilds before engaging her paddle wheel. Her mother had once told her that the planet was vastly different from Old Earth. Several generations before her, they had arrived on a seeding ship with tunnelling equipment and enough resources for a few years to get them started. The ship cannibalised to make the first of the colony. The tunnels offered security and protection until they could build on the surface. They still used those tunnels today. Mikle’s bar was in one of them. Trouble was, they didn’t realise that in some places, the crust was so thin, it couldn’t take the weight of the equipment and beneath it, were vast amounts of water.
Good to keep you alive, bad if you want to build anything on it. So they’d taken to surveying the planet as much as possible and testing the ground. Where the main settlement was for several miles out in all directions, it was good solid ground. After that, it was solid to the west as far as you could walk in one day but the further east you went, the more broken the ground got. It was like a cracked shell in places and you could walk from shell to shell but you took the chance of getting locked out in it or adrift. To get about, you had to use a boat and avoid those areas, others were all water, vegetation and wild life. That particular area, few wanted much to do with it. Just an intrepid few. They didn’t mind the humidity and heat and liked living on the water and did. It was called the Wilds because it was just that, Wild.
Her mother thought it was like the pictures she’d seen of a place called Florida Glades back on Old Earth. Angel didn’t really know what that was, but she knew that all manner of animals had evolved undisturbed for however long on this world and had made the Wilds their home. The humans were the interlopers here and sometimes paid the price. It was a delicate eco system that fed on each other. If you got in the way, you were food too.
They all knew the danger and Angel didn’t like the reminder as her paddle wheel kicked in. Things moved around her in the water, mostly harmless and through the vegetation all around her. She kept her gun and blades handy, keeping her eyes peeled. It wasn’t unheard of for boats to get turned over here if you pissed off the wrong thing. She’d been out this way foraging a number of times over the years. Things and people got lost in this part of the world and you’d be stupid to forget that.
Damaged vessels that hadn’t done too well in the asteroid field around their planet came crashing down, others surviving the field tried to land in the wrong places. If people survived they joined the community or left on a rescue ship if it got through or tried to fix their ships and could spend the rest of their lives trying to do it. Other ships were too far gone, and people died. It was what happened on this world. Those ships were good savaging if it stayed afloat while you gutted it. If you were willing to take the chance it didn’t sink out from under you while you were still in it that was.
The Wilds were fraught with dangers but the rewards, could be worth it. Pull the right tech and it could make or break you. She moved steadily to her destination.
Every now and then, a small settlement would spring up on boats lashed together forming an Island or someone found shallow ground to build on. The Floaters as they called them, took their chances that the Wilds didn’t flood them out, but it did move them around sometimes and she had contacts in several of them. So finding the less fixed ones, wasn’t always easy. And they kinda liked that, the people who worked for her gathering materials out there. Didn’t like being to …….. available.
There were things that were rare on their world. The miners had their ore but that alone, didn’t give them everything they needed, and they were beholden to the trade that came through the asteroid field. Some of it, not good. They’re world had no advanced technology production and they needed that to make things work. She needed it.
Angel spotted the first of her destinations and headed for it. Bertl wouldn’t be there but others would be. Others that might have some information for her.
***
Burn looked at the ship playing cat and mouse with them. They had come across it within half a day of dropping from Folding speed into this part of Space. Only the little ship was easily out matched, but it did not give way. That intrigued him. Faced with more fire power, bigger engines, a craft ten times its size and with a far superior crew, it wasn’t logical for it to continue to harass them, but it did, informing that they were in their trade lanes and trespassing. Logically whatever they were trading had to be worth the risks it was taking. That required further investigation.
Cyborgs worked within the law. If this was registered Space, they would abide by its governing body. “Do we have tags on that craft and intel on who owns this part of the universe?” he called out.
Jace turned to him from his console. “They are not displaying tags and have ignored requests for jurisdiction and legal registration.”
Burn weighed up his options. They could just blast it and if the ship had scanners, they would know that and still they played this game. Or bi-pass it, but it would still be there behind him. He didn’t like that option. He didn’t like anything at his back. It might be small, but its mother ship could be something else, if it had one. “What do we know about the trading lanes it’s talking about?”
“The information supplied, does not reference to anything we know.” Jace told him.
Burn had heard enough, they tried were possible to honour the sovereignty of all vessels but they were refusing to work with them. He turned to his communications specialist. “Zenn, infiltrate that ship and gather data. I want everything they have. I want to know it all.”
“Affirmative.”
Burn looked at his Bridge crew. They were good men, good Cyborgs. All battle hardened over 60 years of fighting. Birthed as adults, they trained for three years gathering knowledge and skills then were sent out on missions. They survived or died. Some, were brought back to life. Some, were too far gone. Not that they looked that old. Although some first generations like the Admiral were edging 80 in human years, they didn’t look it. Cyborgs held their age. The age Designers built them for. Most aging stopped in their early 30s. At their peak. Some went to 40s and others were held in their 20s. The aging process stopped where they were Designers wanted them to. So they could better do the job they had been created to do. Their nano’s kept their bodies from decaying, rebuilding them from within. Burn knew he looked in this 30s, 32 to be exact. The programmed time in his data but it masked the truth. He was actually 72.
Not that he felt it. None of them did. Cyborgs walked and fought through their lives. One war after another, dealing with one uprising after another. It was what they were created for and some of them died doing it. He had, several times. Dying for Cyborgs didn’t necessarily mean the end. They could be shut down and jump started again. It wasn’t recommended but it did happen. They were far too valuable to give up on and that’s how the nano’s came into being. They needed something that would prolong their lives, fix them and put them back into the front line quickly. Cyborgs weren’t cheap to build so the rewards had to be worth it to Earth Corp.
Damaged from his last encounter before being free, he’d taken his name from it. He’d been badly burnt in that one. A N‘palm explosion in the heat of battle. His body repaired itself the best it could under the duress of bombs and fighting going on around him. Not that he stopped fighting. Burning didn’t stop them. Survival and getting back into battle was the priority. It hadn’t been a pretty fix and some of his body was too scared to ever be clear again. But they didn’t need pretty.
Unless you were an infiltrator unit and your mission were seduction and even then, some females didn’t like the pretty ones. They preferred the damaged ones. picking them out of a line-up of ‘available Cyborgs’ or intel told them petty wasn’t what she craved. Ordered or paid for, it was the same outcome. They did their job. It made no logical sense to him. Females were too individual. They’re responses too varied. Most of which seemed illogical to him and their decisions, were not always based on fact and that was unpredictable.
Not that that mattered then. What had mattered had been to survive. Survive the Corporation wars. The Corporation that built them. Earth Corp. Those that had played god, with prisoners in their care. That had created life, where none had existed before and studied it. Manipulated it for generations. Tore it apart and created it again. All in the pursuit of the perfect weapon. Cyborgs.
Disposable, long lived and programmable to be whatever you needed them to do. Your own personal army. Ready to do your bidding. Sold out and loaned to the highest bidder. For a war of their own or their own enjoyment. Cyborgs had plenty to offer in both capacities.
They were tutored in every skill from birthing as a youth. They arrived into the world fully formed around 18 years old. Empty shells ready for feeding. They downloaded file after file. One lot of source material after another. For an entire week, a core dump provided everything they needed to know. How to eat, sleep, feed, walk, talk and use their neuro net. To wash, shit and clean up after themselves. They were new born babies in adult bodies that were brought up to speed very quickly.
And if they survived the hard-core dump into their brains, three years of physical work started. Training programmes were loaded, skill sets and targeted information given to them for their designation.
Lastly, they were taught to fight and how to breed and how to use it to get what they needed. And that was it. They were ready for war. That was life. Until Earth Corps dirty little secret got out and the public revolted against them and its share price plummeted. Threatening the entire Corporation, it had to come clean for it to survive. Kinda anyway.
They tried to brush it off, under play it and hide what they could, but under mounting pressure the result in the end had been to free them all. Or to look like they had. Records were sketchy back then. It was hard to tell how many Cyborgs had been created. How many had survived. They were thrown throughout the universe, bought and sold. Scattered to the winds and Earth Corp had been at it in secret for generations. True numbers didn’t exist. So many lost. So many re-built. So many made over.
So they kept looking. Far too many had been sold on. Other’s lost in campaigns and not retrieved. His mission; find them and bring them home to the Empire.
Zenn turned back to him. His glazed expression an indication of neuro net connection. “They are ore traders on their way to a mining colony at our destination. Designation Bynetine Corporation. There is no legal jurisdiction in this sector they have a contract only. Their home base is in quadrant three. A moon called Xiadon Two around a dead world. They are passing the ore off as their own which has been exhausted on their dead world. They are selling it on at an inflated price. They found the planet by accident. A passing trader mentioned having survived the asteroid field with engine failure and had taken some R & R on the planet while they helped him fix the vessel. He’d seen the ore commenting on its quality. That set off a trading rush to find it as their own ore was down to the poorer quality. It was a smart move. Preventing them from having to relocate and start the mining process all over again with an uncertain future. At their top speed to get to our destination takes them eight months in cryo. There is a three-month rotation of ships in place. No escorts. Ore carriers only. They are awoken by their computer system two weeks out to complete final preparations in readiness for the ore.”
Zenn focused back on him having cut the connection to the onboard ships computer. Burn smiled. “Remind our guests of what we now know. Inform them they have no legal jurisdiction in this Space. Send a ping off to the Admiral asking if he wants to annex this world, knowing that. And, tell Bynetine Corporation we are the Cyborg Empire. We will respect their contract unless we find they are not being ………. Fair.”
Zenn smiled. Both messages would have been sent instantly. Jace chuckled beside him. “Fair? They wont like that, its business.”
Burn smiled back. “I know.”
***
Chapter Two
Angel made a bee line for what passed as a bar for the floating community. It always had a few colourful characters willing to make a trade. She manoeuvred between the homes, passing a number of people she hadn’t seen for a while. Glad to see them healthy and well she called to them while waving or nodding. Others shouted over to her, asking what she had to sell, and she told them. Angel never came out here without having something to sell. It made good business sense but also, she knew how much they needed what she could provide. She had a good reputation with these people and intended to keep it that way. They lived their lives as it suited them, and she was all for that.
