They made it to Jagiellonian Pharmaceuticals after a twenty-minute walk down a few side streets. The stroll had been silent, with the three soldiers taking the time to enjoy the sights and smells of the Tier 1 community nestled far from the skylines of downtown. The sky streets here were less clogged with cars, but there were more than enough trucks and cargo vehicles to still fill the empty spaces that hung between the collection of steel structures.
“This is it,” Seventeen spoke softly as he gestured toward a building at the end of their block. Jagiellonian Pharmaceuticals was a large, three-story business with whitewashed walls and large, glittering windows. It looked like the type of storefront you would find a few blocks from the Nexus gate. “I’ll go in and speak with the people inside.”
“What is our cover?” Corporal Harbaugh inquired. “Inspectors? Contractors?”
Seventeen furrowed his brow. “Imma be a guy,” he responded matter-of-factly as he tapped a finger to the side of his head. “If there’s anything in there that shouldn’t be there, I ought to be able to pick it up with my noggin.” He left out the fact that Trixie had outfitted his Capsulebook with an app to detect traces of Slo-mo. Apparently, the drug, which was utilized via an inhaler, left trace particles of Freon and a few other chemicals that you normally wouldn’t find lingering in the atmosphere of a pharmacy. If the tablet pinged positive, the man at the desk would have a lot of explaining to do.
“So, do we keep point? Guns ready? Will you signal? Or wi—”
The cyborg cut the woman off by lifting a hand. “One of you wait at the bus stop, and I want the other one of you…” He looked over at Harbaugh. “I want you to go up into that hotel and make your way up to the roof.”
“Sentry,” she muttered, nodding her head.
Her noncom nodded back, even though the order was simply to get her as far away from the situation as he could. He had never watched her hold a weapon, and the last thing he needed was for her by-the-brains book to implode if anything went south. She would do best as an eye from up above, where she could watch the situation unfold and log the hours she needed before being reassigned to a different group.
“Wait for my signal,” Seventeen instructed as he lifted his wrist. While he wore nothing atop his bony white skin, the two soldiers both had the newest computer watches. At a moment’s notice, he could send an alarm to the pair and have them rushing in to cover his flanks. With any luck, it wouldn’t come to that, but he couldn’t be sure.
With his two team members off to their posts, the machine-hybrid adjusted his bandana and made his way inside Jagiellonian Pharmaceuticals. The stroll through the entryway went off without a hitch, but by the time he had made it halfway down the center of the store, he felt a few too many eyes lingering on him. A glance revealed a few well-bearded men in the suppository aisle staring at him and whispering to one another.
Lovely.
Even so, Seventeen pressed on to the checkout area. The young woman at the front desk wore the same plastic grin that most pharmacy techs wore, but the moment her eyes met those of her raven-haired visitor, the saccharine smile melted.
“Hello,” the cyborg spoke when he was close enough to address her without talking too loudly. “My buddy is suffering from some congestion, and I’d like to get something to help him clear out his system.”
Instead of offering feigned happiness at the prospect of a customer, the pharmacy tech scowled and leaned a little closer to her desk. Her skinny, well-manicured fingers vanished beneath the countertop—something that a less trained eye might fail to notice.
“You do anything with those hands, and you won’t have them anymore.” Seventeen spoke softly as he crossed his hands in front of his chest. With any luck, he’d come off as a little unimposing, since he had no visible weapons and clearly wouldn’t be reaching them anytime soon.
The young woman’s expression hardened. “You aren’t welcome here, Imperial. We pay the taxes.”
Seventeen nodded his head. “Yes, but they’ve gone up in the last six months, and an audit of your finances here shows that this company isn’t bringing in any additional revenue… that’s on the books, at least.”
“What are you implying?”
“This is above you pay-grade, Ma’am,” the cyborg replied. “Why don’t you call the boss down, because…” The Capsulebook thrummed inside his pocket, which meant it’s chemical scans had come up positive. “Now I definitely need to speak with the man in charge.”
“He’s above your paygrade,” the pharmacy tech rasped before hopping back. As she cleared the desk, Seventeen saw the handheld blaster in her left hand, but before she could swing it to bear, she had a hole through her skull.
Hand smoking from the freshly discharged ki burst, the cyborg turned around just in time to see the two men from the suppository aisle.
“Coppers think they can give us the shakedown!” One of them barked as a few more men and women started to filter in from around the large store.
“Copper?” Seventeen groaned as he stepped back toward the pharmacy desk. He slipped a hand into his pocket and flashed a wide smile. “What bargain bin for thugs did they buy you from?”
The big man’s expression turned sour as he drew a pistol from behind his back and opened fire. By the time the first bullets came crashing into the pharmacy, Seventeen had already leapt backwards through the glass divided and hunkered down behind the reinforced counter.
In his pocket, the Capsulebook thrummed several times in quick succession, which meant that either of his partners was trying to get a hold of him. Either that, or Trixie had been given access to a hell of a lot of CCTV feeds for the purposes of this mission.
Just stay put. Seventeen thought as he glanced up at a security camera in the corner of the far wall. I can handle this. Best case scenario, the gunshots would bring the suited troopers, and this whole situation could be resolved in short order.
The spray of energized bullets died down, and the machine-hybrid heard the crunch of boots against litter-strewn aisles. With a faint grin, the raven-haired fighter vanished in a swirl of blue and white light particles. When the hired guns reached the pharmacy counter, they found only the corpse of the dead tech, scattered glass, and shell casings.
Seventeen reappeared behind them and even went so far as to lean forward to look in as well. “Doesn’t look like anything,” he whispered to the two men, who turned to him with wide eyes. Before they could react, the man was gone.
A beat later, the quartet of additional hired guns gathered behind the pair with the strange accents opened fire. They had hoped to hit the skinny Imperial agent, but instead, they wound up reducing the two men near the counter to shuddering corpses slumped over the pharmacy counter. The four barely had time to react to their deeds before the cyborg rematerialized and retaliated.
A quick one-two burst took down two of the hired guns.
A third turned and ran, leaving the fourth to ponder her options before a hole opened up in the center of her forehead.
With the problem dealt with, Seventeen went chasing after the last man. “Surrender in the name of the law!” The cyborg barked as he took down a mental note to high-five himself for managing to use that line.
The man crashed through the glass doors of the pharmacy and made it six more steps before he ate half a dozen bullets. His body managed a few more steps before tilting and crashing into an ensanguined heap near the edge of the sidewalk. On the other side of the street, Private Heinrich lifted a hand and smiled faintly. A few steps away from the man, a grinning Corporal Harbaugh was also showing something that bordered on emotion. There was a short moment when Seventeen thought about buying the man a drink when this was all finished.
That moment came to a screeching halt when the private’s head exploded like a watermelon stuffed with a gallon of plastic explosives.
Corporal Harbaugh, who likely hadn’t witnessed an actual murder from such short range, went wide in the eyes and shaky in the knees. A hand clamped down over her mouth, possibly a reflex to try and maintain her composure.
Before the cyborg had a chance to react, a red dot appeared on the center of Corporal Harbaugh’s chest. It took the distraught woman a moment to notice it, but when she did, she almost lost her balance. The color drained from her features, and it became evident that the corporal was on the verge of a breakdown.
Shortly thereafter, the pay phone next to the entrance of the pharmacy started to ring. Seventeen let it ring two times before the realization set in that it was probably for him, so with slow steps, he edged his way over to the device and pluck it off its receiver.
“Hello?”
“Good afternoon, Imperial,” the voice was distorted by some sort of technology. “You do anything stupid, and your friend over there dies. Understood?”
“Ten-four,” Seventeen replied as he glanced around the surrounding buildings. Jagiellonian Pharmaceuticals was a big building, which meant their sniper was likely either somewhere on the top floors or on the rooftop of one of the adjacent structures. If Seventeen could just pinpoint his location…
“Stop looking around,” the man—if the synthetic voice was from someone with a y chromosome—barked. “Eyes on your friend.”
Damn it. Seventeen shifted his focus to the panicked face of Corporal Harbaugh. Would today’s events shatter the young woman’s resolve to pursue a career in the Empire?
More importantly, why the hell was Seventeen calling people young who were probably barely two years his junior?
“You know how much those hired guns cost?”
Seventeen grinned. “I hope not much. They were awful.”
“Funny guy, eh? You gonna be funny when I put a hole in your chest? Or her chest?”
“Do you plan to spend this entire time sweettalking me, or you got a point to all this?”
The man on the other end laughed—a somewhat unsettling robot chuckle. “Who are you, Imperial?”
“Seventeen.”
“That’s a number.”
“Yea, and it’s my number, Mister…?”
“Just call me B-Money.”
“That’s a dumb name.”
“Well, Mr. Number, I’m the god damn baron of Slo-mo, and your little shit show here just cost me a few easy mil in omnilium. You plan to pay me back for that?”
The machine-hybrid smirked. “I’m sure you’ll make up for it someway.”
“Just be aware, Mr. Number, that you and I will be talking again sometime soon.”
With that, Jagiellonian Pharmaceuticals exploded.
“This is it,” Seventeen spoke softly as he gestured toward a building at the end of their block. Jagiellonian Pharmaceuticals was a large, three-story business with whitewashed walls and large, glittering windows. It looked like the type of storefront you would find a few blocks from the Nexus gate. “I’ll go in and speak with the people inside.”
“What is our cover?” Corporal Harbaugh inquired. “Inspectors? Contractors?”
Seventeen furrowed his brow. “Imma be a guy,” he responded matter-of-factly as he tapped a finger to the side of his head. “If there’s anything in there that shouldn’t be there, I ought to be able to pick it up with my noggin.” He left out the fact that Trixie had outfitted his Capsulebook with an app to detect traces of Slo-mo. Apparently, the drug, which was utilized via an inhaler, left trace particles of Freon and a few other chemicals that you normally wouldn’t find lingering in the atmosphere of a pharmacy. If the tablet pinged positive, the man at the desk would have a lot of explaining to do.
“So, do we keep point? Guns ready? Will you signal? Or wi—”
The cyborg cut the woman off by lifting a hand. “One of you wait at the bus stop, and I want the other one of you…” He looked over at Harbaugh. “I want you to go up into that hotel and make your way up to the roof.”
“Sentry,” she muttered, nodding her head.
Her noncom nodded back, even though the order was simply to get her as far away from the situation as he could. He had never watched her hold a weapon, and the last thing he needed was for her by-the-brains book to implode if anything went south. She would do best as an eye from up above, where she could watch the situation unfold and log the hours she needed before being reassigned to a different group.
“Wait for my signal,” Seventeen instructed as he lifted his wrist. While he wore nothing atop his bony white skin, the two soldiers both had the newest computer watches. At a moment’s notice, he could send an alarm to the pair and have them rushing in to cover his flanks. With any luck, it wouldn’t come to that, but he couldn’t be sure.
With his two team members off to their posts, the machine-hybrid adjusted his bandana and made his way inside Jagiellonian Pharmaceuticals. The stroll through the entryway went off without a hitch, but by the time he had made it halfway down the center of the store, he felt a few too many eyes lingering on him. A glance revealed a few well-bearded men in the suppository aisle staring at him and whispering to one another.
Lovely.
Even so, Seventeen pressed on to the checkout area. The young woman at the front desk wore the same plastic grin that most pharmacy techs wore, but the moment her eyes met those of her raven-haired visitor, the saccharine smile melted.
“Hello,” the cyborg spoke when he was close enough to address her without talking too loudly. “My buddy is suffering from some congestion, and I’d like to get something to help him clear out his system.”
Instead of offering feigned happiness at the prospect of a customer, the pharmacy tech scowled and leaned a little closer to her desk. Her skinny, well-manicured fingers vanished beneath the countertop—something that a less trained eye might fail to notice.
“You do anything with those hands, and you won’t have them anymore.” Seventeen spoke softly as he crossed his hands in front of his chest. With any luck, he’d come off as a little unimposing, since he had no visible weapons and clearly wouldn’t be reaching them anytime soon.
The young woman’s expression hardened. “You aren’t welcome here, Imperial. We pay the taxes.”
Seventeen nodded his head. “Yes, but they’ve gone up in the last six months, and an audit of your finances here shows that this company isn’t bringing in any additional revenue… that’s on the books, at least.”
“What are you implying?”
“This is above you pay-grade, Ma’am,” the cyborg replied. “Why don’t you call the boss down, because…” The Capsulebook thrummed inside his pocket, which meant it’s chemical scans had come up positive. “Now I definitely need to speak with the man in charge.”
“He’s above your paygrade,” the pharmacy tech rasped before hopping back. As she cleared the desk, Seventeen saw the handheld blaster in her left hand, but before she could swing it to bear, she had a hole through her skull.
Hand smoking from the freshly discharged ki burst, the cyborg turned around just in time to see the two men from the suppository aisle.
“Coppers think they can give us the shakedown!” One of them barked as a few more men and women started to filter in from around the large store.
“Copper?” Seventeen groaned as he stepped back toward the pharmacy desk. He slipped a hand into his pocket and flashed a wide smile. “What bargain bin for thugs did they buy you from?”
The big man’s expression turned sour as he drew a pistol from behind his back and opened fire. By the time the first bullets came crashing into the pharmacy, Seventeen had already leapt backwards through the glass divided and hunkered down behind the reinforced counter.
In his pocket, the Capsulebook thrummed several times in quick succession, which meant that either of his partners was trying to get a hold of him. Either that, or Trixie had been given access to a hell of a lot of CCTV feeds for the purposes of this mission.
Just stay put. Seventeen thought as he glanced up at a security camera in the corner of the far wall. I can handle this. Best case scenario, the gunshots would bring the suited troopers, and this whole situation could be resolved in short order.
The spray of energized bullets died down, and the machine-hybrid heard the crunch of boots against litter-strewn aisles. With a faint grin, the raven-haired fighter vanished in a swirl of blue and white light particles. When the hired guns reached the pharmacy counter, they found only the corpse of the dead tech, scattered glass, and shell casings.
Seventeen reappeared behind them and even went so far as to lean forward to look in as well. “Doesn’t look like anything,” he whispered to the two men, who turned to him with wide eyes. Before they could react, the man was gone.
A beat later, the quartet of additional hired guns gathered behind the pair with the strange accents opened fire. They had hoped to hit the skinny Imperial agent, but instead, they wound up reducing the two men near the counter to shuddering corpses slumped over the pharmacy counter. The four barely had time to react to their deeds before the cyborg rematerialized and retaliated.
A quick one-two burst took down two of the hired guns.
A third turned and ran, leaving the fourth to ponder her options before a hole opened up in the center of her forehead.
With the problem dealt with, Seventeen went chasing after the last man. “Surrender in the name of the law!” The cyborg barked as he took down a mental note to high-five himself for managing to use that line.
The man crashed through the glass doors of the pharmacy and made it six more steps before he ate half a dozen bullets. His body managed a few more steps before tilting and crashing into an ensanguined heap near the edge of the sidewalk. On the other side of the street, Private Heinrich lifted a hand and smiled faintly. A few steps away from the man, a grinning Corporal Harbaugh was also showing something that bordered on emotion. There was a short moment when Seventeen thought about buying the man a drink when this was all finished.
That moment came to a screeching halt when the private’s head exploded like a watermelon stuffed with a gallon of plastic explosives.
Corporal Harbaugh, who likely hadn’t witnessed an actual murder from such short range, went wide in the eyes and shaky in the knees. A hand clamped down over her mouth, possibly a reflex to try and maintain her composure.
Before the cyborg had a chance to react, a red dot appeared on the center of Corporal Harbaugh’s chest. It took the distraught woman a moment to notice it, but when she did, she almost lost her balance. The color drained from her features, and it became evident that the corporal was on the verge of a breakdown.
Shortly thereafter, the pay phone next to the entrance of the pharmacy started to ring. Seventeen let it ring two times before the realization set in that it was probably for him, so with slow steps, he edged his way over to the device and pluck it off its receiver.
“Hello?”
“Good afternoon, Imperial,” the voice was distorted by some sort of technology. “You do anything stupid, and your friend over there dies. Understood?”
“Ten-four,” Seventeen replied as he glanced around the surrounding buildings. Jagiellonian Pharmaceuticals was a big building, which meant their sniper was likely either somewhere on the top floors or on the rooftop of one of the adjacent structures. If Seventeen could just pinpoint his location…
“Stop looking around,” the man—if the synthetic voice was from someone with a y chromosome—barked. “Eyes on your friend.”
Damn it. Seventeen shifted his focus to the panicked face of Corporal Harbaugh. Would today’s events shatter the young woman’s resolve to pursue a career in the Empire?
More importantly, why the hell was Seventeen calling people young who were probably barely two years his junior?
“You know how much those hired guns cost?”
Seventeen grinned. “I hope not much. They were awful.”
“Funny guy, eh? You gonna be funny when I put a hole in your chest? Or her chest?”
“Do you plan to spend this entire time sweettalking me, or you got a point to all this?”
The man on the other end laughed—a somewhat unsettling robot chuckle. “Who are you, Imperial?”
“Seventeen.”
“That’s a number.”
“Yea, and it’s my number, Mister…?”
“Just call me B-Money.”
“That’s a dumb name.”
“Well, Mr. Number, I’m the god damn baron of Slo-mo, and your little shit show here just cost me a few easy mil in omnilium. You plan to pay me back for that?”
The machine-hybrid smirked. “I’m sure you’ll make up for it someway.”
“Just be aware, Mr. Number, that you and I will be talking again sometime soon.”
With that, Jagiellonian Pharmaceuticals exploded.