Beyond Sol Bk. 01 Pt. 02

"Here we are," Shara said after a few more minutes. "Best gunsmith in the entire Miladrian system."

"And of course, he's in the dodgy area of town," I chuckled.

"Of course," Shara smirked. "All the best services are in areas like these."

Shara gave me a wink that not even my socially retarded, dumb ass could mistake the meaning behind her choice of words.

I followed Shara into the wide-open doors of the workshop to the sounds of heavy machinery. The spinning lathes and vices looked quite similar to what I'd used in high-school metal and woodworking classes, only far more professional. Sparks flashed from one worktable as a craftsman worked over a sword with a blade about as long as I was tall. The handle was longer than my forearm, and it looked far too heavy for me to lift, let alone swing.

A variety of different species of aliens were in the massive workshop, some working and others shopping. The ones there to spend money were accompanied by a worker in a white, short-collared shirt and leather apron. The aprons were marked with burns, slivers of metal, and other nicks and cuts from their trade, giving each employee a tradesman look that added to their air of confidence and undoubtedly aided in their sales pitch to their prospective customers. But while the men themselves looked dirty and well-worn from their trade; the workshop was pristine. Each steel counter was polished to a mirror surface, and tools hung from boards or sat in racks and tubs on the neatly arranged tabletops and shelves. There was a small pile of metal shavings, dust, dirt, and off-cuts that had been swept into the corner. The strange crescent-moon-shaped broom sat leaning against the wall behind the tiny pile of refuge.

Whoever the owner of this business was, he ran a tight ship.

"Shara, my girl!" a booming voice echoed across the workshop, drowning out the hum and grind of machinery.

"Hello, Gaz," Shara said, her face beaming with a broad grin.

Gaz was a large, muscular man with grey skin like Shara's, but that's where the resemblance ended. Gaz didn't have the white lines or blood-red hair my companion possessed, nor the pure white eyes. He was also much broader of arms, chest, and legs with a squat head and what looked to be no neck.

"I heard you were on station. It's great to see you, my dear," Gaz said, wrapping his thick arms around Shara in a bear hug.

Shara gasped a very unlike-Shara squeal and wrapped her arms around the big man as he lifted her from the ground. "It's great to see you to Gaz."

After Gaz set Shara down, he held her at arms-length, looking her up and down. The gaze wasn't offensive looking at all, more like a father checking to make sure his daughter was still in one piece.

"Have you been eating enough? Quell will insist we have you over for dinner while you're here," Gaz said.

"I have been eating, and tell Quell I'd love to stop by, but only if I can bring my friend," Shara looked over to me, and Gaz seemed to notice me standing there for the first time, almost as if I jumped out from behind one of his machines or slipped in through a crack in the floor.

"Hi," I said, waving sheepishly, not unlike the first time I'd met Shara when she landed, and just like that fateful day, I scolded myself for greeting someone like an absolute idiot.

"Hmmm," Gaz rumbled and shuffled over to me.

His feet were broad and circular, with three large toes, kind of like an elephant. He stopped in front of me and rubbed his chin between thick fingers as he studied me.

"He's a bit small, but then again, so are you," he said after a moment, then his broad face split into a grin. "It's a pleasure to meet yah lad."

Before I could even think to shake the big grey-skinned man's hand, he wrapped me in a massive bear hug as he'd done to Shara. I struggled to breathe as he crushed me against his titanium-like barrel chest for a full ten seconds before dropping me to my feet with a thud. I shot Shara a concerned look as I struggled to suck air into my lungs, but she just gave me an amused smile in response as Gaz laughed and smacked me on the back, nearly knocking me off my feet.

"Nice to meet you too, Gaz," I gasped.

"So, what can I do for you kids," Gaz said in a cheery tone.

I looked over to Shara and noticed she was trying—and failing—to keep an amused smile from her face.

"We're after some new weapons, and I want to see if you can make some custom ammunition," Shara answered finally.

"Well, weapons I can do for yah, the ammo will depend on what you're after," Gaz said, rubbing his broad chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"We have some you can look at," Shara replied.

"Beauty!" Gaz rumbled, slapping his massive hands together. "Step into my office."

We followed Gaz into a smaller room that was chock full of workbenches, tables, and cabinets filled with all sorts of tools, gun parts, blades, and a dozen or more things I didn't have names for. It wasn't really an office since there was no desk or chair, more of a private workshop. Gaz stopped by one of the workbenches and swept his massive hand across the surface, creating a large space for my gear.

"Let me see what yah got," Gaz said, turning to me.

I unslung the rifle from over my shoulder and held the weapon out with both hands. Gaz took the gun, and it looked comically small in his massive hands. He looked over the weapon closely, inspecting the stock, barrel, sights, and receiver before ejecting the magazine like he'd used the gun a hundred times. He placed the rifle on the table and slid a few rounds out of the magazine, and tested their weight before inspecting the shells closely.

"Aye, I can make these," he said after a few minutes. "I'll need to keep the rifle with me for a few days, and I'll need to disassemble half a dozen of these to make sure I have the build right. Otherwise, you'll blow your face off when firing."

"That's amazing!" I said with an excited fist-pump. "You're awesome, Gaz."

"Yah, I know, lad," Gaz said with a broad grin.

"Don't let it go to your head, big guy," Shara said, slapping Gaz on the arm. "We don't want your ego getting any bigger."

"Not possible darlin, I already know I'm the best," Gaz chuckled.

"So, a few days then?" I asked.

"Yeah, I could do it sooner, but the boys and I are swamped with machinery repairs," Gaz sighed. "That bastard Skumo has us doing maintenance on the station's security and emergency drones. Like we don't have enough to do with the auto-cannon upkeep and security staff weapon repairs. You'd think those pricks could look after their own gear."

"How does Skumo have that much power?" Shara asked with genuine surprise.

"The bastard's the new governor," Gaz grumbled.

"Governor!?" Shara almost shouted. "How the...?"

"You've been gone a long while, lass. Things change, and rats like Skumo know how to cheat the system," Gaz sighed heavily. "He greased the right palms, and now he's filling his own pockets from the mining plants, ignoring station up-keep to the point where a small breakdown could mean a catastrophe."

"Something needs to be done about him," Shara muttered. "Why hasn't Zullo done anything?"

"Zullo," Gaz spat the name. "He's so far in Skumo's pocket I'm sure he knows Skumo's cock better than he does his face."

"I shouldn't have left," Shara said, mostly to herself.

"Don't worry your pretty little head lass, just get off this death trap as soon as you can," Gaz placed a hand on Shara's shoulder sympathetically.

"I can't," she replied.

"What trouble have you gotten yourself into," Gaz asked, worry plain in his voice.

"The deal with Deran went bad, and Hagar is pissed," she sighed. "I got away but ended up on a backwater planet before coming here. I have to find a way to get them off my tail before I can leave."

I resisted the urge to defend Earth when Shara called it a backwater planet but decided it best not to interrupt a conversation that was confusing the shit out of me. These two had history and obviously knew the same people, while I was just along for the ride. Shara would fill me in on the details when she was ready, and I wouldn't push the boundaries of our friendship, not yet anyway.

"I won't say I told you so," Gaz said.

"But you told me so," Shara smirked.

Gaz nodded, a look of concern crossing his face. "We'll get through it, lass, we always do."

Shara nodded, then looked at me. I could tell she was feeling a little vulnerable by the look in her eyes. Even though they were completely void of colour, I could still pick up her moods through the white orbs. She had revealed more to me here than she had wanted to—all accidental—and I could tell it wasn't to keep me in the dark. The look on her face told me she was afraid, and it wasn't of this Hagar guy, whoever he was. It was fear of me bailing, leaving her.

Was she really worried I'd skip out on her if I thought there was a gang of bad-guy aliens chasing after her? For starters, I had no idea where I was or how to get home, and even if I could return home, there was a zero percent chance I'd take it. I was the first human ever to leave Earth's solar system, and here I was with an opportunity to explore the galaxy with a beautiful woman. There was no way I'd give any of that up for a bunch of extra-terrestrial goons, even if I weren't infatuated with the gorgeous, grey-skinned babe.

"I'll help any way I can," I said with a nod.

"Thank you," Shara replied with a small smile.

"Well, I better get to work on your gun so that you can protect the little one here," Gaz grinned. "Although having seen her fight, my guess is she'll be protecting your scrawny behind. Not much can take down a Thylonian."

"She's already saved my butt a few times," I grinned.

"And Jason has saved mine too," Shara added.

"Then you two better stick together," Gaz nodded.

Just then, I remembered the pistol at my hip. I needed more ammo for it in addition to the rounds for my rifle. I pulled the firearm out of the holster and gripped the barrel before handing it grip-first to Gaz.

"I'll need ammunition for this one, too," I said.

Gaz took the Glock and rested it in the palm of his hand. He'd never be able to fire a weapon so small with his thick fingers, and I wondered how he did such fine crafting with his mammoth hands. The gunsmith racked the slide and ejected the mag before sliding a few bullets free, then nodded.

"I can do that. These are much smaller, so it should be easier to make them in bulk for you," he said, closing his hand around the weapon until it was completely obscured from sight.

"Awesome, I really appreciate it," I nodded.

"I know yah do lad, but now I have something for you," he grinned.

I followed Gaz to the other side of his workshop, to a table that ran across the entire back length of the wall. The table was filled with an assortment of firearms and weapons I couldn't make sense of, that Gaz seemed to have deemed not worthy by pushing them aside. He pulled a steel box out from under a dirty grey cloth and brushed the dust away with his hand.

"A customer left this," Gaz explained. "He had to leave in a hurry and didn't have the credits to pay for the work I did, so I kept em."

Gaz opened the rectangular steel crate, and I almost expected a blinding flash of light, followed by orchestral harmonies, but there were no ambient loot-box sounds. The box contained two pistols that followed a similar design to many I'd seen on earth. They were about twice as the Glock I'd handed over and thicker, with two barrels. The smaller of the two barrels sat on top of the larger one, and I guessed it took two different ammunition types. The weapons were beautifully crafted, with angled patterns running along the squared sides, and vented slots positioned halfway along the barrel.

"These must be worth a fortune," I said with awed reverence.

"Two fortunes," Gaz chuckled.

"Reaver-X's are as rare as they come," Shara said as she peered into the box.

"Reaver-X?" I asked.

"It's the model, a prototype hand-cannon that never hit the mass-production level because they were too costly to make," she explained. "They're a powerful weapon but more sought after by collectors than soldiers."

I studied the pair of prototype pistols and noticed faint markings near the end of each weapon. The lines connecting the top to bottom marked a faint X on each gun for its namesake.

"I can't take these Gaz," I repeated. "I wouldn't even know how to use them."

"Nonsense," Gaz replied, waving a big hand at me. "You're going to need them to protect Shara, and they're the best weapons I have available."

"He'll draw attention just by having one, but two will be dangerous," Shara added.

"About as dangerous as travelling with you lass," Gaz bellowed.

"You have a point," the grey-skinned woman laughed. "Alright, we'll take them until you have Jason's weapons ready. Can we use your firing range?"

"Of course you can. It's empty right now, so I'll close it down for privacy. The last thing I want is my customers seeing I have two of these," Gaz slammed the box closed and tapped the metal plating. "Follow me."

I followed Gaz with Shara at my side through the busy workshop. A few more customers were milling about the racks by the front door, with more staff rushing about as they fetched tools or equipment for the craftsmen or tended to their clients. Gaz must have been one hell of a weaponsmith to have so many customers waiting on him and his men for their needs, and by the looks of some of the waiting people, they looked to have quite a bit of money.

It was hard to tell in space who was rich and who wasn't since the social trappings of wealth back home didn't apply here, but the ones with three or four armed guards were definitely in the upper-crust class of Miladrian station, other wealthy merchants. Gaz exchanged a few words with employees and clients alike, but he never slowed his stride and moved purposefully towards the other side of the workshop, towards a large set of steel double doors. The doors slid open as he approached and closed hot on my heels, making me jump forward. The workshop's sounds died off as soon as the doors slammed shut, and the absence of noise was as deafening as the clamour of the busy streets we'd walked earlier.

The room we entered looked like a much bigger version of the shooting gallery back on Shara's ship, so I was at least familiar with the layout. There were over a dozen lanes, all with privacy booths to give the shooter protection and reduce the noise generated by the patrons' selected weapons. Just as Gaz had said, every booth was empty.

"Let's see how well yah shoot lad," Gaz said.

He activated one of the middle lanes with a few keystrokes on a nearby console, and the booth lit up. Holographic targets materialized one after the other, leading away from the booth. I stepped up to the table as Gaz placed the metal box down and opened it. He picked up one of the hand-cannons and ejected the slide from the weapon. The slide came away with a hiss of compressed air, and Gaz checked it over quickly before locking it back in place. Four small white lights illuminated along the side of the firearm, and I guessed the slide was a battery pack for the weapon. Once the pack was in place, Gaz loaded a magazine into the grip of the gun and handed it to me.

"The Reaver-X fires an assortment of ammunition, as well as projectile energy bolts," he explained. "This button here will arm the weapon, and this here will change the firing mode."

I studied where Gaz pointed each time, so I knew how the weapon worked. The last thing I wanted was to get shot in the face because the safety was still on.

"What firing modes does it have?" I asked.

"The standard firing mode is your ballistic rounds, which I loaded into the weapon already," Gaz said. "And a high-impact explosive energy blast, powered by the energy-pack".

My interest in the weapons grew instantly when I heard the words 'high-impact explosive', and I was eager to test them out.

"So how do I know which mode it's on?" I asked.

"This light here," Gaz pointed at a small red light beside the grip. "Red means the ballistic rounds are selected, blue means energy."

It seemed self-explanatory and straightforward, so I guessed I could fire these weapons without much issue. After all, I had fired a rifle and pistol without any training what-so-ever and hadn't sucked at it. Maybe I was just a natural with guns.

"Is there a safety switch?" I asked, not wanting to blow my foot off by accident.

"Nay lad, the weapon won't fire without power. If there are no lights, she won't shoot," Gaz explained.

"Does it take long to power up?" I asked.

"Not at all. Draw the weapon and activate it immediately. She'll be ready to put holes in whatever you want by the time you have her aimed," Gaz said.

"Neat," I grinned.

"Well! What are yah waiting for? Start shooting, lad!" Gaz clapped his massive hands together.

I turned to face down the firing lane before me, raised the hand-cannon, and took aim. I took a few deep breaths, then released the first round downrange.

Chapter 10

I left the workshop with Shara at my side, feeling a little more confident in my abilities, even if my shoulder was hurting like a bitch.

We'd spend about an hour in the range, both Shara and I tested out the Reaver-X hand cannons, and we were both impressed by the accuracy and potential damage the weapon could inflict. The ballistic rounds were of a caseless ammunition type, about half the size of a shotgun slug. Gaz explained that the gun superheated the rounds upon firing, causing the slug to all but explode on impact, creating large holes in anything it hit. There was an adjustment dial by the selector switch, which allowed the wielder to change the heat settings on the fly. Higher settings would create more downtime between shots but drastically increased each round's impact damage, while lower settings did less damage but allowed the shooter the chance to pop off multiple rounds much quicker. Each had its benefits and drawbacks, and I'd played with the settings to find a nice balance of the two for everyday use.

The explosive blasts were as fun as I thought they'd be, although they drained the power-pack quite fast. I could let off two, maybe three shots before the pack ran dry. The power supplies were self-charging, but the charge speeds weren't fast and required a good fifteen minutes until it generated enough energy to power the weapon up again. I'd have to use the blasts sparingly if I ever needed to use them at all, but for now, I left one on energy and one on ballistic. Unfortunately, the guns were too large and heavy for me to wield one in each hand, and of course, I had tried.

"They look good on you," Shara said as we trotted down the street.

"Thanks," I smiled at my grey-skinned companion.

I pulled my coat around to hide my weapons from the public view better. Guns were allowed to be carried on the station, but these were rare prototypes that would definitely cause a stir if the wrong people saw them. It was a stroke of pure luck that the coat the original owner had left with the guns was a perfect fit for me. The soft, matte material wasn't leather, but it also wasn't anything I could identify. It fit well—if not a little loose around the shoulders; and hung in a way that concealed the hand-cannons strapped to my thighs without hindering me if I needed to snatch them quickly. I'd spent a little time practising drawing the weapons and realised there really wasn't a quick and effective way of doing it. They were just too heavy and bulky to be efficient. I'd use them for now until I got my own guns back—then Gaz could return them to storage. They were his guns after all.