Halfbreed Ch. 09

"Why? You want to steal his golden toilet?"

Mike heard a gruff chuckle over the microphone. "Hardly." Came the modulated reply. "The inner vault can't be opened without the proper clearance. And the only one who can open it is the Chief Executive - or rather, his terminal."

"Fucking Elves." Mike said, staring at the slumped body of the dead guard a few feet away from him. His glassy eyes stared at nothing, his face disturbing in its empty expression. Mike felt like he was about to throw up.

"My thoughts exactly." The Veiled One said. "Time is wasting, get to the elevator at the end of the hall. Take it to the top floor, they'll be waiting for you."

Mike pulled himself to his feet. He cast a last, long look at the bodies before turning away, hurrying down the hallway in an effort to escape the dead man's stare.

The ride in the elevator was a tense, claustrophobic experience. Mike had to steady his breathing, his heart wanting to jump out of his throat. He thought back to that awful memory, years ago, when he had last seen an Elf die.

Nareleon had been one of the few, Elven security guards working at the Goblin Frontier Patrol station orbiting his home planet that Mike had actually liked. He was a nice enough fellow, always nodding at Mike as he passed when the young technician finished his shift in Hangar 12.

The day the Goblins came, Nareleon had been the one to unknowingly greet them as the ramp had opened on their stolen freighter. Mike, working just underneath Nareleon's feet in the tunnels beneath the landing pad, didn't even realize what was happening until the first eruption of gunfire.

Mike had looked up just in time to see Nareleon's body hit the ground, blood spilling through the grating and coating his face in a red sheen. He had huddled there, in that tunnel, motionless with terror as the Goblins slaughtered the rest of the hangar crew. The dead eyes of Nareleon staring at him like a hateful accusation as blood dripped to the floof.

Mike shook his head from side to side, desperate to rid himself of the awful memory. Get it together, He repeated to himself ad nauseam. He couldn't get the image of the Elven blood pooling on the ground out of his mind. Ghosts can't hurt you, but the Loupians can. Focus on getting Aly out of here.

When the elevator doors parted, Mike all but rushed from the deserted interior. He found Allynna and the Loupian waiting for him in front of a tall double door.

The imposing entrance looked as if it had been carved from the living roots of some massive tree that had overgrown into perfect spirals. A shield covered the door with a blue-tinted shimmer, barring access to the would-be intruders.

"About time." The Loupian janitor growled. "The boss is getting antsy. She doesn't want any delays."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to disappoint her, would we?" Mike muttered. He felt Allynna's eyes on him as he trudged over to the panel that directed power to the shield generator, pulling it open without a word as he fiddled with the wires.

Grateful for the chance to distract himself, Mike threw himself into the task of opening the door. It became obvious almost immediately to Mike that the shield was there mostly for show. Any tech-savvy operator would know how to cut its power once they found the juice box, and Mike was well acquainted with the inner workings of Elven engineering. A few quick cuts with his liquid metal multitool, and the shield sputtered out.

The Loupian gangster hurried forward, shoving open the sliding wooden door with a low growl. "Hurry, we need to open the vault."

Mike paused for a moment as the Loupian rushed into the next room. He hunched himself over the panel as he fought back against another wave of nausea. He did his best to make it seem like he was inspecting his handiwork, hoping that the seemingly prideful act would be enough to fool his first mate. It wasn't.

"Are you all right, Michael?" Came Allynna's hesitant query.

"I'm fine," he lied, "how was your trip through the facility? Was being a hoity-toity executive ordering aliens around all it's cracked up to be?"

He felt more than heard her footsteps as they moved up behind him. "I'll admit it has a certain allure," She said with toneless sarcasm. "Though these gangsters don't seem quite as willing as you are to put up with the charade."

Mike managed to fake a smile as he glanced back in her direction. His heartbeat refused to steady.

Allynna's tone grew hesitant. "...Michael?"

"I'm fine, Aly." He lied again. He wasn't even sure who he was lying to at this point. His face felt pale, his hands clammy and his temples caked with sweat. Only the presence of his beloved first mate allowed him to keep any semblance of composure.

"You do not look fine." She said in her blunt fashion.

With some difficulty Mike pulled himself to his feet. "Just a close call with security earlier," He said, doing whatever he could to dodge the question. "I got a bit spooked, is all."

Mike did not know how Allynna would respond to finding out that their heist had already gotten two of her kind killed. He doubted it would end well for anyone involved. The intense look she gave him made it clear she was not fooled by his attempts to divert her.

"What happened, Michael?" She asked in a voice that made Mike's spine tremble.

He shook his head and brushed past her, heading for the Executive's room now that his task was complete.

"Later, Aly." He said, painfully aware of the eyes at the back of his head. Her soft footsteps followed him inside like the lingering guilt in his gut.

They entered into the room, one of the most spacious and opulent places Mike had ever been in. The Executive's Office was a massive, ostentatious example of Elven beauty and elegance all in one. The walls were pristine, almost blistering white. Thin, silver pillars funneled down into the ground in a geometrically perfect series of spiraling circles. They radiated inwards with varying degrees of width and height between them towards the center of the room, creating an almost wavy effect on the eyes.

The office was everything that Fignet's office pretended to be: spacious, welcoming, yet unapproachable in its projection of power. Everything in the room had its place, every art piece and errant color seemed tailor made to draw the eye and please the senses. The room was bare, yet the empty spaces only managed to accentuate The stoic beauty of what was there.

To Mike, it was as if Allynna had been personified into a living space. It was beautiful in its simplicity, complex in its flawless contours, and awe inspiring in its visual richness. Had Mike not just witnessed the death of two Elves, he might have been thunderstruck. Now he just felt sickened by the contrast, imagining red blood pooling on the pale, shimmering floor.

"Check the desk," The Loupian barked, taking one of the priceless paintings and ripping it off the wall in search of a hidden safe, "Controls should be around here, somewhere."

Mike grunted, moving between the central pillars at a brisk pace. His first mate followed along behind him, her reassuring presence calming the rattled smuggler.

They reached the wide desk: a three meter long white stone behemoth, hand carved as if sculpted from a single piece of marble. Atop the beautiful artifact sat a small terminal, alongside a few, carefully collated personal effects.

There were no chairs besides the Chief Executive's for others to sit. This was not a room to conduct business, this was a place of solitude where the Executive could focus on his work.

Mike circled the desk and took a seat in the high backed chair, opening the console. He noted with a certain grim humor that the thing wasn't even password-protected. How typical of Elven design: make the exterior needlessly well defended, but keep the sensitive things unprotected like the golden, gooey insides of an egg.

Mike looked at the console for a long moment, then stood up. "It's in an Elvish script I don't understand." He said. "Aly, can you make heads or tails of this?"

She circled around the table and slipped into the seat, leaning forward as her eyes scanned the strange, curving symbology. She nodded. "It's Acryllni script. Typically only used in the core worlds, and even then only amongst the upper aristocracy."

"So Mr. Chief Executive here is some kind of royalty?" Mike asked.

Allynna spared a glance in his direction. "...More likely he is communicating regularly with someone in the Core Worlds who is."

"Ooooh, fancy." Mike waggled his hands, "So can you read it?"

"Yes." She said.

"I thought it was only for royalty." Mike joked.

Allynna scowled at him. "It isn't. Reading comprehension is not limited to the aristocracy."

"Whatever you say, my Queen." Mike replied, "Are you opening the vault or not?" Allynna huffed.

"-Just as soon as you stop aggravating me." She said, her fingers moving at a blur across the holo-keyboard. Mike grinned, the queasy feeling in his gut abating as he watched the curve of Aly's eyebrow rise with sarcasm.

The Elf re-focused on her task. "...Strange, I wouldn't have expected such an extensive communication history. Most Elves keep their private conversations - even business calls - separate from their work terminals."

Mike glanced at the small assortment of photos and knickknacks spread across the desk, reaching out to one photo in particular that caught his eye. "So he mixes business and pleasure, What of it?"

"I am merely noting the peculiarity." She replied, "it is strange to see an Executive making long-range private communications on a company terminal."

"A mystery for another time." Mike said, looking closer at the photo. For an instant, his heart leaped out of his chest. The woman in the photo...

"Hey Aly," A dumb grin grew on his face, "Check it out: it's you from the future!" He spun the photo around to show her.

The woman in the photo was remarkably similar in appearance to his first mate. Blonde hair, impossibly blue eyes, with a facial expression that could've been ripped directly from a snapshot of one of their numerous arguments on the Halfbreed.

Her body type was different however: she showed the subtle signs of aging that came with a thousand years of life. She was matronly, fuller in the body, with deeper lines in the face. Still, it was an uncanny resemblance.

Allynna spared a long glance at the photo before her eyes flicked to Mike. "That is Senator Yanarys Yn'Iolenna, one of the Matriarchs of my House."

"Is she your grandmother?" Mike teased.

Allynna shook her head. "She is a paragon of House Iolenna: a former Admiral of the Fleet who led the attack on the Goblin Warlords during the Great Genocide. She sits amongst the most illustrious of my kin in the Imperial Senate."

"...So, your great grandmother?"

"Would you prefer I entertain your inane questions, or open the vault?" She said, a thread of annoyance entering her voice as she turned back to her task.

Mike eyed the Loupian as he casually cased - or rather trashed - the room In search of a hidden safe. "Why not both?"

"The vault is opening now." Came the sarcastic response. She pivoted in the chair to face him and quirked an eyebrow. Mike smiled and set down the photo.

He put a hand to his ear, initiating communication with the criminal on the other side of the line. "We are in. The vault is opening now."

"Good." The Veiled One said, "Get to the lower hangar, your loudmouth Orc and I will be waiting."

Mike terminated the line. He gestured towards his Elf. "C'mon Aly, we're headed to the vault."

Allynna stood up from her chair and followed Mike back to the Elevator, leaving behind the increasingly-frustrated Loupian to tear apart the office. As they walked, their footsteps echoed on the stone flooring. Mike made habitual hand gestures with the liquid metal at his wrist, going over the building's blueprint in his mind as he tried to think about anything but what he had just witnessed with the guards.

Mike and Aly stood together in silence, side-by-side as the elevator headed towards the bottom floor, several stories beneath the surface. After a moment Mike felt his Elf's eyes upon him. He glanced at her, and they made eye contact.

"...Penny for your thoughts?" He said.

"What?" Allynna asked.

Mike clucked his tongue. "If you translate that saying to Elf speak, it means: 'Why are you staring at me, Aly?' "

"If you must ask," Allynna said, "I am perplexed why you're acting so flustered."

Mike snorted, watching the buttons on the console light up as the elevator sped down to the bottom floor. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You are being obtuse, non-communicative, and worst of all: distant." Her eyes were a hard thing for him to meet. "I would like to know the reason."

Mike's face softened. "You won't like the answer, Aly."

"I rarely do with you."

He sighed, "Let's just say the Mafia proved their worth, and leave it at that."

"What did they do?"

"Later, Aly. I promise I'll tell you later. But now isn't the time." He turned and met her gaze. They stared into each other's eyes for a long moment. He reached out to touch her cheek. To his marveling delight, she let him.

"Okay." She said, turning to face the elevator doors with an empty expression. And that was that.

The elevator door opened to the massive hangar at the center of the complex. It was a wide, cylindrical tunnel facing upwards towards the sky, with a four heavy starship-hull thick gates in between to allow hover car access into the lower levels as was necessary. The pillar of empty space was large, wide enough for two Halfbreeds to descend side-by-side. Mike and Aly stepped out onto the massive tarmac, where assorted boxes, materials and heavy equipment were strewn about the edges. The ceiling above them opened, revealing the bright lights of a craft dropping down through the tunnel.

Mike shielded his face from the strong air channels caused by the repulsors of the descending transport ship: a lumbering, blocky beast of nondescript appearance. It looked for all the world like a generic transport ship, but Mike's sharp eyes could spot the tiny modifications patched like surgery scars across its body: Larger engines, a shallower draft for ease of maneuver, taller antennae than the standard models. Mike wouldn't be surprised if they were hiding weaponry beneath the shell of the hull either.

The ship descended into the bowels of the facility with a loud, rushing whirr. It blew Mike's cap clean off his head, and sent Aly's cultivated braid spinning about behind her shoulders. Content that they no longer had any need for subterfuge, Mike unzipped his work outfit, revealing his normal clothes beneath, sans the Gelph leather jacket.

The transport came to a rest upon its landing skids, the bulky creature groaning as it plopped down on the single layered Elven tarmac. The rear compartment of the ship opened, and nearly a dozen Loupians in suits spilled out, armed to the teeth with pistols and rifles.

The cockpit lifted, and an automatic ladder extended from the transport to the ground. Mike watched with folded arms as first Lashvara, then the Veiled One clambered out.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Mike called out as Lass was about to climb down the ladder. The eccentric Orc let out an annoyed huff, reached into the cockpit, and tossed his leather jacket down to him. Mike caught it and threw it around his shoulders with a flourish. "Thanks for keeping her warm for me."

"Next time, leave the Elf behind instead." The Orc joked, hopping down to the ground.

The Veiled One strode up to them, her footsteps quick and graceful, but almost jerky in their rapidity. "Are we quite finished?" She asked, her mask flashing an annoyed, orange beetle face. "We are on the clock."

"Now that we're here," Mike said, rolling his shoulders to work out a crick in his neck, "Care to fill us in on what exactly we're stealing from this vault?"

"-And what it has to do with my people." Lashvara said in a low voice, though her intonation made her statement seem more like an accusation than a query.

The Loupian ignored both statements, snapping her fingers and gesturing to her goons. "Senkyn, Chirkash, guard the hangar. No one in or out, and that includes our freelancer friends here. If they come out of the Vault and I'm not with them, shoot on sight." The two nodded. "The rest of you, with me."

Allynna shifted her body language slightly at the Veiled One's words, her knife hand reaching towards her leg. Mike gently nudged her in the arm with his elbow.

"Easy, Aly." He whispered to her, though she didn't change her stance.

Mike, Aly and Lass marched in a line behind the Veiled One, flanked on either side by her ten henchmen. It almost had the feel of being led to an execution, though Mike could not fathom the logic of bringing them into the vault to just kill them, given that he had already opened the door for them, and thus was by now superfluous to the plan.

"Now that you've held up your end of the bargain, I suppose I can give you some answers." The Veiled One said. "Keep in mind that everything I know comes from secondhand sources, leaked information, and a few, well-placed informants. I don't pretend to know

everything going on or the reasons why, but I know enough to hazard a guess."

The party moved past the hanger, through the double-lock vault doors that now stood open to the intruders. They passed beneath the low overhang, moving through a long, chromium plated hallway with a line of thick blast doors on either side running down its length. Each door contained its own, sealed vault. The hallway seemed to stretch towards the horizon, leading into the far distance ending at yet another blast door like the one they had just come through.

"Around 75 years ago, the Elven colony ship Hope of the Exile warped into the Charity system with the express intent of colonizing the planet Charity." The Veiled One said.

"Ukavar." Lashvara muttered under her breath.

"They were shocked to discover that the survey probes that had scanned the system a few centuries before had failed to notice that one of the moons of the planet was habitable as well. Not only that, it was a garden world."

"That is... quite unusual." Allynna said, glancing at the vault doors around them. "The Everlasting Empire's sensors are amongst the most sophisticated in the galaxy."

The Veiled One shrugged, "For whatever reason, they failed. Naturally, an exploration team was sent down to the surface to test the planet for habitability, and to begin a basic cataloging of its major species."

"- At which point, they met my people." Lashvara said, her brow pulling down.

"Yes, and from the reports I've managed to get my hands on, it was quite the meeting." The Veiled One said, glancing back in Lass' direction as a tremulous white grin formed across the blank mask. "The Elves quickly discerned that - despite the remarkable similarities in physiology - Orcs were not, in fact a Seminal species like the Elves, the Humans, or my people. But something different. Something new."

"However, the Orcs were only the second most interesting thing that they found on Votar." The Veiled One quickened her pace, moving up to the secure door at the end of the vault hallway. "Which brings us to this particular vault."

The door opened. Bright, fluorescent lights brought the pitch black room Into a sudden glare.

Piled here and there, stacked in heaps and bundled into thick plastic packaging was a curious, purpleish dust, finer than sugar, but as reflective as glitter. Mike shielded his eyes, Dazzled by the flickering quality of the dust in the light. The room hung thick with a strange, earthy scent mixed with something indescribable, almost like the crackling aroma of a roaring campfire.