It is commonly said among mercenaries and traders that it is a cold day in hell when the mistress of fortune abandons you, not because the lack of fortune itself is a bad thing, but because such an ugly break-up often attracts the mistress of misfortune, the mistress of fortunes older, uglier and considerably more controlling sister.
"What was it again?... 'Your only remaining options are Jack and shit, and Jack just left town'."
After Mike's (brief) stint with the not-so-well-known mistress of rage-filled insanity, they had had an intense one night stand, but now Mike was so over her as he had found his true love: the mistress of sound reason-
"No, that's just stupid... What the fuck is going on here?"
Finding himself lightheaded, Mike realized he was still in a hard vacuum, having still not entered the station propper the limited amount of oxygen and build-up of carbon monoxide inside his suit was starting to cause issues.
(For fucks sake Mike, let's focus on not getting ourselves killed after all that trouble with the pirates.)
Finding an airlock Mike buzzed himself in, as the airlock pressurized sound from the outside started gradually returning along with the atmospheric pressure. As the airlock finished cycling a generic announcer welcomed Mike to the station, hoping he would enjoy his stay. Flipping a few switches on the neck of his vacuum suit, Mike twisted his helmet to unlock it as he got the first taste of the asteroid base's life support system.
"Ark, smells like charred meat and metal… But at least it is breathable."
Attaching his helmet to a hook which extended from the 'belt' part of his vacuum suit, as the inner door of the airlock finally opened Mike was greeted by densely packed shops catering to the meagre number of travellers who came through the station.
(Let's see… A bar, contraband shop, another bar and a brothel? Makes sense, although those kinds of establishments weren't modelled in-game for a very good reason.)
Making brief eye contact with one of the girls outside the brothel, Mike finally spotted the console he was looking for in the corner of his eye.
(There we are, but why did it have to be right next to that kind of establishment…)
Doing his best to ignore the girl's invitation, Tom walked over to the cartographers guild console where he sold off his exploration data for the grand total of 702 credits.
(... It seems like the prices here are a bit different compared to interstellar online, but 64 extra credits aren't going to make that much of a difference.)
"Hey mister, why don't you spend some time with little me?~"
As the girl approached Mike he did his best to put on a natural-looking expression, but it turned out to be nothing more than a wry smile.
"I'm sorry, I think you've radically overestimated my current liquid assets."
"Your what?"
Flashing his wrist-mounted display to the girl, her mood rapidly soured.
"Tch, don't go around wasting my time then."
Having rid himself of a temporary nuisance, Mike started seriously thinking about his future prospects. Even with an optimistic outlook, Mike's prospects were grim. He might be able to sell his vacuum suit and personal firearm for a shuttle to a more populated station, but doing so would wipe out all avenues to make credits so it would defeat the purpose. There was also no way Mike would ever earn enough credits to restart his life by becoming a dock worker or miner, those kinds of jobs paid minimum wage, and if anyone was even willing to hire an outsider Mike would most likely die in some sort of work accident within a few years.
(In that case, my only option is 'that'... 'That' could work, let's go with that option.)
Coming up with an idea that had a very high chance of getting himself killed, Mike breathed a deep sigh as he started walking near-aimlessly through the upper levels of the asteroid station. Walking around the upper levels, Mike found a lot of shoddy shops and brothels which attracted a bunch full of lowlifes, just not the kind he was looking for.
(... There we are.)
Finding a particularly filthy bar which the locals seemed to avoid, Mike walked in like he owned the place, taking note of the armed thugs and security cameras inside.
"We're closed kiddo, go somewhere else."
(Of course, you are, this only looks like a bar to fool the local security forces.)
Ignoring the outright dismissive bartender, Mike nevertheless sat down at the counter and was soon enough surrounded by thugs.
(Now to see just how dumb these guys are.)
Tapping away on his wrist-mounted display for a few seconds Miked formed a thin smile before showing the bartender what he was looking at.
"Your cybersecurity here really needs an upgrade."
In just a few seconds Mike had hacked into the bar's security system, granting him full access to the surveillance cameras of not only the bar, but also the illegal gambling, slave den and drug manufacturing operation hidden behind it.
"For an operation of this scale you guys really are shit, is that a problem with frontside-management or are you guys just incompetent?... But then again, clustering your operation like this suggests the latter rather than the former, or maybe it is both?"
"Fucking brat! Hey! Kill this guy!"
As Mike had suspected the 'bartender' was the said frontside-management for said establishment, meaning it was his job to keep what Mike had just done from happening. Calling on his thugs as his face went red with a mix of rage and embarrassment, the bartender reached under the bar for a hidden shotgun, only Mike was way faster than him.
"Hey I'm just offering my advice here, no need to get violent here, doing so will end very badly for you."
Having drawn his own weapon in anticipation of the bartender's action, Mike pressed his favorite handgun to the now very pale bartender's face.
(A headshot from this range is a guaranteed one-shot, or at least it was in-game.)
In interstellar online Mike's usual strategy for first-person shooter segments of the game would be shoot first, don't talk later, but even if he killed everyone here it wouldn't be that beneficial for Mike at the moment.
"H-hey! Waste this-"
"Nah, any of you guys even think about moving and I blast his face off, I'm just here to talk."
Cutting off the bartender's barking, Mike turned his pistol slightly as he went from a two hand grip to a one hand one, using his free hand to cover the eventual blood spatter that would make a real mess in a moment.
"O-okay, calm down, if you want the cash just take it!"
Realizing how serious Mike was, the bartender broke as he pointed towards the cash register beside him.
(... That was a mistake.)
"Like I said, I just want to talk. If I wanted credits I would have just skimmed your systems."
"Oi, what the fuck is going on out here?"
As the situation started to become volatile a particularly burly man emerged from one of the back rooms, clearly higher up in the food chain than the bartender, the bartender turned even paler than he already was.
"T-this is!-"
"I wasn't talking to you, worm, shut your mouth unless I ask you something."
Seeing the burly man take complete control of the situation, Tom lowered his pistol (although it remained pointed at the bartender) and inspected the newcomer. Standing about two heads taller than Mike himself, the burly man wore a dirty gray tank top and a pair of filthy jeans that he had stuffed with a handgun. His bald head was packed with tattoos and scars and exposed arms showed clear use of synthetic steroids along with cybernetic augmentation.
"I was just offering up some advice and then this guy suddenly wanted to kill me. I quickly noticed how shoddy this place's security is, so I'm here to offer my services."
"Shoddy in what way exactly?"
Proving quite a bit more intelligent than the bartender, the burly man sat down next to Mike with a serious look on his face.
(This is my chance, time to impress.)
Mike had by the process of elimination quickly figured out that the fastest way to earn credits in his current situation would be to work for a criminal organization, something he was quite used to doing in interstellar online. Being a simulator game in the vein of a MMO RPG, Interstellar freely allowed players to play in any way they wanted, this included becoming a saintly bounty hunter or even a member of the security forces, but also working with criminal elements doing everything from drug running to assassinating local officials.
"Your current security is shit. I was walking around running an automatic cracker on my suit when it breached your entire network in just a few seconds, see? I even have control of all your camaras at the moment."
Showing the burly man his wrist mounted display Mike formed a thin smile when the man wrapped his arm around Mike's back.
"And, what were you planning to do with this sort of data?"
"Nothing at all, I don't work for free. But as I'm currently looking for a gig to earn some credits I figured I might as well offer my services, after I did that you already know the rest."
"So you're a mercenary?"
In Interstellar online, mercenary was shorthand for a player character. Affiliated with a guild or a complete freelancer, being a mercenary freed players of Interstellar online to do whatever they saw fit from a lore perspective.
"Yeah, although I see myself as more of a freelancer. Over the past few years I've had a lot of fruitful and mutually beneficial partnerships with a lot of outfits like this one, so I consider it one of my specialities."
"..."
Staring into Mike's unflinching eyes for a bit, the burly man eventually let go of him before standing up. Walking over to one of the thugs, the burly man grabbed his pistol and turned around, promptly emptying the clip into the bartender.
"It seems a spot just opened up in my establishment, come with me kiddo."
"Sure boss."
Although some people might detest working for criminals, Mike had no such qualms in Interstellar online, in fact he often found it was more fun smuggling and other contraband drugs than just doing normal cargo runs, and provided you knew what you were doing it paid far better than honest work. Right now the only thing that mattered for Mike was earning credits fast, if he had to do that by running slaves or flooding a prison colony with drugs then that's what he would do.
"Plant your ass here and wait."
Leading Mike into a VIP backroom with a raised stripper pole surrounded by a round couch, the burly man left as Mike did what he was told. Settling into the way too soft couch Mike holstered his pistol as someone knocked on the door. Briefly thinking about taking out his pistol again, Mike decided against it as a very scantily dressed woman with a tray of glasses and hard alcohol entered. Placing her tray of goods on the raised platform, the woman sat down way too close to Mike before she poured him a drink. The woman had long black hair with deep red eyes and lips, very well endowed, she for some reason wore a black dress that Mike might have confused with underwear if not for the fact that it was a single piece. There was no doubt about it, this woman was merchandise and that proved to be a problem.
(This… Might be an issue.)
Mike was well aware of what was happening, but being aware of what was happening and dealing with it the correct way when his body wasn't exactly cooperating was two separate issues. Although he enjoyed going to the gym and moving his body in general Mike was aware he was a nerd, being the kind of person that would rather stay home and game rather than going out drinking. In other words, Mike wasn't that good at handling women, especially scantily clad women that were pressing their body up against him as they poured him a drink with an extremely seductive smile on their face. Just a random example really.
"I hope this is to your liking."
Speaking in a slightly deep, cooing voice the woman ozzed sex apeal as she poured Mike an entire glass of hard alcohol, then to seemingly continue her assult on Mike's sanity she moved even closer to him as if desperate to share the warmth of her body with him.
"If it isn't to your liking I'm sure we can find something else to do~"
Half whispering directly into Mike's ear, the woman's voice seemed to be laced in warm honey which seemed to overflow and mix with her perfume before overflowing onto Mike's face.
"Now I'm sure that'll be fine for now."
Using all his will and remaining sanity points, Mike took the glass that he was offered before taking a large swig of it. Immediately Mike's mouth was filled with a burning sensation that quickly spilt over into the taste of burning tires and wood smoke. Mike had expected it to be strong alcohol, but this tasted like something a few levels above that, at least 60% if not even stronger than that.
"Arg- Holy shit this sure is something alright!"
Half coughing, half gasping for air as he felt it burn all the way down, Mike's expression appeared to have been outside the woman's expectations as she started laughing.
"Ahaha!~ It's not smart drinking that much at once you know~"
"Yeah, I kind of figured that out already, but thanks for the warning."
Still coughing and fighting the burning sensation that spread throughout his body Mike felt his face starting to heat up as the women continued laughing, it seemed she genuinely enjoyed Mike's suffering.
"Sorry for the wait, let's do some business."
After some time, the burly man, Mike's new boss, returned to the VIP room and planted himself in the couch on the other side of the raised platform/table. As he did, the woman quickly moved over beside him and fished out a cigarette from god knows where and lit it up.
"This is my business associate Molly, she handles the gambling and girls here."
"Nice to meet you kiddo~"
Offering a lazy wave after her introduction it seemed that the woman, Molly, wasn't merchandise but part of management instead. It seemed the way Molly had messed with Mike had been part of her assessment of him, judging by how satisfied her smile was it seemed that he had passed.
"You can call me Adam, or just continue with 'boss', I don't care either way. Out front you talked about cybersecurity, what would you do to fix up our system here?"
Jumping straight into business as Molly poured him a drink, Adam appeared to also be testing Mike in some way.
"Well, without seeing your mainframe first hand it would be hard to say but I don't think there's any need to mess with that, so I would focus on the software side of things. Other than that I have experience in moving and cleaning-"
"Don't get ahead of yourself kiddo, I still haven't decided if I should just throw you in the trash compactor yet."
Starting to radiate bloodlust it seemed Adam wasn't that pleased with how frank Mike was acting.
"Come on Adam, throw the kid a bone, there's no way he's an agent. No one would send someone as easily flustered as him into the field."
"... Then we'll start off with a test, follow me."
"Have fun~"
Thrusting the words of his business partner, Adam abruptly stood up and emptied his glass before signalling Mike to follow him. Doing as instructed, at first, Mike wondered why Molly didn't follow them, but as he was led deeper into the den he quickly figured out why.
"This guy has failed to pay us in time, take care of him."
Finding himself inside what seemed to be an improvised prison, Adam pointed to a naked man covered in bruises that were chained to the floor. As the man heard what Adam said, his face paled as he realized what was about to happen.
"Adam please, I just need-"
"Sure you do."
Cutting the man short as he drew a knife from his vacuum suit, Mike showed zero hesitation as he grabbed the man by the hair before plunging his knife into his eye socket, twisting the blade after he had reached the maximum depth.
"... I was sure you were going to shoot him."
Understandably at a bit of a loss for words, Adam was nevertheless a bit impressed with his newest underling.
"Well, I don't want to waste ammo unnecessarily."
"That's fair, I guess."
(No reason to pity an NPC that was going to die anyway.)