Finally. The day they were going to move out to retrieve that mysterious case had finally come. Vindril was feeling too ecstatic and preoccupied to think about the dangers he was going to face in just a matter of hours. And how could he not?
During the course of those weeks, he had approached all the people he had mentally pointed out to recruit into his little band of adventure seekers. And just like he had initially feared, things had not unfolded as easily as had initially hoped.
While most of them had agreed to join up under a pretext or another, usually after some bargaining, a couple of people had flatly refused. Ar was one of them. Not that Vindril had hoped for the best with that one. After the few interactions he had shared with them, he had quickly pointed out that they were more of a lone wolf type than a team player. A pity. He was sure that they would have been a great addition to the crew. Still, inside the secure place of his heart, he still hoped that they would eventually change their mind. He knew how…unlikely that was, but he still did anyways.
The other person that turned him down kind of shocked him. The moment he had proposed his idea to Warbren, he had almost convinced himself that there was no way he would refuse such a tempting idea. After all, it was a unique chance to even lay his hands into something as rare as that star ship was. Sure, he maybe had omitted the part where the vessel was operated by an A.I. instead of a regular I.V., but it was not like Warbren could tell right away. Precautions had been taken in order to keep the maximum secrecy possible on those dangerous details.
But Warbren, even if clearly conflicted with himself, had refused. Obviously, Vindril had initially tried every damn tactic he knew to convince him. He even tried offering complete freedom to modify the ship as he saw fit. But none of that worked, so he reluctantly let go of the idea.
It has to be said however, that a few days later after those events, his friend and owner of Mach I, had informed him that the ship was ready. Only the minor details remained to be finished, but that was a job that would have not required more than a couple of days.
Finally! FINALLY!
To say that he had been ecstatic, would have been putting in lightly. Every single pore, every single fibre of his body had vibrated with such an energy that he feared having a heart attack. Still, there was still a little problem that had still not addressed: The A.I.
While the engines, the computers, and every other component of the vessel, from the tiniest to the biggest ones, had been thoroughly tested and approved for active operation, that particular piece informatic artifice had not been even touched. To his knowledge, the people tasked with it had just made sure to properly connect it to the server room and to the main source of power. Whatever, it functioned or not, that still remained to be seen.
He sighed. Now that was a problem. What was the point of asking around, trying to form a crew that could take on every challenge thrown their way, if the thing responsible for their safe travels at ultra-light speed was an unknown?
But now hardly was the time to ponder about that.
Vindril was sweating his ass out. He, and all the people hired by the Empire, were now traveling towards a rendezvous point just outside the exclusion zone inside some closed heavy-duty carriers. Now, under normal circumstances, that wouldn't have been a problem. Heavy duty carriers were long vehicles used to transport goods on short-medium distances all around the planet that just used some sort of cloth to shelter the goods from the intense heat. Very rarely were fully covered carriers used, if at all.
Guess which vehicle were they on? Yep. The fully covered one.
The heat inside that metallic container was unbearable. To be honest, Vindril felt like he was inside an over, being slowly cooked to perfection inside his trusty leather jacket. Just a little of salt and rosemary and he was ready to be served.
Jokes aside, it really was a damned test of will power and constitution to resist such oppressive heat. Vindril had to wonder how Ar, who was seated right next to him, was keeping up with such a thing while donning his persona in a thick layer of armor. The heat inside there must have been unbearable. So how in the hell were they remaining composed, like it was just a walk in the park? Vindril suspected, for the briefest of moments, that Ar was somehow able to shrug off such intense heat off thanks to some cooling function hidden in their armor. It was a pretty common thing to have those kinds of heat/cold functions built in that kind of protective gear. However, no matter how much Vindril stared at that piece of protective gear, it looked like it didn't have of those functions built in. It was obvious then that they were enduring the heat like everybody else. Just…how?
Vindril had to admit it. The more time he spent with them, the more a feeling of respect and admiration grew. It was one of the many reasons as to why he wanted them to join the crew to begin with. He just couldn't understand why they weren't interested in his offer. What was so unappealing about traveling the galaxy with him? Was it perhaps the fact he was the one in charge of it? He shrugged. No point thinking about things that couldn't be changed. It was just a waste of time and energies.
Instead, it was wiser to check his gear, just to make sure those fickle imperial hands had not touched, or god's forbid, broken, anything.
Without any sudden movement that could have caused a spark big enough to ignite the already tense mood some of his companions were in, Vindril pulled his thermal gun out of the holster he wore around his belt, beside a couple of extra magazines and a minuscule transmitter Yurian had given him to contact him securely. Immediately, his eyes picked up a problem. The micro power cell inside the handle was disconnected. He cursed out loud. Good thing he had noticed in time, or he would have died for sure! After all, without the power cell, most weapon were just a heavy piece of metal.
Fortunately for him, that wasn't quite the problem. Vindril was quite good with his hands, and weapon maintenance was one of the many skills he had picked up during his journeys. Not that he had any choice for that matter. It was either like that, or he would have been forced to say goodbye to his only fire arm the moment something broke.
As his right hand quickly made short work of the mechanism protecting the power cell, thanks to the trusty set of tools he always carried along with him, just like his white jacket, he pondered why it was even disconnected to begin with. Even if he and Ar strongly suspected they were making their way into a carefully woven trap, where their "companions" were going to turn on them, he couldn't comprehend who could have had access to his beloved gun. Throughout all the time spent at the Academy, the weapons of everybody had been carefully stored away under the watchful gaze of some guards. They would have never allowed anyone to retrieve anything, not even a speck of dust, if they had not received the order to do so. It was therefore obvious that someone from the Empire was involved. And Vindril just knew who that one might be.
Now those fuckers had done it. Manipulating anything in his possession was akin to the gravest offence. And just like the knights of old, he was going to repay such an insult in equal measure.
Just they wait…
//////
He really should have known it wouldn't be an easy job. The information he had at his disposal clearly pictured the Plains of Desolations as a hellish place, where all life was deemed to die if left exposed to those harsh conditions. But he had always though, to his better judgement, that those statistics had been pumped up to secure those lands, perhaps to conduct some kind of operation, or experiment of some kind. It wouldn't have been the first time a thing like that had happened in the long and turbulent history of the galaxy. The examples were just way too many to count. He had to admit it, though. He was wrong. Heat waves, among other things related to the extreme heat, were happening all around him, making the desertic scenery in front of him look even more dead and intimidating. And if the wasn't enough, he could perceive toxic clouds in the distance. Fortunately, the person who had greeted them, if a simple nod with his head could be described as such, provided them with some worn out masks that were going to come in handy if they ever needed to cross near those clouds. Those were heat shields. He also handed out some small, portable devices: those wear heat shields.
Now, most people might have wondered why those things had not been handed out sooner. Well, it was just a matter of viability. Simple as that.
"Do not lose those devices-" said the man in front of them. Or perhaps it was a woman? Nobody could clearly tell. Not that they cared about it. The pay they were going to receive at the end of it all was the only thing in their minds. "-if you wish to survive this intense heat long enough to carry out whatever the hell you need to, that is. Though I suppose it's none of my concern. Anyway, stay close to me and don't utter another word after I signal you. The pirates have tracing devices all over their camp. Now, move! I don't have time to waste with you all."
Everybody who was paying attention simply nodded. The others, perhaps the overly confident ones, paid him no mind whatsoever.
The person turned around and began walking in a straight line, carefully avoiding the few bumps there were on the dusty and dry ground in front of them. Everyone quickly trailed behind, like they were a sort of mother goose. Vindril smirked. Truth to be told, he couldn't help but find that whole situation to be ridiculous. Who in their right mind would have ever thought they would find themselves in that kind of situation?
"…Are you ready?" asked Ar in the same distorted voice as usual.
Vindril turned slightly to the right. There, right beside him, holding a gun in a tight grip like they were expecting someone to try and take it from them, there was Ar. Sorin instead was walking all alone, without even sparing him even a side glance.
"Yeah. My Mary is ready to spit some hot metal."
"…Who's Mary?"
"Why, my gun of course!" he said as if it was something completely normal. Maybe he was even a little taken aback by the doubtful gaze he could perceive coming from Ar, beside the helmet they were wearing.
"…Forget I said anything."
"Why? Aren't you cur-"
"No."
"Not even a little bit?"
"No." they said with a tone of finality to it. "Besides, this is hardly the time or the place to be discussing that kind of…thing."
They drew near Vindril, dropping their voice to a barely audible whisper.
"The Empire isn't planning to pay a single credit for this thing. Quite the opposite. They plan to exploit the greed much of our…colleagues have shown, and take the crate for themselves after all of us are dead and gone. Quite the plan, I have to admit. It's a win-win for them. For us, instead…"
"What? How do you know-"
"…I have my way of obtaining things. Just like you, no? I'm sure that is why you've been so…interested in me. Besides, this can't be a surprise to you. After all we've seen, this is exactly the kind of things I've been expecting to face. Good thing I'm always prepared for anything."
Remembrance made Vindril's eyes shot open. "Speaking off…you should check your weapons. My gun was tampered with."
"They did the same to me. What a bunch of fools…"
"So now what? I'm not leaving emptyhanded. I need that money. Or something of equal value."
"Don't we all. Listen, what you'll do or won't do is not my problem. But unless you have a way to leave the Empire's space, which is a pretty hard to do if you didn't know, you can kiss goodbye to any chance of that happening."
Vindril smirked. A reaction that seemed to confuse and shock Ar. "I have a ship."
"…You've alr-"
"Yes. But you don't know what kind of ship I have."
They shrugged. It was barely noticeable, but they still did it.
"I fail to comprehend how knowing that is going to solve anything."
"Because my ship is fast. Unbelievably fast. I'm sure she can get us to safety as long as we manage to board it and fire her engines up. Also, the Empire currently doesn't have any interceptors in the area around Keelo Prime. If we board my ship, we can safely get away."
This time Ar almost laughed. "…You cannot be serious. You plan to escape the planet with a single ship? Tell me, how are you going to evade the planetary defences, even in the remote chance we get to try such suicidal thing?"
"Even if they try their best, the planetary station of Keelo Prime is hardly equipped with the right starships to tail us. Trust me on this. I'm sure my plan will work out."
"…"
Vindril groaned. Apparently Ar wasn't believing any of that. "It's a Silver Death, alright."
There. He said it. Against his better judgment, he spat it out. It would have been wiser to keep quiet about that small detail, which was not so small after all; but he just didn't want to lie to Ar, even if they still ended up not teaming up with him. He didn't know why, but he felt like he could trust them, no matter what.
"…You must be taking me for a fool." Ar said. "All model WXR-OD28 ships have either been destroyed or decommissioned. Not even a single one is left. You better star…No way…You're serious…"
"Of course I'm serious! Why would I joke about that?!"
"…"
"What?"
They sighed. "I can't decide if you're crazy, or you're completely mad."
Vindril smirked. If he had a screw loose, he was proud to have it. "Now you finally understand why I'm confident. Trust me. We'll be able to escape without any problems."
"…We'll see…"
For the rest of the journey, nobody uttered another word. It wasn't like there weren't things that needed to be addressed.