"This is Alister. A mercenary like yourself. I trust there is no bad blood between the two of you."
"Not that I know of," Clara said.
"We wouldn't want a repeat of earlier," Theodor said.
"That was…" Not our fault? Unlike Andy? A freak occurrence?
"Eight against one," Alister chimed in without looking up from his meal. There was a foreign flavor to his accent that seasoned his voice with grandioso. "It sounds to me that it was not his fault."
So that was the narrative going around Quadra: Unassuming Mercenary Fends Off Eight Scoundrels Alone. That story would serve her nicely.
"Andy defended himself," Clara said, fiddling with her small silver watch. "But, we aren't looking for trouble."
A young serving boy brought Clara a portion of food. Theodor informed her that they were waiting on the third team of mercenaries to arrive before they started the mission briefing. Clara glanced around the room while she ate, then spotted someone sitting in the shadows. Poised against a velvet chair was a hooded figure draped in a black sheet, cut like a poncho. In their lap, they caressed a necklace of wooden beads. Clara squinted, trying to spot their face beneath the hood–she had never met a Visionary before.
Behind Clara, somebody stomped down the hallway and flung open the door. Ducking beneath the frame, an obscenely muscular person entered the dining room hefting a spear taller than Clara. The warrior was dressed in the tribal garb of the Grizzlies, with tattoos of runes and geometry decorating the tanned flesh of their hands and arms. They had the thighs and chest of a female athlete, yet the broad shoulders and strong chin of a man.
Behind them, a small man with wiry ginger hair and a sharp nose sniffed the air as he entered the room. "Apologies for the lateness, but we're here now, aren't we?"
Theodor rose from his post near the doorway to greet the two newcomers. "I'm glad you made it Sax, Abigail. Meet Alister of the mercenary group Alister's Boys, and Clara. Sax and Abigail are each members of the Grizzlies tribe, specifically their pack is the…"
"Hogs," Abigail finished for him, flexing her bicep to show off a tattoo on her shoulder–two tusks crossed to make an X.
"You're the one with the feisty brother?" Sax, the fox-like man rustled past Clara and took a seat opposite her.
"That's right," Clara said.
"Where is he then?"
Clara's eyes darted around the room. "Elsewhere."
"Clearly. Licking his wounds?"
Clara grinned and raised her eyebrow, staring Sax dead in the eye, remaining silent.
"Quite a disturbance he caused," Sax scowled. "I was lucky enough to have front-row seats." His expression soured. "You won't get away throwing your weight around with us like that."
"Now-now Sax," Theodor said. "Leave the unpleasantries for the job. Sit down, eat, I will explain your task."
Sax began to devour his meal as his companion–the large warrior named Abigail–took her plate over to a settee instead. She walked with an awkward twist of the hips, leaning on her spear slightly for support. An injury, perhaps?
Theodor strode to the head of the table. "Mercenaries, Hogs, your attention please." His classic British accent was at home in the opulent setting. "You may have all been told different things at different times, so I shall start at the beginning. East of our location is a city called Marsay. It was overrun by a strain of zombies during the cataclysm. Generally, the area is avoided, traders and travelers take the long way around, but our cartographers have a few substantiated reports. The Visionaries will share their data with you later." Theodor nodded towards the hooded figure.
"We were recently drawn to the city by one of its buildings," Theodor continued. "A research facility near the coast in an industrial area. Eight months ago, we sent an expedition of specialists, accompanied by a troupe of Harmonies and set up a laboratory there. The operation was running smoothly for a few months, until, it seemed, the zombies caught on to our little project. They started attacking. First as individuals, then in waves. Normally, we have the manpower to defend our assets, however, a recent Fishfolk incursion has stretched our reinforcements thin."
"Fishfolk?" Alister said.
"A species with advanced technology," Theodor explained. "They have expanded on the coastline, attacking our farms, power stations, and nearby settlements."
"How?" Clara said. "How do they breathe on land?"
"There is much about their species which is a mystery," Theodor said. "However, it is not the focus of today's briefing. Your mission lies with the laboratory in Marsay. With Harmony reinforcements scarce, the Grizzlies graciously offered to send a troupe of their own warriors to relieve the scientists trapped behind the city. However, soon after the team reported arriving, communications were cut. We do not know if it is an issue with the power, or a communications array, or perhaps everybody there is dead."
Theodor took a sip from a glass of water, letting the statement settle over the room. Nobody spoke. He removed his top hat and set it on the table, combing his thinning black hair back with his hand, then continued.
"Your mission parameters are… let's say flexible. The best case scenario is that the communications array is simply in disrepair, in which case, you will create a perimeter, see to any wounded, and repair the array, then make contact with us here and follow any orders of any Harmony personnel or associates at the site. If the power is down, it may be an issue with the coastal generator under our control, but our technicians have informed me that that is unlikely to be the case. If the team there is absent, or presumed dead, then your mission is a little more complicated.
"The research which those specialists were performing was of the utmost importance to us. We have reason to believe that they were close to a breakthrough before communications went dead. Therefore, your priority will be to establish control over the facility, open communications with the Visionaries, recover any lost or damaged technology and rescue any personnel. I recognize that these are broad parameters, so let me be clear. The technology and personnel are priority one, namely the lead scientist, Linton."
Theodor handed Clara a printed photograph of the scientist. He was a thin, balding man with pale skin which unflatteringly reflected the camera's flash. He wore small glasses on a small nose with a thick, concerned brow.
"What's the technology then?" Sax said, dipping a wad of bread into the juices of his meal.
"That's classified," Theodor said without turning around, handing out the photographs to the others.
"Go on," Sax said. "Give us a clue. If you want us to be able to sniff it out, we've got to know what it looks like."
"The research facility is located on the top floor," Theodor avoided the question. "I will have coordinates sent to your devices."
"But you're worried about theft," Sax said, flapping his photograph of the scientist. "This Linton completed the research and bolted with the tech to sell to a higher bidder."
Theodor wore a sour expression. "That is one possibility."
"I'm right on the money aren't I?"
"Like I said. That's one possibility. You are required to be flexible. You will be paid handsomely for securing the facility, and rewarded beautifully if Linton and the culmination of his research is returned to us, undamaged."