The Barbarian thanks you, brothers!
Update Six (Episode One)
'Yes, I am looking for a man who calls himself Rivera,' you confirm reluctantly. 'It is strange to me that you would know that, Leraje. I do not believe I saw you there, during the meeting with Elias.' There is something very unsettling about this conversation - and the situation as a whole. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand tall.
'Leraje does not believe he
was there, lawman,' he responds, chuckling. 'But Leraje has his ways. In any case, Leraje must know, why are you hunting Rivera?'
Another momentary pause hangs in the air, as you decide that you will once again be best served by the truth.
'... To kill him.'
'This is... interestin' to Leraje... Very interestin', mahn. A lawman who is lawman-no-more falls from the sky - like so much mana - to kill the unkillable Rivera. Why, mahn?' Leraje cocks his head to one side.
'I have my reasons. Why do you want to know?' Your tone is remotely threatening.
'Leraje has
his reasons, mahn. You could say that Leraje is deeply inquisitive.'
Your patience is wearing thin. 'So, what now?'
Leraje mulls something in his mouth. 'Now, you thank all your lucky stars, mahn. Because Leraje will give you a helping hand. And that is no common t'ing on this world, bredda.'
You shuffle in place. 'How will you help me, Leraje?' A second, unasked question also looms large in your mind:
Why will you help me, Leraje?
'Leraje will tell you something, mahn. For free. And you can take it or leave it, bredda. That is up to you.'
'... I'm listening.'
'Rivera... He a hard mahn to find. Very famous, but very hard to find. Elias lied when he said he didn't know of him, mahn. You probably knew that already, though. Rivera is well known to all those who
should know of him. Anyway, mahn, you need to get to Grange. It's a ways from here. There, you'll find Deadhand. Stone cold killer, bredda, from the old days. But he knows people who know Rivera real good. Ask around, you'll find old Deadhand... dead easy.' Leraje smiles. 'Up to you how you get him to make like a bird.'
'I am very short on trust these days, Leraje.'
'Then don't trust, mahn. If you happen to find yourself in Grange, mebbe you remember this conversation. Mebbe you have a look, discreetly. You might find something of Rivera in Cortica, bredda, tru'. But all roads lead to Grange, when Rivera's on the mind.'
Your stare hardens. 'Who are you, Leraje? Who are you, really?'
The only response is a chuckle in the dark. 'Leraje? Leraje is nobody, mahn. Jus' an interested party, at an interestin' time. And mebbe, jus' mebbe, Leraje does not care for Rivera. Leraje, as you say, has his reasons.'
'Grange... Deadhand... Alright. I do not suppose you would be willing to show me the way.'
Leraje shakes his head, slowly and definitively. 'Leraje has his place, mahn. For now, it is here. But... Leraje
will surely see you around, bredda.' That said - rather ominously - the tracker turns away without another word, and briskly walks around a nearby corner. You consider following him for a moment, but there really does not seem to be much of a point. Instead, you look around, wondering how much attention your conversation garnered from the locals.
Not much, as it turns out. You notice that the old man with the shattered xylophone ribcage is dead. His heaving had stopped some minutes previous. Sighing, you take out your rosary. And then you continue your early morning exploration of Iris. There is still time before your rendezvous with Kindra.
***
Hours of relative tranquillity pass by. Iris is everything you expected it to be. A filthy ditch where virtue lives precariously and on borrowed time. All in all, it is exactly what it has been made to be. You quickly confirm much of what Kindra has told you, during your impromptu tour of the facility. There is a lone sandskimmer being readied at a makeshift loading dock along the outer ring. It is a large, canvas-topped hover vehicle, seemingly able to transport significant quantities of processed rare minerals across some distance. And it
is guarded by Elias' men. Fortunately, the quality of the sentries is not top tier, strictly speaking. One is a middle aged, rotund man armed with a chemical rifle. His teeth are almost completely rotted. Another is a gangly youth with what looks like a fleschette pistol. During your clandestine observation of the deadly duo, your old friend Rodriq from Elias' throne room joins them, making it three. For the most part, this motley congregation just sit at a rickety table near the sandskimmer, playing cards and telling bad jokes.
The plan begins to come together in your head, and you eventually decide to circle back, in order to meet Kindra at the designated time and place. It is not a long trip, and you reach the rendezvous point by nine o'clock, well before the scheduled meet-up. Then you patiently wait for her to make an appearance. The corridors of the complex are nearly empty at this time of day, and you notice few wandering souls in the quasi-darkness.
***
Redemption in Dub - Bill Elm and Woody Jackson
Soon, however, your dust speckled chronometer tells you that it is now ten o'clock, and there is still no sign of Kindra. You begin getting anxious. Another quarter of an hour passes before you find yourself considering the likelihood of outright betrayal. Before you have a chance to ponder the implications thereof, however, you spot trouble skulking your way. Four armed men are moving in your direction, through the corridor, trying to stay very quiet. Your ocular implants have no trouble discerning them from the surrounding shadows. Their firearms are drawn. The training kicks in immediately.
You draw your needler and hastily retreat into an adjoining passage, in order to prepare a counter-ambush. The targets will now have to cross your line of sight, before reaching the meeting spot. Within a minute, they are about to do so. The men are walking in a U-shaped formation, and as they are about to move past your hiding spot passage, the right point-man of the U peers in, dutifully checking for threats. He finds one, in the form of your needler, pointing squarely at his forehead. You squeeze the trigger, and the quaintest
thwoop sound heralds the point man's brains evacuating through the back of his head. The left point man is the lucky recipient of much of his friend's grey matter, right across his torso. As your first victim falls backwards, you are already squeezing the trigger again.
Thwoop, thwoop. The left point man takes hits to the cheek and temple, and much of his face disappears. Before even the first body hits the floor, however, you are already swinging your arm around the corner. Your uncanny speed and the total surprise achieved by your counter-ambush is reflected in the dumb, mouth-agape look both of the remaining combatants give you. With a tiny flick of your thumb the needler is set to burst-mode, and the first burst punches a series of holes in one of them, extending from his stomach to his forehead. As the last living combatant wildly swings his shotgun over to fire at you with a yelp, a charged needle strikes his shoulder, cleaving muscle tissue and destroying his ability to hold the weapon, which he drops immediately.
He sinks to one knee, clutching the terrible wound with his good arm and screaming. You sprint over, clamp your hand over his mouth and put the barrel of your needler against his chest.
'Shut up! Shut up... Close your fucking mouth!' You order the bewildered thug. Somehow he complies, as tears stream down his face and onto your fingers. He whimpers.
'I am going to ask you one time: did Elias send you?'
The man nods, fitfully.
'Good. Now, you are going to tell me how he found out. I am going to move my hand so you can speak. If you shout, scream, or otherwise fuck with my situation any further, I will kill you. Instantly. Do you understand what you are being told?'
He nods again. You release your grip.
He gasps for a moment, before gritting his teeth and answering. 'Elias... caught that bitch... tryin' to run... had him some fun... she told him...'
'What is your name?'
The young man gives you a puzzled look. 'It's... it's Joseph...'
'Is she still alive, Joseph?' You ask the heavily bleeding bravo.
He nods. 'I... I think so... last I saw... she was...'
'Are you telling me the truth, Joseph?'
He nods, once again.
'Thank you.' You pull the trigger.
***
Do you... effect a rescue? You need Kindra's knowledge of local custom and geography. You also feel a little responsible for her current predicament. Maybe.
OR
Do you... head to the sandskimmer and take your chances? One of the locals will likely know where Cortica is, in any case, and you are a persuasive individual. You owe Kindra nothing.