Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
28 January, 3150
Freyja walked along the street almost gleefully. She knew she shouldn't be so taken with Gunnar Logan, not with all that was going on, but she found it impossible not to think of him. Far from playboy with a lack of brains that she had been led to believe he was, she had come to see a smart, funny, and genuine man.
It couldn't possibly last. He would grow bored with her, find someone new, show his true colors. Things were crazy out here in the Periphery, and life wasn't going to let her get the upper hand, she just knew it. She had to stay focused. Focused on fighting and killing the bastard of a pirate that had attacked her and now haunted her nightmares.
The air was crisp, and she shoved her hands deeper into the pockets of her parka as she walked the distance from Count Logan's estate and the building that Ned Bakker had rented to store the Phoenix Hawk.
Suddenly, a man was running at her from the curb. "Can you help me?! My wife, I think she's hurt!" He gestured to a nearby car where the back drivers side door was open and a figure inside hunched over as if in pain.
Freyja ran with the man over to the car. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"I don't know, she just doubled over and started crying out. I didn't know what else to do, so I pulled over. I hope it's not our baby!" The man gestured towards the back seat of the car. Instinctively, Freyja bent over to assess the situation.
A blow struck her from behind, and the man shoved her forcefully into the car. The woman, who just seconds before had appeared doubled over in pain, sat up and grabbed Freyja's arm, pulling her in, and then slapping some kind of sticky patch onto the exposed flesh of the arm. She tried kicking out the door, but her sense of balance was already swaying into chaos. Within seconds, she had passed out, her struggles ceasing as her consciousness faded away.
Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
30 January, 3150
The Blue Note was the name of the establishment, but Malcolm Connors couldn't find anything blue as he looked around the dingy bar and diner. He had selected it for his meeting with Count Logan because it was just another hole in the wall establishment that would not draw much attention.
Gunnar Logan walked in, suitably dressed down to the point that he would not stand out for his noble background in a place as everyday city streets as the Blue Note. He sat down opposite Malcolm and ordered a cheap beer. "Mr. Connors, I take it?" There was something condescending in his voice, as if looking down on the Warden. Two could play at that game, as Malcolm Connors had a very low opinion of the count. Logan was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, had everything handed to him by way of his name and birth, and languished into the life of a womanizer. Malcolm Connors had worked hard and fought for every rung of the ladder that he climbed.
Well, that was fine, because Connors was now going to make a dropship load of money off of this weak minded fool. He couldn't believe his luck. He had several of his associates grab Freyja McCarron off the street, and truthfully, he was just waiting for the right time to be able to have her killed and her body dumped in such a way that there would be no connection to him. Surely the chaos of the upcoming fight with the pirates would suffice.
But then something remarkable had happened. Gunnar Logan had started putting out feelers and offers of reward money for information on the little blonde problem. Connors was cautious, to be sure, but things had passed the sniff test, and besides, this silly philanderer couldn't really be dangerous, could he?
"Mr. Logan, a pleasure to meet you. I've had rumors come my way that you are interested in a certain girl."
Logan nodded. "The McCarron girl, I wasn't done playing with her and she up and disappeared. There are pirates only a few days from planetfall, and we need mech pilots. Plus, she was a nice diversion.
Connors smiled. "Nothing special, she was just a slave, and one that had crossed paths with me before. You understand, I have ambitions on this world, your grace, and they're not served by playing subordinate to some silly slave girl. I can provide you with another pilot for the mech, if need be. I was more interested in the fact that you put out feelers so quickly to get her back. Surely a nobleman such as yourself, these girls are a dime a dozen. So I realized you had some special interest in her, and thought we could come to some kind of mutually beneficial arrangement."
Gunnar Logan shook his head. "We can haggle over prices and what not, the deal is simple, I buy her back."
Malcolm bit his lip. "Unfortunately, your grace, things are not that simple. First of all, I was trying to get rid of her for my own ambitions. Those ambitions cannot be served by a simple sum of money. Also there is the danger of her opening her mouth and causing complications. I can't have her getting out."
Logan shrugged. "So if you won't sell her back to me, what the hell are we here for?"
Connors relaxed, feeling as though he had now gotten the count off his game, and negotiations would progress more smoothly. "I said that I have ambitions on this world, and if that's to be the case, we might as well be working with each other rather than against. What I'm proposing is a little back scratching. I can't have her getting out, and you want her, so we split the difference. I'll sell her back to you for one night. After that, we dispose of her. Think of the possibilities, your grace. I know you have your pick of the women and all, but there are some limits. Not here. She's going to turn up dead in the morning, so you can do anything you like, your darkest desires fulfilled. I will handle the dirty work of disposing of the body and such. And we begin a profitable partnership."
He could see the wheels turning behind Count Logan's eyes. "What if I just turn this all over to the authorities, then I get my girl without having to pay up to the likes of you?
Connors dismissed the young count's concerns with a wave of his hand. "First of all, you forget, I am a provincial warden. I am the authorities. Secondly, you get dragged through the mud and when all this comes out, I would think your supply of willing young ladies would dry up rather quickly. And I know you wouldn't want that. This all works out for you, your grace. And me as well. Do we have a deal?"
Gunnar Logan thought for a moment, rubbed his chin, and then looked Malcolm Connors straight in the eye. "Let's talk price."
Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
31 January, 3150
Freyja snapped awake as the hood was pulled from her head. She had lost track of time since she had been grabbed off the street, but she guessed it had to have been days. Her body ached. She sat as she had nearly the entire time, feet bound together and hands bound behind the back of the chair. The only times she had been untied were to allow her to use the bathroom and to eat the little food and water that her captors had given her.
This time was different. She recognized the man who had removed the hood this time. Shit. If he's letting you see, then he's planning on killing you. "How's your nose?" she couldn't resist taking a shot at her captor. After all, what more was he going to do? This might be the end of the line for her.
Malcolm Connors grinned. "You think you're funny now? I'm going to be the one who has the last laugh. Just like back in Abercrombie. I told you, you should have learned your place. Now look what you've gotten into."
She blinked away the confusion from the sudden influx of light into her world. "Yes, heaven forbid I should stand up to defend the planet from pirates. Although if it's the likes of you I'm saving, I think I might have changed my mind."
He wagged a finger at her. "Don't be so quick and snotty there. I'll be out fighting the good fight for the people of Lummatii against the pirates in my Hatchetman, but what I won't be doing is fighting under your command. I'll be closer to the one in charge.
"Is that what this is about? Who's in charge? I didn't even see you at the meeting the other day."
He shook his head. "I couldn't get there in time. Had I been there, make no mistake, you wouldn't have been putting up your little mechwarrior in charge act. I know what you are, nothing but a damn slave girl rolled in from one of the pirate raids. I won't have you stealing my thunder, not when I get a chance to prove myself and climb the ladder above that old fool of a Lord Governor we have back home. I get to play the saving hero, and you, little girl, have no part in my story. I'm not going to lose my chance just because you happen to be there are the right time, sucking the damn Count's cock to work your way up into the head of things."
Freyja laughed. "You stupid little bastard. You think that's what this is about? That I'm trying to make a name for myself and cover myself in glory? I just want that pirate dead. And I want to kill him. That's all this is about to me."
He shrugged. "Well, you ain't going to get your chance, little girl. You see, I was just going to wait till the pirates hit, then whack you good and dead, dump your pretty little ass in all the chaos, and who would know anything different. But I got myself an even better deal. Seems that Count you've been riding your way to the top with has developed a taste for you. Offered to pay me a handsome little sum of money to let him have his way with you one last time, before we off you and go on our merry way."
Her mind raced. How could she have been so foolish as to have trusted Gunnar Logan. This was the Periphery, everyone out here was cutthroat. How had she even started to fall for the man. She wanted to scream in rage and frustration, but she refused to give Connors that satisfaction.
"In fact, he should be here any minute. Now, I don't pretend to know what goes on in the minds of these noble types, but I'm sure whatever he has planned for you will be something memorable."
She ran though a million scenarios in her head. How could she have been so wrong about Gunnar? Why had she even bothered to trust him? As she processed these thoughts, the door to the large, open warehouse bay opened and none other than Gunnar Logan himself walked though the door. Even in betrayal she found him striking as he closed the distance to where she and Malcolm Connors had been talking. He was somewhat dressed down, and he wore a long coat with a scarf that she noticed matched the colors of his family crest that she had seen on his estate just days before. Back then, she could have imagined him striding through the door to her rescue. Now he was going to be the end of her silly adventure in the Periphery.
Try as she might, she could not disguise the fear in her eyes as she met his gaze. His own expression was cold, almost matter of fact. This was just a transaction. She was just another toy to him.
"Count Logan, I present to you, your Freyja McCarron, just as we agreed upon. I trust you have the sum we agreed upon?" Freyja couldn't stand it any longer as Connors talked, she looked first to the bag that Gunnar Logan carried, then to the cold ferrocrete floor. "I'm sure you understand the need to keep her here. I'm sure we can arrange for anything that you had in--"
The warden's sentence was cut off midway, and Freyja sensed a blur of motion. She looked up to see Malcolm Connors slumping to the floor, a neat and smoking hole etched in his forhead, and Gunnar Logan holding a large Sunbeam laser pistol in his hand. He was already cleaning up his tracks. he was even more of a monster than she guessed, he had killed Connors to keep the money for himself. Now she was dead, she knew, the only question being how quickly he would grant her death. Would he just kill her here as a loose end? Or would he follow through with what Connors had described, toying with her mercilessly up until her death.
She wanted to speak, to say something, but all she could do was cry. Count Logan quickly ran over to her chair and pulled out a knife, first cutting the bonds at her feet, and then freeing her wrists.
"Freyja, we don't have much time, we have to--" Panic, shock, and fight or flight instinct all kicked in as soon as her limbs were free and she put her hands together and slammed them down in one furious blow to the back of Gunnar Logan's head as he knelt from untying her. She didn't even look back as she sprinted towards the door that the Count had entered from. As she reached the door, sh heard him calling her name, but she ignored it and ran.
She burst out onto the street, or what was more appropriately, docks. The capital was ice bound at the moment and the wide swath of the river was dotted alternately with patches of ice and places where the water still flowed free. She shivered, not having her parka. She had no idea where she was, she just knew she had to run.
"Freyja, wait!" she turned to see Logan sprinting after her. She turned to run again, but lost her footing, dropping a relatively short distance, but into the frigid ice water of the river. Her entire body wracked with the spasms of the shock of the cold, and her instincts betrayed her. Normally a good swimmer, the shock of the ice water caused her to gasp, taking in a lungful of water. She fought, tried to cough it out, but it was no use. She was disoriented. She could see spears of light flashing from all directions in the water, but there was nothing she could do as the blackness closed in on her from all sides.
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