The Hook

 

                    Here is the hook for the first story that's burst into my head in quite a while. There's a lot still rattling around in my head, and the crazy streets of Solaris are a good place to let loose creative MechWarrior energy. If you like what you read, consider heading over to my Ko-Fi Page and lending your support.

Black Hills District

Solaris City

Solaris VII

12 April, 3057

                

                Hannah wiped down the top of the bar as she glanced out the front window, watching the rain pelt the streets in a stereotypical night on Solaris VII.

               “I think it’s just the two love-birds in the bathroom. I’m ducking out for a smoke,” Tristan, the owner of the bar said. She never knew why he went outside to smoke, the air was equally dingy both inside and outside of the run-of-the-mill sports bar on the outskirts of the Black Hills district. It didn’t matter, he was the boss.

               The bar was empty, and Hannah had managed to get it mostly clean since it had emptied out. The tri-vid screens were all showing dull replays of the night’s fights and the city was getting ready to reboot for the next day. The fights were over for the moment, the patrons had all gone home to either continue their fun or sleep off their woes. All except for the two love birds who had made a not-so secret escape to the bathroom for some extracurricular activities.

               Hannah shoved her hands in her pockets. It had been a decent night, a solid mix of D and C-bills in tips meant she would be able to cover the rent that her landlord was annoyingly demanding. That would cover her basics for another month. Call it three weeks to be safe. She could get by on food at the job, and that basic hand to mouth existence never ceased to invade her thoughts as she tried to sleep in the early mornings.

               How had her dream come to this? Sure, she had come to Solaris knowing that not many fighters made the big-time, but it had been eighteen months since she had come to the game world with aspirations of making it big, and now she found herself tending bar in a hole-in-the-wall place to make ends meet. She had served in the AFFC as a MechWarrior, she had made the cut, and now her dream was reduced to this?

               Her reverie was shattered as the two love birds stumbled out of the bathroom, holding each other up in a clumsy way, and making their way toward the front of the bar. “Sorry about the mess. Our tip should cover it,” the man said to her as he coaxed his companion towards the exit.

               Unfortunately, they had paid their tab in advance, and she would be left to clean up whatever mess the guy was referring to. There was a time where she had thought cleaning ‘Mech components was the lowest of the low, but the game world had humbled her to a point she could not have envisioned when she grounded a year and a half ago.

               She was about to steady herself for whatever horror awaited her in the bathroom when a man entered the room and sat down at the bar. “You guys still open?”

               She nodded. “As long as you’re paying.”

               The man ordered a bourbon neat, and it took Hannah no time at all to pour two fingers of the well bourbon into a glass and make her way over to the newcomer. She didn’t recognize the man, but that didn’t mean much in this part of town. The bar had a few regulars, but it was mostly fly-by-night clientele that seldom made an impression. This man was non-descript, wearing a casual suit that could have made him anything from an accountant to a bookie.

               “You Hannah Knowles?”

               She paused. That was out of the ordinary. How did this guy know her? “Could be. What do you need her for?”

               “I need a body to fill a cockpit, and my usual routes are turned up dry. Somebody dropped me your name, said you had some experience, and you were working down here waiting for a paying gig to turn up.”

               She waited for the catch. There was always a catch. She had assumed that ‘Mech piloting slots were a dime a dozen on the prime game world of the Inner Sphere, but she had quickly been disabused of that notion. Lives were cheap and ‘Mech slots were expensive, and without a ‘Mech you needed some kind of angle. She had just never found that angle. “What’s the catch?”

               The man downed a swig of his drink. “No catch, it’s just a one-time gig. Nothing fancy, just filling space on a fight card. Filling the right space for the right price.”

               So that was it. He didn’t need a MechWarrior, he needed a pilot to play a specific part, and that most likely meant a fixed fight. This wasn’t a fight, it was more of an acting job. Play the part, do as you were told, and don’t rock the boat. She had heard the play a hundred times before. She had turned it down a hundred times before. But as she thought of the prospect of cleaning up whatever mess awaited her in the bathroom, something changed. Maybe it was hope. Maybe it was desperation. Whatever it was, this time was going to be different.

               “I’m listening.”

               The man nodded and scratched a few lines on a napkin. “We can talk details then. It isn’t pretty, but it’s a job. I’ll see you then.”