Beta Earth: Between Worlds 2.0 Edition (8 page)

Leaders

Location: Sprawl 15—Faux Forsaken hideout.

Faux Forsaken members bring in boxes of clothes and organize them. Others are sparring with each other. Faux Forsaken member Keith watches everyone while he waits for Vin to return. Faux Forsaken member Vette walks up to him. “No training for you today?” she asks. Keith waves his hand in the air dismissing the notion.

“I’m tired of training. I want to ransack some more gangs.”

“Some more? Have you ever been on a mission?” Vette asks with a laugh. Keith folds his arms.

“Not yet. But it’s sure to be my time soon. I mean, Vin can’t handle all the missions on his own.” Vette smiles at the comment.

“I dunno. He usually only brings two or three people with him.”

“Yeah, I heard that last time he didn’t even let you guys fight. Is he really that strong?” Vette holds her hand out.

“Look at our crew and ask that again. We’ve expanded so much even the Syndicate has noticed us. I think Vin wants us to all be administrators. He wants to keep us out of the fighting as much as possible.”

“Wait, wait. The Syndicate? They notice us? What do you mean? In a good way or a bad way?” Keith asks. Just then, Vin enters the room. Keith doesn’t wait for a reply and runs over to him. “Hey, boss man! Next mission, I’m ready.” Keith points at himself. Vin continues to walk into the bone room. He doesn’t pay any attention to Keith or his proposal.

“Come on! Let me show you.” Keith says. Vin enters the room and pushes Keith out.

“Maybe next time.” Vin looks over to Vette. “Vette, we have a meeting.” Keith stands by the bone room. He hits the wall with his fist.
Dammit Vin notice me man.
He thinks. Vette walks by Keith on the way to the bone room. She touches him lightly on the shoulder.

“Maybe next time, right?” Vette says and lets out a half smile. “Yeah … next time.” Keith replies halfheartedly. Vette enters the bone room and closes the door. Vin sits down in his chair and leans back with a sigh. The Faux Forsaken command room is completely different. Vin has rearranged everything and personalized the entire office.

Basically he has stripped it of everything that reminded him of the former leaders. Vette takes a seat on the front of his desk. “Way to alienate your people ... boss.” Vin looks through papers on his desk.

“They’ll get over it.” Vin replies coldly. Vette casts a frown at the remark.

“They look up to you. You should show them that you … I don’t know … actually exist.”

“That is still up for debate.” Vin says quietly and then changes the subject.

“Status report.” he asks. Vette holds up an electronic tablet. “Sprawl 15 is green status, minimal crime. We didn’t stop the petty thieves but the more serious crimes are all way down.”

“Good. What about the others?” Vette continues to check her tablet.

“Our newly acquired sprawls 34, 11, and 18 are all green.” Vin writes notes as she speaks.

“What about Saklas?”

“We need more manpower to defend Saklas. The gangs there are well equipped and dangerous,” she says. Vin stops writing and looks up. Vette hands him a note.

“The Syndicate ... they called us again.” Vin opens the note and reads it.

“Gaidon hmm … do they have hostile intentions?” Vette steps close to Vin.

“I don’t think so, but—”

“Ignore them.” Vin interrupts Vette. She slams her hand down on the desk.

“Look, you made me second in command for a reason! We need to respond to them. If they are a threat we need to know so we can prepare and if they are not a threat we should listen to their offer.”

“I guess so ... I trust your opinion, set up a meeting.” Vin replies.

“Good you trust me because I ... already told them you would contact them today.” Vin leans back in his chair and smiles.

“Confident, aren’t we?” Vette returns the smile.

“That’s just one of my many good traits,” she says.

“Well then, I can’t argue with that. Let’s see what the Syndicate has to offer.” Vin replies.

\

Connection

Location: City District 8—tenth floor of the Syndicate building.

Gaidon walks through a busy office while talking to himself. “Damn relics, trying to take the Syndicate from me. I just need a little more time.” He enters his office just as his phone rings. He walks over to his desk, sits down and answers it. Eva, his assistant, is on the line.

“Gaidon, we’ve found Vin.” The news brings a smile to his face. “Perfect. Put him on.” Eva transfers the line to Gaidon.

“You are a hard man to track down, Vin.”

“I don’t want to be found by people like you, Gaidon.” Vin replies. Gaidon is taken aback by the comment.

“Wait a minute. My alliance with the Syndicate, it doesn’t mean that I’m bad.”

“Yes, it does.” Vin says coldly.

“The Syndicate is full of corruption and they feed off the weak and helpless.”

“This is true but I am not allied with them.” Gaidon replies

“You’re not part of the Syndicate?” Vin asks.

“Actually,
they
aren’t. The Syndicate is my organization and a bunch of greedy old men are trying to take that away.” Gaidon replies.

“And how is that my problem?” Vin asks. Gaidon can hear the cynicism in Vin’s voice. He knows that he has to appeal to Vin logically in order to win him over. “This situation can end up being your problem ... or your solution. If those greedy old bastards in the Syndicate get their way. Their plan is to wipe out problem gangs like yours and put the sprawls under their protection.”

“How is that different from what you are going to do?” Vin asks.

“Listen, I won’t lie. Those old guys have a point and I might do the same if I were in their position. However, they aren’t as smart as me. I recognize potential and you are teeming with it. Also, I like the fact that you fight for the good of your sprawl. That makes you honorable and trustworthy. If you ally with me, not only will I let you keep your territory, but I will also help you expand and protect your territory according to your own rules.”

Vin remains silent. He certainly didn’t expect that kind of reply. He is now slightly interested in the proposal. However, he still continues to drill Gaidon. “And why should I trust you?” Vin asks. “Rumor has it you killed your own parents.”

Gaidon is caught off guard. He didn’t think that Vin would have that information. “Ah … well.” Gaidon calms down. “You shouldn’t trust me. And I would assume contracts mean nothing to you but you can trust my motivation and adapt to the situation at hand. Either the old men or I will be running the Syndicate by the end of the month. Either way you’ll have to fight a war. The only difference is. If they are running things, you’ll be fighting a war that you can’t win. Trust me, if they have to, they will use their connections with the corrupt U.F. officials against you.”

Vin thinks for a moment. Gaidon's reasoning is sound.

“What’s your motivation? Besides the obvious.” Vin asks.

“Ah yes. While they stick to the old ways of feeding off the weak and the helpless of the sprawls. You know, by extorting money from the more misfortunate. My tactic is to actually turn the Syndicate into a legitimate business. We will be the owners of clubs, bars, and other entertainment venues. This can provide lots of work for everyone—even children of the sprawl, which will help get them off the street.” Vin thinks about the proposal. This is something he has heard before but he doesn’t know if he can trust Gaidon’s dream … even if it is close to Zuri’s.

“The lesser of two evils.” Vin says.

“That’s usually the case.” Gaidon replies.

“I still want a contract with a guarantee.” Vin says.

“That can be done.”

“And I want to see you in person when we sign it.” Vin adds.

Gaidon leans back in his chair. A huge smile crosses his face.“That ... can be managed as well.”

Survey

Time: Evening.

Location: Streets of City District 11.

Clave wanders through the streets. Unlike a normal tourist, he surveys the area. Examining the structures and noting landmarks. He walks through city blocks while he takes in the scenery. Clave analyzes the tall buildings and watches the affluent people dine and laugh.

He notices in District 11 there seem to be three classes of people. The wealthy, who live in the highest level of the massively tall buildings located in the city. The politicians, who live, close to the administration buildings. And the rest of the population who tries to fit in anywhere within the city.

No matter they class. They all struggle to fit in the city in one way or another. The other option is to move into the unprotected sprawls, where a difficult life is all but certain.

Each city has the same civic buildings, parks, and a U.F. military base. The most amazing part is that every city seems to be content. No one wants to dissent and risk losing their valuable position in the city.

All the city districts follow the same format … interesting.
Clave thinks as he continues to walk the streets. The people of the city district show little interest in him. Some of the ladies steal glimpses of Clave’s handsome and mysteriously foreign face. He catches the stares and it actually makes him feel happy. It makes him feel, for a moment, as if he were a normal person and could possibly live a life impressing these girls.

The thought quickly leaves him as he realizes how bored he would be with an average girl. No matter how pretty or well-connected a girl is, she is still considered average in his eyes. In fact, Clave is given such special treatment and privileged information on his missions. That he starts to see the city residents as worse than just average.

Overwhelming thoughts of superiority grip Clave as he watches the people enter and exit stores. They live their lives with little or no care.
I wonder if this is how they feel about the people of the sprawls.
Clave thinks.

While walking around the outskirts of City District 11, he passes by a dimly lit bar. Most of the social clubs in City District 11 are upper-class, well-decorated establishments but this place is different. Clave watches the entrance of the bar as young people enter and exit. Some of the people look like ordinary denizens of District 11 others look like the kind of punks, thugs, and troublemakers you'd find in the sprawls.

This bar is an underground connection point. A spot where the youth of the sprawls and District 11 meet, they gather to enjoy music, drinks and sometimes even some conflict. Clave’s curiosity gets the best of him. He starts to wonder what peers his own age do. He stops his survey mission and enters the bar.

Clave is stopped at the door by a big tough looking guy. A bouncer for the bar. “Hey, you! What are you? City prep or sprawl dweller?”

“Neither.” Clave replies.

“Oh really? So what, you live in the sky?” Clave, already bored with the conversation, walks by the bouncer. “Sure.” he replies. The bouncer steps toward Clave and grabs his shoulder. Clave glances back.

“Not a good idea,” he says in a serious tone.

The two lock eyes and in that small moment, the bouncer can tell Clave is the real deal. He allows him through without further hassle. Another patron tries to enter the bar behind Clave. The bouncer picks up that patron and slams him against the wall. “City or sprawl?” he yells.

Clave continues into the bar which is dark in some parts, and in others, such as the dance halls, it’s lighted very brightly. LCDs on the ground, walls, and ceilings make weird illusions and seem to distort reality. The music blares as Clave passes through one of the dance halls. As soon as he exits the dance hall and enters the dark part of the bar, the music level drops to about a fourth of what it was.

Clave is slightly impressed. Even though the place looks rustic, it contains advanced sound focus technology. Clave moves toward the bar counter. He watches the punk sprawl kids and some city kids laughing around drinks.

The groups are pretty random. Some of the sprawl kids talk with the city kids, but, for the most part, they stick to their own groups and weigh the situation. Clave watches the dance floor from the bar. A group of the sprawl punks are doing an interesting dance.

It’s freestyle and they let their bodies move uninhibited. They seem confident in their movements. It almost looks as though they are training. One of the girls among the dancers seems to be dancing circles around the others.

She is pretty, yet she still has the presence of a tough girl. Even her dance moves are a bit masculine but Clave is more impressed with her nimbleness. To Clave, she actually looks kind of … cool. The rest of the dancers realize it, too, and they give her silent respect as they watch her intensely. A bartender takes Clave’s order. “What will it be?”

Clave looks around briefly for a menu of sorts and then spots a tough-looking guy drinking a small greenish drink. “Whatever he’s having.” The bartender raises her eyebrow and leaves to prepare the drink. Clave watches as a few of the sprawl punks chat up a pretty city girl who’s not into them. The bartender returns, drink in hand.

“That will be—” Clave holds out a credit chip before she can finish. The bartender scans it and watches as Clave tries the drink. Clave takes a precautionary sip before he takes a bigger gulp of the greenish substance. The liquid burns on its way down but Clave fights the urge to cringe. The bartender is amused at Clave’s performance.

“You are not from around here, are you?”

“I suppose.” Clave replies.

The bartender smiles at Clave’s response. “Let me guess. You’re from Beta Earth.” Clave finishes up the rest of his drink. “Why would you guess that?” Clave slides the glass to the bartender. She catches it and refills it. “Oh, it's just the way you carry yourself I guess. Here, this one’s on me.”

Clave turns his attention back to the dance floor and continues to watch the girl dancing. “Who is that?” Clave asks. The bartender turns to look at the girl.

“Rebi? Uh … I mean that’s Roni.”

“Roni? Seriously? That’s a guy’s name.” Clave says.

The bartender laughs as she calls one of the sprawl punks over. She whispers something in his ear. He runs over to the dance floor and gets her attention. Roni looks over at Clave and then over to the bartender and nods. Clave notices the interaction.

“What’s that all about?” he asks.

“Oh, I think she likes you.” The bartender says innocently.

Clave looks away from Roni and the bartender. He focuses in on the rest of the scenery. “Sure.” Clave casually replies. He’s now sure the bartender is the type the likes to play games. Clave notices a girl who is being hassled by some sprawl punks. The bartender moves closer to Clave.

“So, you gonna save her?” Clave picks up his drink and takes a sip.

“Hadn’t planned to ... can't your big ass bouncer do that job?”A city kid at the end of the bar calls for the bartender.

“Hold on!” the bartender shouts. She then returns her attention to Clave. He is watching the city kids. None of them are standing up to the antics of the sprawl punks. “If you don’t do anything, she’s gonna be their plaything, you know.”

“Then she shouldn’t have come in here alone … the weak seeking danger.” The bartender moves in closer to Clave.

“That’s cold. She came in here with a guy but she ditched him for more excitement. I bet she'll regret that.” Clave quickly finishes the rest of his drink and turns to the bartender.

“Again, not my problem.”Clave’s communication band on his wrist beeps, an incoming message, most likely a new mission.

“It might be your problem.” The bartender whispers in Clave’s ear.

“Why is that?” Clave asks.

“Well, first, you’re drunk. And second, I bet fifty cred on you.”

Clave is confused by the comment.

“What? What do you m-mean?” Clave tries to walk away from the bar and stumbles. He looks around. He’s drunk and everyone notices. Two sprawl punks walk up to Clave.

“Where is your crew?” one of the punks says in a deep voice. Clave holds his head and tries to compose himself.

“What crew?”Clave ask as the sprawl punk grabs him by his relatively concealed battle suit. Clave quickly grabs the sprawl punk’s hand and twists it enough to break the wrist. The punk yells in agony. Clave then tries to grab him by the shoulder but he misses and stumbles past him. The sprawl punk clutches his broken wrist and runs off.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Another sprawl punk asks. Clave tries to focus on the punk. “You listening to me? You’re in a bunch of trouble, man.” The punk says.

Clave struggles to stand on his own. The room is spinning and his balance is off. The sprawl punk swings on Clave. He sloppily dodges the punch. He then stumbles around the bar, successfully but awkwardly evading all of the punk’s punches and tackle attempts.

The sprawl punk stops to catch his breath. Clave rests on the bar counter, closes his eyes and concentrates on trying to regain his balance. After a moments rest, Clave jumps up and runs directly at the sprawl punk. The punk tries to defend against what he thinks is going to be Clave’s punch.

However, Clave attacks the punk with a powerful head-butt. The punk drops unconscious and Clave falls on top of him. Everyone in the bar stares at the spectacle. The bartender smiles. “Good job, stranger. Want another drink? On me.”

Clave stumbles to his feet. He centers himself and looks around. The room isn’t moving as much. Clave has successfully composed himself for the moment.“Sorry if I killed that guy.” Clave says. The bartender lets out a laugh.

“You’re pretty good. Let me guess … a hunter in training right?”

“Bounty hunter? No. Y-you can just call me ... call me Little Death.” Clave says. He is still tipsy and really doesn’t know what he is talking about. Clave can hear one person clapping slowly. Clave looks around its Roni.

“Little Death? Seriously?” Roni says with a grin. “Maybe I should call you
little
skill … or how about
little
talent?”

“How about you go back to your dance party before you get hurt,
little
girl.” Clave says

“By who? You? The guy with the two left feet.” Roni says as she approaches Clave.

“I watched that whole fight and you were terrible. Drunk or not, I could have danced circles around you. With your lack of coordination, I’m willing to bet you’re one of the worst bounty hunters out there.”

Clave leans on a nearby chair to stabilize himself.
She sounds like another annoying, criticizing woman I know.
Clave thinks.

“I’m not a bounty hunter.” he replies.

“Of course not. They wouldn’t take a scrub like you.” Roni replies as she walks up to the chair and kicks it from under Clave. He falls and hits the ground hard. Patrons of the bar erupt in laugher.

“I saw you scanning this bar earlier, acting as though you were above everyone in here. We have ways of dealing with people like you.” Roni says. Clave gathers himself while he is on the floor.

“Come on. Show me what you’ve got. That is unless you’re against fighting girls.” Roni says as she walks closer to Clave.
If she only knew who trained me.
Clave thinks. He does a leg sweep. Roni dodges it. Clave uses a nearby chair to prop himself up. Once stable, he kicks the chair at Roni. It slides along the ground fast in her direction. With her arms crossed, she stops the chair with her foot using little effort. Clave focuses in on Roni.

“I’m an equal opportunist.”

“Glad to hear.” she replies. Her confidence is appealing to Clave, it's not always a mark of a good fighter but it is a good start. Roni charges Clave, her movement is familiar.
That’s how I move, except she moves much more naturally … and she has something else.
Clave thinks as he analyzes her charge.

The revelation of her skill is apparent and has sobered him up a little. He wastes no time in swinging on Roni, who dodges all his punches easily.
What the hell?
Clave is perplexed. He can’t land any of his punches. Roni is dancing circles around him. What’s worse is, she is at close distance and Clave is a master at close quarter combat drunk or not.

Roni hasn’t thrown one punch but she has retained control the whole time. She weaves in and around Clave. The spectators watch as Clave is made a fool out of.

She toys with him as if he is a bad dance partner. Roni backs up and leaves him slightly disoriented. She yawns disappointedly at Clave.

“Seriously, I thought bounty hunters were supposed to be better than this.” Clave shakes his fist with frustration.

“I’m not a bounty hunter!” The bartender is glued to the performance. Another city kid comes up and asks for a drink.

“Buzz off! Can’t you see? Rebi is on tonight!” Clave overhears the bartender.

“Rebi? Why do they call you Roni? That’s a boy’s name.” Roni is irritated his remark.

“Shut up!” she as charges Clave. This time Clave tries to grab her by the shoulder but he is still slightly drunk. So he misjudges and ends up grabbing Roni’s left breast. The bartender covers her mouth and opens her eyes with shock.