[Sector: "Alpha", Station: "Watchman-XVII" – dock-12U]
Dissatisfied with the influx of guests, the residents wandered between trading stalls with all sorts of trinkets and memorized alleys, where garbage and dirt had taken on the appearance of a carpet.
The aura of the slums radiated an indescribable hatred, akin to the mind of a malevolent monster. And most of all, it hated those who stood out against the general background.
Wanting to spare myself from the malicious glances of the locals, I turned on the navigator, not accounting for the fact that stations do change over time, so we were faced with a choice: either the dark passage between two spires of skyscrapers, or a long detour.
"No! I won't cut through that dump!" stomping my foot on the dirty covering, I only intensified the rage, as the puddle nearly splashed my trouser leg.
"Remind me, who of us is the capricious girl?.." Mako peered into the narrow alley.
"I'm repeating once more! You won't make me cut through the dump! We... no... IT'S THERE!!!"
"Who?!" Mako took the plasmagun at the ready and focused.
Ahead was it... a primitive monstrosity with smooth gray fur, a naked worm-like tail, triangular ears, paws with hook-like claws, a maw bursting with crooked teeth, and a quartet of blood-red eyes...
"RAT!!!" bravely jabbing a finger at the embodiment of horror and death itself, I felt myself starting to feel nauseous, "DESTROY IT!!! In the name of the Prophet and His Justiciars!!!"
Half a meter of purest darkness blinked and began... WASHING ITSELF...
"For the mother-abyss's sake... Get a grip on yourself." the girl sighed heavily and put her service weapon back into the holster.
"But... but it's so fat and hairy… And the smell… ugh... I'm going to puke!"
The unimaginable beast squeaked something incomprehensible in an attempt to squeeze its thick ass into the container for recycled matter.
Bestowing upon her knight a gaze full of tenderness, Mako turned around and walked forward.
As for me, I had to stay as close to her as possible, hoping that the acrid smell of the uniform would overpower the stench of the alley. To my surprise, I only caught notes of perfume with lemon extract:
"Hm... You're not using that disgusting powder anymore?"
"…" the girl grimaced, stepping over yet another pile of garbage.
"Well, glory to Iliyas, I don't even know what's scarier, the rat stink or your... " and then the barrel of the plasmagun poked into my nose.
"I surrender!!! Spare the mortal, goddess of war! He cringingly begs for forgiveness..."
"IDIOT!!! One more word on that topic, and I'll drop you right into this shit... Agh!!! Why the hell did I even come here?!" she abruptly darkened, but upon seeing the absolutely idiotic expression on my face, she instantly cooled off.
"You were afraid something would happen to me, right?" I drawled smugly, taking a step toward the blushing girl.
"You smell great, by the way… Just saying..."
"Thanks… But still! With an idiot and clown like you, nothing can definitely happen! You could have gotten used to..."
Born from two voices, the echo bounced off the metal walls oozing with dirt and immediately vanished, mixing with splashes of puddles and the self-satisfied chuckles of those whose shadows had left cover, stretching the full length of the alley.
"Sorry to interrupt the marital spat, but we must inform you that you're now on the territory of the infamous 'Orochi' gang, which means you fall under our regulations." a tall silhouette, whose imperial armor seemed hastily smeared with shit and topped with a mercenary jacket ruined by poverty, grew practically out of nowhere.
The bandit's hands were all covered in inscriptions and tattoos of ancient monsters and runes, and behind his back, the shadow of another thug had already emerged.
A skinny and frail young lad in a similar "uniform" clutched what looked like a plasmagun, slightly nervous but not showing it.
"And since we're good guys, we offer the famous personage to voluntarily contribute to the cause of maintaining order on this station. Just a hundred thousand credits per person. Your money will go to a good cause! But if you decide to refuse... we'll have to beg you..." the gang leader pulled an old-model named plasmagun from inside his jacket.
Only now did I notice that from the other side, a third "serpent" had sneaked up, cutting off the only possible escape route.
"Well, what are you standing around for?! We're waiting for the tithe! Aha-ha-ha!!!" the largest specimen of this species of animal took us in his sights, while the skinny pirate timidly glanced around.
"…" Mako placed a hand on the pocket of her plaid pants, glancing toward me.
"Guys, why grab for guns right away? We'd be happy to contribute to the defense of the 'Watchman'! Here's my identification card, take it…" rummaging in my pockets, I pulled out the named chip, then calmly extended it forward.
"Just be careful with him, bro... Andjin are really dangerous..." the most cowardly of the gopniks mumbled.
"Shut your trap! I don't give a fuck about whatever they spin about 'demons with black sclera,' and this one's scrawny anyway. Mole, take his loot!" the leader nodded to the shorty beside him, so that he'd approach me, showing the highest degree of caution.
"Thanks for your contribution!.." sniffling, Mole snatched the card from my hands.
"You're welcome... " I smiled warmly... "respected ones..."
The moment became eternity. The amber flame of the dagger slipped from the sleeve of my jacket, severing the bandit's extended stump.
"MAKO, GO!!!"
At my command, the first mate closed her eyes and tossed a flash-bang grenade.
The cry of the silvery sphere merged with the plasma flash of fury; the severed hand seemed to freeze in place, falling to the ground only when I was already behind the leader, slicing his neck in a single transverse cut.
The cabinet behind managed to cover his eyes with his hand, but it didn't help him.
Mako dropped to one knee and drew her plasmagun.
The flash of the ionic clump pierced the pirate's tower through and through. Glowing with an empty cranial box, the forehead collapsed dead, dropping the rusty blade.
But it was not yet time to celebrate victory.
"Damn..." the first mate groaned, pressing the bullet wound.
Losing my composure for literally a second, I felt the barrel pressed to the back of my head:
"Move... and you and her are corpses!" the one-armed bandit had somehow winged the target despite his own wound, but as soon as clarity returned to his eyes...
"You... You killed bro... He... he... You, fucking demon!!! Your life ends here and now…" tears streamed down the young lad's cheeks, and the plasmagun glowed white-hot.
"How often I've heard that..." I whispered, smirking...
"Die..." came from behind...
The moment switched like in a movie; I spun in place with a sweep, but... the clank of the bolt cut off with the roar of another shot, like a planetary artillery salvo...
"Sorry I'm late!" an unfamiliar voice sounded amid the squeal from the sonic impact.
The weapon slipped from the bandit's hands, failing to exact its revenge.
Turning around, I saw the lad had stopped breathing; blood gushed from his mouth, his legs buckled, and the pirate collapsed downward, right next to the puddle of dirt.
The sentence had been carried out by a kinetic slug that turned the victim's head into shapeless pâté, staining the adjacent wall. The owner of the handheld cannon-revolver himself returned the smoking barrel to its holster.
"I really was in a hurry! I heard command summoned you and decided to escort. You had to land in the slums, so I went looking... But looks like I needed to be quicker..." the figure in the white cloak exited stealth mode, gripping a meter-long blade in his right hand, leaving his left on the grip.
Without examining our savior, I immediately rushed to my beloved.
"Mako, are you okay?! Tell me, where's the wound!!! FASTER!!!"
"IDIOT!!! Don't yell!!!" she clutched her leg, sitting next to the alley wall.
Conducting a primary scan, I saw the bullet had hit the muscle, passed clean through, and barely grazed the tendon. In such cases, one just needed to bring the instrumentarium to the wound and apply medical nano-bots – "Zvezdochka."
"Now everything's fine? The pain's gone? Eyes not darkening?" I took Mako's hand.
"…" the girl sitting on the floor simply stayed silent for a while.
"Don't rush, rest; I'll be right here until you recover..." when I looked Mako in the eyes, she instantly perked up and averted her gaze.
"Ahem-ahem…" the figure standing behind removed the sweeping hood.
The owner of the impressive "Tormentor" barrel turned out to be a young-looking lad. His average height and build, short chestnut hair, and brown eyes were characteristics fitting a third of the galactic population. If not for the uniform with the emblem of a pierced bear's head, I wouldn't have even understood the origin of this character.
"Greetings, I'm the head of the local ESB corps! Oops… Slipped… My callsign is English, but actually I'm Sigard Furukawa! Damn... Slipped again…" the guy tried to imitate the accent of ancient Britons, but it didn't come off very well.
"I need to escort you to the parliament; there'll be a military council of the temporary alliance!"
English smiled warmly and, without changing his expression, headed toward the gang leader.
The victim of the omni-blade hadn't died immediately; augmentations absorbed part of the neck damage, but they couldn't handle the next attack.
With a gaze full of friendliness, the intelligence department head raised the "Bastard" over the ground, severing the enemy's head from the body with one strike, watching as it merrily rolled further down the alley.
With a sharp motion, shaking the dark-red liquid from the blade, the scout sheathed it somewhere under the cloak and approached us, extending a hand.
Stealthily, I glanced at the revolver.
"Like it? I got it in one deal. But we don't have time to talk about that..."
"In that case, glad to meet you. Thanks for preventing the irreparable... Probably owe you now..." I cut off nervously, glancing at Mako.
"Come on, I just helped a little. The captain of the famous dreadnought 'Justice' wouldn't surrender to some cheap knockoff!" his eyes suddenly flared with new emotions, "And... I... You know… I'M YOUR FAN!!!"
"Whose fan?!" the first mate finally came to her senses.
At that moment, I fell out of reality.
"I've followed all your exploits from the very beginning! Do you remember how you beat fifty enemy ships, jumping out of warp during the fleet review?! And that time you RAMMED a pirate battleship?! Or when…"
"Stop!!!" I blushed like the crown of the Almagest. "Listen, where do you even know all this from?!"
"From where? They made a whole holo-series about you! 'Dreadnought-Phantom'! Like a colorless mirage, invisible on radars and appearing at the right moment! But it doesn't have all the episodes; now they're adapting the manga... and... you know..." the guy hesitated a bit.
"I have this collector's edition… It was really hard to get… Had to… Ah, never mind. Could you sign it?" pulling the treasure from inside his jacket, English cautiously extended it to me.
"We're in deep..." with trembling hands, I gripped the holo-book with our dreadnought on the cover.
"'Dreadnought-Phantom' – fata morgana of the new world... Like the 'Flying Dutchman,' invisible on radars, for it strikes at the most unexpected moment for the enemy... Publisher: Gabriel-T..."
"Hey, let me see!" Mako snatched the comic and quickly flipped through a couple of pages.
"AHA-HA-HA!!! Like a peacock on parade! What, IT LOOKS LIKE!!!"
Attempts to wrest the book from her hands weren't successful. Completely forgetting about the wound, the first mate playfully dodged my lunges, stepping back and bursting into laughter:
"Look at how he waves his hands! Even though I stand right there, I never noticed! What a cutie!"
"GIVE IT BACK IMMEDIATELY!!! That's a captain's order!!!"
"Pf, fine! I'll buy a new one later..." Mako extended playfully, returning the crumpled trophy.
"Just try..." I snatched the book, recalling where the laser was on the instrumentarium.
"Ooh! How scary we are. I'm so scared!" Mako stood behind my back, watching as I scrawled some squiggle on the trophy, then solemnly handing it back to the rightful owner.
"There, take it... I'm no master of writing, but I think it turned out okay…"
"…" silently clutching his trophy in trembling hands, the scout fell quiet.
"Buddy?"
Instead of an answer, English clenched his teeth and hid his face in the hood's shadow.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Nothing... it's fine..." the corners of his lips twitched occasionally, and his voice changed, losing sparks of joy in favor of mournful sorrow.
"This... is a great honor for me! I've always been inspired by your faith in ideals and always thought how you'd act in this or that situation. So... I wanted to say thanks, for staying that way no matter what!" calming a bit, English tucked the trophy back inside his jacket and struck his fist to his chest, paying knightly respects.
"Aha-ha-ha!!!" the first mate wrapped her arms around my neck and nearly knocked me to the ground.
"Satisfied, Captain? Made the poor guy cry. Could've been gentler. But the first time's always like that. Right? Crybaby?.." the last word she whispered in my ear.
"Alright! Let's go! We have a mission. Command doesn't give a damn about me, they only want the ship… but! I want to file a complaint against them, for letting antisocial elements roam the streets like it's their own home!" the tired knight shifted his gaze to the saboteur.
"God, how I want to brag... Your bro did this, Ren." barely audibly muttering something under his breath, English mechanically led us deeper into the streets.
As for the corpses... the corpses just lay on the ground, oozing inappropriate liquids as a lesson to their possible followers.
The path of the motley trio now lay through that same dilapidated district of old and thoroughly rusted little houses.
Crossing the yellow-black stripe with the "do not cross" sign, we realized the goal was not far off.
*
1: Orochi – decentralized criminal organization affiliated with the Cartel.
2: E.S.B. (Entire Security Branch) – elite law enforcement forces in the Ordinatum.