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Description
Solaris City, Greyland
Solaris VII
Bolan Province, Lyran Commonwealth
6 October 3133

Much like the rest of Solaris City’s Montenegro district, the Black Eagle was shabby and run down, the bar’s entrance being marked by a flickering sign whose title, printed in both English and Russian, was barely legible under the grime and peeling paint. And even then, this is far from the worst place I’ve ever been in, Antonin Rybak told himself as he stepped inside, heading down the stairs to the bar room.

The interior lived up to the promise of the street entrance. Poorly lit by flickering lights, there was an air of neglect around the place. Battered a worn furniture on a carpet that had been irreparably stained by drink and who knew what else topped off with tarnished fittings and, just to complete the set, a cracked mirror behind the bar itself. The few patrons kept to themselves, hunched over their drinks, the conversation non-existent.

One of them caught his eye, however; a large, burly woman seated at the bar, a bottle in hand. Rather than being absorbed in her drink, she was instead watching the flickering trivid screen over the bar. A quick glance at her back conformed what he needed to know; short, scruffy black hair, her muscular body was only partially hidden by a sleeveless vest adorned with a fur collar. Lurid, bright green tattoos adorned her arms, almost looking like the enhanced imaging patterns on a Clan warrior.

He sat himself next to her, one design in particular catching his eye; an angular skull, a slogan written beneath it in Cyrillic text. “You never change, do you, Sveta?” He began, casually eyeing her.

She glanced back at him, regarding the man with an impassive face for the moment. “And I was hoping that you would, Antonin.” The woman finally spoke, a thick accent colouring her words.

He shrugged. “So what is a contender like you doing in such a classy place as this?”

“It has atmosphere.” She replied with a shrug. “A certain charm that you are not getting in many other places around here, no? And besides, here in place like this, nobody is likely to be bothering me.” She emphasised the last words, a hint of anger in them.

Antonin gave a small chuckle. “A subtle hint, maybe?”

“Maybe.”Sveta shot back. “I am taking a guess as to why you are here, Antonin. You are seeing crisis; HPGs gone, your beloved Republic falling into anarchy, and you are thinking of, shall we say, getting the band back together.” She filled the shot glass in front of her, and took a swig. “And, naturally, you are coming for me.”

“You got that much right, Sveta.” He admitted.

“So why now?” She continued. “I am thinking that, maybe, you had some other little operation maybe. One that did not go well. And, as always, you are needing someone to clean up your mess.”

“No. This is a one-shot deal. I am after a specific objective. When I get that, no more.” There was no point in hiding his reason to be here, given that she had guessed it already. “I won’t even need you for a while; just be ready to come when I need you.”

“Aha. So I and Dead Master are now your dogs, is that it?” She shook her head, the slightest hint of anger in her green eyes. “So I have to ask you, Antonin, why would I run off from here on some crazy errand for you? After all, your coming in here with chicken feet does not make for a compelling argument.”

“I won’t try to appeal to your better nature; you don’t have one.” He stated earnestly. “Nor will I appeal to a sense of duty, as I know you have lack that as well. Instead I offer you money and, of course, the chance to make useful contacts who could get you jobs away from here.” He looked around the room again. “You can’t have helped but notice that Solaris City is swimming with recruiters right now; you can’t throw a dead Yak without hitting one.”

She laughed loudly at the last comment, then shook her head. “So you think I could be a gunslinger then? Why would I be wanting that, as I have fantastic job right now.”

“Oh come on.” He shook his head. “You are a contender, yes, but let’s face it, you are all the talent that Dark Empire actually has left. Cedric’s a goon; you know it, I know it and everyone in the Sphere knows it. You’re carrying him on your back for very little benefit.”

“And he does have very unfortunate hair.” She added.

“Beyond that, this season is a disaster and everyone knows it. Broadcasting revenues are through the floor as there’s no HPG network to sell on to. Bootleg tapes are constituting the bulk of the trade right now, with none of that going back to your pockets. And nobody’s coming to Solaris for the games. The ship I came in on was just me, a half dozen mercenary recruiters and a tape trader.” He continued. “So what is keeping you here?”

“Maybe it is the quality of the opposition.” She offered. “Have you thought, perhaps, that I am just in it for the fights?”

“Come with me and you’ll have more people to-“

“Aha; and my next opponent appears.” Sveta cut him off, glancing up at the trivid screen.

Antonin looked up, the screen showing a grizzled warrior on the screen, standing in front of a lime green and lemon yellow Marauder II. “Despite what most people think, being a MechWarrior is not an easy life.” He began. “And fighting for glory in the arenas is a dangerous business. That’s why I make sure that, even in the heat of battle, I’m as comfortable as I can be. That’s why I use Zengapain.”

The view focused on the tube in his hand, the bright purple and green logo clear. “Zengapain guarantees relief from even the most personal of pains, and its new formula is now more effective against Tigratch.”

The shot cut back to the man, a forced grin on his face. “Be a champion. Use Zengapain!”

Antonin raised an incredulous brow. “That’s your next opponent? A burnt-out hack who endorses rectal cream?”

She laughed. “Can you offer better?”

He grinned back in reply. “I can. You’d be working with people who you know can handle themselves in a fight and dealing with some of the most dangerous, lethal and unpredictable opponents that you have ever seen. We’re not talking play-warriors here, we’re talking merciless killers, Sveta. The sort you used to fight.”

The hulking woman nodded her head. “A real fight…” She held up her glass, studying it intently. “Very well then, you shall have me and Dead Master for whatever it is you need us for. But if you are lying to me, Ponytail, if you are leading me on, then I will kill you.” The narrowed eyes and stern face told him that it was no idle threat. Experience told him that she would do it too.

Description
Solaris City, Greyland
Solaris VII
Bolan Province, Lyran Commonwealth
6 October 3133

Much like the rest of Solaris City’s Montenegro district, the Black Eagle was shabby and run down, the bar’s entrance being marked by a flickering sign whose title, printed in both English and Russian, was barely legible under the grime and peeling paint. And even then, this is far from the worst place I’ve ever been in, Antonin Rybak told himself as he stepped inside, heading down the stairs to the bar room.

The interior lived up to the promise of the street entrance. Poorly lit by flickering lights, there was an air of neglect around the place. Battered a worn furniture on a carpet that had been irreparably stained by drink and who knew what else topped off with tarnished fittings and, just to complete the set, a cracked mirror behind the bar itself. The few patrons kept to themselves, hunched over their drinks, the conversation non-existent.

One of them caught his eye, however; a large, burly woman seated at the bar, a bottle in hand. Rather than being absorbed in her drink, she was instead watching the flickering trivid screen over the bar. A quick glance at her back conformed what he needed to know; short, scruffy black hair, her muscular body was only partially hidden by a sleeveless vest adorned with a fur collar. Lurid, bright green tattoos adorned her arms, almost looking like the enhanced imaging patterns on a Clan warrior.

He sat himself next to her, one design in particular catching his eye; an angular skull, a slogan written beneath it in Cyrillic text. “You never change, do you, Sveta?” He began, casually eyeing her.

She glanced back at him, regarding the man with an impassive face for the moment. “And I was hoping that you would, Antonin.” The woman finally spoke, a thick accent colouring her words.

He shrugged. “So what is a contender like you doing in such a classy place as this?”

“It has atmosphere.” She replied with a shrug. “A certain charm that you are not getting in many other places around here, no? And besides, here in place like this, nobody is likely to be bothering me.” She emphasised the last words, a hint of anger in them.

Antonin gave a small chuckle. “A subtle hint, maybe?”

“Maybe.”Sveta shot back. “I am taking a guess as to why you are here, Antonin. You are seeing crisis; HPGs gone, your beloved Republic falling into anarchy, and you are thinking of, shall we say, getting the band back together.” She filled the shot glass in front of her, and took a swig. “And, naturally, you are coming for me.”

“You got that much right, Sveta.” He admitted.

“So why now?” She continued. “I am thinking that, maybe, you had some other little operation maybe. One that did not go well. And, as always, you are needing someone to clean up your mess.”

“No. This is a one-shot deal. I am after a specific objective. When I get that, no more.” There was no point in hiding his reason to be here, given that she had guessed it already. “I won’t even need you for a while; just be ready to come when I need you.”

“Aha. So I and Dead Master are now your dogs, is that it?” She shook her head, the slightest hint of anger in her green eyes. “So I have to ask you, Antonin, why would I run off from here on some crazy errand for you? After all, your coming in here with chicken feet does not make for a compelling argument.”

“I won’t try to appeal to your better nature; you don’t have one.” He stated earnestly. “Nor will I appeal to a sense of duty, as I know you have lack that as well. Instead I offer you money and, of course, the chance to make useful contacts who could get you jobs away from here.” He looked around the room again. “You can’t have helped but notice that Solaris City is swimming with recruiters right now; you can’t throw a dead Yak without hitting one.”

She laughed loudly at the last comment, then shook her head. “So you think I could be a gunslinger then? Why would I be wanting that, as I have fantastic job right now.”

“Oh come on.” He shook his head. “You are a contender, yes, but let’s face it, you are all the talent that Dark Empire actually has left. Cedric’s a goon; you know it, I know it and everyone in the Sphere knows it. You’re carrying him on your back for very little benefit.”

“And he does have very unfortunate hair.” She added.

“Beyond that, this season is a disaster and everyone knows it. Broadcasting revenues are through the floor as there’s no HPG network to sell on to. Bootleg tapes are constituting the bulk of the trade right now, with none of that going back to your pockets. And nobody’s coming to Solaris for the games. The ship I came in on was just me, a half dozen mercenary recruiters and a tape trader.” He continued. “So what is keeping you here?”

“Maybe it is the quality of the opposition.” She offered. “Have you thought, perhaps, that I am just in it for the fights?”

“Come with me and you’ll have more people to-“

“Aha; and my next opponent appears.” Sveta cut him off, glancing up at the trivid screen.

Antonin looked up, the screen showing a grizzled warrior on the screen, standing in front of a lime green and lemon yellow Marauder II. “Despite what most people think, being a MechWarrior is not an easy life.” He began. “And fighting for glory in the arenas is a dangerous business. That’s why I make sure that, even in the heat of battle, I’m as comfortable as I can be. That’s why I use Zengapain.”

The view focused on the tube in his hand, the bright purple and green logo clear. “Zengapain guarantees relief from even the most personal of pains, and its new formula is now more effective against Tigratch.”

The shot cut back to the man, a forced grin on his face. “Be a champion. Use Zengapain!”

Antonin raised an incredulous brow. “That’s your next opponent? A burnt-out hack who endorses rectal cream?”

She laughed. “Can you offer better?”

He grinned back in reply. “I can. You’d be working with people who you know can handle themselves in a fight and dealing with some of the most dangerous, lethal and unpredictable opponents that you have ever seen. We’re not talking play-warriors here, we’re talking merciless killers, Sveta. The sort you used to fight.”

The hulking woman nodded her head. “A real fight…” She held up her glass, studying it intently. “Very well then, you shall have me and Dead Master for whatever it is you need us for. But if you are lying to me, Ponytail, if you are leading me on, then I will kill you.” The narrowed eyes and stern face told him that it was no idle threat. Experience told him that she would do it too.