Random Encounter: Dark Recon

((Jericho's Landing, Shallow Hale))

Jack Dark rode the jet cycle through the streets of the suburbs, cruising gently and following the rules. Unlike his daughter, he had done some real research into the area. While she was off on some hare-brained scheme for this job, he was busy making a stop at one of the ammunition depots.

The fence was a barred structure, meant to keep some of the larger life out with reinforced tritanium and electricity. It could easily withstand dragons and could stop a tank dead. There were three access points two on the ground and an open air pad for craft and dragons. A small aerocraft was already lifting and making way to The Eryie, the single flat-top mountain well within sight, some miles away towering above the plains.

Jack killed the engine a block away from the depot, small hills and homes blocking the view of it immediately. There, he stowed the bike in an alley, keying it to lock the controls and placing the key nearby under a piece of cement. He concealed his revolver in its underarm holster and pulled two Falcon pistols out. These were silenced with a suppressor each and fired a 9 mm round in an eighteen-round magazine. Just in case he had to use them, though if it went well he would not need them.

He carried a canvas bag, into which he placed his equipment from the bike. Inside was a pair of concussion grenades, again unless necessary, and the all-so-important bug he would need. The bug was an easy thing to make, easy to buy if found with the right people. The rest though was private stock and there would be a hefty check after this was over. It rested next to Datalink he would need to open electronic locks.

Jack glanced out at the location, sighing. Why was he even doing this? He had his daughter to look out for and felt doing what he knew would have been a decent living on a somewhat lawless world. And yet here he was, gearing up to spot his target's locale on a corporate kill-tract.

He never met the man but had heard enough of the dragoons to know they were generally regarded as a good people. What this man did to piss of Citra, he had no idea. What he did know is that this was all wrong, and it put a bad taste in his mouth about it.

With a silent sigh and a grim look of determined march, he set off.


The fence hummed dangerously as he crouched in the bushes. Jack had managed to sneak up on the fence and surveyed his path. The back door was actually open, a double-plated double door that was currently shuttered open. A few guards stood in their patrols, chatting with cigarettes in their hands. It seemed too convenient an event to Jack and did not buy it one bit. He looked up. There were sentries that were a little more alert, marksman rifles either kept at rest towards the sky or slung in the arm as they posed or walked the building's gantries.

He waited a good long moment, listening. The guards did not seem to notice him yet and that was perfect. He reached down and pulled his comm-link out, sticking it to his ear as he pressed is own tac-link on his left hand. It sync'ed easily and he ran his finger over the holo-motion controls. He wasn't quite fond of the interface but had to admit it was rather useful and fast when you got used to it.

Radio chatter was about. He touched two fingers to the earpiece, once again watching the guards in their patrol.

"Falcon-Utah 344, Delta-De Lacy 116: I got a ion storm on my scope cropping up Northwest-by-West, up towards Region Four and boy does it look nasty."

"Reading you five-by-five, yeah I noticed that. Barrel had to divert over the Big E, boy were they pissed. Heya, didn't Zeke chart that direction?"

"I thought I saw the son of a bitch fly that way, yeah. Said it was some errand he was doing--"

"Mike Omega-12, priority one to Falcon-Utah 344, Delta-De Lacy 116: clear out unofficial comms chatter. Continue on present courses."

Both pilots gave sounds of surprise but Jack noted the signal broadcast of MO-12, which was the strongest. It was practically right on top of him, while the pilots had a bit of static here and there. The air had a bit of a haze about it with a sweltering heat that spoke of a storm. In the distance, straddling the horizon of mountains was the ion storm spotted by the pilots, who were now switching to private channels after the outpost finished scolding them.

He touched the controls and now slowly pulled out the Datalink. A pebble was easily found and he carefully, as silently as he could, flung it towards the electric wall. It pinged and was zapped audibly, drawing the attention of the slacking footmen by the gate. Here he aimed with equal care towards the men with the omnisensor of the device.

Come on, call the disturbance, he thought as they stared in that direction. It seemed like they would not, until one finally threw his cigarette and reached for his ear. Jack thumbed the activation key as he radioed to the depots' watch officer, the guard playing in his ear.

"This is Sector Two, investigating fence discharge."

"Affirmative, Sector Two."

"Got you," Jack whispered, wiping sweat from his nose as he looked to the radio frequencies. Now he just needed to see the routes they took. He settled in with a wait, knowing he had a little time before another transport arrived. Apparently, there was a lot going on today and ammunition was apparently needed.

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