Vignettes of Betrayal
2500, << location? >>
Tony tried desperately to cover his body, but the blows always managed to find a soft spot. Curled up in a ball, he could faintly hear his sister screaming over the blood pounding in his ears and the sharp punctuations of fists on flesh.
"Stop it!" screamed Min. "Stop it! You're killing him!"
Tony groaned as a kick found his stomach and tried his best to fall unconscious. He could just feel the world slipping away, almost taste the sweet release of a concussion, when the brutality suddenly stopped. Gasping, flopping like a fish on the dock, he managed to roll over.
Min was pinned against the rough walls of the alley. An older boy had her arms and an ugly girl with straw-blonde hair had her hand clamped over Min's mouth. Tony was surrounded by a loose circle of savage children. Their clothes were splattered with blood. His blood, he realized blearily. Quite a bit of his blood.
Children near the mouth of the alley began to slowly part, like a pack of mangy hyenas, before the entrance of an old, dark skinned woman. She had a red kerchief tied neatly over her coarse, dark hair. Large earrings dangled from her squat ears and rings glinted on her fingers, making Tony squint and then grimace from the pain of moving his face.
Silence descended over the small space. The woman considered Tony for several moments before turning her attention to Min. "You workin' my streets?" the woman asked in a quick, clipped manner of speaking that was difficult to follow.
"No. No, we just needed food..." Min sputtered as her captor removed her hand.
"So, yes? You turned pockets on my streets? Ty saw you do it. Lifted a pocket or two, he said."
Min slumped. "We had to eat. We just needed to eat."
"Ty said your boy is pretty good."
Min stared at the ground and said hollowly, "We had to--"
"I'm not a lawman," the woman interrupted. "You steal. I steal. But you lifted on my streets. You stole from me. You'll pay me back now. I'll be takin' the boy w'me."
Min looked lost and confused. The confident girl that Tony knew seemed to crumple. He tried to surge off the pavement, to shout, to claw his way to his sister. Instead, he barely managed to flop forward and gasp in pain.
"No..." whispered Min. "No, he's my brother. I can't..."
The woman's face softened and she smiled a sad smile. "I'll feed him. Teach him. He's better w'me. You can't take care of him. I can." Then motherly smile slid off her face and her eyes hardened into flint. "'Sides, either you leave him with me, or I kill you and you still leave him with me. Be smart, punta."
Min started crying, but she kept her eyes down. She shrugged away from the grip of the boy holding her and stumbled away down the alley, out toward the main streets. She did not look back.
"It's OK little one," the woman crooned. "You'll be safe with Madre. You are scrawny. Poco." She turned to one of the older boys. "Make sure Poco gets cleaned up and fed. Couple free meals, then he needs to work for his food. Needs to earn his keep."
Poco was still stunned as the gang that had just been tormenting him pulled him to his feet. She hadn't looked back.
2504, << location? >>
Poco slouched against the wall nervously, trying to appear nonchalant--a harmless piece of flotsam washed up against the stucco. His hands left sweaty prints on the rough stone. His small, close-set eyes scanned the crowded street, flitting rapidly from one hustling figure to the next. His foot tapped out an irregular, distracted rhythm on the dusty pavement. Perfectly calm.
"Settle," barked Toad. "We go soon now. You do great." The older boy smiled encouragingly down at Poco, his meaty warts crinkling into the deep folds on his cheeks. The wide display of teeth looked odd on the boy's squashed, unfortunate face. Toad only really smiled when doing violence. In fact, Toad only lived to do violence. Everything else was waiting.
As if on cue, Poco heard the first annoyed shouts ring out from around the corner. Poco could see the scene playing out in his mind's eye. A troupe of dirty children tumbling through the door of the alderman's fabric shop. A seemingly innocent game of street ball, bursting into the quiet, clean sanctity of rich silks and wools. He had been part of that team many times. The decoys that kept the shopkeep busy while the older children worked. Today his part would be in back.
Toad eased off the wall and started making his way across the street, beckoning Poco to follow. With a start, Poco shuffled nervously into the lanky boy's wake. By the time they reached the shop's back door, several people in the crowd were craning their heads toward the rising commotion around the corner. Toad paused, large eyes scanning up and down the street, before he eased open the door and pushed Poco into the cramped storeroom.
While Toad checked for any unexpected employees, Poco peeked out through the heavy drapes separating the storeroom from the front of the shop onto a scene of total chaos. Half a dozen street urchins bounced about, pulling down bolts of fabric, covering expensive silks in dirty handprints, and trampling exquisite furs as they dodged and weaved between the alderman's legs. Poco's mind wandered as he watched the children scamper about the tailor's shop like mad fairies.
"The trick to a good distraction," Madre would always say, "is to upset their 'spectations. Rich folk like poor folk to be out on the street corner, so's as they know where they are, but can pass 'em by. Go where you're not suppos'd to be. Do what you ain't suppos'd to do. They'll be so paralyzed by the sticks up their--"
"Poco," Toad croaked, jarring him out of his daydream. "All clear. Do job, remember?" As punctuation, the larger boy grabbed Poco by the collar and shoved him into the heavy blast door on the far wall. Poco staggered and steadied himself against the cold steel of the door, and cast a wary glance back at Toad. The boy was smiling again. A real smile this time.
Shuddering and trying to settle nervous hands, Poco prised the maintenance panel from the wall next to the door with his multi-tool and pulled a bundle of wires out of the cavity. The design was simple enough. A live was carrying the main power into the locker, which looked pretty complicated and had lots of flat boards connected to the keypad with flat cables. There was also a shutter connected to the entire thing, which he supposed was supposed to jam the door shut if anyone tried to jump the lock. "Well reng gou shi yóuxíng [throw me a shit parade]," he muttered under his breath and quickly pulled another gob of cables out of the wall panel. The yellling in the other room was still going strong, but they didn't have much time left.
Looking at the second bundle of wires, he sighed in relief. Some well meaning, idiotic individual had installed a safety looker that kept the door from closing while someone was standing under it. Working quickly, he jumped the looker and then the locker and stood back as the door slid silently upward.
Before he could revel in his achievement, Toad pushed roughly past him and ducked through the heavy door. A moment later he reappeared in the entryway. He was smiling.
"Good work," he said lazily. "Too good. You too good." He shook his head sadly as if this was the most unfortunate thing in the world. "Madre start to like you. Like you more than Toad. Too bad you too good."
Poco was so shocked at the number of words that Toad had just spoken that he was caught by surprise as the boy lunged for him, roughly grabbing his face and shirt while grinning wildly. Flailing, trying to keep from falling, Poco reached for the wall but his grasping hand found one of his jumpers instead, pulling it free. There was a rush of air and a sickening crunch as the door slammed shut onto Toad's calf and heel, causing the older boy to scream out in pain.
"You jìnu de chongxi [whore's douche]!" he yelled, as Poco stumbled back out into the street. Poco stood for a moment, bewilderedly looking down at the red length of wire he was still clutching. The sound of Toad clambering to his feet snapped Poco back into focus; he turned and ran as the older boy executed a limping-lunge out of the storeroom.
"You dead!" Toad yelled after him. "When I find you! You dead!"
On that day, Poco made his first enemy.
2509, << location ? >>
Poco sighed and rolled his shoulders as he looked over the contents of the power cell compartment for the tenth time. Too much power, he thought to himself as he mentally mapped the components he could see. No safety mechanisms or reachable relays and the couplings must all be deeper in the hull. Five fat, fully charged power cells were glowing cheerfully inches under his fingers. The hairs on his arms were standing straight up.
Poco sighed again and turned around, leaning up against the pocked hull of the freighter and wiping the sweat from his brow. One of the Espa brothers, maybe Luke, was standing nervously just on the edge of the brilliant light emanating from the power cells. His twin brother was barely distinguishable in the dark, keeping watch for patrols.
"Hey, Poco," Luke, or maybe it was Tam, whispered nervously, "What's wrong? What's taking so long?"
"She's too old," Poco replied. "No safety measures. No quick release mechanisms. Hell, you probably have to remove half this plating to pull the damn things." He slipped his thumbs behind his coveralls and continued wistfully, still trying to work the puzzle in his head, "No. Nope, I could pull 'em, but I'd get fried in the process."
As soon as he uttered the sentence his brain scrambled back into the present, trying to figure out desperately how to pull the words back into his mouth. Luke/Tam's grip tightened on his compact machine gun as his eyes slid slowly to the power cells and then back to Poco before hardening ever so slightly. Shit, thought Poco.
"Uh.....right. Well, uh, you stay here. I'll check with Tam," Luke said as he backed slowly away with his gun pointed casually in Poco's general direction.
Shit, thought Poco. Damn my loose tongue. There were worse things I could've said, but not many. Luke was an indistinct smudge on the edge of the power cells' light, talking in quick snatches to his brother Tam. The glint off his barrel was pretty easy to spot however, and Poco had the distinct feeling that it would be a bad idea to make any sudden moves.
Luke moved back into the light with his machine pistol raised and pointed directly at Poco. "Pull them," he said flatly. "Tam will make sure we aren't disturbed."
"'Come on Luke," Poco replied, spreading his hands pleadingly, "we've got a good thing going here. Going on a year now, right? How are you going to strip any more cells without me?"
"Tam's got it all figured out. Says the heats too high on power cells anyway. We do this last job, split the money two ways 'stead of three. We'll have plenty of coin until the next gig. Now, hurry up and pull them."
Poco nodded, and held up his hands, then squatted down over his bag, pulling out tools and thinking furiously. Oh, yeah, sure. I could make you a lot of money. He detached the battery from his powered drill and started wrapping a heavy strand of cabling around his largest spanner. The only catch is that you will have to kill me. He snipped the cable, connected one end to the battery lead and taped the battery down to the spanner. What's that? You think that's a great idea? Poco quickly tied the remainder of the cable to the tail of the spanner and looped the other end through a weight that he drug out of his bag. What a shock you jìnqin hóuzi [inbred monkey].
"Hey," snapped Luke, "What's taking so long. Just go over and pull it."
Poco stood up slowly, twisting the other end of the coiled wire over the battery's other terminal, completing the electromagnet. "Sorry," he said, "just needed a moment to make up this magnet." As he finished the sentence, he whipped the electromagnet into Luke's gun. The attack was awkward, but the battery was strong and got close enough to drag the gun down even as Luke opened fire. As the battery-strapped spanner hit home, Poco turned and threw the other, weighted end of the cable blindly at the power cell compartment. By sheer luck it flew into the opening and crashed into the power cells.
The resulting explosion threw Poco off of his feet, the vision of Luke melting burned into his retinas. Half blind and deaf, Poco scrambled up off the ground and started running for their hole in the fence as the security alarms of the spaceport started wailing.
On that day, Poco made his eleventh enemy.
2513, The Junkyard, Outer Rim
"Got it," said Poco as the final latch lifted off the main engine compartment.
"She's all unlocked?" asked Hin.
"Yep," grinned Poco. His grin faded quickly as he turned around and found himself nose-to-barrel with Hin's gun.
"Sorry, Poco but business is business."
"Yes," replied Poco as he mashed the small button concealed in his cuff, which caused the explosive charge in Hin's last bullet to explode in the cartridge, igniting all the rounds in the old man's gun and completely blowing off his hand. "Yes it is."
On that day, Poco made his sixteenth enemy.
2525, Persephone
Poco sighed and tapped a cigarette out of its pack as he shoved the small bag of coin into his coveralls. That gorram kid had to be the worst he'd ever seen at giving a bribe. Everything had been set up in advance, all the kid had to do was give over the money. He'd done about as good a job at that as he had at replacing the compressor on the ship's engine.
Poco glanced down at his contact's notes for this rust bucket as he stepped out of the loading bay and snorted loudly. Fool owner was trying to sell this heap of junk with an HWN. That'd take a lot more money than he'd put behind the flight clearance. Poco shook his head and snuffed his cigarette out on the ground. He had bigger problems today than cancer-causing freighters.
As he slipped into the chaos of the spaceport streets, Poco turned over the plan again in his head. All the parts fit together nicely, but it was still nagging at him. It'd be the first time that it'd be him. All those times before, he'd been on the receiving end. This would be the first time he'd be sticking it to his own crew. Circle of life, he kept telling himself. It didn't make him feel any better, but it didn't really matter. He already had an advance from the Triad. One last task, and he could get his money and be out of this cess pit.
A thief with a conscience, he thought wryly as he rounded the corner to Badger's club. Poco squared his shoulders and pushed down his guilt. They would do the same to me, he reminded himself for the thousandth time. Given enough time, they will do the same to me. He pushed into the club, brushing past security and before he knew it, he was standing on the other side of Badger's cluttered desk.
Poco shuffled his feet nervously, waiting for the stocky, dangerous man to acknowledge his presence. His fingers flickered toward his cigarettes, but he snatched them back. Badger finally finished thumbing through his smartpad and leaned back in his chair, cocking an eyebrow before asking, "Ah...Poco. My chief of mechanical acquisitions. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"The cruiser. The cruiser you had us watching," Poco said smoothly. "It's a front. All high class on the outside, but no tech on the inside. Was hoping for some easy to boost parts, but it's all junk."
"You came all the way down here to tell me that?" replied Badger, swirling his drink in its tumbler.
"Well. Yeah. You were really keen on the score. I thought you should know. Nothing there."
After a moment's pause, Badger flashed a wide smile and said, "Thanks for coming down and giving the news in person. I guess everyone's just trying to put up a good facade these days."
Poco nodded sharply and strode out of the office. Once the door slammed shut behind him, he allowed himself a ragged sigh. It's over, he thought. Time to get paid.
Badger looked thoughtfully at the door for a few moments after Poco had left. "That man," he said, pointing toward the door over his scotch, "is a terrible liar." He waved two of his associates our of the shadows and pointed at each in turn, "You. Go to the bastard's flat. Turn it upside down. You. Scrape together a crew. Nobody who runs with Poco. Rip that cruiser now."
All according to plan, thought Poco as he hustled up the steps to his small apartment. Badger was off the scent. In the few short hours since the meeting, he'd secured passage off Persephone, tied up a few loose ends, and prepped his crew. They'd hit the cruiser, make the drop directly to the Triad, and Poco would slip out with the entire take.
All of his nice, neat plans exploded into a thousand pieces as he swung open his front door to find Badger standing jauntily in his living room, bowler tipped to one side. His mind was still grabbing at the shreds of his grand strategy when Badger's two muscle bound thugs slammed into him from either side and hustled him into the cramped space of the living room.
"'ello Poco. So nice to see you again!" Badger exclaimed, leaning forward on a slender cane.
"Uh...Badger. What...?" Poco scrambled madly for the confidence he'd had before the door opened. Had he been too late? Betrayed before he could get out?
"Sssshh," replied Badger, holding up a finger to Poco's lips. "Listen very carefully, because there's something I don't think you understand. I am a middle man," Badger said with a grand gesture. "I connect sellers with buyers. And there's one rule, when you're dealing with a middle man Poco. Do you know the one rule?" Badger paused briefly as the man to Poco's left punched him viciously in the side.
"Never cut out the middle man," Badger continued with a sinister smile.
"Badger, listen. You've got it all wrong," Poco wheezed over the pain in his side. "I--"
"Poco, Poco, Poco," Badger interrupted. "I found the Triad's advance. I've got the parts from the cruiser. You've got nothing." He paused and rocked back on his heels reflectively, "Well, I guess...not nothing. Technically you have a whole gang of angry Triad thugs who are expecting you to deliver them some very expensive parts. So, you've got that going for you," he finished with another dark smile.
"What...?" Poco sputtered.
"Oh? What am I going to do with you for betraying me? Absolutely nothing. The Triad will clean you up with their usual efficiency. I'm just the middle man, see? I'm here to connect you with your murderers. Now, run along. And do have fun being tortured to death."
Poco forced himself to relax, waiting for the thugs to hammer him with more body blows, but the burly men simply released him and he half fell to the floor before catching himself. He looked up again at Badger, who made a small shooing motion, and Poco bolted.
He was halfway to the docks before he settled into the fast walk of the guilty. He still had his transport secured. That had used up a good portion of the advance, but it'd get him off planet. This is what you get, said a nagging little voice. This is what you get for being one of them.
Poco ruthlessly subdued his conscience again. There'd be time for introspection later. He was still wrestling with his demons when he rounded the corner to his transport's berth. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost missed the gang of Triad thugs hanging out not-so-nonchalantly across from his ship.
Shit, thought Poco. Word of the theft must have already spread. The Triad already knew they'd been burned. His crew knew they'd been cut out of a deal. Badger knew the whole sorry mess. Poco was doing the mental math as he slipped back around the corner and desperately thumbed out another cigarette. He had just gotten it to light when he looked up and saw her. The cancer crate from earlier today, midway through her loading process. Probably scheduled to leave within the hour.
He was prying the sides off of one of the cargo containers before he even realized what he was doing. She'll probably explode before she clears atmo, Poco thought to himself, but it's a better than what the Triad will do to me. Poco shuddered briefly as he worked the last bolt loose and started tossing some of the equipment in the container over the side of the mud bridge. Anything's better. He flung out a particularly heavy bit of junk labeled "IRP" in impressive-looking letters and levered himself into the container, pulling the side shut behind him and working the bolts back into place.
Twenty-seven, thought Poco as he settled into the small space he'd opened in the container. He'd have to make his way back to engineering as soon as possible. There was plenty of room to hole up there in the empty fire equipment lockers. Yep. It's twenty-seven.
On that day, Poco made his twenty-first through twenty-seventh enemies.
Back to Tony Malloy.
