Mercenary. Scrapper. Part 2

Chapter 1. Stranded

Serena forced her hover bike forward, accelerated to an extreme. She feared if she were to push it harder, the engines could burst. But she desperately needed the speed to get away.

The beginning sand storm was making it harder to fly through the canyon, trying to escape her pursuers, but she hoped that her twists and turns, which made her a harder target, would allow her to eventually shake the men off.

Her hopes were futile. An explosion sounded, and a burst of rocks sprayed her, forcing her to swerve aside. Only a moment passed and another missile hit the rock next to her, missing her by a split second. This time a piece of the rubble knocked her on the side, forcing her to swerve again.

Growling from pain, the woman continued her way, searching for any signs of her allies around. But the thick fog of bloody red sands that filled the air made it almost impossible to see any further than a few dozens of meters in front.

Time was running out. A little more and the sands will become even thicker.

Serena heard another missile flying, and darted away, but a little too late – the explosion hit the ground right under her, throwing the hover bike up and to the side. The hit was so strong, that Serena felt herself losing the grip of her flying device, flung into the air, and then she went tumbling – first on the sandy ground, and then off a cliff into the thick bloody sandstorm that rumbled below.

Her pursuers slowed down and stopped to examine the hover bike, then took a look around, glancing over the edge, but found no sign of the woman being there. Gesturing to each other, they quickly loaded the half-destroyed hover bike onto their small craft and disappeared into the sands.

Way below the cliff, in the rumble and tumble of the storm, the body of a woman hung caught in the dark, thick roots of the plants that grew from the rocky heights. Perhaps, it was for the best that she was knocked out during the fall, when the roots caught her, wrapping her legs in their thorny embrace.

Hanging upside down, Serena didn’t see the lonesome figure approaching. She didn’t see the tall, muscular man climbing up to her. She didn’t feel him ripping the thorns and vines off her body and feet.

The man, who was hiding his face from the storm by a thick scarf and goggles, threw her over his shoulder, like she weighed nothing, and climbed back down to the things he left there before ascending the rocky wall to get her. Picking up his stuff, he continued his way with a new trophy.

The man walked calmly, knowingly, turning in the twisted maze of the canyon, until he reached a small opening of a cave. Stepping inside, he followed the passage deeper into the dark, until he reached a split and took the left one.

Something growled from the other passage, but the man ignored the sound, seemingly used to hearing it. Walking through the corridor, he began to dust himself off and took off his scarf and goggles that protected his eyes from the sands. His eyes glowed in the dark – faint golden and lavender sparks appearing in his irises, allowing him to see the path without any sort of light.

He took another few turns in the maze of this underground labyrinth until he reached a wide cavern. Throwing the woman from his shoulder aside, he glanced out, taking a few moments to listen to the sounds of caves surrounding him, ignoring the trickle of water that flowed by one of the walls of the cavern, forming a small basin, and grabbed the boulder next to the entrance, moving it into place to close up the archway.

Finally, he grabbed one of the legs of his trophy and dragged her deeper into the cavern, leaving her at the far end. The man lit up some sconces and torches, illuminating the cavern, and kneeled next to the unconscious woman. A few seconds he studied her beautiful, though dirty, face, and then began patting her down to see what useful things she could have. He smirked at her utility belt, where he found a couple of weapons, then took off her bag and ruffled through the few possessions she had in it, and, finally, opened her jacket to see if there was anything else of worth. He froze, noticing the black rounded triangle of her nano armour on her chest and slowly straightened, gritting his teeth.

His – now black – eyes became hard and almost raging.

He looked aside and seemed to consider his options before rudely grabbing the woman by her clothes and dragging her to one of the big boulders in the corner, which had old blood stains and a couple of chains affixed to it. Working quickly and confidently, he clasped the cuffs onto the woman’s hands and feet, placing her sitting on the floor with her back to the boulder, her hands stretched out and her feet lying on the stone floor, too far apart to try and kick him when she wakes up.

After checking the woman’s bindings, the man walked over to what looked like a kitchen area and began to prepare his dinner, thinking of the woman no more.

Chapter 2. Renegade

Serena slowly felt her senses coming back to her. She first felt her head spinning, and then opened her eyes, trying to figure out how hard of a fall she experienced. Everything ached and she tried moving her head first, feeling dizzy. The smallest movement caused her pain, and she decided to give herself a bit more time before moving again. Closing her eyes, she submerged into the darkness, incapable to fight it.

When she woke up the next time, she found herself in the dark and her body still ached terribly. The strange dizziness didn’t pass, and she couldn’t stop herself from passing out again.

Finally, she managed to push through the thick darkness that surrounded her consciousness, and swam out of it, as if fighting out of a swamp. Her eyes, still blinded by the fog, started to slowly clear, and she suddenly saw herself sitting on a bloodied stone floor. The dim light, provided by a number of torches, helped her understand that the dark, unmoving snakes she was seeing were, in fact, heavy chains. It took her a few long moments to realise that those chains ran to her ankles, immobilising her feet.

Serena forced her head up and felt the hard stone at her back, which made it a little easier to look around by leaning on it. She saw her wrists hanging from another set of chains, and closed her eyes, coming to the realisation that her escape was futile – the band of renegade mercenaries she and her team were hired to get rid of, caught her instead.

“Fuck.” she exhaled, feeling worse than before.

She heard someone walking over and turned her head to see who it was, when she noticed a very tall, extremely muscular man approaching. He was shirtless, showing his chiselled muscles and intricate tattoos on his shoulders, and his face could be described as strict, handsome, but intimidating. Black eyes looked at Serena with a very dark promise in them, which made her think of a very dangerous animal she encountered once – the Sercludian bear, which could easily destroy a regiment of soldiers, like they were toys.

Serena watched the man walk up to her, his fists tight, his bald – or closely shaved – head glistening in the shimmering light of the torches.

“You’re not one of them…” Serena tried stretching her aching back, but the way she was strung up made it impossible.

The man tilted his head to the side with a deep frown, but said nothing.

“The fuck…” Serena gave up trying to change position. “The fuck you want with me?”

The man kneeled in front of her, grabbing her face and looking into her eyes very angrily:

“Where’s your ship? Your team?”

“I have no idea… they weren’t at the rendezvous point.” Serena felt his fingers tightening on her face, causing pain.

“Who sent you?”

“We’re mercenaries, you dick!” the woman tried to free herself from his grip, but he held her too strong.

“Bullshit!” the man let her go and stood, walking over to a few boxes that stood next to his kitchen corner. He picked up one of the boxes and threw it to Serena.

The box crashed, spilling dozens – if not hundreds – of very familiar rounded triangles of Veluthian nano armour. Serena felt shock taking over her, seeing the amount of these pins, which were impossible to remove, unless the wearer was dead. The only other time the pins were removed was when they were stored within special boxes that could open only to the person who wore the armour. This was achieved by imbuing the nanites of the armour with a DNA code of the only person allowed to wear it.

“I’ve killed more than enough of you to know when you come for me.” the man said, satisfied with the effect his collection had on Serena.

“I don’t even know who you are, man…” Serena slowly raised her eyes to him. “I was sent to take care of a local renegade mercenary gang, not you.”

The man stepped up to her, landing a hefty blow to her jaw. Serena winced, feeling blood bursting from her mouth.

“Fucking hell…” she groaned, not understanding the reason for this man to be certain she came for him, when she really had no idea who he was at all. “You hit like a Veluthian… Who the fuck are you?”

The man grabbed her hair, forcing her head up to make her look at him.

“I’m the one asking questions!” he said. “Who are you? Which family do you serve?”

“I serve no one.” Serena felt his fingers tightening his grip on her hair.

“Your name, bitch!”

“Serena…” she groaned. “Serena Dal Thara-Lyss…”

The man punched her again, drawing blood:

“Liar!” he hissed, forcing her to look at the pile of armour. “See that? Each and every single one belongs to your friends and comrades from the fucking traitors that massacred the Thara-Lyss!”

The man let her go and walked off.

“I…” Serena made an effort to spit the blood from her mouth. “I survived.”

“No one survived!” the man barked. “I know!”

“I survived…” the woman looked up, trying to concentrate on his face, but he hit her so hard that she soon gave up, hanging her head.

The man’s face contorted in pure hatred and he approached her again, grabbing her chin to look into her eyes, but the woman already lost consciousness. Irritated, the man rudely released her face from his tight grip and walked off.

It took Serena a couple of hours to wake up again – this time she saw the man kneeling in front of her, watching closely with a very dangerous expression on his face.

“Give me your name.” the man said, emphasising each word, his tone harsh and low.

“Serena Dal Thara-Lyss.” the woman breathed out.

She received a number of punches to her face, each one next stronger than the one before, and couldn’t hold her head straight any more, hanging it again.

“You’re not Serena.” the man grabbed her face, causing more pain. “She’s dead.”

“I’m alive…” struggling, Serena pushed out, feeling blood tricking from her mouth.

“Let’s stop this game! Tell me your name!” the man’s fingers shook her head.

“Serena…”

Another slap connected with her cheek, and the man stood.

“Fine then.” he said, pausing for a moment. “Then tell me this… When Serena was a child, her father gifted her a bodyguard. The girl had a pet name for the man. What was it?”

He watched her closely, as Serena stayed silent for a few long moments, then the man flinched his chin in irritation and turned to leave.

“Woo… fy…” he heard behind him and froze. “I called him Woofy.”

The man’s eyes grew wider, and his expression changed from that of anger to confusion. He turned to his prisoner and frowned, seeing the woman still – with her head hanging down, unmoving and silent. Though, she seemed to be breathing – pained, straining against her body.

“What did you say?” the man took a step towards her.

“Woofy.” Serena exhaled quietly. “I was too small to say his name… so I called him… Woofy.”

She fell silent for a bit, but then a faint smile appeared on her bloodied face:

“He taught me to climb and balance… and scolded me every time he had to get me from the tallest tree in the garden.” Serena took a pause, reminiscing on the past. “He called me his little Scorpi. He said I reminded him of a creature he admired… The Golden Veluthian Scorpifly… When I was seven, my father said I was getting too attached to the man… So when Woofy was transferred… I caught him the bug as a parting gift… and he scolded me for taking such a risk, because the bug is extremely poisonous…”

The man forced himself to walk up and slowly kneeled in front of the woman, studying her attentively with his eyes. He took her chin – this time relatively softly – and raised her head to look at her face.

“When he left…” the man’s voice sounded raspy. “He gave you something…”

The woman smiled:

“A bracelet. I wore it every day until…” she suddenly fell silent again.

“Until?”

“It was destroyed.”

The man’s eyes darted about her face, showing his shock and confusion. He couldn’t believe what he heard from this woman’s mouth – she recollected the things he knew no one else could have known.

“How was it destroyed?” the man felt his mind racing. “When?”

“On the day…” Serena couldn’t make herself take her eyes off his, seeing the deep pitch black. “When my family died… by the Bima-Liss traitors… Tekkern shot my left arm off, vaporising the bracelet with it.”

The man felt a wave of panic rising, and jolted back, looking at the woman with wide eyes.

“Scorpi?!” he whispered, fear crawling into his voice.

But the woman didn’t answer, falling prey to the darkness that took her mind away from the pain he had caused.

Chapter 3. Scorpifly

The man unpacked a little bundle, and leaned over the stone, looking at the bug, encased in clear resin. The golden chitin armour of the Veluthian Scorpifly glimmered in the dim fire of the torches around, its see-through wings shimmering with greens and blues, and its venomous tail suspended as if the bug was about to strike. He thought for a moment, then turned to the woman, who was still chained by the rock.

Realising that every bit of information the woman had said to him was impossible to be known by someone other than Serena, the man felt guilt crawling into his heart. He sighed, collecting himself, and walked over to the woman, beginning to unclasp the chains.

When her body, no longer held by the bindings, fell to the stone floor, the man froze for a few moments, reaching out to her face and putting her hair behind her ear to get a better look. Even though her skin was dirty from sands and blood, he saw that the bruises he left on her were already healing – her Veluthian body was recovering.

One fact bothered him, though – the way she was becoming unconscious for these few days meant there was something he never considered happening to her. The man carefully picked her up and carried her over to the sleeping corner, where a flat slab of rock, covered by some thick fur served him as a bed. He laid her down, slowly undoing her jacket and pulling up her shirt. When he saw her sides blackened by bruises, he thought that she must have gotten her ribs broken during her fall.

Gritting his teeth, the man walked off to the boxes he stored near the kitchen and took out a small hand-held scanner and a bag of medical supplies. He returned to the woman, putting the bag aside for a bit and scanning her from head to toe, his eyes becoming even darker with each injury the scanner registered.

After the scanning was complete, the man forced down an urge to throw the scanner into the wall, and quickly opened the bag, unravelling rows of empty compartments where capsules of medicine were usually kept. He grabbed the last two and shoved one into the automatic syringe, then stabbed the woman in her thigh, administering the liquid. When the empty capsule flew out, ejected by the syringe, he shoved the second one in and stabbed the unconscious woman in her neck.

After this was done, he threw the syringe onto the bag and took a few moments, taking in the severity of the whole situation. He knew very well that the woman’s regeneration was already working hard on fixing every bit of damage dealt by both – the fall and his beating – but the thought that he caused some of these injuries hit him hard.

The man gritted his teeth again, looking at the woman, and took a deep breath, before collecting the medical supplies and returning to the kitchen, deciding on distracting himself from what he had done.

Hours passed, as Serena lay on his bed, recovering, until she slowly came to her senses again. She felt different, and at first didn’t understand what happened while she was knocked out, but then felt the soft fur that emanated a thick, heavy scent, and the warmth of a thin blanket thrown over her. She gave herself a bit of time before moving, but as soon as she tried to push herself up, she felt her body protesting with a sharp pain that hit her in the gut. A quiet groan escaped her mouth, as she gave in and lay back down, understanding that even if she does get up, she won’t be able to go anywhere in her current state.

Instead, she turned her head, still feeling the faint aching at the base of her skull, and looked around.

The cavern she was in was dimly lit by torches, which flickered and danced in the obvious airflow, which occurred inside due to the imperceptible cracks in the walls. The smoke must have been filtering out the same way – through the same cracks up in the ceiling, making it impossible to suffocate when inside. Serena heard the trickle of water somewhere near, but couldn’t see where it was, because it seemed to be hidden from her sight by a set of stones.

The woman tried hard to see any way of exiting the cavern, but didn’t see a single arch or pathway that could have been leading out. Closing her eyes and feeling herself helpless, she forced through the pain in her arm to reach up and feel her ear for the communication earpiece, but found it missing.

Through her scrambled thoughts she remembered the stranger who kept her chained up and understood that he must have taken the device from her when he captured her.

Serena tried to take a deeper breath, and felt her ribs aching, denying her of air. Closing her eyes, the woman thought if she could even do anything when her tormentor will return. She tried to feel around for any sort of weapon she could use, but the only thing she found caused her to frown. The woman couldn’t sit up to see what lay beside her, but she could feel the object being formed like a small brick – smooth sides and rounded edges, big enough for her to grab it. She couldn’t know if it was fragile or not, but decided that it was enough to at least withstand one hit she could land to her captor’s face. She felt a little better, knowing that she had a chance to at least try and fight back.

She must have drifted into sleep, because she came to her senses only when she felt someone sitting next to her on the bed and touching her neck, checking the pulse. The woman gripped the brick in her fingers, hoping she will have enough strength to make the blow hard enough to knock her captor out.

Serena slowly opened her eyes, seeing the man leaning in, and noticed his eyes widen in surprise. Without a single moment to waste she jerked her hand up, landing a perfect hit onto his temple, crashing the object in her hand exactly onto the point she wanted. The man flew off the bed, and Serena fell with him, hitting him again and feeling her strength already failing her. As she hit him for the third time, she heard him whisper:

“I yield…”

She didn’t hear what he said next, falling on top of him and her consciousness slipping away once more.

The man lay there for a few seconds, before gently embracing the woman with one arm.

“You’ve grown up strong, my little Scorpi.” he sighed, feeling proud and happy that the woman he found was, in fact, his ward in the distant past.

He waited for any sort of reply, but the woman remained silent, and he carefully raised her face, noting that she had passed out again.

“I’m so proud of you, Serena.” the man sighed and rolled her over to the side to get her back to bed.

When he was picking her up, he heard something fall and looked at what the woman had used to knock him down, surprised to see the resin-encased Scorpifly on the floor. Smirking at the fact Serena used this trinket to defend herself, he laid the woman down and sat next to her, picking up the preserved bug and looking at the thing with a smile on his lips.

“You really are a Scorpi, Serena…” the man chuckled, touching the woman’s shoulder. “You sting like hell.”

He stayed with her, until she finally opened her eyes again. Seeing the man there, she closed her eyes for a few moments, forcing down the painful feeling of defeat.

“Hi, Scorpi.” the man said quietly, watching her face. “Please don’t sting me again.”

Serena looked up at him and saw the deep gash on his temple – the one she left when landing her blow to his head. The man raised the bug for her to see and Serena frowned, recognizing the critter.

“The Golden Veluthian Scorpifly…” the man smiled. “Your present, Serena.”

The woman saw the blood stain on the resin encasing and looked at the man, trying hard to recognise him.

“I thought you were dead, Scorpi…” the man put the bug down next to her head. “I thought, you were killed during the Bima-Liss attack.”

“I survived.” Serena felt her voice being coarse and raspy.

The man reached out and touched her face, smiling:

“I’m so happy you did.”

Serena finally caught on to the dark eyes and the soft gaze, realizing that the man before her was the same man who taught her about balance, climbing and fighting when she was a child.

“Woofy?” she caught herself on calling him by the name she gave him a very long time ago, but correcting herself almost instantly. “Wolfin?”

She forced through her weakness and pain, pushing herself up. The man watched her struggling, but didn’t move to help, still weary of her being able to pull another trick.

“You remember me.” he said, seeing her lean over the rock behind her, wincing.

Serena lowered her gaze and studied the man attentively:

“I remember you being more scrawny.” she noted, looking up at his face again.

Wolfin cackled, admitting that he really did look differently all those years ago.

“It’s been a long time, Serena. A lot has changed.” he said. “You grew up strong, and you still sting like hell, my little Scorpi.”

Serena glanced at the preserved bug which was still stained by Wolfin’s blood.

“Though, now your sting is way more hefty.” the man chuckled, standing up and heading towards the kitchen area. “You need sustenance. Do you think you’ll be able to eat something and keep it down?”

The woman glanced around, thinking about her bag and wandering what the man did with her stuff while he kept her chained up.

“My bag…” she felt something cracking into place and bared her teeth, trying hard not to groan from the sharp shot of pain that run through her body.

A few long moments passed, when the pain subsided, and she opened her eyes to see Wolfin watching her with a hint of concern on his face. He saw her muscles relaxing and handed her the bag he found on her. The woman took it, still feeling her body weak and strained, and looked inside, not hoping to see anything there, but finding the flask and the few sustenance bars she had with her when she went to scout out the renegade mercenary crew before she was noticed and chased down into the canyons. Taking the flask, Serena froze for a moment and glanced at Wolfin, as if thinking about something, before taking out something else – something he didn’t see when he searched her bag.

She noticed his brows twitch in surprise, as she got the emergency syringe ready and gave herself a shot into the neck, feeling the painkillers immediately helping her with the pain.

“Any more surprises in there?” Wolfin tilted his head.

Serena took a big sip from her flask, feeling the sting of alcohol reaching her throat, and took a moment to answer: