Age of Space

Returning back outside the building, Ronin and the assault team were immediately informed on the battle against the unknown force.

The Hammers of Fortune had been attacked from behind, ambushed without knowing what was going on. It had also happened at the worst possible moment, right as they were assaulting Specter's lair. Further, with the enemy force mostly attacking from the air, the Hammers had been forced to divert most of their supporting starfighters. This had caused massive disruptions to their assault on Specter. Safe to say, the Hammers had been on the back foot.

But this mercenary group was famous for a reason. After their starfighters turned around, the unknown force were now the ones struggling. And now? With Specter's lair conquered? The question of if they'd win, had turned into a question of when they'd win.

[We’ve got aerial superiority, but they’re fighting like cowards. Every time we advance, they retreat. It's almost as if they’re intentionally stalling us!] The wing commander of the Hammers shouted over the intercom.

[I’m at ground level and have visual contact with one of the downed enemy ships,] a female voice broke in.

After a brief pause, she continued, [I see an insignia on the ship now. Hang on, isn’t that the insignia of Executive Actions?]

The wing commander guffawed back, [Executive Actions?! They're still in business?] Laughter could be heard over the intercom before he continued, his voice now clearly more confident, [no wonder they were behaving so cowardly! Let’s throw everything we have at these buffoons!]

Ronin looked over at Haxel. “Have you met those guys before?”

Haxel flashed a grin, “nope, but we know of them. Executive Actions are a mercenary company known for fleeing the battlefield. Very few even hire them anymore. The wing commander must have held back our forces in fear of another ambush, or a scheme of some sort. But if it's Executive Actions however...” The black clothed man chuckled, shaking his head. "It's more likely they've accepted a bad contract and are now just stalling. Their probably just dragging it out in an attempt to salvage what little reputation they have left."

As the Hammers of Fortune’s starfighters began ramping up the battle in the air, the newly freed up ground forces advanced as well. After dealing with Specter's defenses, plenty of members were now free to aid the forces fighting at the backlines.

As Haxel and the rest of the vanguard moved back through the tunnel towards district 101, Ronin followed. But he did not follow them towards their battlefield. There was another battlefield waiting for him, and time was of the essence. The two mercenary companies could have their fight... His grudge was... it was with someone else.

Argus was sitting down on the old couch, trying and failing to remain calm. How could this happen? Someone had literally just started a full-blown war against them out of nowhere. On top of that, the bases that were supposed to have been veiled to the uninitiated, had been directly attacked the moment the enemy showed up!

Fortunately, they’d attacked Specter’s facility first, but after?

A jolt of pain from his missing finger brought him back to reality. The air in the room felt… frantic. People were quickly moving around, talking in hushed voices as they passed.

“What’s the latest update on the situation?” He asked, lifting himself up from the couch.

Egil, his head of intelligence, walked over. Meekly rubbing his hands together, he began, “sir… as you know, shortly after the group we believe to be the Hammers of Fortune attacked, the group you hired to grab Ronin, engaged the Hammers.”

“Yes? I know what Executive Actions did, why are you stalling? What’s changed?”

“About two minutes ago, I was informed that Executive Actions lost the battle. The entirety of the Hammers of Fortune’s remaining forces, after taking Specter's base, turned their focus on them. Executive Actions were forced to flee shortly after.”

Argus knew where this was going. Still, he had to ask, “And now?”

“They’re coming, sir. All of them. We estimate it will take about 20 minutes before they arrive.”

Argus had his answer. His forces wouldn't stand a chance against the Hammers. It was time to leave. “Ready a shuttle a soon as poss—”

BOOM!

A loud explosion shook the entire building. He looked at Egil, only to see his head of security being just as surprised as himself. Didn’t they have 20 minutes?

After launching a few missiles at the shuttles surrounding Argus’s compound, Ronin waited around outside. After storming Specter’s defenses and nearly dying in the process, he’d chosen a more conservative strategy this time.

The important thing here was to prevent anyone from escaping. And there's no way I’m letting that happen, he thought, reminded of the 18 million credits he’d spent on this. He wouldn’t be hiring mercenaries again. Not with that amount of credits as the price. What they managed to clean up today, that would be it.

Time passed as guards began exiting the compound. But it didn’t end there. Men came out from foggy alleyways, down the road on monowheels, out from nearby buildings… all of them, searching for him. Turns out, people got a little antsy when you launched missiles at them.

The guards didn't have to search long. Ronin wasn’t hard to find. As opposed to his Heromaker, the warsuit had no soundproofing. Every step the power armor made, could easily be heard by anyone nearby.

I’ll only have to stall for a few minutes. How hard can it be? He thought as he saw the guards coming closer.

Opting for a hit and run strategy, he began circling the surrounding buildings. He made sure to vary his route so as to remain unpredictable. Wouldn’t do him much good to get ambushed around the next corner.

The one-wheeled bikes these guys always seemed so fond of however, were much faster than his warsuit. Men on bikes attempted to pull up alongside him, firing weapons the moment they were in range. He fired back with weapons of his own, either scaring them off, or putting them down. His rapid-fire lasers worked wonders here and with the surrounding buildings providing cover, the chase wouldn’t be ending anytime soon...

Time passed, and he saw more and more guards begin popping up around him. They'd begun encircling him and in response, Ronin started getting more... creative.

“…”

This is actually kind of fun, he thought as he ran through another building. A drug den of some sorts by the looks of it. Men and women fled to the side screaming as he bulldozed his way ahead. Tables toppled over and the white powder on them was knocked into the air. His nose picked up faint traces of fantasia dust through the helmet. Yeah, definitely a drug den.

Being inside of a 3-meters tall warsuit, he’d been forced to run in a bent over position so as to not touch the ceiling. He probably looked ridiculous, running around in a halfway crouch, bent over like a kyphotic hunchback as he bumbled his way through the rooms. But hey, if it worked, it worked.

Exiting the building, he was met by a couple of guards, waiting. They’d probably just gotten lucky, or unlucky depending on how you looked at it. Not that it mattered much to Ronin. Their lasguns barely managed to put a dent in his energy shield before he fired back, neutralizing the threat, then moved on.

The cat and mouse game continued, and the guards attempted, several times, to set up a blockade. But with how randomly Ronin moved, as well as how often his pot shots hit their targets, they never managed to stop him.

Eventually, their chase was interrupted by starfighters flying in from above, reigning down fire on anyone out in the open. All the ships bore a similar logo of a hammer, smashing open a chest of gold. The Hammers of Fortune had arrived.

With all of Argus’s ships already taken out, and his men out in the open, the starfighters made quick work of the compound's defenses.

Shockwaves from nearby explosions boomed across the battlefield and fog lit up in bright yellow flashes of light. Buildings collapsed; their burning rubble spreading across the streets.

Amidst the destruction, dark silhouettes began emerging. At least a hundred strong, they moved in 5-man teams, spreading smoothly across the battlefield as they circumvented the rubble. Flowing in perfect coordination as they did so, they went from door to door, clearing out the few buildings left standing.

“Tin can! Hey, tin can— over here!” One of those dark silhouettes shouted over the chaos.

Ronin turned, spotting a figure waving at him amidst the black clothed men.

“I see you’ve decided to come early! Nice of you to leave some for the rest of us!” The figure continued, his voice not lowering at all. If anything, he just became louder and louder as he went on.

“Haxel!? You’re at the front lines again?!” Ronin roared back.

“No rest for the wicked, tin can! No rest for the wicked!”

Ronin made his way over. “Couldn’t let Argus escape,” he breathed out as he reached the man. He looked over the battlefield, gathering himself for a moment. “I knew they had shuttles here, ready to go. Didn’t want to chance him running off while you guys dealt with Executive Actions.”

“Yeah, I get that. Those guys came out of nowhere. You guys weren’t holding back on the intel you gave us, right?” Haxel replied, raising an eyebrow.

Ronin shook his head. “No way. Payment is not an issue for our company. We’d never do something like that. Heart of hearts, we were as clueless as you about these guys.”

“Uh Huh?” Haxel did not look convinced.

“…”

While the two of them talked, it did not take long before the area was cleared. Only Argus’s compound was left now.

With its subpar defenses, the Hammers quickly breached the compound and began clearing out the last remaining dregs of resistance. Ronin chose to hang back, although, judging from the buzz over the intercom, it would not be for long:

[Alright— contractor, we’re going to need your eyes on this. We’ve got a bit of a situation here which might be of interest to you guys,] the leader of the company said, sounding amused.

Why would Dravenic call me over? Could they have found something? If so, what? Ronin wondered as he made his way up the stairs and into Argus’s room.

In front of him, he was met by something he’d never imagine even in his wildest dreams. Argus, on his knees, was currently loudly begging for his life: “I have information, crucial information about Specter! Just please spare my life!”

A shadow of his previously confident self, Argus looked like a completely different person.

“Thought you’d want to see this,” Captain Dravenic said, his lips curved into a slight smirk as he looked down upon the begging man.

Behind his faceguard, Ronin couldn’t help but do the same, “Oooh, I do. I do indeed.”

Walking over to the blonde muscular man, Ronin asked, “I killed that man myself less than an hour ago. What use could your information possibly have now?”

Argus seemed to have expected that question, as he continued, “whomever you’ve killed, I doubt it’s Specter. That's why I’m saying I have valuable information!”

Ronin gave the man a skeptical look, but inside, he was shocked. It did feel a little too easy. Specter is infamous for being something akin to a ghost, and for him to just be sitting there, waiting for us as his base was being overrun? It didn’t make sense.

“Alright Argus, you’ll have to excuse me, but I’m going to need a little more information first, if I am to spare you. Considering what you’ve done, you can understand right?”

“Yes yes, I understand,” the begging man said, seemingly saying whatever he could to survive.

On Ronin's request, the Hammers brought out a projection device. He promptly uploaded an image his suit had recorded into the device, and the image began materializing in front of Argus.

As the hologram became clearer, the gaunt man from the haunting, bone-filled room, also became visible. There was a shift in Argus’s expression the moment he saw the man. “No, that's not Specter. That's Isamellos. He's the one in charge of internal supply,” he broke in.

“Internal supply?” Ronin felt a shiver run through him as he thought about the possible implications behind those two words.

“Y-yes, he mainly dealt with the people being supplied to the boss,” Argus said, confirming Ronin’s suspicions.

Supplied to the boss, huh...

All of those hopeless eyes, men and women shuffling towards their doom, only to be added onto the pile, slowly building upon the mountains of human suffering already there.

Ronin made up his mind, “Okay Argus. You have yourself a deal. We will spare your life in return for your information. Now, start talking.”

If there was even a hint of a possibility that the Ghost Butcher was still around, Ronin needed to know.

“…”

Time passed as Argus began laying out anything from Specter's rise, his connections, to even his speech patterns and general cadence as a person. The Ghost Butcher's appearance was supposedly that of a short, stout figure with white hair. He looked young, but the way he talked was completely different from what one would expect from someone that age.

Argus kept on emphasizing that point. Specter didn’t sound human. The way he thought and reasoned was completely different from anything he’d ever encountered. It was impossible to guess what was on his mind at any given time. Argus went on and on about it.

Eventually though, Ronin had had enough.

“Alright, say no more. I think we’ve gone over everything at this point,” he breathed out.

“Does that mean you’ll spare my life?” Argus asked, looking up at him with expectant eyes.

“Yes, but first— everyone here, leave the room. I want some alone time with this guy,” Ronin said, sweeping his gaze over the Hammers.

Like the professionals they were, the mercenaries quickly exited, leaving Ronin to finish his business. Fear could be seen dawning on Argus’s face.

“What are you—”

“Shut it.” Ronin cut him off, then began exiting his armor. “Do you remember this face?” he asked as the gears and servos worked. The faceguard lifted, revealing his head.

“Wait, you’re the brat— I-I mean Ronin,” Argus stammered.

The armor opened up, and Ronin walked out.

“I said I’d spare your life, and I aim to keep that promise. As to what shape you will be in once you leave this room however…” Ronin cracked his knuckles as he approached. “It will depend on how well you fight...”

Argus seemed confused as he stared at the boy voluntarily exiting his own armor. Was this kid really going to fight him with his own bare hands?

“Rise up Argus! Rise up! It's time to fight for your body! It's time to fight for your health!”

“…”

30 minutes later, and Argus was laying down on the floor, his body showing severe signs of being beaten.

To Ronin’s surprise, Argus had been incredibly strong. After reaching the 11th stance in the Kalvrakian embrace, Ronin’s strength had already far surpassed what was possible for baseline humans. In spite of that however, Argus had actually somewhat managed to keep up with him in the beginning.

“Now, you don’t blame me, do you?” Ronin asked, squatting down besides the beaten man.

Argus’s swollen face squinted up at Ronin’s in indignation.

“Listen, you’ve ordered my death on multiple occasions… I spent a month on Exodon, where I had to fight for my life—more than once, by the way—because of you. Put yourself in my shoes. What would you have done if I did something like that to you?”

Argus didn’t answer, but Ronin already had the answer he was looking for.

“Would you have spared my life? I think not. You're not crippled in any way, you're alive. You’re not even in prison. I’m a reasonable man if you think about it. If anything, I’m the most reasonable man in the city.”

“What more do you want?” Argus croaked out.

“Well, how about this? If you call off that bounty you’ve placed on my head right now, I'll let it go. This grudge was between me and Specter to begin with.”

With great effort, Argus made the calls needed, lisped out the required words, and canceled the bounty.