Chapter 08

Vera, that was all she had been given, a name. She had no loved ones, no friends, and her past shrouded in mystery. Well, that’s not entirely accurate, Vera did have one other thing. Experience. For as far back as she could remember, she had been at war.

The truck shuddered at every bump on the uneven road, Vera was used to such things by now. She lifted the curtain in the back to view the war-blasted landscape. Her gaze drifted to the ever-constant gray skies.

It was difficult to see normally, but when Starfalls happened — pieces of ancient space debris from a bygone age falling through the sky — you could almost see the shimmering wave of mysterious energy which encased the region in an oppressive dome.

How exactly did they pierce through the veil? Why were they suspended in mid-air? Was there a possible way through the void? What was on the other side?

These were questions that Vera didn’t need to consider as she gazed up at the dull clouds smothering the skies, the only openings coming from previous Starfall events, which would soon be covered by the overcast of clouds.

Vera was what could charitably be called an outlaw. Less charitable terms would be insurgent, terrorist, war criminal, rebel, mercenary and other less-than-flattering terms. Not that it really mattered though, Vera did what she needed to survive in this messed up prison of a world; other people had done far worse things.

She sat in the back of a moving truck alongside other people from various walks of life, but the vast majority of them were in the same line of work as she was. Grim, haunted faces that she’d come to recognize; the look of people who’d seen hell in their fights against the killing fields against the likes of the Soluna Consortium, The FSA, The Katasian Republic, New Genesis, the Jericho Conclaves, The Cults of the Dome, or even the planet’s many disassociated factions or deadly hostile wildlife.

Of course the wealthy masters of the factions would never see war, they always had an endless parade of bodies ready to fight and die for a dream they’d never see. In between the factions, the ones fighting for their survival would find their way here at some point. Their wars may end, treaties may be signed, hostilities eased, factions that fought to the death one day could be allies the next. The powers that be were done with war and they expected their soldiers and mercenaries to pack up and go home; but war wasn’t done with them, it was all they knew.

“No way that Void-Rabbit can beat Overhaul, I’ve seen Overhaul in person, nearly broke my goddamn neck!”

“No seriously, look at my data and projections! Void-Rabbit has been lying about what their power actually is! By my calculations, Void-Rabbit, if they got serious, could serve as an effective hard-counter to Overhaul!”

“Overhaul literally beat a category-5 hellbeast on his own, come on man!”

And then there were these guys. These two, codenamed Slipspace and Overwatch. One who dressed like he blew through a clothing store and grabbed whatever random thing he could see, and the other who was almost never seen without a holo-screen or two in front of him.

These two lived in their own world, they were supposed to be mercenaries like Vera, but they were completely hopeless in a firefight. If they didn’t have unique skills required for the mission, Vera would’ve dropped them off at the first unincorporated town she passed. She didn’t need to babysit people who were a liability to her continued survival.

As the two’s conversation continued, getting more animated and they started attracting annoyed looks from the other people in the truck — possibly considering if they could assassinate the two of them without getting immediately double-tapped in the head by Vera — she cleared her throat, loud enough for the two of them to take notice, then she shot them a look which needed no words.

Looking sheepish, the two boys quieted down and resumed their individual activities.

Slipspace, aka Evan just looked out the back of the truck, while a ghostly figure sat beside him. That was part of his power.

And as for Overwatch, he just continued typing things. She didn’t know his real name, no one did. Not unusual, but he seemed like an upper crust kid from a wealthy family. Why he threw his lot in with mercenaries, she had no idea.

Why in the stars did she have to play mother to two boys old enough to know better. At least they were almost to their destination.

Contrasting those two however…

A gray-eyed girl with long platinum hair covered by a red hat which stood in contrast to her color-muted cloak and garb, was showing a pair of cards to another boy who wore a strange mask that covered his entire face which juxtaposed his nondescript cloak. Dawn and Ghost were their handles.

It seemed like she was trying to show him a card trick, a simple sleight of hand which Vera could follow. Dawn seemed pretty excited to show the trick, as evident by the hair clip — actually a sophisticated holo-projector that they bought in one of the border towns — projected sparkling stars around her face.

Ghost, didn’t seem to react much if at all.

This caused a raincloud to form above Dawn’s head, dejected.

The entire exchange passed wordlessly, and for good reason. Dawn had been with Vera since the early days, and the young girl had basically followed Vera from battlefield to battlefield like a lost puppy, so she knew all about why Dawn couldn’t ever say a word.

Ghost on the other hand, he was an odd one, she’d picked him up a short while ago. He’s pretty good in a fight, but Vera had no idea where he came from, also he must’ve been either chromed or super-powered since he’d regularly survived encounters and injuries that any regular person would’ve died from.

These four — well, technically five if you count Slipspace and his sister as two separate individuals — people encompassed Vera’s cell, often times she felt less like the team leader and more like the den mother to a group of naïve children.

‘Kids like these have no place on the battlefield.’ The one cold comfort Vera could think of was that while their upcoming job was dangerous, it’d probably be the last one if everything went according to plan. Which… they almost never do, but Vera’s client had paid upfront and offered her something she couldn’t refuse. So, she’d see this job through even if it killed her.

She felt the truck stopped and poked her head out the back curtain, the convoy of trucks had finally arrived at their destination; phase one of the plan would start soon.