Industrial Sector 5A, City of Hikan, Province of Norvilid (Kyuyti Southwestern Coast), northern Dantooine
15 BPD
Dream.
The word appeared like a construction of fog, and then suddenly blew away as Dante blinked, the shadows and thoughts of his dreams banished as the glaring light from the two industrial wall lights above him glared into his vision. He blinked hard twice, then twice again, as his vision slowly unblurred and he found himself staring at the source of the disturbance that had awoken him, his coworker Settimo slamming a glass of some light, vile liquid onto the top of the crates that Dante had stretched out across. His peer’s dark eyes glistened with glee as he watched the frown develop on Dante’s face, though he stepped away to lean against a wall taking a few sips of his drink.
Dante sat upright, immediately feeling the soreness in his temples which he rubbed before looking unhappily at Settimo “Was that really necessary, I haven’t gotten a good night’s rest since last month.”
Settimo shrugged “Figured you might want to warm up a little before heading back out onto the floor, Erid is in an inexorable mood today.”
Dante sighed, his foreman Erid was a angry brute, usually found at all times stalking across the workshop floor screaming various obscenities or pointed insults at the workers; the first part of his shift this morning had been nice, he had been able to do his work without much interference, and had barely seen him. “You think he would realize it’s a little difficult to work on speeder engine intakes with a brute screaming at you the entire time.”
Settimo chuckled “Yes, but then that would also require him to abandon his belief it instills something special in the crafts. Something about the anger making them more powerful.”
Dante looked up at the smirking Settimo and shook his head, and stood up fully stretching out his legs and taking a few paces back and forth across the narrow alley to stretch, looking up to the bright yellow sun that was high in the midday sky. “You planning on watching the race?”
Dante looked at Settimo with a brief look of confusion before realization crept over him “Oh, today is the big day isn’t it?”
A small laugh “Damn right, and now you and yours truly get to see if four months of neck-wringing, leg-cramping and stress inducing work was worth it, where the Fev-11 swoop of our dearly beloved Farulan Speedsters firm goes up against the other 25 best racers across the sixteen provinces, the winner to be declared champion across the whole Dominion. Surely you remember meeting our most famed racer himself, Silvano Naldo?”
Dante blinked and briefly recalled a vague memory of a tall, dark purple man with some of the shortest horns he had ever seen, almost as short as a Devorans who walked through their factory with a high degree of arrogance, that he suspected was camouflage to compensate for lack of others. “Something about short horns if I recall correctly.”
The whimsical crack made Settimo grin wider “Such mirth is uncommon from you Dante, nice to see you learning a thing or two from me. But yes, Naldo is racing the swoop today, 4th in the bookies minds to win.”
The pair started walking back to the end of the alley which led into a large bay door that would lead into the small workshop where they were employed, continuing to make cracks about the various facets of their employer. While Settimo was a new hire, brought on at the end of the last racing season, Dante had been employed with Farulan for more than six years, long enough of a time to appreciate the less savory aspects of the company. Swoop racing was a popular sport, and the competition to produce the best racing swoops each year was fierce, every team or firm seeking to re-invent some new creation that would give them the cutting edge and advantage for the new season, but they hardly ever succeeded. While Dante sought employment at Farulan for its reputation as being one of the best swoop engineers, they hadn’t been successful since his sire was young, and probably even before them; the fact that they had a racer at this year’s planetary circuit was an unprecedented event within living memory and with each season’s new fresh disappointment, growing fears over being bought out by a larger corporation were renewed and he prayed to Haryun that this year would bring victory, and more importantly, credits.
The two entered the workshop and found the usually bustling floor, with crowded workstations where engine components, craft panels and various subsystems and other components lay half assembled all abandoned, and in the back of the floor near the staircase to the upper offices a holoscreen was crowded around, presumably with the race. Settimo departed to find more refreshments, and Dante slowly joined the back of the crowd of workers, all watching as the race unfolded on the screen before them. He noticed Erid was sitting half hunched over just near the screen, the light from the screen reflecting off of the bronze chains he wore on his horns, which caused a glare for the rest of them. He adjusted to the best position to avoid the large glare, and felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see the familiar golden eyes and plum skin of Amedea, one of their senior technicians who worked on the powerplants. She offered him a simple metal cup, which he took and enjoyed the sweet taste of Melvan wine “I miss anything good?”
Ameda smiled “Yes, Naldo is doing much better than anticipated, managed to out-maneuver Drasik and Cado and has moved into second, and he’s not much behind the lead Albukan.”
Dante nodded “Dare I say after six years this place might finally have some good news.”
Amedea frowned “Don’t jinx us, I’d be happy with just second place, the payout alone would be enough to make up for all of last season’s misfortune. Can you imagine it, what would you do with all of the credits?”
Dante thought about it, he knew his co-worker had a point, the payout from races was distributed across the entire company; sure, the racer and the bosses took a hefty cut, but the rest did get a small portion even at his position of propulsion tech. He thought for a moment before shrugging “Not sure, I’ve been slowly trying to save to go back home and help pay off the remaining debts that they hold, but it would require far more credits then this place pays per month, it’s just barely enough to cover that flat of mine.”
“Well, who knows mister negative, you might just be in luck this year, it is a fickle thing.”
Before Dante could respond, he heard a murmur run through the crowd and the two ended their conversation to stare more intently at the screen, where they could see Naldo piloting the grey and red painted Farulan swoop and was nearly neck and neck with the lead racer, just a few kilometers from the end of the race. This last portion of the circuit was notorious for being treacherous, the long narrow straits of the last few klicks replaced with winding circles, sharp twists and turns that more than once spelled an end for an otherwise excellently run race, incidentally also the place where the most accidents occurred. Dante watched as the two racers skillfully guided their crafts, adjusting their thrust with expert precision to round the corners but also try to gain position in the race. The constant changes in the power levels were dangerous, not just because it required heightened focus, but also because depending on how your swoop was built, it could damage the craft. The two racers continued to weave through the course, and Dante couldn’t help but be captivated by it, his golden eyes dancing side to side as he watched the images jump across the screen. As he narrowed his focus, he noticed that the Albukan’s swoop appeared to be slowing, instead of constantly trading position with Naldo he now appeared to be lagging even though the engines were flaring with color as the driver forced as much power to them as he could. Before Dante had time to guess on what was wrong, there was a large bang as the engine on the swoop exploded and the swoop bike veered off of the side of the track at full speed with the driver and the wreckage in tow in a ball of thick smoke.
A murmur could be heard across the workers present, although Erid had started stamping his hooves on the ground in approval and making celebratory toasts, which weren’t too far sighted as within two minutes Naldo zoomed across the finish line as the champion, a full five minutes ahead of the next racer. The lean black-haired champion had already pulled his bike off to the side, vigorously celebrating the surprise victory while his technical co workers back at the workshop enjoyed a much more muted celebration. A few of the administrators came down from the upper offices and conversed with Erid, who had passed around word that there would be no more work for the rest of the day. Drinks, food, and laughter would begin to grow as the crowd dispersed as individuals mingled with others, sharing in food, story or talking about the win and what it meant for the company.
Less than an hour after Naldo’s win, Dante found himself in the middle of both his third Rahmelian wine, and idle participation in a conversation between Settimo and two other fabricators, who had spent the entire time going over every detail of every swoop and it’s construction in raucous detail. However, Dante’s awkward membership and the conversation were brought to an end with a sharp whistle and all in the room turned to look back at the viewscreen, where Erid now stood with two other individuals, Dante recognized one barely as what he thought was one of the financial administrators for the company. Erid shouted and beckoned for them all to come around, and Dante slowly waded forward with everyone else as they all formed a crowd in front of Erid and the administrator, a much leaner and taller male compared to Erid, though he wore a large mane of hair loose that flowed freely between the two small horns on his head. They stood at the front of the room silently, waiting as the clatter of conversation came to a halt as only then did the tall man speak, tapping his hand on his horn and bearing a small smile “Once again, and surely not for the last time, we all here at Farulan know it took alot of sacrifice, hard work, this was a win for all of us tonight as we bring home the first championship in many, many cycles. Tonight is a night to celebrate, and I hope you all do well, I know Marvi’s two streets down will welcome any of you with cheap drinks and great times. We can worry about work in the morning, selsha velyio!”
Dante left as soon as the administer had finished his speech, draining the last remaining contents of his cup and then discarding it in the nearby wastebin, quickly sliding through the small crowd and began heading towards the back end of the workshop, where a large bay was; normally, a number of testing rigs would be here, and even the race swoop itself, but the bays were empty as all the equipment had gone to the race. Instead he headed for the large table that bordered the bay, this place serving as his workspace and primary place he could be found most days. The top of it was cluttered with various engine parts or components that were ultimately not used or tested and failed, as well as a collection of hydrospanners, socket sprayers, fusion bolter and other tools of which he began to pick up, as well as a slightly stained blue rag that had previously been covering a datapad and began wiping down the tools carefully and then placing them into second drawer of his desk, which contained a small rack which held them nicely. The task took him only a couple of minutes after which he tidied up the various items on his desk, organizing them into piles or tossing them into the bin on the floor near his desk. Once he was finished, he looked around for a moment and then picked up the datapad, blowing some of the debris that had gotten onto it off and tapped the button on the top to activate it. The screen began displaying his last project, reconfiguring the engine compressor, and he began idly scrolling until he felt a push and braced himself against the desk, looking up and seeing Settimo with a drink and a large smile “Hey, don’t you ever know when to stop working? Couple of us are going to go hit up Marvi, maybe some other places, wanna come along?”
Dante briefly considered it, but then remembered that the last time he had taken Settimo up on a similar offer a few weeks ago, it was mostly spent watching him fill his body with questionable amounts of flavorless drinks, and then empty his stomachs back onto the pavement as Dante had to half carry him through three city blocks back to his flat. Dante shook his head “Nah, you go on ahead, I’m feeling worn out still, probably just head home.”
Settimo shook his head in mocking disappointment “What, sleep? You can do that when you’re near dead, why not head out, enjoy some drinks, meet some fun people? Maybe even a woman?”
Dante feigned a smile “I think I’m just too tired for that, but I’ll look forward to your tales.”
Settimo laughed, chattering about he’ll try to remember their names, and began walking away rejoining a crowd and eventually leaving; Dante sighed as he left, and quickly tapped a few commands on the datapad to clear the project into an archive and then walked over to a peg on the wall that held his favored grey jacket and tucked it into one of the many interior pockets before throwing the jacket across his shoulders and sliding his arms into the armholes. He took a back exit that was located at the rear of the bay, it would put him on an opposite street from the building’s main entrance and thus away from the huddle of co workers that may produce an offer like Settimo’s. As he stepped out into the street, the sun had now fully set and the night life of Hikan had come out, the multi-colored street lights that were arch-typical for the province now fully illuminating the clustered network of roads and paths, the lights also casting a faint glimmer onto the bottom of the various air speeders and other craft that flew through the tightly managed skylanes, everywhere bustling as people turned out for their favorite evening activities. He turned south and began walking quickly along the quiet sidewalk, most of the other factories or plants had long ago dismissed their employees so he knew it wouldn’t take him long to reach the train, just that he had a short time frame to do it in. As he walked down the winding path, he spent most of his time otherwise thinking about what the remainder of the week would like, the variety of mundane tasks that ordinary residents have to accomplish throughout their week such as getting food, cleaning and other similar chores. Soon the low rumble of passing speeder traffic gave way to the hissing and hum of a grav-train station, a large platform that was raised off of the ground with two large metallic support columns and a series of grand staircases and repuslorlifts that led people up to and away from the station. He could see the platform and the rail-rings brightly illuminated against the menagerie of streetlight hues and placed his hands in the pockets of his jacket drawing it in closer as he felt the wind growing and the chill that came with it. Within a few minutes, he had reached the repulsorlift que and silently blessed the Gods for keeping it free of any line or wait and quickly slipped into the lift and within moments it was lifting him up to the large platform that sat more fifty meters removed from the ground, a flat surface filled with bright, white lights that completely illuminated the platform and cast light unto the surface below, and had a series of rings through the middle that connected the platform to the rest of the rail line. The lift brought him to the top of the platform within a few moments and he proceeded to step onto the platform, briefly blinking quickly as the high winds rushed through the platform and he rammed his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket and slowly walked down the length of the platform heading for the box like structure on the right side that had “ticket office” flickering in digi-print that spiraled around the edge of the roof. Once more, there was no line and Dante walked up to the ticket office where five automated terminals protruded out of the side, and he quickly tapped the screen to select the “short line” ticket, and then pulled three red tab-shaped coins out of his jacket and inserted them into the dish on the terminal, which soon sucked them in and dispensed out a small ticket which Dante retrieved and then wandered over to the waiting que, where there was a small crowd of a few individuals. All were dressed with either work clothes or common outfits that were stained with the remnants of a hard day, and Dante paid them little attention after his initial passover and returned his gaze onto the industrial district that lay before them.
A large “whoosh”, like charging wind grew slowly in the background, quickly rising from a whisper barely audible of the dim of speeder traffic to the sound of a rushing herd and Dante slightly shifted his gaze right to see the blur that was the pastel blue and white train rushing through the grav-rings and then the loud screeching as the train began to slow, before coming to a full stop in the designated zone, it’s doors automatically opening with a loud hiss, no one disembarking but Dante flowed with the small crowd as they entered the large tube-shaped hull; the sides of the hull were lined with simple metal benches that had a small amount of padding and down the middle of the hull was a pole that hung from the roof that could be used as a brace for those standing. When he entered the car he noticed it was only partially full and so no reason to travel through the other cars so he picked a spot standing near the disembark door and lazily held onto the pole, fixing his gaze on the tinted windows that barely let in any vision of the external world. Within a few moments, there was a short announcement announcing a soon departure and to stand clear, and just a short moment after that there was a small lerch and the train sped off, traveling west through the city. It would carry Dante over the nine kilometers, from the heart of the industrial district where he worked, snaking around the edge of the glamorous Uesing district and then turning south towards the southern edge of the neighboring residential district, referred to by the locals as ‘86’. This station was much more crowded than the one he had left, he could make out a number of sizeable crowds awaiting the train, and as he felt the train slowly de-accelerating he slowly moved to a position closer to the door, ensuring he could get off quickly and beat the crowds that would swarm the train as soon as it stopped. He pulled a small bar out of his coat pocket and quickly ate it in a few bites, noticing as he looked up a shorter man had entered from the northern car, a dark hood pulled up over his head which Dante thought was a little odd since it was well into the night. He turned to face the door and as the train came to a complete stop, he waited for a moment as the doors slid open and he paused for a second to see if the other man was going to exit first, but he remained motionless on the bench so Dante proceeded to exit through the door.
Once on the platform, he quickly moved through the ques and made it through to the center of the platform, weaving his way past groups of people when he heard a few shouts that seemed just behind him and he turned just in time to see the hooded man that he had seen by the door of the train was now charging through the crowd, indiscriminately shoving some to the brick floor of the station and forcing his way past the others, squarely headed right for Dante. He had a split second to react and instinctively lashed out in a kick with his left leg, his hoof catching the man square in the middle of his two horns, but he grunted and forced the kick back, catching Dante off-stance and making him spin and fall to the ground. He quickly rolled across his stomach to the right, just missing an attempt by the man to stomp his prior position and quickly stood up, some just six meters from the man. He was the shape of a brute, a good two heads shorter than Dante but with shoulders as wide and thick as a steel beam and his deep purple skin shimmered under the light cast off from the ceiling of the platform. Before Dante could think of what to say, the man grunted and then shouted something indiscernible to Dante as he charged him once more, Dante slightly lowering himself as if to brace before quickly sidestepping, barely catching the blur of purple rush past him and throwing himself into a support pillar. He quickly recovered though and Dante barely caught the sight of an arm slashing down towards him and he reached with his own arm as if to block the hit when there was a loud clang of metal that rang out through the area as the two men briefly stood, panting and paused, as Dante realized the man had pulled a large dagger and attempted to cut him, only being stopped by the silver colored cuffs that Dante wore on each of his wrist. Dante flicked his eyes down at the man and scowled and threw him backwards, reaching up to his own left wrist and pulled out a thin narrow blade of his own, gripping the carved handle carefully as the brute charged him once more “What is this barbarian’s problem?”
Dante thought briefly as he once more sidestepped the charge, and seeing the man make a plunge with his dagger, he reacted swiftly and parried the thrust with a quick sweep of his own blade and he quickly shifted, throwing half of his torso and raised leg into the man shoving him backwards before he plunged the his own blade right between the man’s ribs. The assailant howled in pain and dropped his own dagger, staggering backwards away from Dante who stood with his own blade still firmly grasped, dripping with the man’s blood. Before either of them could react, there was a shout and three officers with shouldered carbines were slowly approaching the two “Put down your weapons and step away, now!”
Dante nodded and resheathed his blade back into the holster on his left forearm and stepped far away from the man, keeping his arms half raised in a measure to ensure he didn’t get stunned. By the time the officers reached them, the assailant was still howling but upon sight of the grey-uniform clad officers with carbines, he howled and lashed out in an attempt to strike them, but a volley of stun bolts from them quickly subdued him. One kept his carbine pointed at the motionless body while another went to secure his wrist with some manacles, while a third briefly lowered his weapon to approach Dante “Mind explaining to me what in the hell is going on here son? Menacing in public is a serious offense, and carrying vibroweapons is a Class -”
The officer was cut off by a pat on the shoulder from the original lead officer who had shouted at Dante and the mystery man, and he pointed at the cuffs on Dante’s wrists. He let out a small smile “Forgive my partner here, the old ways are rarely kept in these parts still, and even fewer of the northern clans come to visit. Impressive fensi, handmade I presume?”
Dante nodded “By my grandsire, yes.”
The officer nodded “As is the way.”
He jerked his thumb at the motionless body behind him “Mind explaining what galvanized this man into attacking a setheso like yourself?”
Dante shrugged “I’m just trying to get home from work. He was on the train with me, rode with his hood up. As I left and walked through the platform, he charged me and tried attacking me. I did not draw mine until he drew his and tried to strike me.”
The officer nodded and looked back at his partner who was examining the unconscious body “Any sign of inhibitors or spice”
The man shook his head and the officer frowned “Awfully bold of him to charge you in an open station. He didn’t say anything to you, at any point?”
Dante shook his head “He shouted something at me at the beginning, but it was not in any language I’ve ever heard, much less understood. Other than that, just wild fury.”
The officer nodded “I see. Well, continue on your way then, this place will be swarming with us soon, I’d doubt you’d want to be here.”
Dante nodded and quickly walked away, descending the platform through the now abandoned lift. While the trip to his flat was still another kilometer down the main road from this station, the entire walk would seemingly pass instantly as he spent the entire time with his brain spinning in circles, trying to figure out what precisely just had occurred. Who was this man? Why did he just attack with no provocation, no cause? And what was it that he shouted?
Dante kept replaying the images of the short, angry man in his head even as he shimmied his way through the heavy door that led into his flat, his footsteps falling heavy on the darkened floor as he made his way through the common room and slipped through the back door that led to his bedroom. His eyes briefly flicked over the large bed but he collected himself and quickly slid off the metal cuffs from his wrists, carefully placing them and the blades attached quietly on the top of the wardrobe in front of him. He then walked over to the large window that dominated the south wall of the room, and the earth-red sculpture that rested on the sill. He briefly placed his hand on it, saying a silent prayer and then turned to let himself fall into the bed behind him, with the first tendrils of sleep already beginning to grab him before his eyes closed.
The next thing Dante remembered was a constant, low tune electronic chirp waking him from his rest, blinking his eyes a few times as the bright sunlight began filtering in through the metal slants on the window. His head felt heavy, probably from the events of the prior evening and he shook his head a few times as he rose, as if trying to shake the feelings if it was possible. He stumbled into the common room, where the chirp grew louder and he noticed that the data terminal in the northeastern corner was flashing. He approached it and noticed he had received a number of messages, and downloaded them from the network, walking into the kitchen and quickly reaching inside the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of deep blue liquid and took a few swigs as he walked back to the terminal, the first message having successfully downloaded. He quickly browsed through the list, the first was a message from Erid and the rest of management, mostly the usual drivel thanking the drivers for winning the championship, and stating they would look forward to when the racing season returned in next year. The others were all associated with the same subject, but he saw there was a larger file with no title and upon selecting it to view, chuckled as he saw the face of his uncle, Alessandro, on the screen speaking once Dante hit play “Dante, it’s the most successful member of your clan, calling you from your home, if you even remember it. I heard from your mother that you’ve become determined to be like me and become the family’s next rogue, and that’s what you’re doing down in Hikan. If my memory serves me correctly, the racing season just ended which means you’re suddenly staring at a few months-long road of boredom. Why don’t you return home to Viaria and have a chat with me? I’ll be at our home for at least the next few days.”
The message terminated and Dante powered down the terminal as he walked slowly back to his bed and sat on the edge of it for a few moments, taking pauses to take gulps from his drink, as he thought the message over. He hadn’t seen his uncle in many, many years but had always enjoyed how the gruff and brief man had always understood him so much more than any of his siblings, or his parents, and he did have a point with the lack of work. The last four years that he had been in Hikan, he typically filled the months in between seasons with a large collection of activities that were rarely productive and mostly futile in his efforts to stave off the boredom, or make extra credits. On an impulse, and one quick look at the bag on the floor of his apartment, he was quickly packing the minimal amounts of belongings in the living space into the bag, before steaming out of the door of his flat, heading for nary the same trainline he took to get home, except this time he would be heading for his true home, something he had been avoiding for years.