CnC Chpt 5

==Cat and Crescent - Chapter 5 -==
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===Survivor spotting===
New Hedon
Herotitus, Rimward Periphery
Monday, September 20th, 3024 
"A moment of your time, sir?" Sergeant Reich asked.
 
Remihel looked up from the printouts of company financials. He'd hoped to add a few more assets to the company before leaving Herotitus. Thus far, though, his only success was the acquisition of a Ferret Scout VTOL and a Pegasus hovertank. "Yes, Sergeant? How can I help you?"
Reich held out a small hand-held noteputer. "One of my contacts found Cornet Skinner."
 
"Alive?" Remihel didn't wish to place bets on Skinner's survival, particularly as more information came in about the missing mechwarrior's choices of company. When the Blue Crescent Rangers failed to make payroll, the various people responded differently. Some of the wiser hands saved up enough money to survive the drought. Others found temporary jobs. Then there were a few who sought out loan-sharks for enough cash to get them by. And finally, there was Luke Skinner, who wandered into a nightclub run by a Capellan tong and ran up a massive bill.
 
"He's alive," Reich declared, gesturing toward the noteputer. "He went into hiding last week. The tong caught him earlier this afternoon."
 
Remihel skimmed the message. I still think it might be best to leave Skinner to reap the consequences of his choices. But he's allegedly a good pilot. He owns one of the three remaining shares in the company. And the other Rangers seem to care about him... He sighed. "Well, Sergeant," Remihel said, concealing his sigh, "Let's take care of this." He turned to Sarah, sitting across the desk from him. "Where's Wes?"
 
"Not sure," she replied. "He went to the simulators after lunch. Might still be there."
 
"I'll check there first," Remihel said.
 
All six of the simulator pods were empty, but on the way back to his desk, Remihel heard voices in the vicinity of the gym. He found Wes Reno in the locker room.
 
"Hey Wes, I..." Remihel started talking before his brain recognized that Wes was dripping wet, with a towel around his waist. He hesitated. "...am I interrupting you?"
 
"I just finished four hours in the sim, and needed a shower," Wes said. "What do you need, baron?"
 
 Remihel rallied. "Sergeant Reich found Luke Skinner, and I want a wingman for tonight," he said. "Dress in civvie clothes... something nice, but not formal. I need you and Sergeant Reich to loom threateningly over some people."
 
"I can do that. Loom threateningly is one of my specialties."
 
"Good," Remihel replied, spinning on his heel and heading off. "I'll let you finish up - we leave in a half hour."
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===The Agreement===
Remihel followed Volker through the crowded bar. I regret my choices, he told himself.
 
When they'd arrived on Herotitus, Remihel rented a monster of a towncar. It was the sort of vehicle that rich Inner Sphere tourists picked up, and then hired local drivers to chauffeur them around New Hedon while they partied in the back seat with drugs, booze, and hookers. Remihel did not use it for that purpose - though it fit his general cover identity. He drove it himself, while Wes took the front seat and Sergeant Reich settled down in the middle.
 
"So where are we going?" Wes asked, as Remihel took the main road toward downtown.
 
Remihel frowned. "A place called Cheong's, on New Hedon's east side. On Charles Tagg Road."
 
"Sounds Capellan." Wes cracked his knuckles. "Isn't that the bad part of town?"
 
"Yes to both questions," Remihel said. He paused for a few moments, considering how much to share. "It's run by one of the Capellan tongs. I believe there's an opium den on the third floor, a casino, lap-dancers... and we're not there for any of that."
 
"Sure we aren't," Wes said, looking suspicious. "Just dinner, right?"
 
"I'm told the food's terrible. We're going after Luke Skinner. Watch your wallet in here," Remihel suggested.
 
"Got it."
 
Cheong's looked like a warehouse. Once past the front door, the establishment made a valiant attempt at legitimacy. But an attempt was all they achieved. As they took a seat at the bar, Remihel kept his head on a swivel, eyes open for trouble. He noted Wes and Sergeant Reich both doing the same. "This place is everything you said it'd be," Wes muttered to Remihel.
 
"Everything except classy," Remihel sighed. When the waitress arrived, he ordered a round of Timbiqui Dark and insisted on an unopened can. He slid a hundred C-Bill note and a scrap of paper to the waitress. "Pass that to your boss, please," he asked.
 
The C-Bill disappeared into the waitress's waistband even before she picked up the note. "I'll let them know at once, sir," the waitress promised.
After a few moments of awkward silence, Wes turned to him. "You've been to Herotitus before, right?"
 
"A few times." Remihel nodded.
 
"This is my first time out of the Concordat," Wes said, keeping his voice low. "I've heard the rumors about Herotitus. It's... all a bit like this, right?"
 
"Like Cheong's? No - not at all," Remihel said. "Most of the places in downtown New Hedon are much... nicer. So far as you can twist that word. You can get the same things - whatever you want, in whatever quantities you can afford. The clientele are richer there. Inner Sphere nobles and business tycoons."
 
Sergeant Reich grinned. "Sounds like you've been there before."
 
"I came out to Herotitus a few years ago with some friends," he said. He took a judicious sip from his can of beer. Bleh, this never tastes as good as I remember. "I don't wish to repeat my experience."
 
"What's the craziest thing you've seen?" Wes asked.
 
"I don't really want to talk about that. There's too much twisted, nasty stuff that goes on here."
 
"No, just… crazy," Wes said. "Not the other stuff. Just crazy, won't find it anywhere but Herotitus. That you've seen."
 
"Oh, well." Remihel sighed. "That I've personally seen? There's a place in downtown New Hedon. The Stonewick Reader. When you go in, you either buy a book or bring one of your own. Then a girl in some sort of costume will read it to you, for as long as you choose to pay her. Strict rules, by the way - it's not a brothel." He shrugged, somewhat sheepish at the admission. "When I went, a nice young lady named Madeline read one of my grandfather's unpublished novels. She found me a very comfortable armchair, and made me some of the best tea I've ever had."
 
Sergeant Reich stared at him. "And… that's it? Nothing… else? Wait. What costume did she wear?"
 
"19th Century. I think she called it Victorian. It wasn't revealing... at all, really. I wonder if the place is still there, or if they've slouched into moray decay like the rest of Herotitus."
 
"How much did this cost you?" Wes asked. He restrained laughter.
 
"Uh… about a thousand C-Bills. It took her two days to read. I paid extra to discuss the book after we finished."
 
Sergeant Reich shook his head. "This must be some strange Taurian thing. If I'm paying that much for a girl to do anything…"
 
"Armchair and tea." Remihel insisted.
 
The waitress returned. "Honored sir," she said with a quick bow, "Madame Cheong agrees to your request. Please follow me."
 
"Thank you," Remihel said, rising. He signaled for Wes and Sergeant Reich to follow his lead. "Let's go."
 
The waitress ushered them to an elevator and used a key-card to direct it to the third floor. Cheap decorations themed for ancient China filled the hallways. Remihel lengthened his stride and got his war-face on. As ever, when it came time for a bit of judiciously-applied coercion, he recited a quick phrase to change his mindset. I am the Taurian bull, and this is a cheap China shop.
 
The waitress swiped her key-card at the last door on the left, and stepped back timidly. "Honored sirs," she said, sketching another respectful bow.
 
Inside the room, two heavily-tattooed tongsmen waited in guard positions. A middle-aged woman stood over the short mechwarrior. Luke's arms were chained over his head, his feet shackled to the floor, and his pants around his ankles. Blood streamed down from his nose and lips onto his shirt, and he squirmed in near-panic as the woman sized up a set of gardening shears.
 
"Madame Cheong," Remihel said. He bowed in a rough approximation of the Capellan style. "I wish you health and prosperity. My name is Remihel Greenbrier, commander of the Blue Crescent Rangers. Might I interest you in a mutually-beneficial business arrangement?"
 
For a few moments, everyone stood exactly still. Then, slowly, Madame Cheong waved her hand. "You interrupt my current business arrangement, Commander."
 
"Yes," Remihel mused, arching an eyebrow down at the gardening shears. "A bit of non-elective surgery, it appears."
 
"I tell him what happens if he not pay!" Madame Cheong frowned. "He get dancers, he drink booze, gamble blackjack, then not pay debts! Offer him many other paying alternatives…"
 
Skinner finally spoke up for himself. Blood caked his face, and he jerked against the chains. "They entrapped me! Switched my beer for cholobara, didn't tell me the price difference. They want a hit man! I can still get them the money, I just need…"
 
Remihel turned back toward Madame Cheong. "Let's summarize our objectives. You wish to recover missed payments. I wish to re-acquire this errant mechwarrior. And while you currently have a mechwarrior, I have some C-Bills."
 
"You pay this man's debt?" Madame Cheong said. She spat on the floor. "You are a fool. Skinner not reliable to pay back."
 
"I have persuasive methods of my own," Remihel said, injecting a hard edge into his voice. "And a bit of sentiment toward fools."
 
One of the tongsmen reached for his waistband. Remihel noticed the movement in the corner of his eye - but so too did Wes Reno. Before the Capellan could get his hand back out, Wes punched him in the face, then followed up with a blow to the stomach. The tong thug flopped down to the ground, not unconscious but down for the count.
 
Wes turned to the other Capellan. "Do we have a problem?"
 
The second tongsman remained stock-still, then showed him open hands. "No."
 
"Good," Wes growled. "Just stand there and look pretty."
 
Remihel completely ignored this outbreak of violence and smiled at Madame Cheong. It suited the timing perfectly, he decided. I need to give Wes a raise. "Can we make a deal?"
 
Madame Cheong scowled. "I let you have him for five thousand." She raised the gardening shears. "After I get to finish."
 
"Only five thousand?" Remihel tilted his head. He looked at Luke Skinner and arched an eyebrow. "That's cheaper than I expected."
 
"Wait!" Skinner protested. "Wait, we can still talk about this! Commander - you're the new commander, right? I'm a good pilot! I have skills. Just don't let her use that on me!"
 
"How much more for me to get him still in mint condition?" Remihel asked, turning back to Madame Cheong.
 
She thought about it for a few moments. "Twenty-five thousand C-Bills."
 
"Hmm," Remihel muttered. "I heard he only owes you eighteen. That's a bit of a markup, don't you think? How about twenty? Eighteen for you, and a thousand each for your two associates. Since it appears they've taken some time out of their busy days."
 
Madame Cheong shook her head. "Twenty-four thousand."
 
"Twenty. I don't like to barter, Madame Cheong. I gave you a starting offer I believe is fair."
 
The Capellan woman set down the gardening shears and walked to a cabinet. "Twenty thousand, plus three strikes with shock whip. He cross me again? I not be so gentle."
 
"He's a small guy," Remihel pointed out. "Three strikes will leave him unconscious. I'll have to carry him out."
 
"You have big goons for that. This my final offer."
 
"Hm." Remihel believed her. "I accept." He pulled out a stack of cash from his pocket. He'd only drawn twenty thousand anyway.
 
"Wait! Wai-" the prisoner squawked. His protests stopped when the madame flicked the end of her shock whip around his leg. Remihel, with a stony face, listened to his scream and pretended stoic indifference. 
 
He carried exactly enough cash, and counted it off into Madame Cheong's hand once she finished. "Wes, Sergeant Reich - would you be so kind as to help Mr. Skinner to the car?"
 
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===Thoughts from Poolside===
New Hedon, the Parkroyal West
Herotitus, Rimward Periphery
Monday, September 20th, 3024
Josie floated in the far corner of the Parkroyal's infinity pool, admiring the view. When she hunted for a new apartment after moving out of Colton's place, the pool caught her eye. The s-shaped pool soared thirty-one floors above the ground. Ferroglass bridges carried it across the void between the mega-hotel's three spiral towers. From its waters, she looked out over the skyline of New Hedon.
 
To the west, Herotitus's sun glowed orange-red as it fell toward the horizon, and the towers of the capital city's casino district glowed. Down at street level, the neon lights of the city snapped on to advertise its various services. Vices, Josie mentally corrected herself.
 
"You make me nervous, sitting so close to that edge…"
 
Without even looking, Josie recognized the grating yet aristocratic voice of Tatina Cruz. The celebrity reporter lived in the Parkroyal West on Floor 27, two floors below Josie's own apartment. That granted her access to the residents-only rooftop pool. 
 
More's the pity, Josie thought. She turned and planted her toes on the glass bottom of the pool. The water reached her chin. "It's a good view."
 
Tatina tread water, trying and failing to touch the bottom. She gave up and took hold of the same edge she'd expressed reservations about only seconds before. Josie knew there were appropriate safety precautions hidden in the building's design, and she didn't fear going over the edge. "I suppose it is a good view," Tatina said. "Are you actually standing on the bottom?"
 
"Yeah. I'm tall enough for that," Josie pointed out. "What do you want?"
 
"A few minutes to chat. As friends," Tatina replied.
 
As friends? That's a lie, Josie thought to herself. "I suppose," she answered, hoping to get back to the relative silence soon. "What's on your mind?"
 
"Just a bit of this and that," Tatina replied. "Oh, that's a nice swim top, by the way."
 
"Thanks." Josie looked down, trying to remember which option she'd actually selected today. Metallic lime green, snugly fitted, with a little silver ring right in the middle. Could be worse.
 
"Is that a Parvis design?"
 
"Pretty sure you already know it is," Josie said. "You know the Valkyries have a merchandising agreement with them. I can't wear anything in public except for a Parvis."
 
Tatina did not respond with her normal braying laugh, nor her usual saccharine smile, but rather a weary sigh. "You know, Josie," she said, "I know people despise me for my career. I always shrug off their disgust… but today I don't have that in me. Can we have a normal conversation?"
 
Josie recognized it for manipulation, but nodded anyway. "Fine, I guess."
 
Tatina looked away. "I do like your top. Honestly."
 
"Thanks," Josie repeated.
 
"You said you're a surfer, right?" Tatina asked.
 
"Uh... yeah, I guess," Josie said. She didn't remember sharing that with Tatina, but couldn't verify that for certain. "We had a lot of good beaches back home. My friends and I usually surfed on weekends, or after school."
 
"I've never surfed," Tatina said. "Doesn't feel like something people do here."
 
"Herotitus doesn't have a moon to make strong tides," Josie said. "So the waves here aren't that good."
 
Tatina tilted her head off to one side. "Doesn't the Casa del Largo Hotel have an artificial beach for surfing?"
 
"Been there. It's way too crowded," Josie lied. Well, it IS crowded... but Colton runs the pool at Casa del Largo. I don't want to see him again, especially not if Denise is there too.
 
"Well, maybe I'll give it a try sometime." Tatina considered her words, and apparently knew exactly why Josie avoided the Casa del Largo Hotel. Mercifully, she didn't bring up that sore subject. "How'd things go with that baron the other night?"
 
"Oh, we talked," Josie admitted, trying to volunteer as little as possible. She pulled her feet up off the bottom of the pool, laid back slightly on her back, and kept herself afloat with the eggbeater motions of her hands.
 
"I've heard a few interesting stories," Tatina said. "Some juicy gossip."
 
"About Baron Greenbrier?"
 
"Yeah," Tatina said. "I looked him up, since he's friends with Volker. Did you know he bought up a mercenary company?"
 
"He mentioned it," Josie said. She resolved immediately not to offer up too much information. "Any stories I'd find interesting?"
 
"A lot of rumors," Tatina said. "He masterminded the scheme that took down the Treasury Casino a few years ago. Pocketed nine million C-Bills, then disappeared into thin air. A lot of casino bosses here in New Hedon have a really nervous twitch right now due to your new boyfriend."
 
"Oh," Josie said. She unpacked the far-reaching implications of that simple statement. She didn't like the results.
 
"Whatever he's up to with his new mercenaries," Tatina continued, "it'll be something profitable. Profitable and dangerous. Rumor is, the Baron's not staying on Herotitus. He's got a dropship rented for departure Friday. But everyone's real jumpy, Josie. Even the planetary garrison's on higher alert. I just want to warn you before you bring him around for your evening entertainment..."
 
Josie's mind raced. On any other world, the casino bosses belonged to an organized crime syndicate. But on Herotitus, their activities were mostly legal, with precious few exceptions. Assassination could be a very real possibility, Josie decided. "Should I warn Volker, too? Since they're friends...?"
 
Tatina laughed, a harsh bray that hurt Josie's ears. "Warn Volker? Of what? Don't be so clueless, girl!" She leaned against the edge of the pool, looking smug. "He's part of that whole pack. Nobody's going to take a swing at him without starting a mafia war."
 
That confirmed what Josie always guessed about her boss, but stubbornly refused to believe. "I guess you're right."
 
"That warning's just for you, Josie," Tatina continued. "If you're a good little girl and keep raking in the cash for Volker, you enjoy his protection. But if you start looking ambitious…?" Tatina smiled, and it was not friendly. "Of course, if you know anything about Baron Greenbrier's plans, I can pass that along to a few people who'd show some gratitude..."
 
Josie felt like she was developing a very nervous twitch of her own. "Just that he's headed off-world soon," she lied. "Didn't even tell me when."
 
"Well, I suppose that's something," Tatina said. "You know, I hope this doesn't come across wrong, Josie. I like you. We should get together sometime and have a girls night. I know a few good clubs and some other friends to go with."
 
"Yeah," Josie gulped. "Yeah. Sure. Maybe. Sometime."
 
"Great," Tatina continued. "Now if you'll excuse me, I still have some work to finish tonight…"
 
Her departure failed to solve Josie's mood, and she found herself staring out at the skyline of New Hedon. She suppressed a nervous case of the shakes and abandoned the swimming pool. An oversized towel waited for her on a nearby lounge chair, and she headed for the elevators. 
 
Another resident boarded with her. Male. Shorter, but muscular. He didn't look straight at her, but he did look. She warily shuffled to the far corner of the elevator. Not that it'll do me any good, she thought. I might be a mechwarrior, but hand-to-hand doesn't suit my physique…
 
Even her apartment felt unsafe. The first thing she did was hurry to her nightstand to find the Foxfire pistol she kept there, but it failed to calm her. I need a mech around me, she thought.
 
She closed all the windows in her apartment, and swept the entire thing, the Foxfire gripped in a shaky hand. Nothing… but of course I won't have thugs hiding underneath my bed, she realized. They'll plant hidden cameras instead…
 
Any other night, she'd calm herself down with one of the various bottles stored in her apartment's wine rack. There was a bottle of Tyrone Rain that she'd started and still intended to finish. "Not tonight," she muttered to herself, resisting its call. She set off on another patrol through her apartment. Did she see anything out of place?
 
Out on the kitchen counter, where she'd left it several days prior, she spotted Baron Greenbrier's card.
 
After a few moments of thought, she headed for her desk, wrapping the towel more tightly around her waist as she took her seat. Let's get serious, she told herself, activating her personal computer. I'm done with these constant manipulations. I have an idea…
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Chapter 5