Paladin (Ze)

“Convoy en route. Rendezvous in 2 minutes.”

I sat in my seat as I tried to hold my lunch down in my stomach.

“I hate car rides,” I thought, “How did anyone not back then?”

It was a legitimate question that I had. Me. A spoiled brat vamp from Wesson District of the Andromeda Galaxy. A place where the concept of a car was ancient history long forgotten in the dust of time. Why the people of this Sector still uses them is beyond me.

“Sheshta,” a voice mumbled from my left, “you look like Hell, Ze.”

I look toward the direction of the voice that said my name.

Another mercenary sat beside me checking his equipment. He was fully geared up in new polished, retrofitted Paladin v.26 armor. An armor so high tech, it literally was at least a couple of years ahead of its time. His visor was down over his face. I couldn’t tell who it was. Not even by voice because the voice was synthesized.

The armor the person wore was a pitch black color with red lining running up and down the armor. It’s visor was completely designed for intimidation tactics.

It covered the entire face with a glistening black mask. A single bright beaming, crimson line was dashed across part of the mask where the eyes should be. Large deadly spikes guttered out of the visor on the head. Intriguingly, they were lined up almost in the shape of a crown.

The merc was in the process of checking his weapon. It was completely modified Painkiller 667. The usual weapon used for those still fighting for a cause.

A Painkiller 667 was an enhanced version of the M16 weapon used by the humans centuries ago in the wars that destroyed the world known as Earth. Firing plasma rounds the size of 12 inch nails, one shot from this weapon can do serious damage. Attached on the left of the weapon was a red dot laser sight. On the sight line, a small 2x scope had been added.

The gun also had a strange small device hanging from safety of the gun. It’s was incredible small, almost smaller than the palm of my hand. On it we’re multiple squares, all in multiple colors of 3x3. I had no idea what it was. It was probably some old world item.

I watched as the merc finished checking his weapon. He checked his safety and proceeded to lay the weapon across his lap; hands still holding it in primed position.

“You ok?” the merc asked. He was now looking at me.

“Uh, yeah,” I stammered raising an eyebrow, “how do you know my name?”

He just stared at me. I stared back. A sense of unease ran down my spin. I never got along with other mercs. Especially other high-end mercs like me. I learn a long time ago in my early days, there not just called high-end for no reason.

They get paid to do a job and they do it well. They built a reputation and that reputation puts food on the table. Meaning, if they have to they’ll do anything to keep that reputation from being destroyed. That includes being in another mercenaries business.

“You already know how this game goes,” he said looking forward in to the empty seats beside us.

“Yeah,” I replied.

I did. Why I even bothered to ask was dumb on my part. Every merc knows to try to come as prepared as possible. Unless, you want to be killed.

I checked if I had all my gear. I pack light; especially, on mission like these. Body guarding at a facility called The Farm. I had a limited number of things, so I quickly go through my list.

Stim-Pak. Check.

Rations. Check. I was kinda upset that the facility I was working at didn’t supply food, but it is what it is.

My Sun-Screen. In case I get caught up in the the sun; which, is highly unlikely based off where I’m going.

Check.

I reach around my back and retrieve my bow. It’s was a 8th generation compound bow. A bow of advanced technology that shot electric based magical energy. The arrows themselves were regular carbon based metal that were charged when applied to the draw string.

I check my wrist to see if my systems are working for my battle armor.

“Evelyn,” I though inside my head.

“Good afternoon, Ze,” a small feminine voice could be heard vibrating in my head.

“We all good?” I asked with my thoughts.

“Yep,” Evelyn responded, “ all vitals are good. However, I would cut back on the beer though. You got a lil gut gro-“

I dismissed her from my mind. I already checked my weapons. I laid my back against the seat. I continued to sit in the convoy until we reached our destination.

“Dear god,” I thought. I think I was gonna puke.

(Beginning of the “Lost and Hunted” Arc.)