Bloodhounds

Leonard slept like a baby in his large and soft bed. Luxuries like this simply did not exist in the Corps, unless you were a high ranking officer. 

He woke up fairly late, feeling much more rested than he had in a long time. His father had already left for work, leaving a note on the counter to call him if he needed anything. 

He already had a plan in mind for what he needed to accomplish today. Two different ways for him to hopefully confirm the validity of the information forced into his head. 

Upon reading through the full notebook he found two possible ways that he could confirm right now on Citadel. One of which was a certain individual that was supposedly enrolled in the Citadel National University. 

William Solace. 

After the fall of Bastion he found refuge in the Wolfheart Republic, one of the many member nations of the Greater Northern Alliance. He quickly gained a name for himself, building up a security company called The Northern Caravan. 

After the galaxy devolved into a state of open war, merchant ships were forced to move in large convoys to keep their cargo safe. The Northern Caravan worked as security escorts, having a large fleet of smaller warships like Frigates and Destroyers that, while small, had enough firepower to fight off most pirates. 

William was not as much a soldier, as he was a fantastic business man. Building The Northern Caravan up from having just a single lonely Frigate, to dominating the security industry with a huge combined fleet of vessels that let them take on many different protection jobs at once. 

While his ships were on the smaller side they were numerous, the strength in numbers making up for the lack of bigger guns aboard bigger ships. 

The future version of Leonard had worked with William on occasion, which is why he was brought up in such detail in his notebook. The two became close because of their shared ancestry, Leonards mercenary group becoming valuable allies to The Northern Caravan, and vice versa. 

Present day Leonard had an inkling that the two companies were preparing to merge, however those details went beyond the cut off point in his mind. 

It was said the young man attended the Citadel National University, however his notebook was very vague when it came to specific dates. He could only hope William hadn't already graduated and left. 

However before he could get there he had another stop to make. 

His air taxi pulled in front of a decrepit old warehouse in the industrial district. The place was deserted, not a single other car driving across the ground, none even one flying through the skies. 

Leonard paid his fee and the taxi flew off, leaving him surprisingly alone in a city of billions. 

The warehouse district was owned by a major player in the underworld, a gang known as the Bloodhounds. While on the surface it was just a medium sized gang in the underworld of Citadel, if his notebook was to be believed to was a front for the Condor Kingdom. 

According to what he wrote down in his book, the Condor Kingdom used the Bloodhounds as a tool to destabilise Bastion. The gang was much larger under the surface, instead of consolidating it used various other outfits under different names in order to keep under the radar. 

It controlled vast amounts of Citadel's underworld, shipping over weapons and soldiers en masse from Condor while somehow keeping it a secret from Bulwark at the ISD. Such a bold clandestine operation should have surely popped up on the two intelligence agencies' radar, but from his visions of the future they seemed to be blind to the threat. 

Once he found out about this, Leonard couldn't let it stand. 

His plan was simple, to act out the persona of an injured pilot dissatisfied with the government in hopes that he could learn more about their organisation's inner workings. However he had to play it smart, if they caught onto his lies he was in some very real danger. 

Besides, he could kill two birds with one stone. If he was to keep investigating such organisations using his real name and face was a pretty dumb idea. Face changing technology, more specifically skin tight masks called faceplates, that gave one a different appearance were highly illegal, and so a criminal organisation such as this should be able to obtain one. The same with his second idea to secure another identity. 

Faceplates weren't without drawbacks however, only able to change facial appearance and nothing else. And someone with a sharp trained eye could see through it, little discrepancies and the like, let alone AI identification software utilised by the government and other powerful entities. 

It would be helpful in all manner of things however, so he might as well get both while he was here if he could. Though his current funds weren't extreme, his over two years of salary from the Mech Corps was mostly untouched. 

While he had about $200,000 Bastion Credits, which most people simply referred to as just credits unless they were dealing with foreign markets, he didn't want to spend all of it. If it did turn out that the notebook and the presence in his head were trustworthy, there were a few stocks he wanted to invest in for the future.

The excuse of business should hopefully get him through the door nonetheless. Anything else would come later. 

He walked around the side of the building through a rusted half shut gate, its hinges screeching loudly as he pushed it open. The path looked overgrown, however nothing could disguise its heavy use, a hard dirt path of flattened earth from a large amount of foot traffic over the years. 

A small indent in the wall led to an obscured metal door, its face heavily reinforced with rivets lining each side. Leonard knocked twice, a small metal hatch sliding open and a pair of eyes examining him from within. 

"The fuck do you want?" The man said gruffly, only his eyes visible to Leonard. 

"I'm here on business," he answered, briefly flashing a wad of cash in his pocket. "I heard this was a place to get things." 

"Uh huh?" The man was obviously unconvinced, Leonard just being a random stranger walking up to one of their offices. Even if said office was in a warehouse. "Gonna need to see those creds a bit more if you want in." 

Leonard sighed, he should have figured a simple transaction wouldn't be easy in such a lawless place. He pulled out a stack of bills, 1000 credits worth and slipped it through the eye socket. The man hummed in response before locking the hatch shut. 

Leonard waited a couple minutes. 

Then a couple more, tapping his foot impatiently until he realised he'd been snubbed. He banged on the door again and the hatch quickly slid open, the same pair of eyes staring back out. 

"The fuck are you still here for?" 

"What do you mean?" Leonard was slightly exasperated, clearly not a fan of having his money stolen. "I paid, I want in." 

"I don't see any creds." The man flatly lied, clearly not interested in Leonards displeasure. "Might have to give me some more to jog my memory." 

"More?" Leonard guessed he should have expected to be extorted, however it wasn't as if he could turn away. And so he pulled out another 1000 credits and passed them through the socket, only for the same to repeat itself again. 

This time Leonard was fed up, the possible dangers that aggravating a criminal organisation could bring him quickly sank to the back of his head. Even if he didn't want to invite conflict, he wasn't about to just let himself be walked over. 

He knocked against the metal door again, this time with much greater force. Even though he was still human, his professional training had still brought his physical prowess up to a level very few civilians could obtain. 

The hatch opened again, the same disinterested eyes looking out at Leonard. 

"Still here? Wanna give away your creds that bad?" The man laughed, mocking Leonard to his face. Instead of meekly parting with his money and passing in through the small hatch, he instead drew a small side arm from his waist and pressed it through at the man inside. 

"Ah what the fuck!" He leapt back, hand reaching up to slam the hatch back shut. However Leonard had purposely placed the barrel of his pistol inside, blocking it from closing. 

"Open the door." He said coldly, his patience long gone. "I have paid my toll." 

Leonard may have not wanted to have conflict, but it didn't mean he wouldn't prepare for it. His father always hid a small firearm in the office in their apartment. Leonard had often tried to steal it as a child which was why he knew where it was, and how he could get his hands on it. 

Sure if father may not be happy he borrowed it, more like pissed. But it was better to ask forgiveness than seek permission, at least, in his opinion. 

"Fuck!" The man behind the door quickly complied. It was his job anyways, his bosses would not take kindly if they found out he'd been fleecing potential customers. Various bolts and locks clicked open, before the large door swung inwards. "Listen man, it was just a joke right? Here's your creds back." 

The man was clearly a little jumpy, however Leonard didn't care, simply grabbing his ill gotten gains back from the man and asking where to go. 

"The boss is straight down the hall and to the left. Big door, can't miss it." 

Leonard dismissed him with a wave of his hand, tucking his gun back into his pocket and making his way to this office. The corridor was dark and damp, cleanliness clearly not being an urgent issue for the Bloodhounds. Its decrepit walls peeled away in places, years old wallpapers long since seeing better days. 

As Leonard rounded the corner he clearly saw the mentioned door. Standing prominently at the end of the hall, a large wooden double door stood. In sheer contrast to the lacklustre state of its surroundings the dual mahogany doors stood out like a sore thumb, clearly being worth much more than anything else in the warehouse. 

Leonard didn't bother knocking this time, instead grabbing ahold of the door handle and letting himself in. The office was surprisingly luxurious, two large sofas sat down the middle with a large desk at its head. 

A man dressed in a neat and clean suit greeted him from behind the desk. He looked remarkably cordial, a welcoming smile placed on his face as he stood up from his chair. 

"A good day Mr Vallum." He walked around the table and shook Leonard's hand, before gesturing to one of the couches and sitting on the other. "Call me John. What can we do for you today?" 

This set Leonard aback, he had hardly expected to be expected, let alone have his name easily known. 

"You knew I was coming?" He questioned, suspicion growing in his eyes. 

"Ha, nothing of the sort," the man simply laughed in response. "I saw your trouble at the front door with our security cameras and just ran a quick facial ID scan. My apologies for any trouble caused." 

Leonard let it go. It was a good of an explanation as he probably would have gotten, and much more likely than him being tracked on his journey here. Though he didn't doubt they probably had profiles of most if not all the peoples related to the Revolutionary Party if they did intend to topple them. 

"That's quite alright," Leonard decided to let the matter slip, he wasn't one to slap a smiling face, however fake it might seem. "I was hoping to obtain a few things. First of all, a fake identity. Preferably one from a foreign nation." 

John looked rather surprised at such a request. Not that they could not achieve it, but for a member of the famously loyal and militaristic house Vallum to request a new identity, and a foreign one no less, was not something that happened every day. 

"That's certainly doable." John responded, writing a few notes onto a tablet in his hands. "But satisfy my curiosity for a moment if you would. Why a new name? Surely your surname can already get you most things?" 

"You could say I want to place my money somewhere Bastion can't reach," Leonard had figured such a question might come up, even in passing. "My service in the Mech Corps has left me.. Disillusioned I guess you could say with the current government." 

John looked at Leonard with a degree of veiled suspicion, although mostly looked surprised at such a response. Leo thought for a second that he may have come on too hard, that he should have pulled back on his framed dislike for Bastion. However it seemed he did not have to worry. 

"Hahaha!" John bellowed in laughter, clutching his stomach. He did try to contain himself, however it only led to further, more violent outbursts. It took a minute for him to calm down, wiping away a tear that had built up in his eye. 

"Oh that's just rich Mr Vallum! Or I guess I shouldn't call you that anymore, right Mr Leonard? If your elders heard what you just said you'd be banished from the house in an instant." 

That was true, the elders were vehemently pro Bastion, many of them living from the days of the Revolution, the eldest even joining in the fight. Such words, even if small, would lead to immediate excommunication with the family. 

"Then I'd prefer it if it was kept between us." 

"Of course, of course," John waved off his concerns, defaulting back to his professional behaviour. "That is certainly something we can arrange, however it may take a little time. Any nation in particular?" 

"I have no particular preference." While the details didn't matter, Leonard still wanted to use the identity, although not because of any misgivings about his home. Instead It would be for the best to conduct some things away from suspicious eyes, lest someone question from where he was gaining his knowledge. 

"There is one more thing." 

"Oh?" John looked up from the tablet, "go on." 

"I'm also in the market for a faceplate, on the higher end if possible." 

"Hmm.." John stroked his chin. Faceplates were highly illegal and extremely rare. Good ones at least. "I'll have to get back to you on that one. Come back tomorrow when we finish with your new ID and I'll let you know what I find."