The Mercenary Enclave

Edward was looking out of the window, where eerie darkness ruled. The system he was in now only had a red dwarf, the smallest of stars. It was empty otherwise, except for a small station that was there to function as a radio mast between the systems. It functioned solely with the help of a computer and thus held no life. Its other function was gathering information about the system. For example, the warmth of the stars and the movement of celestial objects, as well as the ships that pass the system would be recorded.

Only a few more systems have to be passed before the transporter reaches the enclave. This would take less than an hour, thus Edward made his way back to his ship.

An hour later the transporter reached the system of the enclave, with the fitting name, Mercenary System. The system was at the edge of the Republic and of low value, fitting enough to allow an enclave to exist. After all, it was an independent faction or nation inside of a nation. There was a constant military presence of the Republic that monitored the activity of the enclave, consisting of two frigates and one destroyer.

The enclave had the appearance of a giant space station that was welded together with other space stations. An inorganized mess of stations that was ever-expanding. It was surrounded by hundreds of different spaceships that docked on long bridges. They were of varying classes and forms, with the largest being the cruiser of the Mercenary Lord, the ruler of the enclave. It was a long starship that seemed to mirror the appearance of the enclave. Its hull was expanding to the side irregularly, with plenty of niches in between that held many turrets and weapons. A purely military ship that did not follow any specific design, but instead just tried to bring out the most offensive power that it possibly could. A regulation of the republic states, that the largest ship an individual may possess is a destroyer. But the Mercenary Lord had an agreement with the Republic and was able to own a cruiser, under the condition, that mercenaries may only work for the Republic.

The transporter docked at one of the bridges, leaving the mercenaries on their own. Every mercenary had their own hangar space that they were paying for. Edward was no exception, thus flying in the Xenary Fighter he made his way to one of the hangars.

Flying between the mess of docked ships and other starfighters, Edward flew into a tunnel that went through the enclave. On the side of the tunnel were many hanger entrances that shone in a blue light. It was a barrier that functioned like the atmosphere, allowing things through but keeping gases inside. Edward entered one of the hangars and landed on the empty spot that belonged to him. He was finally home.

Packing his things and leaving the starship, Edward saw an old alien making his way toward him. It was of humanoid appearance but with grey skin and a protruding bone structure instead of hair.

"Ma good ol' friend, why did ya come back in such a dumpster? What about ya HD-V43? And what happened to ya armour? Don't ya have any consideration?" The hunchback alien spoke once it was within hearing distance.

"Missed you too, Ragus. How about greeting me first instead of scolding me." The alien was Ragus, the owner of the hangar. He wore the orange clothes of a mechanic, showcasing his profession.

"Ay ay," He winked him off. "Now tell me how ya survived and what ya accomplished. With ya HD-V43, ya could ram the enemy at best. Ha, the Republic must think of ya as an idiot, flying into battle to ram enemy fighters."

"If only you would know. I actually managed to take down one Xenary Ship!" Edward said proudly, leaving Ragus dumbstruck. He waited for a reply and answered just as Ragus opened his mouth. "But what a ship I have taken down. Prepare your old bones, for you won't believe it. I, have taken down a Xenary Cruiser."

"Ha, as if ya could. The raming must have hurt ya head, lad. Don't talk such lies or ya will believe them." Ragus laughed as he patted Edward on his shoulder. He pointed to the Xenary Fighter and asked. "So what about that thing?"

"I only want the ammunition and the Gatling gun, the rest you can dismantle and sell."

"Dismantle and sell. The value of the parts won't exceed 5k. And don't ya haggle!" Ragus told Edward and pulled out a flat device that resembled a tablet. He quickly typed something on it and held it in front of Edward. The display showed a transaction of five thousand Credits and required Edward to give his bank account. Afterwards, Edward was five thousand Credits richer, and the Xenary Fighter mostly belonged to Ragus.

After selling the fighter, Edward was finished with his business in the hangar and made his way out. He followed a corridor that went around the Hangars, before arriving at an elevator. Everything in the enclave was grey and had weak lighting, giving it the appearance of a poor living space. The reason behind it was the greed of the Mercenary Lord, who lived in plenty of abundance and did not care about the appearance of the enclave, leaving it to the inhabitants. They could decorate their own living spaces, but the majority still belonged to the enclave, thus the general space degraded.

While Edward was waiting for the elevator, other mercenaries arrived. There were five of them, each clad in space armour with various weapons hanging on their belt. Some had Handguns while others, mostly the large aliens, held rifles. But also close combat weapons like knives and swords were present. Each and every one of them was allowed to traverse the enclave like they were. To ensure the safety of the enclave, a constant police presence was necessary, but they were only for the general citizens and rather weak. Good enough for small criminals like thieves or the occasional murderers, but against mercenaries with strong armour and plasma weapons not much can be done. Thus, people in the enclave often carry weapons for their safety or hire bodyguards to protect them. But both options were only available for citizens with some amount of money available, thus the poor were reliant on the police force.

The enclave could be separated into six different sections. The living space, the working space, the hangars, the docking bridges, the dockyards, and control centres. The living space consisted of three parts, the lower decks for the poor and struggling, the middle decks for the middle class, and the upper decks, accessible for the upper class alone. The working space differs on each deck, with the lower decks having mostly industry sectors, the middle decks, shops and clerk jobs, while the upper class has high earning jobs for traders and rulers.

Mercenaries mostly live on the lower decks, where rent is cheap, with some living on the middle decks or even upper decks. Edward had enough money to spend his life on the middle decks or some months on the upper decks. But in order to not waste money, he was living on the lower decks, like the five mercenaries next to him, as the elevator only went from the hangars to the lower decks.

A grunt pulled Edward out of his thoughts. It came from the large mercenary next to him. He was nearly two meters high and clad in heavy grey armour, with great defensive capabilities at the cost of movement. He removed his helmet and coughed for some time. His skin was a mix of orange and brown with a texture reminiscent of stone. But the most notable features were the small horns that he had instead of hair. They were at most an inch long with the majority being atop his head, with some on his lower face. "Those damn bugs hit my oxygen tank. I had to spend an hour with limited air, but that wasn't enough to kill me. Ha, those damn egg crawlers deserve every bullet that riddled their bodies."

His voice was rough and deep, but his smile was generous. Even though his appearance was fierce, he radiated a kind energy. "Where did you lads come from? I tell you, I was in Megrodsa System under fleet admiral Warius. The bugs had damn hangar modules on nearly all of their ships! Their swarming tactics are one hell of a meat grinder, but the profit, ha, I tell you, nothing is going to beat it."

The other mercenaries stayed silent, causing the situation to become awkward. Out of consideration, Edward answered. "Sograda System, under admiral Yagun. Five Republican Cruisers against three Xenary Cruisers, both sides had many screens and destroyers. The Xenary were obliterated while the Republic had minimal casualties."

"A succesfull battle. While it's great for the Republic, what did we obtain?"

"Ha, you think the Republic was able to defeat three cruisers without losing one of their own? They obtained help from a certain someone. You will see, there will be news. Thus remember my name, Nebula Blue."

The elevator doors opened. It was grey and a bit rusty, like the rest of the station. Large enough to hold up to 20 men, and hopefully durable enough as well.

During the ride, only a little has been spoken. The large alien tried to get out more from Edward, but he was silent like a grave. While he was proud of his achievement and boasted quite a bit, he wasn't stupid. Someone like Ragus may not believe his achievement, thus it was safe to tell him, but these mercenaries? Either way, he may boast without directly disclosing what he did, as being a walking moneybag in between armoured mercenaries is no good idea.

Soon news about the taken down cruiser would appear. This is unavoidable, but also desirable, as it would boost his reputation and increase profitable contracts. So, no matter what Edward does, a target would appear behind him. But once it is disclosed, he would already own a better ship in which he would live. While having to not attract attention on a station. And if someone wants to rob him, then he has a gun for self-defence. Besides, extortion isn't as easy as on earth, as physical Credits are very rare and accounts are DNA protected.

The elevator stopped on different floors before Edward stepped out on floor 132. On space stations, floors begin from top to bottom, so that the rich may stay on floors with low numbers to show superiority, like on a leaderboard. The whole living space had over 150 floors of varying sizes and population densities. With the upper decks having the least amount of people per floor. But the average number of people per floor is about 55.000, resulting in around 8 million inhabitants.

On the floor was a wide, dilapidated hallway littered with trash and dirty liquids. The air was bad and stuffy, but luckily Edward had his helmet to breathe. Beggars sat on the side and rats could be seen scurrying around every now and then. There were also a few small shops and workshops that advertised with neon signs, which meant that the lighting was colourful but poor. Many places remained shrouded in darkness, especially the many alleyways. It was without a doubt a dystopian sight. But good enough for Edward, who had to pay five Credits for every three months of rent.

His own apartment was small but empty, reflecting his minimalist lifestyle. There was no window and the light came from a small and weak lightbulb. The side-opening door was rusty and dull. The single room consisted of a bed and kitchen counter, while at the side was a small compartment with a shower and toilet.

After entering, Edward took off his armour and left it in a corner, where it compacted. Afterwards, he took a cold shower, luckily in clean water, as sometimes only a brown liquid that resembled water came out of the showerhead. In a small mirror, he observed his body, which had two new scars.

His left side had the fewest scars, with three small circular scars from plasma guns, one from stabbing and, on his back, one from a slash attack. But his right side was filled with scars, starting from his legs, it had a massive burn scar that stretched across two-thirds of his leg alongside many straight scars from knives and swords, as well as one puncture scar on his upper leg. His upper body and right arm had many knife and sword wounds, while his lower right arm was snow white with every vein being clearly visible, as it was regrown. The most notable scar was the one on his chest. A large straight scar as if from a dissection. It was his most life-threatening wound, which he acquired during the Rexa Massacre, like the majority of his scars. They all were painful reminders of his past and a constant reminder that only a dead Xenarian was a good Xenarian.