Chapter 2: Persimmon
Chapter 2: Persimmon
Beck kept out of sight and avoided trouble for the next few hours. He carried sacks of feed for one of the ranchers at the edge of town. Didn’t ask for wage or nothin’, just some eats. The rancher’s wife filled Beck’s belly with a heaping portion of gruel that didn’t look much better than what he was feeding the Gorns. But he didn’t criticize, warm food was a lot better on the palate and the body than the nutri-dose he had been getting by on as of late. He wasn’t able to eat most of it, but he thanked her and went on his way. Beck knew that a few kind words and polite manners could result in a kind favor returned, even if it was just a meal. Beck was not above taking what he needed but there would have to be need. Right now, Beck was just focusing on his wants. Then and there he wanted to pass time and get a meal. Things would not be so kind when he caught up with Chicken Charlie, or as she was now known, Persimmon.
The way Beck figured, she owed him. She owed him big. When they were in the war together, they were fighting on the wrong side, the losing side. They say there are no winners in war, that everyone in war loses. Some folk just lose a lot more. Beck knew that all too well. He was a shock troop at one point in a detachment of the People’s Navy. He left that world behind after he served his time after the War. Beck got time, Chicken Charlie fled. Beck never gave up her location, though if he did he could have walked. She was like a sister to him, and he sure as spit wasn’t gonna sell his sister into the Republic for reprogramming. Beck was reprogrammed. He knew that pain all too well.
After the reprogramming, Beck’s brain was garbage. The Republic couldn’t wire him with the Indoctrination Module as much as they tried, too much will I reckon. No one save Beck really knows why he was able to keep Chicken Charlie away from the Scanners, but he did it. To date, he is the only People’s Resistance fighter that was able to keep those intrusions at bay. He was the only soldier from Gallaway that was captured and so the only one that knew Chicken Charlie. She wasn’t a troop like him. She was a covert operative. She used that training to dig deep and develop a second cover on top a deep cover. That woman was undetectable unless she wanted to be.
Beck was never released from the Camps. He never escaped either. His brain showed so little activity after the Reprogramming that he was determined to be a loss. The Republic knew in his dilapidated state he was no harm to the Republic so he was expelled with the trash. Hubris was the greatest enemy of the Republic, more so than the Resistance could ever be. Of course with all he had been through, he was not exactly interested in taking up arms with the People’s Army any more. He lived his life and got by as he could. One day on Deculion, he saw notice that he was a wanted man. Marked for death even. 10 Mega Chip Reward. That was enough to make any bounty hunter’s time worthwhile. It was much to the chagrin of the Republic that the Scanners couldn’t find him. They would’ve gladly decimated a planet to make sure he was atomized just to recover their pride and heal their black eye.
Beck found his way back into Swallow. He waited anxiously in the alley behind The Rooster, trying to avoid the eyes of folks, but it seemed the eyes were everywhere. Dinnerbell rang. A few minutes later Saffron appeared in her finer going-out-and-about clothes. Her coat was in good repair, and she seemed to be cleaned up a little. Truth be told, Beck hardly recognized how pretty Saffron’s face was under all the muck. But he was seeing clearly now. And the plan was unfolding nicely. She met him at the prearranged spot at the prearranged time. Everything was falling right into place. Just as Beck wanted it. Easy like custard.
Beck removed his cap when he saw Saffron come around the alleyway. “You, my dear, are a lady of your word”
Saffron looked down at the ground as she approached. “Sure. Somesuch.”
Beck stopped his approach, hat still in hand. He had a bad feeling right around the cockles of his chest. He reached into his vest for a stimdose needle. He felt a warm barrel of a Derric gyrojet at the base of his skull.
A voice spoke from behind him, a husky growl. “you best be careful with that hand, son”
Beck stayed very still. “You little…”
“Pick your words wisely, Old Man.” A voiced resounded from around the corner. It was a short, stocky dirt and shit covered man wearing a vaguely yellow shirt and pilot’s cap. “We don’t take kindly to talkin’ down to the Whores”
The irony was not lost on Beck. He smiled a little smirk. “Okay then, gents. What’s the plan?”
The Pilot answered “You aren’t negotiating Spit!” He yelled at Beck. A small glob of sputum may have even hit Beck from the ten yards. The Pilot took a couple waddling steps forward, equal parts swagger and protuberance. He was a few feet away from Beck now.
“You’re coming with us.”
Beck grinned and started to feign exasperation. “No problem boss. You got me, fair and square. I am going to slowly and very careful like take my hand out of my vest. Awlright, Boss?”
The Pilot nodded. Beck slowly and very deliberately took his hand out of his vest and showed it was without a piece to his captors. The pilot turned his gaze to the man behind Beck and the Large man with the gun to Beck’s head nudged Beck forward. Beck easily obliged. On the way past Saffron, Beck gave a particular and very specific smile to her. Beck was pretty sure she knew what that meant.
The Pilot barked to his partner “Hey Tiny, the Skid is this way”
Tiny turned to the Pilot and retorted. “No way Boss, I hitched it over...uhnnn.”
In a moment of distraction, Beck spun around and jammed the stimdose dart that he had palmed deep into Tiny’s jugular vein and engaged it. The dose that Beck uses is far too strong for the average man, even one of Tiny’s stature. He immediately started convulsing and squeezed the trigger on the gyrojet. Beck was safely out of the path, but an innocent bystander was not so lucky. Both he and Tiny just had their worst day ever. Price of doing business in a town like Swallow. Beck triggered his neural enhancement suite and became a flurry of motion. He was on the Pilot in less than a heartbeat and tore a hole in his chest with his micronized blaster from within his coat. Saffron screamed a blood curdling cry, drawing much unwanted attention.
Beck ran off into an alleyway behind the Blonde Swan to regain his composure. Luckily Saffron was drawing all the attention and was unable to regain her own composure. Beck made his escape but was sure he wouldn’t have respite for long. He knew there were places to hide in the Desert, from his day working at the ranch. He would have to make haste if he was to remain safe. Maintaining stealth while keeping his speed, Beck made his way for the edge of town.
Beck did not know who the men were, but he knew their kind. What he didn’t know is whether they were on their own or if they were in league with Chicken Charlie. Perhaps she was less wanting to be found than Beck had even anticipated. Maybe she didn’t even know who was looking for her. Not that she would have welcomed him with open arms, but maybe she wouldn’t greet him with warm pistols just the same. The desert would be his only chance.