Chapter 2: A Quirk

Breathing a sigh of relief to be out of the complex, the Mercenary cracked the seal on her helmet and pulled it from her head. Her black, shoulder length hair tumbled down in a matted mess. Almost subconsciously she started running her hand through her hair working the knots out. She had eyes of deep, agonizingly beautiful blue that seemed to be depthless matching a likewise beautifully framed face that was marked only by a small scar that ran from her right eye towards her ear; a reminder of her first mission as a soldier of fortune.
The console beeped at her and she glanced at the curious message.





Praetorian MK III Main System: Boot Completed.


Vitals Normal…


Exiting REM state…


Change Command Interface Y/N...Y…Completed.

Suddenly, a male voice spoke up as if groggy from a long sleep. “Gyah, what the hell…?”

The voice seemed to come from everywhere. Taken by surprise, the Mercenary jumped out of the chair and drew her sidearm scanning the bridge for the owner of the voice. “Who’s there?!” she called out loudly.

“Uh, excuse me, this is obviously not the military hangar, and you are definitely not military personnel. Would you mind telling me what the hell’s going on?”

“That’s what I want to know. Who are you?” The Mercenary moved in a crouched style slowly circling the bridge checking compartments and behind the ladder to the upper deck for the stowaway.

“I don’t think I’m going to answer that question. By the way, did you know that it’s considered very rude to not introduce yourself first before asking another’s name? Oh, I can see you, by the way,” the voice laughed. “I’m not behind the ladder. Nice form, though.”

A chill ran up the spine of the Merc and she spun around looking back over the empty bridge. “Where are you hiding? Reveal yourself! This is my ship now.”

“The hell it is. I don’t belong to anyone, and especially not you. Although, I do remember being told I was Military property at some point. Hah!” the voice chuckled at the thought.

“Property? Wait a second, are you telling me you’re the plane?” the Merc asked incredulously after a long pause. The voice grunted in dry amusement.

“You’re a weird one and obviously confused. No, I’m not the plane. That would be ridiculous. Then again, it’s not like you’d understand even if I told you as I don’t even really understand myself. Now, if you would be so kind as to answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”

The Mercenary stood up from her crouch, but did not holster her sidearm. She was definitely confused. Her contact had told her that the plane was equipped with an ultra-advanced computer/control system so that the plane could fly itself indefinitely without human crew. Maybe this voice was the computer, but she had her doubts about that. The voice was far too human for a computer simulation; even the latest VI’s didn’t have that realistic of voice synthesis. But she would still need access to the Navicom if she was to get the plane to where the buyer was waiting. This was an altogether unwanted turn of events.

“Then you’re this craft’s computer?”

“Mmm...yes…and no.”

“Can you be any less cryptic?” she was getting agitated at the game.

“Yes, actually. But I might be inclined to clarify some things if you would be so kind as to start giving me some answers, little Sellsword. Like maybe what you intend to do with a plane this big?”

“I can’t tell you. Sorry.” She wasn’t sorry in the slightest.

“In that case, can I have your name perhaps? I seem to remember mine being Gavin,” the voice said cordially.

“Gavin? Who the hell are you?”

“Hmm, how should I put this…” Gavin seemed to be thinking a moment. “I guess you could say I was once the chief designer in charge of Artificial Intelligence for the Sentinel project. It seems they changed the name since I was installed, though.”

“You were ‘once’? Installed? Make sense, dammit!” she snapped.

“Yes and yes. I can’t give you any more details though, sorry about that.” He didn’t seem sorry in the slightest. After a moment’s hesitation as if the computer was contemplating something, he said “Although amusing, this banter really isn’t getting us anywhere helpful. How about this, then? I may have just the thing that will help you open up and at least persuade you to give me your name.” A noise hissed from the back of the bridge and a metal sphere with a center fisheye camera lens appeared from a recessed alcove and floated over to gently bob in front of the Mercenary like a cork in water.

“Ta-da! This is my remote; my eyes and ears. Cute little thing, isn’t it? I have several of these things for maintenance, apparently.” The voice was now coming from the sphere instead of everywhere. This Gavin person was obviously patched into the plane’s internal systems. Ther Mercenary suddenly had a very bad inkling. “Feeling up to answering any questions now Mercenary? Like maybe what the hell is going on?”

“I told you I can’t tell you that. If you really are this ship’s computer, I’m going to need you to unlock the Navicomputer so that I can plot a star course.” Then after a moment, she added, “The name’s Kella.”

Without seeming to hear the last bit, the remote tilted sideways giving the impression Gavin was thinking. “Hmmm, how should I put this…? No.”

“No?” Kella was taken off guard by the response. “No what?”

“You are a strange one. You just told me to do something, and my answer is no.” Suddenly Kella realized he was saying ‘no’ to her accessing the Navicom. She blushed in indignation at the complete disregard of her name.

“What do you mean no? Give me access to the Navicom! This isn’t negotiable you stupid computer!”

“Like hell it isn’t,” the computer laughed in derision. “It seems you do not quite understand the situation you are in. You might have had control over this aircraft while I was waking up, but now that I’m up, that’s over. I’m flying the plane, sister.” The remote made a little pirouette to accentuate the satisfaction in the mysterious voice.

“Wha-“ Kella ran over to the pilot’s chair and jumped in. She tried to move the yoke, but it wouldn’t budge. Letting out a growl of frustration, she started tapping on the console for system access when it flashed: “Nope. No access for you” across the screen. Crying out in aggravation, she slammed her fists onto the console screen..

“Temper, temper there, little Sellsword. This is what happens when you don’t play fair. Now, what are your intentions?”

Kella ran her hand through her hair slicking it back in a subconscious display of agitation. “I can’t tell you tha-“ The plane suddenly took a wild nose-dive cutting her off in mid-sentence as she was lifted from her seat a couple of inches with the effect of partial gravity. Then, just as suddenly, the plane sharply pulled up slamming her down into the seat hard. “Ow!” she exclaimed painfully.

“What was that, mercenary? Didn’t quite catch that last bit…”

“I can’t tell you dammit!” The plane bucked again and she fell hard a second time into the seat. “Dammit! Alright! I’ll tell you! Just let me have access to the—“ This time the plane banked hard to the left throwing her to the right and almost out of the chair. “Alright, enough! I just said I’d tell you!”

“That last one wasn’t me, darling. We’ve got company. There’s a duo of Military Cavs out there taking pot shots. Did you ask Dad before you borrowed the car? Anyway, I’m not fully equipped with anti-Cav weaponry since someone rescheduled my launch time a tad early. Although,” the hovering eyeball said thoughtfully tilting sideways in a strange imitation of expression. “Is that your Cav I see in the bay? Mind taking it out and shooing those Military flies away? It doesn’t help you either if we get blown out of the sky, you know.”

As if in response, the radio crackled to life over the bridge speakers, “Mercenary aboard the stolen Praetorian, land immediately, or you will be fired upon. I repeat, you will be fired upon. This is your last warning.” A laser blast lit the bridge a deep purple as it arced mere feet from the side windows.

“I’m taking that as the last warning shot,” Gavin said mockingly. “I guess they’d rather lose me then let you have it. That’s really tough luck, kiddo.”

“How many out there?” Kella said, calculating her remaining power and ammo. She was not at all comfortable with leaving her payday now that she had it, but she’d be damned if the Military blew it up from under her.

“The radar says two, but I’d wager there’s probably a third in the sensor shadow if they’re following their regs.”

“Fine, I’ll go take them out. You’d better let me back in when I get back.”

“You have my word, little Sellsword.” Gavin replied a little too quickly. “And that’s as good as you’re probably going to get as we really don’t have enough time right now to delve into the whole trust issue.”

“Tch, fine,” she grunted. “Your word it is,” and she ran up the stairs to the passageway that ran the length of the ship’s ‘neck’ and along the spine towards the aft cargo bay.

Gavin’s remote floated over to the pilot’s chair and landed in the seat. The console switched back on immediately, and several screens flicked superhumanly past as Gavin activated the self-defense measures. He wasn’t equipped to fight Cav’s but he was equipped to handle incoming missiles and could probably whip up a surprise or two if the mercenary failed in the dogfight department.

“Ok, I’m in the Cargo Bay. Open it up,” came Kella’s voice over the comm..

“Go get ‘em, Mercenary,” Gavin said as he activated the rear cargo door. Kella positioned her mech at the end of the slowly extending ramp and turned around facing back towards the mammoth bay. Taking a deep breath, she tilted the machine back on the balls of its footpads and the machine quickly fell from the bay. Falling in a controlled dive, Kella hit a series of controls activating flight mode. A pair of wings unfolded from the Cav’s backpack and a small version of the Patterson Drive Emitter kicked into life firing its trademark purple spiral of energy out between the wings. Kella flipped a harrowing one-eighty and headed for the military Cavs at full speed. Moments later, the sky lit up with fireworks.

Gavin whistled, impressed. The sound came out as a simulated squeak from the remote. He sighed at his current misfortune but decided to grab onto the sudden opportunity with both hands. He fired the banks of over-sized PDEs into full-bore and the giant plane streaked off into the distance; away from the battle, the crazy Mercenary girl, and the military. He’d had quite enough of being an airplane’s brain, and it was high time he found someone to unplug him.

Meanwhile, Kella, busy with the Cavs, saw the purple spirals trailing off into the distance and began screaming over the radio. She was cut off by a Cav laser beam that came close enough to peel the paint off of her mech’s armor as a Military flyboy fired wildly in an attempt to catch her off guard. There was no response from the Praetorian. But this was not the end. Oh hell no. She would finish up with these pansies and catch up with that stupid computer, and put a virtual boot up its virtual ass.