by Skyler Grant
"We turned a decent profit off hitting their band of raiders, but not enough for our purposes," Alexa said.
"Dear lady, I am already moving on. You have said that above all you need money, and while I hadn't planned on it—since it's a little difficult—that is just what we can do. You owe me two jobs. We combine our objectives and you rob them blind."
"That could work. Losing money one way versus losing money another," Van said.
"You okay with that? Don't forget, you're on this whole, let's not kill anyone but the guilty kick," Alexa said.
"We don't go out of our way to do it, but anyone taking the CMC's coin knows they're working for the bad guys. Our goal is just to rob them blind, but if it comes down to us or them, we pick us," Van said.
"Works for me. Know anything about where they keep their money?" Alexa asked.
"A bit. I thought about robbing them before and decided it was too dangerous," Mortimer said.
"Well, that's a great start," Van said.
"Most of their resources on-planet are in the form of metals. You don't get any value out of that and have no way to haul it away, if you did," Mortimer said.
"But you would," Alexa said.
"Well, of course, dear lady, of course—let us leave that door open. They bring in most of their actual money—coins, banknotes and promisory notes to pay workers, and so on—from off-world and transport it to their headquarters aboard a train. Hit that train while it's in transit and you can steal their payroll for a whole month."
"Promising, although hitting a moving train has problems. At least it will keep them from bringing in reinforcements," Alexa said.
"Do you have a second target in mind?" Van asked.
"Most resources are shipped off-world, but some are sold to buyers here. That money is held in the vault at the bank," Mortimer said.
"High security. The sheriff might step in. That is bad all around," Alexa said.
"We're bound to have problems with the Guild too if we start doing things like this," Van said.
"Not as much as you think. We pay them a share and keep hunting bounties, they won't take an assignment on us. Doesn't mean bounty hunters won't come for us. They'll just be private contractors," Alexa said.
What were yet more people hunting them, really?
36
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Everything that they had left to do on this world had to be factored with the consequences. Robbing the bank would make them highly wanted on this planet, and while that bounty might pursue them, anywhere off-world would bring far less attention. Sheriffs rarely bothered to enforce any crime that hadn't happened in their jurisdiction.
Robbing the bank was the absolute last thing they wanted to do. Robbing a train, they could hopefully get away with that—even anybody ever knowing who had done it.
Scouting a proper location for an ambush, Van and Alexa wound up riding along the rail line.
Alexa had gotten a new outfit as a result of her shopping, a blue and black ensemble with an absurd number of layers that made her look quite elegant. At times you could see the noble within her, however much she tried to hide it.
That wasn't evident today, exchanged for leather pants and a denim shirt.
"I'm surprised the tailor even carried something like that," Van said.
"Not everyone with money wants to exclusively hang around their parlor. When you're going out kicking tail you need an outfit to do it in."
Van couldn't argue with that.
"This could work," Alexa said.
It was where the tracks passed a large hill.
"Bit far to jump," Van said.
"Everything is going to be a bit far. I know I could make the jump though. Could you?" Alexa asked.
Getting on a moving train was going to be difficult. Trains always had problems with robbers and they had some defenses against them. Approaching the sides of the carriages put you in range of regularly spaced gun emplacements. Even if they had access to an aircraft, approaching it from above would mean countering an anti-air system.
Most train robberies were accomplished just like they were hoping to do it—boarding by dropping one by one from an overhang or bridge. Trains had security aboard too, not just mounted guns, enough to discourage even that, but they couldn't prevent it entirely.
"Let's find out," Van said.
They rode to the top of the hill and Van dismounted, taking a moment to study the tracks. Apart from a wandering storm, he hadn't really put his new body to the test. He didn't have near the capabilities he'd supposedly have after his first evolution. Still, the body ritual had given him something.
Van took a running leap.
He didn't even make it to the tracks, much less where the roof of a train would be.
Van hiked back.
"We can keep looking," Alexa said.
"We aren't going to find a bridge. Not out in the middle of nowhere. Let me try again," Van said.
Van took another running leap. This time at the peak of the movement he triggered storm flash. There was a moment of disorientation as the world became a blur. When he landed it was on the other side of the tracks.
"Better, but too much. You have more control over that?" Alexa called.
"Not yet. I sort of trigger and move, and when I stop, I stop."
Alexa eyed the hillside and the tracks. "I'll go first and catch you, if you look like you're soaring past."
"Works," Van said.
"We need to make sure you have lots of ammunition as well. I'm thinking you should mostly handle this one alone. I'll step in, if we're facing any heavy hitters. Tight environment, lots of cover, it's the perfect opportunity for you to master your aim," Alexa said.
"I get to stay dressed for this one I hope?"
Alexa shot him a speculative look. "Maybe. What we are trying to do here is force your essence into new channels. To dig out a new part of you, as it were. Your life being sincerely in danger can help with that a lot. Still, they are likely to be well-armed. If you're without armor, I think seeker-rounds might finish you off in a hurry."
"I could storm flash away, although if they kept following I'd have a hard time," Van said.
Alexa nodded. "Let's ride on. We need more than this."
Van mounted his horse once again and they continued following the tracks.
"That just because I'm going for a combat mastery? Are there that many essence-users not focused on combat?" Van asked.
"Everybody in the Dynasty pursues essence, to some degree. Not all are warriors, although almost any mastery has use in combat. There are bakers—massively muscled and of immense endurance who also tend to have a knack for alchemy. And there are smiths, many wielding their own weapons that perform far better for them. Better than anything someone else could ever make for them," Alexa said.
"Maybe I should have been a farmer," Van said wryly.
"They exist as well and the legendary ones are ... well, legendary. You've seen what spirit fruit go for at the market. Imagine being able to grow ones able to offer a boost even to the strongest of us?"
"Is seeking to master a weapon even necessary then? Even smart?"
Alexa shrugged. "It is what it is. The Gun Sage is the master of guns. If that is what you want to be, what you were meant to be, that is the path you follow. I would say it is a more difficult path than most, but if you truly succeed then you become a figure to give even gods pause."
"Gods?" Van asked.
"There are those so powerful they can burn worlds, transcend time—transcend any definition of reality we know. Some started as human. I don't know if some have ever been anything close."
It was something to think about.
Another hour of riding and they came upon an abandoned mine set well off from the tracks. A number of old buildings were half-collapsed.
"This will work. A place to stash a wagon and horses," Alexa said.
Robbery was only part of the plan. They had to get away afterwards.
37
"The path is not up the mountain but through it." Path of the Gopher
It was nearing noon the next day, the planet's red sun high overhead, and the heat was withering.
The train was due to arrive any moment. Van and Alexa were waiting atop the hill for it.
"The payroll we're looking for is supposed to be in the fourth carriage back from the engine. Wherever we board, get down into the train and neutralize the defenders. I'll make my way along the top. Take out anyone out of your league and stop the engine. If there's someone out of both our leagues, I'll head back and we bail early," Alexa said.
"Understood," Van said.
Van had made sure he was well equipped for this. Laden down with ammunition, and wearing armor and a helmet. Like this he'd be difficult to kill, although with enough piercer or explosive rounds he could still be taken down.
The train was visible in the distance, quickly drawing closer. A plume of thick smoke emerged from the engine.
Alexa waited longer than Van expected before running and making the leap, landing nimbly in a crouch on the top of the train. Van was right on her heels, leaping a moment later and storm flashing at the peak of his jump.
Van materialized in the air just on the other side of the train, already starting to fall when Alexa grabbed his arm and tugged him forcefully backwards.
"You held your jump for awhile," Van said.
"I could feel something. They aren't evolved, but there is some kind of advanced technology here. I think it may be power armor. I need to get to them fast. You do your thing, I'll head back to handle it and then I'll hit the engine, not you," Alexa said.
The original plan hadn't survived for long.
Van dropped down into the back of one of the cars, opened the door and went through.
It was a passenger car, a number of shabbily dressed people sitting tightly packed.
There was no reason to pick a fight before he had to. Van passed down the central aisle. The next car was another passenger carriage. A suited man blocked the way when Van tried to enter.
"Premium Class. I'll need to see your ticket, sir."
Van drew one of his pistols. "Just passing through. Don't make this any harder than it has to be."
The man didn't listen, taking a step back and fumbling in his coat for a pistol. Van put a bullet through his shoulder for the trouble. "Stay down."
That shot changed things. It was audible even over the engine. Van shifted his breathing into the pattern of the storm. Trying his best to channel the power into his mind, Van drew his second pistol.
One of the passengers took a shot at him, a woman pulling a small pistol from a purse. Van didn't bother to shoot her, not with a caliber that small. Instead he snatched the pistol from her hand and tossed it out the window.
The next car looked to be some sort of baggage car. As soon as Van entered he came under fire.
Explosive rounds drove him back from the doorway.
Van barely caught a glimpse of the shooters. They'd taken cover behind the scattered crates of luggage throughout the car.
Van took a deep breath. This was what he was trying to do. Right now he had an impossible problem—getting through that doorway exposed him to fire. This was also exactly the sort of problem this whole thing was about.
Van focused—really focused. There was nothing orderly about what was in his head. If he'd expected calculating trajectories to perfection, it wasn't happening. The storm was alive inside his mind too, and the storm held millions of particles all swirling around each other. Interacting, ricocheting, never random, he didn't have to understand the physics of motion—they were a part of something he simply knew. And now they were a part of Van too.
It was instinctive.
Van aimed his pistol at the floor and fired. Van could see the trajectory happening in his mind, the bounce off the frame of one of the windows, the ricochet off the baggage rack, and then from the back wall to hit one of the shooters at the far end—in his gun hand.
Van heard the shouts of dismay, using the moment of distraction to lean in and fire off two more shots. Each caught people temporarily out of cover and he heard the cries of pain.
Another two shots at the floor, this time simultaneously, and seconds later the sounds of two more bodies dropping. The car was clear.
Van reloaded before making his way back in.
The whole train was well secured. A lot of people had valuable cargo and had hired guards to defend it. None were enough. Some were well-armed, and seeker rounds forced Van back from time to time. Every shot he fired might as well be seekers too.
This was costing him. His remaining reserves of essence, filled after his ritual of the body by the storm, were rapidly dwindling. For the moment, not for long, Van was still a formidable force.
The CMC car was the heaviest defended of all. The guards had piercing rounds and Van couldn't get any cover at all. By the time he'd downed the last of them he'd taken a number of shots through weak spots in his armor. He was still mobile but feeling it.
Alexa had a rough time of it too. When she finally limped in from the direction of the engine he saw that half her outfit was burned away.
"They shovel you in with the coal?" Van asked.
"Try a wide-arc plasma cannon. I'm good. Let's get what we came for and get gone," Alexa said.
38
The Hall of the First Kings deep in the heart of the Empire is said to house a great secret, but only to essence-users. Those few members of the Dynasty to visit have walked away whispering of the start of paths where none should exist.
Van fetched the wagon while Alexa threw what they were stealing off the train. Payroll meant local currency and a lot of it, bag after bag of heavy coins. There were other things that the CMC considered valuable as well—paperwork, such as stock certificates being transported to share buyers. They stole all of it, loading it up before riding off.
The people remaining on the train didn't give chase. Van had tried to minimize the killing, but a lot of people wouldn't be shooting anyone until they got to see a doctor who knew what they were doing.
They weren't going directly back into town—that was asking for trouble. Rather they were heading for a nearby mine controlled by another family that the CMC had terrorized. Mortimer arranged to meet them there with someone who would be able to convert the currency into galactic scrip.
"So that was something," Van said.
"Not quite what you expected?" Alexa asked.
"I thought everything would be logical, that it would make my thinking clearer. It wasn't like that, not really."
"When you absorb multiple aspects, one is going to be your primary. I'm guessing for you that is either wind or fire?"
"Wind. The winds of the storm. I can sort of always hear them now, always feel them swirling around inside me."
"Wind is chaotic, fast, and unpredictable. When you become very strong it all makes a sort of sense. Until then you're always going to feel swept along by something you can't control," Alexa said.
"Is water or ice your primary?" Van asked.
"Water. Patient, mostly predictable, but it can surprise you. Most on my path sort of become more ice-like the longer we live and the more powerful we become. Our ways slowly set and everything becomes precise."
Van thought about that the rest of the journey to the mine—when he wasn't glancing backwards to make sure they weren't being pursued.
So far, nothing. He was sure there would be some consequences for robbing this train. Hopefully they were off-world before they caught up to them.
Mortimer was waiting along with a man in a suit nearly as nice, if considerably more plain, and several rough-looking sorts with a wagon.
"My dear friends ... loyal employees—we still haven't figured out exactly what to call you, have we? This is m
y associate, Mr. Winters of the Dalton Syndicate," Mortimer said, waving them close.
"I like his name," Alexa said.
"I'm an accountant. I'll be tabulating your take and offering you a fair price," Winters said in a cool, clipped tone.
Men began to swarm over their cart, opening bags and counting out the contents while they watched.
"We can trust them?" Van asked.
Winters said, "The Dalton Syndicate thrives only because of our reputation. We commit no crimes ourselves except for that of being an intermediary for the ambitious and the violent such as yourselves. We won't even pretend you're getting the street value of what you've stolen, but that isn't the purpose." He was counting through a bag of coins.
"The Daltons are good people to know. They've got a representative on any world where criminals are to be found and they truly are hassle-free so long as you play fair with them," Mortimer said.
"And you actually do?" Alexa asked.
"Dear lady, I am a model of decency and decorum. You know my reputation is impeccable."
"Even those of questionable morality deal fairly with us. Should they fail to do so, they don't get a second chance," Winters said.
"Do you operate on Dynasty worlds as well?" Alexa asked.
"Not as the Dalton Syndicate, although we have a close partnership with the Black Turtle Clan."
"Assassins and thieves. Their patron is supposed to be quite powerful."
"Good friends and terrifying enemies. You've a decent haul here, although you'd have gotten more if you looted the whole train."
"We were being selective," Alexa said.
"We appreciate people who know just how far they intended to go and go no further. You got quite a lot of company scrip here. Probably for paying the miners. We can find a use for it, but it is low value. Better is the executive pay. New Diablos coinage. There is even some galactic scrip. I'd still recommend you take ours, as it's clean, but if you want to hold onto any we can set it aside," Winters said.
