Mercenaries’ Tale – 4.02 The Flying Hound
It took another 30 minutes before the airfield came into view. There was a small settlement attached; a number of houses, a diner and a fuel station being scattered around the strip. The residents ignored the car as it pulled up, coming to a stop outside the diner, only two other vehicles present in the car park. Entering the diner revealed them to belong to The New Dawners and-
“Gunner Manford?” Kate asked incredulously, “What, did Annie swing back to pick you up or something?”
“Nah. News travels fast and I’ve an eye for trouble. Got the hell out of dodge before anyone decided to check in with anyone you lot may have associated with whilst staying in Galmanoc,” he explained.
“He was waitin’ for us when we arrived,” Annie added. The five of them were tucked into a booth at the back of the diner, tucking into a selection of fast food when the mercs arrived. Mostly burgers, Tupper breaking the trend and chowing down on an ice-cream sundae. Doug and Kate joined the group in conversation, Gratin heading off to order some food for himself.
“Seems a bit paranoid. Aren’t you a vet or somethin’?” Doug asked, “wouldn’t have thought you would be in much danger.”
“Huh? I ain’t a vet, who told you I was a vet? Nah, I’m part of the same club these jokers are in,” he indicated Annie and friends, “I was their contact in Galmanoc. I was there to help ‘em out wherever I could. They need a hideout, I find a pub landlady friendly to the cause. They need medical assistance, I step up to use my skills. They befriend an ex-PSF asshole, I run a background check to make sure he ain’t about to give any of his old mates a call and give ‘em a heads up about a supposedly dangerous terrorist cell…”
It took a moment for Gunner’s words to sink in, Doug using that moment to light up his cigarette. There was a pause as he took a few puffs and blew out a smoke ring.
“Uh-huh, that so? Find out anything interesting?” He asked, playing it cool.
“I can see why yer mistress was so worried about you gettin’ recruited. You’d make a half decent agent with a sob story like yours,” Gunner replied.
“Only half decent?”
“With your temper? Yeah,”
“Good thing I didn’t plan to get recruited then, huh?”
“Offer’s on the table if you change your mind. You’d make a useful addition to our squad,” Annie cheekily said, causing Kate to give her a sharp look. Doug started to laugh, the others all following suit.
Gunner disappeared to arrange the flights as the Mercs and New Dawners ate, Kate letting him know about her group’s travel plans. Gratin had a small banquet to himself in a bid to build his energy reserves back up, the mage making his way through half the menu. The others finished up their food and chatted whilst they waited for him, before the seven left to find where Gunner had gotten to. He was on his way to meet them, already passing under the gates of the airfield as the group approached.
“Alright, flight to the C.O.L is currently docked in hanger one, the rest of you arseholes need to get to hanger three. You’ll be riding in “The Flying Hound”.”
“Interesting name, reliable pilot is he?” Doug casually asked. Gunner shrugged.
“He’s the only one not tied up with other business right now. Not many people willing to go that far outta the way. You’ll like him though; he’s one of your people,” a mere nod was Doug’s response, the soldier pondering if that meant the pilot was a fellow bastard, if he also hailed from the City of Light or if there was something else that tied them together. He let the question slide, the conversation moving on as Annie started her goodbyes, the southern belle having swept Kate up in a tight hug, the blonde practically in tears.
“Oh I’m gonna miss ya, ya silly goose! Don’t be afraid to drop us a line every now and again to let us know ya’ll are still breathin’, ya hear!”
“I’ll try,” Kate looked uncomfortable with the unsolicited contact but accepted the hug regardless, patting her old friend on the back awkwardly, “give Alex and Mi my regards,” Annie let go of Kate and clasped her hands around the gunslinger’s.
“Ah will! You just remember that we’ll all come a-runnin’ if ya need us, sugah. Don’t you dare fall outta touch with us again!” Kate forced a smile, Annie taking it as genuine as she stepped away, rounding on Doug. He’d put his arm back on before leaving the car. He’d considered leaving it off as it was a particularly obvious identifying feature of his but had decided to reattach it as he had no other way to transport it, carrying it underarm both awkward and just as eye-catching if not more so than just wearing it.
“You better look after her! Ah swear ah’ll hunt you down if ah hear anything’s happened to her in my absence!”
“I don’t doubt it!” laughed Doug, bemused by the situation, “we’ll look after each other, promise,” Annie gave him a long stare before finally nodding and turning her attention back to Kate, the red head distracted by a small business card that had appeared in her hand.
“Ya’ll sure you don’t wanna come back to the city with us? Polaris ain’t exactly a tourist spot…” shaking herself out of her thoughts, Kate shoved the card into her pocket and refocused.
“We’ve got business to get on with but I’ll be sure to send word when we get back home. If we decide to go back to the City after this, anyway. It’ll probably be for the best if we disappear for a while…”
“The power plant stuff ain’t gonna blow over overnight so I won’t blame ya if you find a rock to hide under. We’ll be sure to report what you told us to Tanaka,” this came from Thad, who embraced Annie from behind, “keeping all those mages secret is gotta be a big task, bet it’s pretty damn difficult to keep it that way. Now we know what to look for, The Council’s gonna be pretty damn eager to find that particular paper trail,” he winked.
“You be careful,”
“Don’t go worrying about us, Red, we’ll be looked after. Good luck to you.”
Just as the two groups were readying to part ways, Doug was surprised to find Parkinson approaching him. The sniper coughed, attempted to form a sentence, gave up and presented a paper bag to the soldier.
“What’s this?” Doug asked, brow raised in confusion.
“Some stuff to help with your side. Got it from a pharmacy in the last town we passed through. Antibiotics, painkillers, that sorta thing…” mumbled Parkinson in reply. He kept his eyes averted, this little social interaction too much for him. Doug jovially slapped him on the shoulder and beamed at him as earnestly as he could.
“Thanks mate, I appreciate it,” Parkinson tried to meet Doug’s gaze but was unable to hold it for more than a couple of seconds, the lanky man too embarrassed to do anything more than mumble a “don’t mention it” and make a hasty retreat.
Tupper’s goodbye was far more enthusiastic, the big man embracing a perplexed Gratin before stepping back and raising a hand for a high-five.
“Loved watching you work! We’ll have to see who makes the bigger boom next time!” Gratin, unsure, looked to his friends for support. Doug had approached Kate and had looped his human arm around her, the soldier looking highly amused as he not-so-subtly gestured for the mage to humour the bomber. Still unclear on this etiquette, Gratin tentatively gave Tupper the most half-hearted high-five anyone has ever received, his palm only lightly grazing the other man’s. Tupper seemed satisfied regardless, looking like a kid that had just been given a brilliant prize for all their hard work. He jogged back over to Parkinson happily exclaiming about his cool new friend. Gratin stared down at his hand blankly, unaccustomed to such interactions.
The two groups parted ways, the mage finding himself being flanked by his friends. Doug playfully punched his arm, chuckling at what he had just witnessed.
“Look at you making friends! I’m proud of you, buddy! You’re practically a social butterfly now!”
“Don’t patronise me, meatbag. I believe we have a plane to catch.”
As they made their way through the air field, Gratin couldn’t help but notice that the bubble of warmth he had sensed on the car ride here was still lingering around his compatriots. He had sensed something similar before when around his friends but never this strong. He began to pay close attention to the way his companions were behaving in order to better understand what it was he was sensing.
Their behaviour towards one another had drastically changed since the power plant. They were walking side by side a few paces in front of Gratin, the two idly chatting to one another as they went. Doug casually rested his human arm around Kate’s shoulders as he drew her attention to various sights along the way; interesting art painted on the side of the various aircraft parked up, a pilot sitting outside one of the hangers that looked the spitting image of the Yorkshire Terrier lying at his feet and so forth. To Gratin’s surprise, Kate didn’t shake the arm off. Instead she leaned in towards the soldier to better comment on whatever drew their attention without drawing the ire of those they were speaking about, the red head giggling at Doug’s jokes and causing Doug to laugh heartily at her responses. It was all very curious.
That wasn’t to say Doug and Blaise hadn’t always been close to some degree; they had always been good friends, Doug able to put Blaise at ease in ways Gratin couldn’t. This was something new though, a level of tension absent between Doug and Kate that had always remained between Doug and Blaise, keeping them at arms length.
The important thing was that they were no longer fighting one another.
Therapeutic indeed… the mage thought to himself.
The Flying Hound had seen better days. It wasn’t a particularly large craft, it only being big enough to transport four passengers at a time. Patches of sheet metal had been added where the rampant rust had eaten away at the hull. The engines looked as though they were in dire need of replacing. The only part that Doug liked the look of as they approached the hanger was the mural of a large, red devil dog chewing on a chain that had been painted on the side. He was busy admiring it when the pilot made his presence known.
“Ahoy! You there! With the scar! Put that cigarette out immediately! Don’t you know how dangerous it is to smoke around these craft?”
Doug found himself sighing as he stamped out his smoke. He’d only just lit that one up. He was preparing to argue with the man as he turned round, his annoyed expression mutating into one of recognition as he set his eyes on the pilot.
He was an eccentric elderly man in his seventies dressed in a tropical shirt, cargo shorts, socks paired with sandles and a fedora with little corks dangling from the brim via bits of twine. He was completely bold save for the bushy moustache that dominated the centre of his face. He was also beaming out at the world with enthusiastic innocence.
“Oh fuck,” Doug muttered flatly. To his friends, he looked like he had deflated slightly, Doug clearly troubled by this man’s presence.
“Excuse me?” the pilot asked, “that’s no language to speak in front of a lady!” he removed his hat to bow to the group, the gunslinger and the mage exchanging confused glances.
“I am Major Stanley Morrison at your service! You may call me The Major, most do!” he straightened up, eyes falling on Doug, who was now standing ridged, his human hand rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Not Major Stanley Morrison of the PSF? Officer of The Crimson Chests of the 89th fleet?” asked the soldier tentatively.
“The very same my boy! Always good to meet someone who has heard of my exploits!”
“I was there for a few, sir! Our retinue was placed under your command for a few weeks, sir!” Doug had fully reverted back to his military ways, standing fully to attention. It was worrisome, Kate leaning in to check on him.
“Everything alright?”
“Mmmhmm,”
This situation went over The Major’s head, the old man beginning to shift through the paperwork he was carrying completely unfazed. As far as he was concerned, Doug was addressing him in a way befitting of a superior officer.
“Before we leave, I shall need to fill in a quick questionnaire. It’s a standard security check, not to worry! You all seem upstanding enough so I’m sure there’ll be no issue!” The elderly pilot smiled at them. Doug was still stood rigid, staring dead ahead.
“Yes Sir!” he barked back, prompting a snigger from Kate, who quickly tried to disguise it by clearing her throat. This went unnoticed by The Major, who had finally found the page he needed.
“Alright then! Lets see here… What are your names?”
“…Trent Galvison, Sir!”
“Ah, yes, I vaguely remember that name. You were part of… that squad. Good boys, happy to have had them under my command, what. Served under me in the battle of… what was it? Blamris-”
“Glamonis VII, Sir!”
“Glamonis VII! Very successful campaign! One of my best!”
“…If you insist, Sir…”
“Although… you had a friend, didn’t you? A chap named, what was it? Mckenzie? McIntyre? Mc something…”
“McCracken?” Doug suggested apprehensively, The Major clicking his fingers upon hearing the name.
“That’s the bunny! Didn’t I court-martial him for something? Lewd behaviour?” Doug coughed awkwardly, avoiding his friend’s gazes.
“Yes Sir. Showed his captain his arse in the officer’s mess Sir….and got into a brawl with some of the officers afterwards Sir,” he could feel his friend’s eyes on him and decided to add “…to be fair, he got a bit turned around, Sir. Didn’t realise it was the officer’s mess, Sir.”
“Ah yes, that was right. I hear he’s a damn terrorist now! Always knew he’d land himself in hot water one day, what! Bit of a ne’er-do-well, that one!” Doug managed to keep a straight face but Kate could see he was so tense he was practically shaking. She began silently hoping he wouldn’t decide to lash out and punch their only ride out of here’s lights out. The Major remained in his own little world however.
“Ah well, what’s past is past. At ease, soldier, we’re all civilians here,” he beamed an earnest smile at Doug, who allowed himself to relax, a long exhale escaping his lips.
“And you, miss?” The Major turned to Kate.
“Amelia McMahon,”
“And the quiet bloke’s Archie,” Doug interjected before Gratin had a chance to craft his own alias, the soldier never able to resist a chance to mess with his friends. Gratin’s jaw clenched but he otherwise didn’t react.
“That doesn’t sound like a Dark Worlder name I’ve heard of,” began The Major suspiciously. Kate was the one to answer.
“His family moved here before the war and went native. Apparently they took a liking to Lusinian names and customs.”
“I see, jolly good of ‘em. Do you have a last name, Mr Archie?”
“Archibald. And my last name is…” a memory stirred in the furthest reaches of his mind, “…Ard’or,” he nodded in satisfaction.
“Archibald Ard’or. Pleasure to meet you all. And what is your reason for flying with me today?”
Clearly in a more playful mood now the opportunity to poke his companion’s buttons had arisen, Doug interjected before the others had a chance to fashion their own answers.
“I was hoping to romance the other half with a spur-of-the-moment trip to see the southern lights, Sir! I hear they’re beautiful this time of year, Sir!” his human arm snaked its way around Kate’s waist and pulled her in closer to better sell the story. This prompted the red head to peer up at him, bewildered.
“They’re beautiful every time of year,” the confused Major stated, “but why Polaris? New Scania is far more accommodating for romantic excursions. Or even the southern most reaches of The Dìguó Dàlù? There are some regions there barely touched by the Blight1 so your arm probably wouldn’t start malfunctioning on you…”
“Yeah, I know Polaris ain’t typically the go to for romantic getaways, Sir, but those other places are so commercial. We wanted something a little more… simple. My Amy loves a rustic experience and I gotta give her what she wants,” He gave Kate a peck on the cheek to emphasise the point, Kate forcing a smile but otherwise making no move to resist. Gratin could tell she was quietly seething though, Doug clearly toeing the line with his antics.
“That’s me. Love a rustic experience. It certainly isn’t because Trent is cheap, oh no!” She added, her voice sounding slightly strained. Doug merely laughed. All this was lost on The Major, however, who merely turned to “Archibald”.
“And you, sir?”
“…I like new experiences and learning opportunities,” the mage stated blandly. The Major’s brow knitted into a frown as he connected this statement up with the previous answer.
“I… do you mean that you like to watch or…” the pilot trailed off, becoming somewhat flustered in his bewilderment.
“He’s messing with you, aren’t you Archibald?” Kate interrupted, laughing nervously.
“Oh, yes. I am a card,” this was said in such a deadpan manner that it forced Doug to look away in order to hide his attempts to stifle more laughter. Kate shot him a dirty look as she tightly gripped the arm that was enveloping her, her other arm wrapping around his back so that she could squeeze his left shoulder.
“Archibald is actually here as a chaperone. My family are very religious you see and don’t like the thought of me cavorting across the globe with Trent whilst unmarried. They worry about what we might get up to alone and the very idea of pre-marital hanky panky upsets them. They asked Archibald to accompany us. To keep away the sin,”
“The very sexy sin,” Doug added helpfully, earning a tighter squeeze of the shoulder.
“…Very well… but don’t fire mages follow a love goddess-”
“Is there anything else on that survey or may we board?” Kate interrupted before the Major could think too much about the quality of chaperoning someone who worshipped a love and fertility goddess would provide.
“Hmm, well I suppose I could just ask you all to fill this in yourselves. It’s not like you’re wanted terrorists or anything! Haha!”
“Yes, heh heh, us being terrorists would be absurd…” Kate weakly agreed, attempting to feign amusement.
“Thank you for choosing The Flying Hound, welcome aboard!” He gave them a curt salute, handed “Amelia” the forms and wandered off to begin his pre-flight checks, allowing the trio to enter the craft. Kate and Gratin turned their attention to Doug as the Major shuffled off. Doug feigned obliviousness to any ill will he may have earned from his friends.
“So how long do you think this flight’ll be-”
“Romantic trip? Are you taking the piss?” Kate cut him off in a harsh whisper.
“What? It’s as good an excuse as any, right? Saying we were going on business or whatever could have been easily verified just by asking what company we worked for! We’d of gotten caught right away! Why are you so worried anyway? Am I not good enough for you?” his face was a mask of innocence. Kate rolled her eyes.
“Fine, if that’s the way you want to play it,” she leant in close so that from the Major’s perspective it would look like she and “Trent” were sharing an intimate moment, Kate whispering directly into Doug’s ear, “but you know I’m going to get you back for this, love,” and with that, she stepped away and entered the craft. If Doug was worried, he didn’t show it, merely shrugging to himself. Gratin sidled up besides him.
“If that was your attempt at flirtation, your technique may require work,” he observed. The soldier cocked a brow in amusement.
“Is that your way of offering pointers or something, mate?” the mage seemed especially thoughtful for a moment.
“Hmm, my last relationship ended with portions of peoples faces being burnt off. I do not believe my advice would be “up to scratch” as it were,” he conceded. It was hard to read the expression on Doug’s face after hearing this, his mouth wordlessly trying to frame the multitude of questions he had but ultimately deciding now probably wasn’t the right time or place to discuss them. Alcohol would be required for a start. Lots of it.
“You know, one of these days you and me are going to have to sit down and have a proper chat about some stuff!” the soldier eventually came out with.
“Perhaps,” was all Gratin said as he pushed passed and made his way up the ramp.
1The Blight is a phenomenon caused by magical fallout. The story goes that during the first Galactic war, the Capital City of the Dìguó Dàlù began taking in refuges from both sides of the conflict. This turned out to be a bad move as, upon seeing Dark mages in the refugee camps, the Light mages decided to continue the war on the neutral turf that was Lusinia. What resulted was a magical explosion akin to a nuclear warhead, the fallout of which still effects the region one thousand years later, causing technology to stop working and mutations to occur in anything that settles in the area.
Post by Sam | October 22, 2022 at 12:01 am | The Mercenaries' Tale | No comment
Tags: Airfield, Allan Parkinson, Annie Stone, Blaise, Diguo Dalu, Doug McCracken, Gratin, Gunner Manford, Kate O'Donnell, Major Stanley Morrison, Thad the Gentleman, The Flying Hound, the Mercs, Tupper, vehicles and transport