Jax awoke to a couple of immediate things. 1: it was swelteringly hot, 2: he ached in places he didn’t know he had muscles. 3: a sudden and loud clank that shook him awake. His eyes bolted open, and he saw a young man hunched over him with his head turned behind him. As he slowly came around, the young man turned his head back and said, “Ah, you're awake. Hey, get your ass out of the street, cleaners coming.” Jax glared around him and saw the other homeless scrambling out of the street. On the other side, a massive mechanical vehicle slowly made its way down the street, with steam radiating off of its metal surface, blasting the street it passed over with steaming hot water. Jax similarly scrambled upwards as he gathered his things as ran out of the street. He wiped his forehead, sweat dripping off of his body. Quickly, he tore off the poncho and some layers of clothing to cool himself down. Somehow the climate of this planet had suddenly heated up to such an insane degree in such a short time. Maybe the sun was particularly close and at night it was basically freezing. Either way, he had more important things to tend to, he had to get a job.

  [debt remaining: 999,999,999 V]

  Jax emerged from the tunnel like alley way into a massive square. Every which way he looked, there were vibrantly coloured stalls selling all kinds of wares, food and strange looking devices. There were also a seemingly endless amount of people. They wore strange outfits and no two people looked the same, between different clothing, their gear, and even their ethnicity there was seemingly endless variety. The entire square also smelled as vibrant as it looked. A strange blend of cooking and motor oil, food, metal and other almost unidentifiable smells. There were massive sails strung up between the massive buildings, bathing the entire square in a deep orange light. The sails were strung up so high that here and there a convoy line of flying vehicles passed through or alarms would blare. Supply lines between the industrial buildings would open and trains of boxes, machinery, and Argonauts would pass through. Slowly, Jax entered the crowd of people. Worming his way through the masses with a single objective on his mind. The Orion arm was a wash with chaos and bloodshed. Everyone wants someone dead, all they need is someone dumb enough to get the blood on their hands. And in squares like this is where those cowards go to find their dogs.

  As Jax wades through the chaotic inner heart of the market, hands waving and people shouting. Some address him directly, waving him over and loudly shouting prices and other commercial speak. Jax simply kept on walking. Keeping his eye’s out for anyone who looks like they're hiring. The market reminded Jax of his previous home on Alphonse. There it was as hot, especially in the mornings, and the streets were absolutely covered in markets and vendors. In his very early years, before his mother killed herself, he would go there and buy food. Often just tear and heat packs of nutrients. They tasted like shit. But there was a sense that came over him when he thought of those times. It wasn’t calm, anything but. However, it was a feeling that reminded him of that that could be. Eventually, after a short while, Jax had covered most of what the market had to offer. Some vendors had even started to set up shop as the cold slowly started to roll in. In the distance, between the still standing stalls, Jax saw a man. He was leaning against a lamppost and talking to two other men. What made them stand out however was the helmets strapped to the two other guy’s backs. Jax was sure they were pilots. The main figure, a young looking fellow with swept back black hair and a uniform reminiscent of early colonial era Pantheon. Jax wasn’t sure if he really was Pantheon or just had strange fashion taste. It was primarily a greyish white with a couple of patches of wine red cloth on the upper arms, shins, and chest. What gave away it's old era creation time was the patch on the right arm and right chest. Containing the old insignia of Pantheon. A sword cutting through the two sectors of space, designated by the rough outline of those two sectors. Out of date considering those sectors were broken up years ago. The man waves the two away and they, seemingly annoyed, or at least disappointed, and they leave. Jax approaches him after a short wait, asking him, “Were they pilots?”

  The young man looks at him, up and down, before he reaches into his pockets and says, “Don’t worry, I’ve got some cash for you.”

  “No, I’m not begging. I was just curious if you were hi-”

  “How does 20 Vaux sound, maybe 30?”

  “I told you. I’m not begging. I’m just curious if you were hi-”

  “You know what, have 40.”

  “I’M NOT BEGGING!” Jax shouts, stepping forward and pointing a finger at the man's face.

  “Woah, Jesus. Clam down. What do you want then?” he says, taking a step back

  “I’m a pilot, I need some quick cash. And I was curious if you were hiring.”

  “Well. I am, as a matter of fact, but-”

  “Great, I’ll take the job. What is it.”

  “Hey, let me finish. What I was trying to say was-”

  “I don’t care about the risk, I just need the cash. I don’t have an Argonaut though so I’ll need you to provide one-”

  “Just shut up. Stop interrupting me, please, for the love of god. First, I don’t know anything about you so the fact you’re just here in general is crazy, second; you don’t have an Argonaut. How are you even a pilot without an Argonaut-”

  “Mine got confiscated.”

  “Again with the interrupting. You know what, just fuck off. You need quick cash. Here take it.” The young man then proceeds to throw cash in credits onto the floor. Just ripping them from his pockets as he shoves Jax away.

  “I don’t need pocket change, man, I need real cash. Believe me. Just put me in an Argonaut and I’ll get any job you need done. Any job.”

  “I don’t need some homeless junky stomping around in a giant metal box of destruction. Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”

  “You know what man, go fuck yourself” Jax replies. Stepping forward. Throwing off his bag.

  “What the fuck. You wanna fight?” The young man says, stumbling back.

  “Yeah. Maybe once I beat the shit out of you’ll see I can put on some hurt.”

  “Fucking hell, you’re crazy!” he says, fumbling with a holster on his back pocket. Then in one swift motion, he pulls out a pistol and aims it at Jax’s head. Jax stumbles back. His breathing is ragged as he realizes the situation. “Yeah. not so tough any more.” The young man says with a smirk on his face. His previously neat hair now slightly ragged with locks hanging down. “Now, here’s what’s gonna happen. You're gonna piss off, back to whatever hole you crawled out off and, you know what. How about you leave that bag of yours here. Maybe there’s some goods you’ve accumulated that a friend of mine would like.” Jax’s mind immediately goes to his notebook as a fear full, angry and rage filled stroke pierces his mind. “You mother fucking bastard!” Jax screams. Scrambling up. But before he is able to set another step-

  “That’s quite enough.”

  A cold, mono tone, almost mono tone voice rings out. The young man, before he is able to pull the trigger, turns around and sees a tall, man? In a full two-piece suit. His head however was a strange robotic helmet with a glass front that curved up to the back of the scalp. Behind the glass was a misty dark green substance that swirled around, behind it were the vague features of a person. Dark pools where the eyes, cheeks, bottom of the nose should be. His visage was mean, with the dark pools that made up their features angled to create a menacing looking face, if you could call it that.

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  “I understand there is some kind of disagreement here.” they continued. The young man sputtered as the strange figure walked towards the two. Jax was also taken aback by the figure's sudden appearance. “Oh please, there is no need to be alarmed” The figure continued. His voice was odd. A mix of a faux comfort and commanding tone. “I am simply here to do business with this here fellow” they said gesturing to Jax. “However, it is my understanding that a deal is already underway?”

  “N-no. He’s all yours. I swear. I don’t w-want anything to do with him.” the young man said, dropping the pistol and running away. “Ah, well. Good to hear that.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” Jax asked with a threatening tone. A tone that attempted to cover a sense of fear.

  “Well, I’m here to make a deal with you. A “job” if you will” the figure said, dropping low and picking up the pistol with two fingers as if it were contaminated. Jax’s mind was split as the figure spoke. The promise of cash was there, but the young man’s reaction told him something he didn’t know. His presence alone kicked in fight or flight response, but there was clearly something else. “What’s your offer?” He said, cautiously

  “I am an emissary for the Corvus group. Service unit 1905, however, I go by Gabriel. You see, we are quite interested in your… specific skill set and are looking to perhaps form some kind of partnership between the two of us.”

  “What?” Jax says. The figure then slowly starts to approach him closer, as if he’s inspecting him. The Corvus group, the name swirled in his head for a while. It struck him as familiar, but he couldn’t place a finger on it. “The Corvus group… what do you guys do?” He asked

  “Well, we are a collective of operatives between various systems. Together we strive for progression in the Orion arm.”

  “Sounds like a whole bunch of bull shit if you ask me.”

  “Well, regardless of what you think about our organisation. We implore you to come and pay a visit to us tomorrow.” Gabriel then pulls a small piece of paper out of his chest pocket and hands it to Jax. “On here you will find the address to one of our locations as well as a prepaid FTL rail ticket.” Jax takes the ticket from Gabriel’s hands. It's a holographic paper that seems to shift depending on how the light hits it, creating an almost polychrome effect. The ticket is attached to one side with on the other some text and a logo. It's a sharp, thin triangle pointed down with a curved line angling upwards through the middle that also ends on both sides with a similar point. “Fine. I’ll attend your little chat.” Jax says, a twang in his stomach unfolding as he speaks.

  ‘Splendid!” Gabriel says, clasping his hands together. “Now, if you could excuse me, I have other needs to attend to. My sincerest apologies. I hope to see you tomorrow.” Gabriel then bows slightly, and leaves the square. Jax is left standing there, on the outskirts of the market, as the first flocks of snow begin to fall. An odd sense of curiosity washes over him. Corvus… the name sounds almost made up.

  Growl

  Jax’s stomach then goes from the twang he felt while speaking to Gabriel and then into a feeding hunger. He hadn’t eaten in two days and even then, the nutrition snacks on the ship were barely filling. However, the money the young man threw at him was still left on the floor. As the cold really started to get to him, he picks up the money and makes his way to a bar.

  Jax opened the door to the establishment and was immediately hit with a wash of warm air and the smell of alcohol. Behind the bar is an old looking robot with various tubes attached to its various arms, each dripping with drink. The rest of the place was covered in a cold blue steel with neon signs hung on the walls bathing the room in a polychromatic lighting. The chairs and tables looked like they were ripped from a military mess hall. Cold white steel and a single sheet design attached to the walls by a single steel pipe. In fact, the more Jax looked around, the more obvious the military aspect became, with the walls adorned with paper prints of pilots in front of their Argonauts and other military paraphernalia. There were a couple of people in the bar and some seated at the tables, all talking, and drinking. The robot notices Jax’s entrance and an automated chime rings out as it says, “Welcome to our establishment, please take a seat and I’ll be with you shortly.” Jax seats himself at the bar and the robot whizzes his way, “What can I offer you, young man?”

  “What can 30 Vaux get me?”

  “30 Vaux can get you our classic meal and a drink of your choice.”

  “Fine, give me that meal. As for the drink, can I get that “Crescent light” drink over there?”

  “Certainly sir.” the machine then whizzes into the back as the sound of an oven turning on follows it. Jax leans back in his chair as he inspects the ticket. Holding it up to the light and watching the colours shift between a bright pink and a neon green, all with an undertone of silver that brightens the ticket. “Didn’t know you frequented here.” said a familiar voice. Jax turned his head to see Fraser also sitting at the bar with a drink in her hand. “I don’t. First time, actually”

  “Ah, guess that makes sense.” she says, taking a sip of the drink in her hand. “You’re a regular?” Jax asks

  “Only when I have days off. Tomorrow I’m off to a new planet so it’ll be my last day here.”

  “Funny you say that. I’m also off tomorrow.”

  “Does it have to do with that there ticket?” She says, flicking the ticket in Jax’s hand.

  “Yeah, got offered a job. Or at least the chance to talk it over.”

  “Well, would you look at that. In a day, you’ve already got a new master.”

  “Shut up. I’m not some pet.”

  “Yet you still go from house to house like a stray.”

  “Your meal and drink, sir.” The robot says as a plate of food is shoved onto the bar table. It also reaches for a glass on the rack and fills with beer from one of the hoses on its arm.

  “Oh, value meal?” Fraser says with a smirk.

  “Beggars money can only get you so far.”

  “Yeah I guess.” Fraser says, turning back to the wall of the bar. A silence falls over them again. Jax eats his meal and Fraser, occasionally taking sips from her drink. It felt like hours since they talked last. And there was a certain tension between the two. “Hey.”

  “Hm?” Jax replies.

  “Most would be at my throat after doing what I did to you.”

  “That's assuming I don’t hate you.”

  “Ah, yeah.”

  “What i wanna know is why you’re acting like you saw nothing.”

  “What?”

  “On the ship, after the simulation. You saw my back. Didn’t you.”

  “Yeah…”

  “You acted like I was some sort of freak. You hated me, it seamed like.”

  “… Yeah, I did overreact a little.”

  “Don’t just brush it off.”

  “Well you see. After I saw your back, your Argonaut. I knew I ran into, who we called, the war dog, you.”

  “They called me war dog?”

  “Yeah. Anyways. I rang up my officer, and he said that I should bring you in. But the way you fought. There was no way you were just some pilot. And that's when I found it.”

  “…”

  “They really did that to you?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “No, come on. Just tell me. Did vanguard really do that to you?”

  “It brings back shitty memories just thinking about it. So I’d rather not have to bring it up again.”

  “I get that but… if you have all of that shit shoved in you why do you even pilot? Don’t you value your own goddamn life?”

  “I do. And that's why I have to pilot. It's my resolve.”

  “Don’t act all high and mighty about it. You know that from where you are, there’s nowhere to go. There is no going up.”

  “But I’m gonna keep trying.”

  Fraser then relaxes her posture, or more accurately, gives up. She finishes up her drink, flagging down the robot and handing the glass to it and slamming some money on the table. “Listen Jax. You're cursed. And while it makes you strong. You don’t have to play into the big man's hands. Remember that.” and with those final words she leaves. The food on Jax’s platter begins to cool. The steam slowly dissipating. He continues to eat. Fraser’s words echoing in his head. She was right, there was no way to go up. But at this point he didn’t need to rise. He needed to get out of the dirt. She clearly didn’t understand that. How could anyone?

  Hello there!

  Thank you for having a look at this little pet project of mine. Wight, (originally called Lancer and based in the setting by the same name) is a novel that I’ve been writing for about 2 and a half years. What you're reading is my 3rd attempt to get this off the ground, and I’m quite happy with where it's going so far. A lot has changed since its inception as a fiction set in the Lancer world, and if you ask me is pretty unrecognisable from its roots.

  Anyway, I hope to keep a rate of roughly 2400 words minimum per week but so far I’ve consistently been getting above that, with a chapter release basis of every week or bi-weekly, (probably one and a half weeks)

  This is a passion project and will remain that way too. I will always put quality over quantity when it comes to this story, so if release drop, just know that it's not because I’ve stopped.

  Now if you could excuse me I’ll have to get back to writing more Wight.

  Please leave a comment if you have the time, and drop a review if you have an opinion.

  Goodbye and have a wonderful rest of your day!

  -V