“Suierrillax, whatever you’re doing, stop.”

The skrell woman stopped reading her report; looking up to see Jarberry materialize in her office.  Outside of sending reports to him on Kyle’s activities, they rarely communicated anymore, the imp having been wrapped up in his own projects.  For Jarberry to have shown up, in person nonetheless, was concerning.

“What’s happening?” Suierrillax asked, all thoughts of banter set aside.

“Something went terribly wrong with Mayhew’s mission.  I need to track down anything you can on Kertan Six, now.”

The imp’s tone left no room for debate, and Suierrillax quickly accessed her monitor, pulling up everything she could on the current state of Mayhew’s mission.  The first message that crossed her desk made her blood run cold.

Attention Corthian Mining forces,

Malcolm Corthus has fallen.  Make a full retreat to the nearest settlements, and evacuate.  On the orders of the Gray Conglomerate, Kertan Six is to be fully evacuated.  The planet is lost.  Malcom’s slayer is unknown, but should be considered extremely dangerous, and still at large.  Teleporters have been calibrated to remain open for any without clear fungal traits, and additional antifungals will be provided at the holding facilities.

“How could Malcom Corthus have died?” Suierrillax whispered, almost to herself.  She wasn’t an expert on combat power by any means, but the idea that a renowned C Grade would die on a lower E Grade world was madness.  Could they really be that bad?  She wondered.

Jarberry swore, pulling up a screen from his nav bracelet.  The video was grainy, clearly taken from a long distance, but she could make out what looked like a cataclysmic battle, with massive waves of magma and fire ripping across the landscape.  One of the shapes stood in the middle of the storm of fire and stone, while another, smaller shadow deftly avoided each attack.  Who is that? she wondered.

The molten earth condensed and swirled into a ball, which she surmised was a defensive technique of some sort.  Then, a moment later, a massive hole opened up in the shell.  The waves of magma stopped.  The controlled flames seemed to sputter for a moment and peter out.  The shadowy figure disappeared, leaving the image in stillness.

They sat in silence in Suierrillax’s office for a moment, until Jarberry quietly spoke.  “That was Malcolm Corthus.”

“So the job was a failure,” Suierrillax murmured, pulling up the contract.  Technically, Kyle would still get paid, even if the job didn’t end well.  Which mean, by extension, that she would get paid.  So, it wasn’t all bad in her view.  Still, she frowned as she looked at Jarberry, whose expression was still very serious.

“What’s wrong?  What aren’t you telling me?”

“An old friend of mine in the Mercenary’s Guild made mention that Angela Corthus visited them personally before posting for this job.”  Jarberry sighed, pulling a small flask out of thin air and taking a drink before continuing.  “I did a little digging, and from what I found, she wasn’t just shopping for mercenaries.  She was building a contingency plan.”

“What does that mean?” Suierrillax asked.

“It means that Kyle better evacuate soon, because she paid a handsome retainer for a ‘just in case,’ and she’s going to use it,” Jarberry replied.

Suierrillax pulled up the tracking function on Kyle’s nav bracelet, then frowned.  Usually she’d get a read on his location at a minimum, but the signal seemed to be garbled.  Refining it further, she tracked his movements.  She identified the moment when the signals were getting jammed, then saw afterward when he began to move again.

Her frown deepened, as the signal from the history seemed to be clear.  She watched as he moved rapidly across the landscape, past the nearest of the marked teleportation platforms.  Where is he going?  He continued to run, all the way to the next set of teleportation platforms.  And then her eyes widened as she saw the signal from the nav bracelet destabilize, and then disappear.

“What happened?”  Jarberry snapped, looking at her with a serious expression.

“I’m figuring that out,” Suierrillax replied, not willing to accept the most likely probability.

Moments later, she got access to the local messages from the settlement where Kyle’s location went missing.  She paled as she read them, skimming past the same phrases over and over again.

…under attack…

…monster appeared…

…send help…

…run away…

Then, finally, she found the security footage.  A good number of the cameras had been knocked out, but Suierrillax was able to find a set that tracked Kyle’s movements through the settlement as she projected the footage for both herself and Jarberry.

They saw the umistakeable image of Kyle swerving around the settlement, with a shadowy figure in hot pursuit.  Some angles of the chase weren’t covered, but they finally landed on a scene where the shadowy figure punched a massive hole in the floating structure, with Kyle’s back against it.  They watched in silence as Kyle tried to block another attack, only to have the left side of his chest destroyed.  They watched him fall into the pit beyond.

There’s no way… Suierrillax thought, staring at the now-empty footage.  Jarberry floated nearby, also in stunned silence.  They just watched Kyle Mayhew die.

~~~

“Truly a pity that you didn’t choose to hire me sooner,” the velgian said, faux sadness tinging his voice.

If his presence weren’t so overwhelming, Angela Corthus would have struck him for the comment.  As things stood, however, she didn’t have that luxury.

“We agreed to terms,” she replied, her voice granite.  “Those terms have been met.  Now, is there anything further you need to discuss?”

Even though this mission was a catastrophic loss, Angela couldn’t – wouldn’t – allow herself to show weakness.  Not in front of this man.  Not in front of one of the twin prodigies of the Alabaster Court.

“Oh, come now,” Perhades pouted, the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to hold his frown.  “You just lost one of your dear nephews, not to mention how many others between the Guild and your own employees.  From the look of things, quite a mess has been made of the civilian population as well.  If you’d prefer to take some time to think your decision over, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“What is there to think over?” Angela shot back, meeting his eyes.  Perhades had the pale skin and silver hair common to velgians, though his almond-shaped eyes were a fiery orange instead of the usual lighter shades.  Behind the eyes was a wicked cruelty, looking to get her to crack.  To break.  She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Oh, plenty,” Perhades replied, a thin smile playing over his delicate features.  “For one, your nephew’s remains will never be recovered.  Two; you will have to answer for any collateral damage.  That can get quite pricey, you know.  I highly doubt that there will be anything left worth salvaging to defray those costs.  Three; once you’ve gone so far as to hire myself or my brother, you’re sending a message to the entire Collective that you’re willing to involve B Grades in C Grade matters.”

“And what, pray tell, does that say about you, Mr. Perhades?” Angela interrupted.  “Given your willingness to take such a job?”

“Now, now,” Perhades replied in mock offense.  “Do we blame the weapon, or the person wielding it?  My path is to reach the pinnacle of mana manipulation, nothing more, nothing less.  I pursue it through making my services available through the Collective, at prices commensurate to my power.  You are the one who paid that price.  You are the one who pointed the weapon.”

“When I’ve pointed weapons in the past, Mr. Perhades, they didn’t tend to talk back nearly this much.”  Her cold eyes met his, leaving no room for further discussion.

“Fine, fine.  I’ll be on my way.  When I arrive, though, I intend to fulfill my objective, and then go home.  So you’d best move up that evacuation timeline.”  His eyes flickered with a barely-contained inferno, and the temperature in Angela’s office rose uncomfortably as the B Grade vanished.

Gasping, Angela put a shaking hand on her desk, stabilizing herself.  It took all the self-control she had to be in the same room as the B Grade, whose very presence took a toll on her mana cultivation.  The man was practically a black hole for mana, his natural recovery placing strain on the entire world around him.  Of course, that’s assuming it was his natural regeneration and not an intentional slight.

Perhades was widely regarded as the most powerful Mage-type awakened outside of A Grade, and the person with the highest level of raw destructive talent among all the Collective’s Guilds.  The price for hiring him cost more in credits than the entire expedition, a cost that would be crippling to Corthian Mining.  A cost that she would gladly pay over again, after everything she’d lost.

Ever since the expedition had been grounded, Angela had an uneasy feeling about pursuing this mission.  Something about it didn’t feel right; particularly when it came to light that the C Grade fungus managed to co-opt parts of their shuttle.  With no reports of C Grades anywhere in the system, she carried a suspicion that the true danger was on their shuttle the whole time.  There had never been a documented case of awakened fungi using tools or mana formations in this way.  No, she’d suspected there was an intelligence behind it all, and yet she’d allowed Malcolm to pursue it anyway.

And now, he was dead.  The little boy she’d been so thrilled to meet, who she’d watched grow into his power.  A young man, so full of ambition and confidence.  Gone.  She sighed, pulling out a bottle from a drawer in her desk.  This would have been your desk someday, she mused, pouring herself a glass of amber liquid.  Of her two nephews in C Grade, Malcolm had always been the better businessman.  She’d dreamed of passing Corthian Mining off to him someday.

Angela took a drink, relishing the burn as the strong liquor went down.  Then, she poured another.  Malcolm wasn’t the only one who died, though his passing still rocked her the most.  Among the Guild hirelings, Kyle Mayhew, the refugee from Earth, was confirmed dead.  She’d watched the video herself, the young man taking an injury no D Grade could possibly survive.  Another investment that never had time to truly pay off, she mused.  At least he’d get the satisfaction that the whole damn planet would get cleansed of the filth that killed him.

There would be consequences for her actions.  There would undoubtedly be investigations, protests, and endless meetings.  She would be asked to speak to the public about what transpired, her decision-making, and everything else in between.  She would be confronted with the deaths and failures of her organization, and the others who had a presence on Kertan Six.

But those consequences were something for the future.  Something for tomorrow.  For now, she would drink.  She would cry.  And she would remember.