- Well, people, situation is such, - Scooter said, looking at Lily Rose with a sneaky and very obvious glance. - The Lance have set up a roadblock on the road, blocking the only way to the Crimson Citadel.

  - And go around it? - Lily asked.

  - Tower turrets - explained the mechanic. - Well, as usual. Either by road or by air. But by air... our aviation sucks.

  Lily was in thought, obviously about her broom, but cringed when she realized the limitations of its carrying capacity.

  - How well are it blocked? - That was Jim. - What about stealthily pass through, bribe, distract?

  Scooter shook his head furiously with such force that if he'd had a hat, it would have fallen off.

  - Hopeless. No, if you want you can take a look for yourself, maybe you'll see something, but the plan is different. You're gonna need a tank. Here, check this out.

  He slapped the ECHO on his belt, activating the holographic interface, ran his fingers over it, and a projection of, uh, an armored vehicle appeared in front of us. About twice the size of the truck I used in my enterprise, with a couple of cannons and a catapult. Hmm.

  - It's not a tank - Lily voiced the obvious. - They have bigger trunks.

  - It's not the size that matters, it's how you use the thing - Jim said, glancing at me.

  I thought of several ways of saying something funny and stupid, but decided that this team needed someone with some common sense. Just homeless killers is OK - that's an ancient, respected occupation. But killer clowns is a circus.

  - Let's go with APC, in this case it's not a big deal. Are you suggesting we fight our way out? It's suicide, even if the armor can withstand their fire, they will warn the citadel, and our only chance is surprise and unexpectedness.

  - It's a little trickier - Scooter replied. - Mo... I mean, the car ain't the only thing that's gonna make a difference. These dudes, Lance, I mean, just arrived recently, they haven't had time to do everything thoroughly. They got radio communications, heavy weapons only hand grenade launchers, defense installments powered by a couple of their own generators. If we hit them with an EMP, they'll be out of power for a while, and then we can either take a prisoner and make them report to the Citadel that everything's okay, or we can figure something out ourselves.

  - We could even make a false call for backup to draw some of the Citadel's forces away - Jim said thoughtfully. - There are options, though it won't be simple. Getting someone from the Crimson Lance to send a false signal won't be easy if you don't have your own man inside beforehand.

  Lily, like a schoolgirl, extended her hand.

  - Can I do, can I do...?

  - "Can do" what? - I asked.

  - Torture! - The girl explained with a happy smile. - In my house, it is generally forbidden, and I'm a decent girl, so I've never had the chance. And here is such an opportunity!

  ...No, I don't think I'll marry her after all.

  I looked at Jim. He shrugged.

  - Well, I don't mind giving in to the girl, he said. - In fact, if there are enough survivors, we can have a contest to see who can do it first.

  ...Fuck. What a mess I've gotten myself into.

  It's a relief at least Claptrap not here.

  - Uh, boss, what are you doing here? - this absurd robot had the nerve to ask my question in surprise.

  I came face to face with Claptrap, figuratively speaking, when I was scouring a large abandoned garage where a small pride of skags had set up, looking for a few parts Scooter needed to build an EMP bomb and an armored car. You can imagine my surprise.

  - What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Yellowrock - I said. - Don't tell me it's your twin brother, I can see your ID.

  - Is anyone going to let me use the twin brother line? - the robot asked grudgingly. - But okay, boss, you got it. It takes a lot of money to establish power over the world, so here I am, moonlighting.

  He demonstrated a small broom. Obviously, this explanation is lame, even for Pandora, but....

  "Incoming call from unknown caller," said the ECHO. Huh. Curious.

  I raised my hand toward Claptrap, indicating to wait, and took the call.

  - This is A, the informant in the Crimson Lance - reported an obviously synthesized male voice. - If Moxie hasn't alerted about me, you may request confirmation.

  - I wil - I replied, opening a parallel call line.

  - I'll contact you again in three minutes - the voice said and disconnected. I waited a few seconds.

  - Yes, darling.

  - And if I wanted to ask for money? - I asked.

  - We'd discuss the percentage, obviously - Moxie replied. - But you're about the team and the informant, I suppose.

  - Only the second, actually - I said. - A synthesized male voice, called 'A', said you should have warned me.

  - Sorry, sugar, business deal, you know how it is... Yes, I can confirm, A is a good contact to deal with. In fact, this contact has critical information, so try to get along, okay?

  - As long as they're not trying to kill me, I'm willing to cooperate - I noted. Then I remembered Kincaid. - And even when they do, there are still options... But it's more expensive.

  Moxie blew me a kiss and broke the connection.

  I looked back at Claptrap and found that the robot had managed to slip away. The main thing was to keep it out of the way and not die, but except it - whatever.

  "A" promised to supply us with important information, and began with an internal plan of the Crimson Citadel, showing key locations like the armory, treasury, and self-destruct system (why is it there, anyway? Purely for plot purposes, so players can destroy everything?), and a few digital keys. He promised to get the most important ones later, without mentioning payment. Moxie's probably paying. In general, it all boiled down to the fact that while we were mining materials for the armored car and the bomb, the informant agent would get the keys.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  How do you get resources on Pandora? The answer is always "Bandits." Well, or "Bandits and Skags." I can attest, I have experience and my own enterprise. Even in an abandoned garage, where it seemed the only critters were skags (and a few skythids under the floor), I came across one making a home in an old refrigerator. This freezer man nearly killed me with a skag ham on a bone, which he swung like a club with such force, in spite of his tiny stature, that it pierced the floor. That's where the Scythids came out, and they distracted him for a second, just long enough for me to slip away: he ignored the few bullets he fired at the undersized man, despite his lack of shield.

  Nails made from such people would be the strongest nails in the world, except for the adamantine ones from the Vladoff.

  However, the bandits our team had gone to together to get the missing materials were much more... within the bounds of human strength.

  We had two rifles, a bear, and endless grenades. I knew I'd switch to mines at some point as well; there's nothing more satisfying than relaxedly sipping coffee while watching enemies try to mine their way to the turrets under sniper fire. We had to make do with stretches for now, but even so my companions agreed that it was a good picnic that would be nice to repeat.

  Lily Rose's "staff", by the way, turned out to be an interesting piece of equipment. A dual-mode rifle that could switch between electricity and fire, against shields and flesh, with fire - plasma? - "bullets" also exploded slightly, and the electric ones made the bandits twitch funny.

  Uh-huh. I think I've really messed with a bad company that's a bad influence on me.

  - Is that it, or do you need anything else? - I asked, piling a third pile on the floor in front of Scooter, complete with LR and Jim's piles. Piles in a good sense, of looted stuff.

  - Let me see... - the grimy mechanic muttered and almost dived into the pile of materials. - Oooooh, nice! They even had a fourth issue of Mecha-assholes and Electrofetishists!

  - What did you say? - I asked, hoping I'd misheard.

  - I'm saying that you can't find such engines without a license - the guy said. Yeah, you heard me... "My internal combustion's sister"! With additional illustrations?!...? Wow!

  ...Fuck it, let it be.

  - Sorry to bother you, sugar, but there's been an unforeseen complication. - Moxie looked as unfazed as ever. - The informant has a problem.

  - I take it we're not calling off the operation? - I asked.

  - No, it's not that bad. All you have to do is break into the old prison near the Crossroads and get the informant out of there.

  There are times when you want to kill somebody, but then you realize you've done it before, and recently.

  I signed.

  - All right. How do we find him and identify him?

  Normal heroes always take a detour, so this additional task wasn't surprising at all. Jim and Lily were completely at ease with it; for the mercenary it was, like for me, a normal and expected surprise, for the crazy girl - an additional opportunity to "practice Maliwan's special weapon magic" on live targets.

  Even the fact that it took another "sidequest" didn't change the picture.

  Just getting to the prison was impossible; the Crimson Lance had also blocked the road in that direction, and while this post was quite squishy and breaking through wouldn't be much of a problem, it would raise an alarm that we didn't need: the whole plan to storm the Crimson Citadel relied on surprise and speed before any fuss was made. Unlike the Citadel, there was also another path leading to the prison called the Locked Palace... before. The bridge over the abyss was simply crushed by the Crimson Lance men, so as not to spread their forces to guard another strategic object.

  Savages and barbarians that make an engineer's heart bleed. You didn't build it, you don't have to break it...

  In any case, such trifles as an abyss of a couple of dozen meters did not stop the reckless Pandorians. When Scooter voiced a new list of requirements, including a small antigrav and a set of plates made of "aviation" alloys, I decided that he wanted to try to build something flying.

  Well, almost.

  - I thought it was going to be something flying - I said, frowning as I examined the new By Scooter model. It looked like a lightweight Courier. - less armor, thinner frame, a little different suspension - but the engine is more powerful, and it had antigrav. But it's a weak one, and doubtful that it'll allow even such a lightweight design to take to the air.

  - Oh, this baby flies - Jim reported. He'd had a chance to try it out, and had taken a seat behind the wheel, so that Lily Rose and I were left to get along in the gunner's nest or on the frame. - Nice car.

  - Well, I'll take your word for it - I said doubtfully. Personally, I prefer more armor. And guns. And preferably a good shield.

  I had my doubts at first, as soon as I saw the car, but when we pulled up, without slowing down, to the abyss and I saw the structure in front of it... At first I thought it couldn't really be what I thought it was.

  Then I sadly remembered that I was on Pandora.

  And yet, hope dies last.

  - You can't be serious, can you? - I turned to Jim over the hum of the engine. He grinned instead of answering. - Come on, we could just take turns flying over on Lily's broomstick...

  - Nope! Not gonna make it - the girl said enthusiastically, and Jim added gas.

  And then turned on the accelerator, guiding our transport to the ramp.

  - YAHOO!

  - OH, YEAH, BABY!

  - AAAAAH!

  - I think we hit the rakk... - I said with a tremor in my voice. - I-I-I'm s-so sorry for him...

  Jim patted my shoulder understandingly.

  - Be strong, amigo. You'll remember him on the way back.

  I looked at the ramp from this side and nodded.

  - Yeah. I'll d-definitely r-remember him.