Part the ninth
The armoured taxi is somewhat cramped, claustrophobic even, with the armoured bulk of the squad accommodated in its cheerfully graffitied interior. Jacinta and Steve both seem incredibly interested in the tactical implications of the traffic passing on either side of the vehicle, and Bonky is impressed to note that neither of them break their concentration for a moment whilst the ride lasts. Mel seems more pensive than usual as well, and keeps shaking her head as if trying to clear something from it. Bonky fishes in a pouch and offers her a grubby Karma-chief, but she waves it away and focusses instead on something in the middle distance that Bonky can't see.
Which leaves Sleet to talk to, and frankly Bonky thinks sometimes his colleague is sizing him up to work out if there is good eating on a Stormer, and whether it would be worth his while finding out. To be fair, this is not unusual behaviour for Wraiths in general, however it is the first time that anyone has thought of Bonky as a potential meal and he finds the prospect slightly unnerving. If not a little absurd.Sleet seems to sense this, and breaks into his toothiest smile, patting Bonky on his armoured thigh. He holds up a padded paw and extends one claw gracefully, then spends the rest of the short cab journey etching something into a small patch of matt black that has somehow evaded the Stormer's stickers and spray paint. When the Wraith has finished Bonky examines the engraving: he can make neither head nor tail of it but he sees it matches one of Sleet's favourite emblems, one that the Wraider wears on a little pendant around his neck. Bonky asks what, if anything, it means. The Wraith takes off his helmet before replying, and motions for Bonky to do the same. The seal hisses slightly as Bonky releases it from the rest of his armour, and Mel glares at him briefly with a slight scowl on her face before returning to her contemplation of nothing in particular and everything in general.
Sleet leans close to Bonky before speaking: Bonky can smell the Wraith's fur. It is a point of pride with Sleet that he never uses any non-natural cleaning product on his body, which in practice means he doesn't shower but uses his own spit instead. Bonky feels this is an economic solution to the rising costs of today's cosmetic products: the other members of his squad do not, apparently, feel the same way. The result in the case of the Wraith Raider is a distinctive musk, which fortunately is ordinarily contained by the seals on Sleet's cool-suit and armour.
Bonky is now in a good position to appreciate this aroma fully, as Sleet's head is right by the Stormer's ear. Sleet whispers,
"Honour is dead."
Bonky turns to look at the Wraith, but Sleet holds up one claw. He has not finished.
"Your problem is that you do too much for others. To... these, no matter how things seem, you are a tool, nothing more. Tools are expendable; replaceable. Think more of yourself and you will become more efficient. Efficiency equals continued vitality. Honour is dead."
This represents more words strung together consecutively than Bonky has ever heard from Sleet, indeed up to this point in their relationship he had been feeling that perhaps the Wraith Raider held him in some kind of contempt. Mel had tried to explain about the lack of artifical life forms on Sleet's homeworld, but Bonky had not really understood why that should prevent adapting to conditions where Sleet found himself. Now, however, Bonky is not so sure, and thinks that maybe Sleet has really been trying to help him out. He gives the Wraith a slightly puzzled-looking nod, and puts his helmet back on. He decides he will think about the curious little sigil and its translation later. For now, Bonky wants to concentrate on the job in hand. For after all, a Job In The Hand Is Worth Two In The BPN Hall, as the training lady put it.
Bonky is not quite sure what this means, either, but is sure that it is applicable in this case.
Mel shoots an inquisitive look at the Wraith which Sleet chooses to ignore. Bonky finds himself wondering whether Mel thinks of him as 'expendable'. Bonky finds himself wondering whether he thinks of himself as 'expendable'. He thinks maybe he does. At least where some people are concerned. He pats the GASH fist and somehow feels a little better.
Perhaps fortuitously the taxi driver does not attempt to engage the squad in banter of any kind during the journey. It is possible that had he done so some requisition forms for damage to property and/or personnel might have been necessary, Bonky thinks, and those have a tendency to cause arguments and headaches. This train of thought doesn't last much longer, however, as the journey comes to an end and the squad disembarks in silence.
They have come to a tiny alley between two large residential blocks near the border with Upper DownTown. Bonky checks up the street in either direction as Jacinta swipes her card in the taxi's reader. The speed at which the large vehicle takes off offers a clue as to the driver's preference of cash over credit, but Jacinta hates cash as it tends to spoil the line of her expensively tailored suits. Credit cards are so much more discreet.
She tucks the sliver of plastic somewhere safe and pulls her 603 from a concealed holster, performs a cursory weapon check whilst ensuring everyone can hear and be heard over the 'com. Meanwhile Sleet has activated his climbing equipment and found a vantage point on a window sill. He pronounces the target zone clear and Jacinta gives the order to move out.
Steve is on point; Bonky takes the rear; Jacinta and Mel are in the middle; and Sleet stays above, somehow keeping pace but always out of sight. The squad reaches their initial objective a mere 135 seconds after deployment. Bonky is quietly proud: the squad is on good form today, operationally at least. Steve kneels down and extends a tool from the gauntlet of his armour, which clunks into place on the bulky sewerhole cover. The device rotates smartly, and two large locking bolts clank out of place. Steve disconnects himself and indicates to Bonky that he should help hinge the door upwards: servos groan quietly in complaint at the exertion. As the door reaches the vertical, Mel sends something glowing down into the darkness below and illuminates the heavy duty rungs driven deep into the gently slimed walls of the access shaft. Moments later Sleet has rejoined them, now favouring a wickedly pointy blade and a pistol rather than his more customary 30-30. He gives a brief thumbs up before swiftly descending past the range of the Ebon 's illumination.
The others follow once the all clear has been sounded, Bonky last of all: he re-seals the entrance behind him using the oversized grab handle on this side of the hatch, and shuts out the last of the thin daylight and rain from the world above.
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