"What do you want here?" the point Red Ants broadcast and announced over a scratchy PA system, the Ants were displaying the clan markings they had been looking for.
Marcus Anthony spoke towards the audio pickup in the back of the hover car, "I need to speak with whoever is in charge around here."
"Ok, that way." the same Red Ant directed them towards one of the clusters of buildings.
As they passed the dilapidated Red Ants Marcus noted the shiny new look of the Force Ion Beams they held. The same held true of the nine Red Ants they saw as they approached the cluster of buildings, which turned out to be fifteen Egeria class portable bases. The second group of sentries directed him towards a portable base with a Holmes standing out front, but insisted the Dreadnaught and Torrent stay outside of their perimeter.
"Guido, Nunzio," Marcus addressed the mecha pilots that accompanied his car, "I'll call you if I need... assistance. You have range on the Holmes anyway I assume?"
"Yes, boss." Both pilots replied.
"Very well," Marcus thought this negotiation a waste of time but he had his orders. The hover car pulled up outside the Egeria, in the shadow of the Holmes Marcus noticed a man lounging in a wooden chair with a large hat pulled down over his face. Marcus and his two body guards exited the hover car, while the driver waited in the cockpit, and approached him. The man was wearing a poncho over loose fitting shirt and pants, everything was earth tones and dirty, he seemed to have three gun belts full of ammunition on, one around his waist and two crossed over his large chest, two prominent and well polished holsters held rather large and archaic slug throwers.
The man in the poncho watched the man and two women in well tailored high fashion suits approach him. The man was holding a handkerchief over his nose and mouth in a poor attempt to block dust and his other hand was shading his eyes despite the obviously expensive sunglasses he wore. The man in the poncho chuckled quietly to himself and signaled his second to close the trap with a com hidden in the folds and pockets of his clothing.
"Excuse me, sir," Marcus Anthony said as he got close, "are you the leader of this clan."
"No I am not," The man in the poncho said, he paused just long enough for Marcus Anthony to start asking another question and then continued, "I am the leader of this Faction. Los Banditos Locos has all three clans here."
"And you are?" Marcus asked.
"I... am Generalisimo Juan Chavez Santana-Rodriguez!" The man in the poncho tipped up his sombrero and winked at the nearest of the female body guards. "Who are you?"
"I am Marcus Anthony; I represent a consortium of advertising firms and banks with strong ties to the galactic senate and the lottery commission." He was trying to sound impressive but started coughing at that point and barely choked out, "we have business to discuss."
General Santana-Rodriguez pulled his sombrero back down over his face, "now is Siesta time, come back after the temperature drops below one hundred degrees and we can discuss business."
"Ha,ha," Marcus said dryly, "that will be months from now on this world. I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist we discuss this now." For the first time there was a hint of ferrite in his voice, "Why don't we go inside?"
The General waved his hand dismissively and uncovered his face, "very well. Here will be fine though. I must warn you Los Banditos Locos do not like suits. We will have to charge you extra because we know you can pay for it."
Marcus turned slightly redder than he already was due to the suns, "I am not here to hire your services. This is in regards to your last visit to Cogwerk Port and incidents which occurred there."
The General sat up straight and waved a hand towards the nearest hanger door of the base. Several men in grubby technicians' overalls brought out a table, 3 chairs, a covered pitcher and several glasses. While this was going on the General said, "Hmm, I might have drank a bit too much last time I was at Cogwerk Port, would you care to remind me of what incidents you refer?" As he finished he poured himself a glass of cold water, took a sip, gestured to the empty chairs and before Marcus could respond, "please, sit and drink the air here tends to dry the throat."
Marcus decided to sit although his body guard did not; one placed a filtration straw in a glass and poured some water for him. He took a drink before responding, "I refer to an attack by Los Banditos Locos mecha on brokers working for my employers, just prior to you over seeing a purchase of more than 10,000 Force Ion Beams and 5000 Double Modren launchers at a meeting those brokers were heading for."
The General laughed, "Many of the rogues of Cogwerk Port will paint their mecha to match those of visiting mercenaries and privateers, there is no proof that attack was done by my people. As for my beating out your employers representatives at a private business deal in the Cogwerk Port black market that just sounds like the risks of doing business in Cogwerk Port's black market. What do you want from us?"
"I need those weapons you purchased; we know you haven't sold them yet." Marcus pointed towards one of his bodyguards; she was carrying a case normally used to contain a secure bank transaction register. He didn't want to be on this useless rock of a world any longer than necessary so decided to cut to the chase, "I have been authorized to pay you full market value for them to be deposited in the banking warehouse of your choice."
"That is a very good deal, much more than we paid for them, of the sort I can't refuse, however..." the General paused, seeming to think the offer over. The grubby technicians returned and one handed the General a datapad. He looked it over and then said, "Very nice offer indeed, however, I am going to decline it."
"What!" Marcus was completely taken aback, "Most people sell those things off pretty quickly. Why would you want to keep them when you could get better? Your clans have had them for more than a week."
The fact that most people sell them off quickly was the very reason Marcus was there, as far as he understood it went something like this: Approximately 90% of all Force Ion Beams and Double Mordens sold or given as prizes were immediately exchanged for other resources and as such the new temporary owner never actually took possession of them. Another 9% were never actually used and sold for resources within days never having left a bank warehouse. Approximately 0.9% was actually mounted on mechas and used in combat but again were often replaced with better gear within a week and sold back to the market. What Los Banditos Locos had done was to grab up more than 10% of the actual weapons that should have been in a bank warehouse for this marketing sector. The local advertising firms and banks were already feeling the strain and this was affecting the bottom line for the consortium Marcus worked for in both their crystal and niode businesses. He needed to solve the problem one way or another.
"Oh, don't worry, we will sell them, when we are ready to, but now is not the time." The General smiled a broad grin, teeth visible beneath his mustache.
Marcus stared straight into the General's eyes, "This is a regrettable decision you have made, I had hoped to avoid this."
"If you're smart, not as regrettable as what you're about to do." The General said. Marcus had started reaching for his personal communicator and stopped hearing those words. He realized the five technicians were all pointing flechette guns at him, his two body guard had both drawn dual laser pistols but the odds were not in Marcus's favor of getting up from the table in one piece.
The General continued, "Let me give you a little more data so you can make a more educated decision. I'm sure the Consortium you work for hired some very able bodied and capable pilots when they got Guido and Nunzio back there, but they are cheap skates. Your mecha are very nice and new and have only been slightly upgraded enough to get some basic systems into them, but the systems the banks purchased aren't what a mercenary would even consider looking at. Also your weapons on those machines are very sub standard, good for threats and protection rackets but not for a real fight, I think more was spent on the paint jobs than anything else. They are also only two mecha with no one watching their back.
"Soon even their sensors will be warning them of what they stepped into and they will be calling you. I'll give you a heads up on what their screens will be showing them. I have 1215 Shocklites at my command, 2160 Hoplites and other mecha for a total of 4860 combat ready machines and pilots. Each Clan in this faction has 15 company commanders each with 12 platoons of mecha, we assign Red Ants sentry duty. They are all honor bound and trained to fight alongside each other and watch each other's backs. We keep our mecha fully upgraded if not pretty. Although you know our weapons might not be great the other gear on our machines is the best out there.
"Your mecha will damage a lot of my machines before they are destroyed, but my machines will be repaired quickly and one of the first shots fired will kill you personally. If you want the weapons sooner than we are willing to give them up I suggest you leave and tell your boss to send a real army" The Generals smile didn't look friendly at all anymore, "do we have a better understanding of the situation now?"
"Yes," Marcus said, but the situation still didn't make sense for what he was offering them, "but why are you doing this?"
The General laughed and his smile was friendly and disarming once more, "We are mercenaries someone hired us to find out how much strain the economy your consortium created can take. Also, as I said before, we do not like suits."
Submitted by Sean Wadey # 356597