Sid & Cyrus (Part One)     - [Comm-Links](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/comm-links)
- Sid & Cyrus (Part One)

Sid & Cyrus (Part One)
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Content
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 English

 Writer’s Note: Sid & Cyrus: Part One was published originally in Jump Point 5.5.
A high-pitched screech carried across the Falling Sky as the front door slid open. None of the regulars at this run-down watering hole noticed the noise or cared. Only Sidney looked up from her post behind the bar. Still as observant and energetic as most people half her age, Sid needed but a moment to scan the young man who entered before going back to work. She’d seen enough.

The kid sidled up to the bar and eyed Vinny, sitting a few stools down. Vinny took a deep drink and kept his eyes glued to the vidscreen. When the Crashers were playing, nothing was more important to him. Definitely not some nervous kid with a wild look in his eyes.

The kid leaned toward Sid, only to pause and glance Vinny’s way again. Once absolutely certain he wasn’t listening, he muttered, “Tomyris sent me.”

Tomyris was the leader of a burgeoning and ruthless outlaw pack calling themselves the Cadejo Crew. Sid knew Tomyris through reputation only, but if this kid thought otherwise, who was she to wreck his reality? So she smiled to put him at ease then replied, “How ’bout I buy you a drink?”

“Radegast, neat . . . wait, you got Ghosts?”

“Course.” Sid grabbed the bottle of Tevarin rye white whiskey and poured his drink. The kid took the moment to eye Vinny again. His nervousness was palpable.

“This is your first run, isn’t it?”

That returned the kid’s attention to her. She set the glass before him. “Don’t worry, you’re doing great.”

The kid gulped down the white whiskey and almost spit it back out as the burn hit his throat. To his credit, he managed to swallow.

“It’s just,” the kid said as he wiped his lips on the sleeve of his worn flight suit, “well, you know. It’s been a crazy day for me.”

Sid topped him off with a bottle of bootleg moonshine, certain after the initial burn he wouldn’t notice the difference.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, it’s done.”

“It?”

“You know,” the kid leaned in even farther and lowered his voice ’till she could barely hear what he said next, “the convoy to Behistun.”

Sid’s stomach sank. Immanuelle. All she could manage in response was, “You’re sure it’s . . .”

“Yeah . . . I was there.” The kid killed his drink and glanced to the sataball game. Sid refilled his glass and resisted the urge to smash him over the head with the bottle.

“So, we good? They said you’ll handle phase two, right?” The kid asked. Sid forced a smile and nodded. The kid threw back the last shot and set down the glass. “Never did catch your name.”

“Devin.”

Sid mentally logged the name. Then said it aloud to imprint it in her mind one more time.

“You stay safe, Devin.”

The kid smiled and stumbled to the door, suddenly feeling the effect of the hooch. Sid disappeared into the office in the back of the bar. She found Talsa and said she was feeling sick. Talsa sighed sharply, then waved her off without further inquiry.

Seconds later, Sid slipped out the bar’s back door. She debated following Devin and learning what else he knew, but in the end decided against it. Right now she needed Cyrus. Quickening her pace, Sid headed home.

The constant hum of landing and launching ships filled the sky as Sid hurried through the streets of Reis. The city was abuzz with late afternoon activity, as residents rushed to complete errands before Nexus’ bluish-white sun sank over the city’s heavily fortified walls. Most avoided the streets after dark due to the surging crime rate, but Sid preferred it then. There were fewer people around to slow her down.

Sid rounded the corner occupied by Q&D Aeroservice, then merged with a scrum pushing their way through a particularly narrow part of the street. Causing the bottleneck were a cluster of shacks constructed from scrapped shipping containers. Inside lived refugees from outposts overrun by the Vucari. These survivors were the lucky ones.

The Vucari, one of Lago’s oldest outlaw packs, had grown back into power and prominence over the previous months. Led by the newly promoted Master Kraujas, they had become the biggest threat in the area once again, even overshadowing the recent nastiness that was the Cadejos. Methodically, the Vucari expanded their territory by overtaking civilian outposts. Anyone who resisted suffered from their cruelty. Anyone who relinquished all weapons and possessions was allowed to flee. Most ended up in Reis with nothing but the clothes on their backs. The crude shelters, like the ones Sid squeezed by now, were at least a step up from the broken pavement claimed by most poor souls who had to sleep on the streets.

She continued for a few blocks before ducking down an alley. The stench of Human waste slapped Sid in the face. The smell was new, a sign of worsening waste management within the city.

Sid held her breath, and carefully avoided the piles of trash and strange stains. An outbreak due to poor public sanitation was the last thing Lago needed. People were already on edge due to the housing shortage and shrinking food supplies. Sid knew that if Reis slipped any further, all civility would be shredded. She’d seen it before and she knew what would happen next.

The Vucari would take advantage of the discord and strike. Reclaiming Reis was the dream of every outlaw commander ever since the UEE forcibly reclaimed the planet in 2931. Master Kraujas knew such a conquest would establish his name in history. He also understood that civil instability was his greatest ally and that crumbling civility would only make taking the city easier.

Sid slowed at a tall fence made from corrugated metal, her eyes scanning to insure its integrity. She carefully followed the fence around the corner until it connected to the back of a two-story building. She proceeded to the front of the building and entered a rundown repair shop occupying the first floor.

A bell chimed as Sid opened the door. Behind the service counter, shelves of scrap collected dust. Sid ducked under the counter and crossed the threshold into the workroom of the shop.

Cyrus dozed in a battered chair behind a desk cluttered with mechanical parts and electronic components. Sid nudged her husband’s feet off the desk, startling him awake. A small drone fell from his lap to the floor.

Cyrus sat forward and took a second, his post-nap haze still not completely clear. Though Cyrus was still sharp and nimble, he was sometimes slow to action.

“What you doing back so early?” he asked while scooping up the dropped drone.

“What good is that bell if you don’t hear it?”

Cyrus waved off the reply as he scanned the drone for damage. He snagged a small screwdriver and made a few minor adjustments.

Sid took a deep breath, knowing this next moment might make everything she feared real. Cyrus sensed the pregnant pause and met her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“We need to check Immanuelle’s tracker.”

Cyrus took a moment to process the request before spinning in his chair and tossing the drone on his desk, all in one swift movement. He briskly typed at his terminal as spare parts rattled on his desk. He glanced up to see Sid pacing. Her shoulders hunched forward with anxiety, making her look every bit her age.

Seconds later, Cyrus began to launch a program he hadn’t opened in almost a year. It was a backdoor into the geolocation and biofeedback sensors in Immanuelle’s armor, a feature of which their daughter was not aware.

Cyrus added it after a Vucari raid had hit her convoy hauling food and first aid to settlements across Lago. She had spent a week in the hospital afterwards, one of the longest weeks of his life. Outlaws were growing more emboldened by the day, but Cyrus knew that wouldn’t stop Immanuelle. At her age, it wouldn’t have stopped him, either.

Conflicted over what he had done, Cyrus told Sid. In the ensuing argument, she both chastised and thanked him for doing it. The two agreed to access the armor’s information only if absolutely necessary. Immanuelle had been on numerous delivery runs on Lago’s contested planetside since, without incident. This was the first time they had felt compelled to check it.

Cyrus knew something was terribly wrong without even having to ask, but he couldn’t sit in silence not knowing for much longer. “What’d you hear at the bar?”

“Some kid came talking about an attack on a convoy to Behistun. He thought I was someone else, so I don’t know how much I can trust him . . .”

“. . . but . . .”

“He had that look in his eye.” She didn’t need to say more. Cyrus understood.

“Think it’s Vucari again?” he asked.

“Cadejo.”

Cyrus visibly paled. The program finally initialized. He typed a few quick commands and waited. The terminal pinged and returned results.

“Well?” wondered Sid, unable to bring herself to face the screen. Following a few seconds of excruciating silence, she turned to find Cyrus scanning data. “Is she ok?”

“Uncertain,” he replied carefully.

“What does that mean? Is that thing even working?”

“It was. Until eight hours ago. There’s been nothing since. There’s a chance —”

“Where?”

“. . . what?”

Sid crossed to the terminal, “Where’d that last signal come from?”

“North, 34 degrees . . . 26 minutes —”

“Not the coordinates.” Sid leaned across the desk and expanded the map’s visible range. The signal came from the middle of the Platean Plain, about half-way to Behistun.

“That’s Vucari territory, isn’t it? What are the Cadejo doing there?”

Sid gave it a passing thought; hitting a shipment in enemy territory violated the honor code many of these outlaw packs lived by. Then she grabbed her rifle and slammed a fresh battery in it. “I don’t know and I don’t care.”

Neither Sid nor Cyrus had the courage to vocalize their fear about what might have happened to their daughter. Instead, they simply agreed to find out for themselves.

The two spent the night gathering and prepping their old gear. They moved furniture and raised floor panels to access hidden weapon lockers built by Cyrus. The caches were strategically placed throughout their two-story building so weapons would never be too far away if outlaws or ghosts from their past arrived on their doorstep.

In their own words, Sid and Cyrus ran a small security firm before moving to Reis. The reality was that they were in-demand mercs with an impressive portfolio of missions and a notable number of enemies. It was the life they wanted until the unexpected occurred.

Immanuelle had never been part of their plan. Sid was as shocked as Cyrus to discover she was pregnant. The news floored the couple and forced them to reassess their life. To both their surprise, they realized that they liked the idea of expanding their family. Problem was, they had dodged death far too often and knew it was only a matter of time before it caught up with them. Immanuelle’s arrival was a chance to reset and escape the dangers that had become part of their everyday existence.

When Immanuelle was five they bought this modest two-story building on Reis. The previous year, the UEE had wrestled control of Nexus away from outlaw pacts that had dominated the system for centuries, so the government offered sweetheart land deals to entice new residents. Since Sid and Cyrus had never worked within the system, they figured it was an ideal place to start fresh with a minimal chance of encountering their past.

Cyrus converted the building’s ground floor into a repair shop. His knack for fixing things proved invaluable, as outlaw attacks on supply shipments were common. Sid helped run the repair shop and raise Immanuelle, but felt restless until she wandered into the Falling Sky bar. There, a bit of the buzz came back. She found a piece of her old life among the mercs who frequented it. So, she taught herself to make a killer Terra Tornado, convinced Talsa to hire her, and lived vicariously through the regulars’ stories of Lago’s untamed planetside.

All the while, Immanuelle remained none the wiser to her parent’s previous life. It’s not that Sid and Cyrus hid their past from her. They merely were selective with what they said, both hoping that the gene of self-endangerment had skipped a generation.

Still, it didn’t take long for their daughter’s sense of adventure to surface. Before turning ten, Immanuelle had explored every last nook, cranny and alley in their neighborhood. As a teenager, she often got in trouble for sneaking into the Falling Sky when Sid was off duty to hear the outrageous and often grisly tales its patrons told. It was obvious to Sid and Cyrus that their daughter was cut from the same cloth as her parents.

Cyrus checked ammo clips one by one before sliding them into his pack, in an effort to get his emotions in check and focus on the job at hand. In recent months, he had only heard passing mentions of Tomyris and the Cadejo Crew, but each one had sent a shiver down his spine. Unlike the Vucari, no one attacked by the Cadejo made it back to Reis. Rumors swirled that the Cadejos preferred to take people alive for use in some sinister ritual. Cyrus didn’t quite believe the tales, but had seen enough strange stuff in his day to not completely discount them. At least if true, he reasoned with himself, Immanuelle might have a better chance of still being alive now.

Cyrus slung a duffel bag filled with gear and guns over his shoulder and carefully carried it downstairs. He dropped the bag behind the counter with a thud. He drew a deep breath, surprised by how winded he was, then stepped into the repair shop.

“First light in forty-five,” he called to Sid. “I’ll bring the buggy ’round back.”

“I’ll come help in a few.”

Sid stood at a workbench making adjustments to her energy rifle while wearing heavy armor sans helmet, her lucky bandanna holding back her hair. The sight gave Cyrus pause. She’d always worn light armor in their merc days, preferring to be fleet of foot over aggressively armored.

A few years ago, she returned from a shift at the Falling Sky wearing the heavy armor. She scared Immanuelle half to death by confidently striding behind the repair shop counter before identifying herself. Sid claimed someone gave her a good deal on it, and asked Cyrus to work his magic. She said it might come in handy some day. He never expected this to be it.

“Going with the heavy, huh? You have a chance to field test it?”

“Seems as good a time as any,” she replied.

“The effect on your speed and stamina might surp—”

“Hey . . . I thought you were going to get the quad.”

Sid took her eyes off her gun to shoot Cyrus a look. Her face almost appeared to float amidst the massive armor around her.

“Fine, but I need to tell you two quick things. One, and I’m just being honest here, you look a little ridiculous,” he said as he headed towards the garage. Sid’s eyes flared with intensity. “And two, when you put on your helmet, apply the setting labeled with your name. I’ve already programmed in your preferences.”

A small smile crept across Sid’s face, the first one Cyrus had seen since she arrived home. Before she could respond, Cyrus was out the door. The smile was all the reassurance he needed to know his world wouldn’t completely crumble if this mission ended in the way neither of them dared say.

Reis sat on Sid & Cyrus’ six half an hour later. The two shared a look exiting the city’s eastern security checkpoint. This was the first time the two had been out on an assignment since Immanuelle was born.

As they crossed the Mycale Valley, towering gray mountains loomed on the horizon. Being backlit by the slowly rising sun only made them more ominous and imposing. As Sid drove, Cyrus calculated several potential routes to their daughter’s last known location. Transposing it to the map, he saw that to reach the Platean Plain they would have to navigate one of the many passes that cut through the Harran Mountains. He scanned the list, unsure which one would be the safest.

“The most direct route is through the Datis Pass,” he noted.

“Feels like someone at the bar is always talking about how that pass is infested with outlaws. Any other options?”

Immanuel had once admitted that crossing this range was often the most harrowing part of her journey.

“How about the Sargon Pass? That an option? Vinny swears it’s the safest one heading east.”

“You trust the guy who also swears that asteroid in Nemo actually looks like a space whale?”

“He can’t be wrong all the time. Just check, ok?”

Cyrus smiled. The lightness of their exchange evaporated as the intention of their mission again came front and center. He scanned the list of potential routes until finding one through the Sargon Pass.

“It’ll add at least an hour to the trip.” He selected the route to examine it in detail. “Wait . . . Remember that trip Immanuelle and I took together say about five, six years ago?”

“You two still laugh about it,” Sid sighed softly.

“Really wish you hadn’t gotten sick the night before we left.”

“Me too.”

Silence sat between them.

“Anyways, I just realized we took the Sargon Pass on that trip.”

“So at least one of us is familiar with it.”

Cyrus nodded. Sid stepped on the accelerator and steered the quad more southward towards the pass. The buggy’s suspension bucked under the rough terrain.

Ahead the sun’s rays licked the mountain peaks, finally providing the range some depth and definition. Cyrus took a second to admire the view, then returned to worrying about getting through the pass safely.

“Why’d you volunteer us for this shite gig again?” Dmitri drew his thin coat closer to insulate against the cold seeping from the rocks that composed his sniper perch.

“Stay off comms,” Charlie barked back.

A chilly wind whistled through the Sargon Pass. A shiver worked its way down Dmitri’s spine. When it finally fled, he looked through his sniper rifle scope and scanned the mouth of the pass, which was still shrouded in dark, early morning shadows.

He defiantly spoke into his comm again, “This pass is too narrow for any big fish to take. You’re not gonna impress your new friends by catching any of the minnows that come through here.”

“The hell I just say?”

For an outlaw, Charlie certainly was a stickler for the rules, a trait that had only intensified after the two decided to crew with the Vucari. Dmitri figured it’d be fun to run with the pack that had come to dominate so much territory. Meanwhile, Charlie quickly became enamored with the Vucari’s master plan to wrest control of Reis away from the UEE. Dmitri merely looked forward to the looting.

Despite their motivational differences, Dmitri and Charlie were now hunkered down on opposite sides of the Sargon Pass, hoping to ambush anyone coming from Reis. Dmitri checked the time, and wondered how much longer it would take the sun to illuminate the mouth of the pass and more importantly, provide him a bit of warmth.

Eventually, the sweet lure of a stim felt like his only salvation. Dmitri left the sniper rifle in position and slid down from his perch so Charlie wouldn’t see the vapor. He removed his helmet and plucked a pack of Kings out of his pocket. He savored the flavor as the first pull rushed to his head. It almost made everything all right.

Suddenly, a faint hum filled the air. The sound was subtle but growing closer. Dmitri scanned the sky to discover a small drone hovering no more than ten meters away. Some bugger was spying on him.

Dmitri drew his pistol. His free hand frantically felt for his helmet but couldn’t find it. He turned to look for it, then everything suddenly went black.

Distracted by the drone, he never saw Sid slip in close. She lowered her rifle then hit a few buttons on her mobi. The drone zipped to her location and landed safely. After Sid checked the kid’s pulse, she bound his hands and then searched him out of habit, finding only a half pack of Kings. He wore a patchwork of clothes and cheap armor plastered with the Vucari insignia.

Climbing up, Sid snagged the sniper rifle from its perch and hunkered behind a rock formation while inspecting it. The serial number had been filed off and the Vucari emblem crudely etched into its stock. So, the Vucari distributed meager armor but decent weapons. She made a mental note.

Confident the Vucari hadn’t assigned a single guy to guard the pass, Sid quickly scanned the other side through the sniper rifle scope. If anyone else was around, she couldn’t see them. There had to be at least one, maybe two associates staked out elsewhere. Until cleared, driving any closer could be dangerous.

“We’ve got company. Subdued one of them. Going to flush out anyone left with the drone.”

“I’ll come help.”

“Hold position. Don’t know what we’re up against yet.”

Sid launched the drone to survey the pass from above. It looked clear at first glance. Then she spotted a strange shape between two big boulders. She slowly lowered the drone over the location and saw a parked Dragonfly. That thing only seated two, so that must mean there was one outlaw left.

Suddenly, the drone’s video feed died. A gunshot echoed through the pass as the drone fell from the sky. Sid scrambled to spot the shot’s origin but it was too late. Impressive — the shooter needed only a single round to hit it.

A strange crackling sound startled Sid. She spun, weapon raised, to find no one there. She exhaled, relieved, then tracked the sound to the outlaw’s helmet lying on the ground below. It wouldn’t be long before his compatriot realized this position has been compromised. She had to move soon.

Sid slowly lifted her head with the sniper rifle at the ready. Gunfire erupted, spraying bullets all around her. She quickly ducked back to cover, but at least had a bead on the assailant’s location.

“That you firing?” Cyrus’ voice crackled in Sid’s ear.

“It will be . . . in a few seconds,” she responded while adjusting her spot behind the rock.

“I’m on my way.”

“I can handle it.” Sid raised up with the sniper rifle trained on the spot where she had seen the muzzle flash. No one was there. More gunshots peppered her location from a slightly different angle. She hit the deck before gauging exactly where they came from.

“You get him?”

“Still wasn’t me.”

“That’s it.”

“I just need—”

“Something to draw that fire elsewhere.”

Cyrus was right. Plus, it had only been small arms fire. That wouldn’t do too much damage to their ride.

“Fine. Show yourself but don’t venture too far up. For all we know, the entrance could be lined with explosives.”

Hidden not far from the pass, Cyrus stepped on the accelerator. The buggy lurched forward. It felt a bit jumpy to him, and he made a mental note to look at it once home.

Meanwhile, Sid circled to a new firing position further up, hoping her new vantage point combined with Cyrus’ arrival would end this encounter.

“Just cresting the pass,” Cyrus announced.

Sid readied her weapon and peered over a rocky embankment toward the other side, waiting for this slippery bastard to show himself again. The vehicle’s rumble echoed through the canyon, announcing its arrival. Sid kept scanning with her finger on the trigger.

A sudden movement drew her attention. She focused on the location then paused. Something didn’t look quite right. It took her a moment to realize what she was seeing. The outlaw had a massive weapon hoisted on his shoulder and aimed at the buggy.

“Rocket launcher!” Sid cried over comms.

She squeezed off a series of shots at the outlaw and saw him stagger. His movement was exaggerated by the massive weapon somehow still on his shoulder. She drew a deep breath and fired off more shots while exhaling. The outlaw finally dropped out of sight.

A moment later, an explosion erupted from the place he had fallen. Sid felt the mountainside shake and heard the distinct rumble of rocks and boulders rolling downhill. The rock formation facing where he had fallen was blasted to bits.

Moments earlier, when Cyrus heard Sid’s warning, he instinctively slammed on the accelerator, concerned that the rocket launcher might be pointed in her direction. The next thing he knew, a boom echoed through the canyon. By the time he realized what was happening, it was unavoidable.

Cyrus saw what looked like a tidal wave of rubble roaring toward him. He yanked the steering wheel hard left and the vehicle spun about ninety degrees, exposing the passenger’s side, just as an avalanche slammed into it. The impact knocked the vehicle’s wheels off the ground and blew it downhill. Once at the bottom of the pass, it continued rolling until it lost all momentum.

Sid heard the impact and repeated crunch of rock on metal. When the sound mercifully came to a stop, she trained the sniper rifle on the dissipating dust cloud at the bottom of the pass. The vehicle had ended up on its roof, battered and bruised but in one piece. From this angle, though, she couldn’t see inside the cab.

“Cyrus! Can you hear me?” she cried over comms.

Before receiving an answer, she began to run downhill. Sid felt like life was moving in slow motion. Soon she struggled for breath, the heavy armor and heart-stopping anxiety hitting her hard. She stopped to gather herself, then glanced up and across the pass. She sighed with relief at the sight of the Dragonfly still safely tucked between two boulders, its position just above the blast.

Sid commandeered the Dragonfly and sped to the crash site. Cyrus was motionless inside the upside-down vehicle. Still secured to the seat by the safety restraints, his arms limply dangled past his head. Sid grabbed his closest arm, pulled out a MedPen, and stabbed it where his undersuit was exposed.

Cyrus came back from the brink. His body filled with adrenaline and confusion as to why everything was inverted. He turned to see Sid. Slowly, the preceding series of events came back.

“You get him?”

Sid nodded her head. “You ready?”

He nodded in return. She carefully cut away the safety restraints and helped him out of the cab. Finally freed, Cyrus slowly sat up, mind and body still not in sync. Sid felt bad for thinking it, but he looked just like he did when she caught him napping in the shop.

“Hey . . . I’m gonna see if I can find where the med kit wound up.”

“I’ll help.”

“You sure?”

Cyrus sat forward and stood up. “Rally back here in five?”

She gave him a thumbs up. Cyrus wanted to smile but wasn’t sure if he could. He still felt like not all his wires were connected.

Sid climbed on the Dragonfly and carefully followed the trail of destruction, searching for anything worth keeping. Cyrus slowly circled the buggy but found nothing. It at least afforded him the chance to get his legs under him. Sid returned faster than expected.

“No luck. You probably flung it halfway home.” Sid scanned the horizon. “If we want to expand the search radius, let’s do it fast. No guarantee the previous owner of this bike didn’t inform the entire Vucari clan that we’re trying to get through that pass.”

“I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Sid eyed him, uncertain.

“The most important thing is to clear the pass before reinforcements arrive.” Cyrus pulled his custom sniper rifle from its attachment point. His heart dropped. The barrel was battered and slightly bent.

“Here . . .”

Cyrus looked up as Sid tossed him the Vucari sniper rifle. He gave it a once over. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t his.

He jumped on the Dragonfly. Cyrus’ back came to rest against Sid’s. He exhaled, laid the sniper rifle across his lap and then strapped in. Sure he was safely aboard, Sid opened up the throttles to max and concentrated on putting distance between themselves and the ambush site.

Sid and Cyrus faced no more resistance leaving the Sargon Pass. They raced onto the Platean Plain and were blinded by the morning sun. At various points across the horizon, the land just vanished. These gaps indicated geographical scars that were once strip mines, but were now more and more often hiding outlaw encampments. Sid made sure to give the gaps a wide berth.

“Anyone following us?”

“Not that I can see.” Cyrus scanned for dust clouds or other obvious signs.

“Good. We’re almost there.”

An unnatural jumble of shapes was silhouetted against the horizon. That must be it. Sid quickly glanced around. She could see for kilometers in all directions. Interesting spot to ambush a convoy.

Sid stopped at some distance from the wreckage. Cyrus eyed it with the sniper rifle and saw no one. The scanner on the Dragonfly said the same.

They approached, then circled the ambush site. Several trucks sat in various states of ruin. One was burnt to a crisp, barely more than a frame. Others were thoroughly riddled with bullet holes and laser blasts. One lay on its side.

Sid stopped the Dragonfly at the center of the convoy’s line. The two dismounted and glanced in each direction. Not a single body was anywhere to be seen.

“Left or right?”

“I’ll take left,” replied Cyrus. He headed off in his assigned direction. The closest vehicle had been incinerated by something. There was little left besides its frame and ash. Cyrus still gave it a good once over.

The utter destruction had to be the work of the Cadejo Crew. The Vucari would’ve been more careful so they could use this equipment for their own purposes. The Cadejo were clearly challenging Vucari for control of the area. Such a gang war would only further destabilize this region and make getting supplies to Behistun that much more dangerous.

Cyrus was halfway to the next vehicle when Sid commed him.

“Cyrus, on me.”

He turned and hurried in her direction. Sid stood at the back of a mostly intact truck, its rear doors open wide. Where supplies had once been stored now sat a pile of battered armor. In the middle was the chest piece from Immanuelle’s armor. With the number of times he had repaired it over the years, Cyrus would recognize it anywhere.

After scanning for explosives, they pulled Immanuelle’s armor out of the pile and inspected it. He asked, “You believe the rumors about the Cadejos taking people alive?”

Sid slowly walked away from the vehicle, suddenly drawn elsewhere.

“I don’t believe most of what I hear, but I’m not going to let that stop me.”

Cyrus looked up to see Sid staring off into the distance. He joined her and then saw it. Tire tracks leading north.

Sid and Cyrus locked eyes. Nothing else needed to be said besides, “I’ll go get the bike.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

 Anmerkung des Autors: Sid & Cyrus: Teil 1 wurde ursprünglich in Jump Point 5.5 veröffentlicht.
Ein hohes Kreischen schallte durch das Falling Sky, als die Eingangstür aufglitt. Keiner der Stammgäste in dieser heruntergekommenen Kneipe bemerkte das Geräusch oder kümmerte sich darum. Nur Sidney blickte von ihrem Posten hinter der Bar auf. Immer noch so aufmerksam und energisch wie die meisten Menschen, die halb so alt sind wie sie, brauchte Sid nur einen Moment, um den jungen Mann zu mustern, der eintrat, bevor sie sich wieder an die Arbeit machte. Sie hatte genug gesehen.

Der Junge schlich sich an die Bar und beäugte Vinny, der sich ein paar Hocker weiter setzte. Vinny nahm einen tiefen Schluck und hielt seine Augen auf den Bildschirm geheftet. Wenn die Crashers spielten, war nichts wichtiger für ihn. Definitiv nicht irgendein nervöses Kind mit einem wilden Blick in den Augen.

Der Junge lehnte sich zu Sid, nur um innezuhalten und wieder in Vinnys Richtung zu blicken. Als er absolut sicher war, dass er nicht zuhörte, murmelte er: "Tomyris hat mich geschickt."

Tomyris war der Anführer eines aufstrebenden und skrupellosen Verbrecherpacks, das sich selbst die Cadejo Crew nannte. Sid kannte Tomyris nur vom Hörensagen, aber wenn dieser Junge etwas anderes dachte, wer war sie, um seine Realität zu zerstören? Also lächelte sie, um ihn zu beruhigen, und antwortete: "Wie wär's, wenn ich dir einen Drink spendiere?"

"Radegast, pur ... warte, du hast Ghosts?"

"Natürlich." Sid schnappte sich die Flasche Tevarin Rye White Whiskey und schenkte sich den Drink ein. Der Junge nutzte den Moment, um Vinny erneut zu mustern. Seine Nervosität war mit Händen zu greifen.

"Das ist deine erste Fahrt, nicht wahr?"

Das lenkte die Aufmerksamkeit des Jungen wieder auf sie. Sie stellte das Glas vor ihm ab. "Keine Sorge, du machst das toll."

Der Junge schluckte den weißen Whiskey hinunter und spuckte ihn fast wieder aus, als das Brennen seine Kehle traf. Zu seiner Ehre schaffte er es, zu schlucken.

"Es ist nur", sagte der Junge, während er sich die Lippen am Ärmel seines abgetragenen Fluganzugs abwischte, "na ja, Sie wissen schon. Es war ein verrückter Tag für mich."

Sid schenkte ihm eine Flasche geschmuggelten Mondschein ein, sicher, dass er nach dem ersten Brennen den Unterschied nicht mehr bemerken würde.

"Erzählen Sie mir davon."

"Nun, es ist vollbracht."

"Es?"

"Wissen Sie", der Junge lehnte sich noch weiter vor und senkte seine Stimme, bis sie kaum noch hören konnte, was er als nächstes sagte, "der Konvoi nach Behistun."

Sid's Magen sank. Immanuelle. Alles, was sie als Antwort zustande brachte, war: "Sie sind sicher, dass es ..."

"Ja . . . Ich war dabei." Der Junge kippte seinen Drink und blickte zum Sataball-Spiel. Sid füllte sein Glas nach und widerstand dem Drang, ihm die Flasche über den Kopf zu ziehen.

"Also, sind wir gut? Sie sagten, Sie übernehmen Phase zwei, richtig?" Fragte der Junge. Sid zwang sich zu einem Lächeln und nickte. Der Junge kippte den letzten Shot zurück und stellte das Glas ab. "Ich habe deinen Namen nie verstanden."

"Devin."

Sid notierte sich den Namen im Geiste. Dann sagte er ihn laut, um ihn sich ein weiteres Mal einzuprägen.

"Pass gut auf dich auf, Devin."

Der Junge lächelte und stolperte zur Tür, plötzlich spürte er die Wirkung des Alkohols. Sid verschwand in dem Büro im hinteren Teil der Bar. Sie fand Talsa und sagte, sie fühle sich krank. Talsa seufzte scharf, dann winkte sie ohne weitere Nachfrage ab.

Sekunden später schlüpfte Sid durch die Hintertür der Bar hinaus. Sie überlegte, ob sie Devin folgen und herausfinden sollte, was er sonst noch wusste, entschied sich aber schließlich dagegen. Im Moment brauchte sie Cyrus. Sie beschleunigte ihr Tempo und machte sich auf den Heimweg.

Das ständige Brummen der landenden und startenden Schiffe erfüllte den Himmel, als Sid durch die Straßen von Reis eilte. In der Stadt herrschte am späten Nachmittag reges Treiben, da die Bewohner sich beeilten, ihre Besorgungen zu erledigen, bevor die bläulich-weiße Sonne von Nexus über den stark befestigten Mauern der Stadt unterging. Die meisten mieden die Straßen nach Einbruch der Dunkelheit aufgrund der ansteigenden Kriminalitätsrate, aber Sid zog es dann vor. Es waren weniger Leute da, die sie aufhalten konnten.

Sid bog um die Ecke, die von Q&D Aeroservice besetzt war, und mischte sich dann in ein Gedränge, das sich durch einen besonders engen Teil der Straße drängte. Die Ursache für den Engpass war eine Ansammlung von Hütten, die aus ausrangierten Schiffscontainern gebaut waren. Darin lebten Flüchtlinge von Außenposten, die von den Vucari überrannt worden waren. Diese Überlebenden waren die Glücklichen.

Die Vucari, eines der ältesten Verbrecherpacks in Lago, waren in den letzten Monaten wieder zu Macht und Ansehen gelangt. Angeführt von dem neu beförderten Meister Kraujas waren sie wieder zur größten Bedrohung in der Gegend geworden und stellten sogar die Cadejos in den Schatten. Methodisch dehnten die Vucari ihr Gebiet aus, indem sie zivile Außenposten übernahmen. Jeder, der sich wehrte, litt unter ihrer Grausamkeit. Jeder, der alle Waffen und Besitztümer aufgab, durfte fliehen. Die meisten landeten in Reis mit nichts als den Kleidern auf dem Rücken. Die kruden Unterkünfte, wie die, in die sich Sid jetzt quetschte, waren zumindest ein Fortschritt gegenüber dem kaputten Pflaster, das die meisten armen Seelen, die auf der Straße schlafen mussten, beanspruchten.

Sie ging ein paar Blocks weiter, bevor sie sich in eine Gasse duckte. Der Gestank von menschlichen Abfällen schlug Sid ins Gesicht. Der Geruch war neu, ein Zeichen für die sich verschlechternde Abfallwirtschaft in der Stadt.

Sid hielt den Atem an und wich vorsichtig den Müllhaufen und seltsamen Flecken aus. Ein Ausbruch aufgrund schlechter öffentlicher Hygiene war das Letzte, was Lago brauchte. Die Menschen waren aufgrund der Wohnungsknappheit und der schrumpfenden Lebensmittelvorräte bereits angespannt. Sid wusste, dass, wenn Reis noch weiter abrutschte, alle Zivilisationen zerfetzt werden würden. Sie hatte es schon einmal gesehen und sie wusste, was als nächstes passieren würde.

Die Vucari würden die Uneinigkeit ausnutzen und zuschlagen. Reis zurückzuerobern war der Traum eines jeden Kommandanten der Gesetzlosen, seit die UEE den Planeten im Jahr 2931 gewaltsam zurückerobert hatte. Meister Kraujas wusste, dass eine solche Eroberung seinen Namen in der Geschichte etablieren würde. Er wusste auch, dass die zivile Instabilität sein größter Verbündeter war und dass das Zerbröckeln der Zivilisation die Einnahme der Stadt nur erleichtern würde.

Sid verlangsamte an einem hohen Zaun aus Wellblech, ihre Augen scannten, um sich seiner Unversehrtheit zu versichern. Sie folgte dem Zaun vorsichtig um die Ecke, bis er mit der Rückseite eines zweistöckigen Gebäudes verbunden war. Sie ging zur Vorderseite des Gebäudes und betrat eine heruntergekommene Reparaturwerkstatt, die den ersten Stock belegte.

Eine Glocke läutete, als Sid die Tür öffnete. Hinter dem Serviceschalter sammelten Regale mit Schrott Staub. Sid duckte sich unter den Tresen und überquerte die Schwelle in den Arbeitsraum der Werkstatt.

Cyrus döste in einem ramponierten Stuhl hinter einem mit mechanischen Teilen und elektronischen Komponenten vollgestopften Schreibtisch. Sid stupste die Füße ihres Mannes vom Schreibtisch, wodurch er wach wurde. Eine kleine Drohne fiel von seinem Schoß auf den Boden.

Cyrus setzte sich nach vorne und nahm sich eine Sekunde Zeit, sein Dunst nach dem Nickerchen war immer noch nicht ganz klar. Obwohl Cyrus immer noch scharfsinnig und flink war, war er manchmal langsam in Aktion.

"Was machst du schon so früh?", fragte er, während er die heruntergefallene Drohne aufhob.

"Wozu ist die Glocke gut, wenn man sie nicht hört?"

Cyrus winkte die Antwort ab, während er die Drohne auf Schäden untersuchte. Er schnappte sich einen kleinen Schraubenzieher und nahm ein paar kleine Anpassungen vor.

Sid holte tief Luft, denn sie wusste, dass dieser nächste Moment alles wahr machen könnte, was sie befürchtete. Cyrus spürte die schwangere Pause und begegnete ihren Augen.

"Was ist los?"

"Wir müssen den Tracker von Immanuelle überprüfen."

Cyrus brauchte einen Moment, um die Anfrage zu verarbeiten, bevor er sich in seinem Stuhl drehte und die Drohne auf seinen Schreibtisch warf, alles in einer einzigen schnellen Bewegung. Er tippte zügig auf seinem Terminal, während die Ersatzteile auf seinem Schreibtisch klapperten. Er blickte auf und sah Sid auf und ab gehen. Ihre Schultern waren vor Unruhe nach vorne gebeugt und ließen sie sehr alt aussehen.

Sekunden später begann Cyrus, ein Programm zu starten, das er seit fast einem Jahr nicht mehr geöffnet hatte. Es war eine Hintertür zu den Geolokalisierungs- und Biofeedback-Sensoren in Immanuelles Rüstung, eine Funktion, von der ihre Tochter nichts wusste.

Cyrus fügte sie hinzu, nachdem ein Vucari-Angriff ihren Konvoi getroffen hatte, der Lebensmittel und erste Hilfe zu Siedlungen in ganz Lago transportierte. Sie hatte danach eine Woche im Krankenhaus verbracht, eine der längsten Wochen seines Lebens. Die Gesetzlosen wurden von Tag zu Tag ermutigter, aber Cyrus wusste, dass das Immanuelle nicht aufhalten würde. In ihrem Alter hätte es ihn auch nicht aufgehalten.

Verwirrt über das, was er getan hatte, erzählte Cyrus es Sid. In dem darauf folgenden Streit schimpfte sie mit ihm und dankte ihm, dass er es getan hatte. Die beiden einigten sich darauf, nur dann auf die Informationen des Panzers zuzugreifen, wenn es unbedingt nötig war. Immanuelle hatte seitdem zahlreiche Lieferfahrten auf Lagos umkämpften Planeten unternommen, ohne Zwischenfälle. Dies war das erste Mal, dass sie sich gezwungen sahen, es zu überprüfen.

Cyrus wusste, dass etwas furchtbar falsch war, ohne überhaupt fragen zu müssen, aber er konnte nicht länger schweigend dasitzen und nichts wissen. "Was haben Sie in der Bar gehört?"

"Ein Junge kam und erzählte von einem Angriff auf einen Konvoi nach Behistun. Er dachte, ich sei jemand anderes, also weiß ich nicht, wie sehr ich ihm vertrauen kann ..."

“. . . . aber . . ."

"Er hatte diesen Blick in seinen Augen." Mehr brauchte sie nicht zu sagen. Cyrus verstand.

"Denken Sie, es ist wieder Vucari?", fragte er.

"Cadejo."

Cyrus wurde sichtlich blass. Das Programm initialisierte sich schließlich. Er tippte ein paar schnelle Befehle und wartete. Das Terminal pingte und gab Ergebnisse zurück.

"Und?", fragte sich Sid, die sich nicht dazu durchringen konnte, auf den Bildschirm zu schauen. Nach ein paar Sekunden quälender Stille drehte sie sich um und fand Cyrus, der die Daten scannte. "Ist sie in Ordnung?"

"Ungewiss", antwortete er vorsichtig.

"Was soll das heißen? Funktioniert das Ding überhaupt?"

"Das hat es. Bis vor acht Stunden. Seitdem tut sich nichts mehr. Es besteht die Möglichkeit, dass -"

"Wo?"

“. . was?"

Sid ging zum Terminal hinüber, "Woher kam das letzte Signal?"

"Norden, 34 Grad . . 26 Minuten -"

"Nicht die Koordinaten." Sid lehnte sich über den Schreibtisch und erweiterte den sichtbaren Bereich der Karte. Das Signal kam aus der Mitte der Platean-Ebene, etwa auf halbem Weg nach Behistun.

"Das ist Vucari-Territorium, nicht wahr? Was machen die Cadejo dort?"

Sid dachte kurz darüber nach; eine Lieferung in feindlichem Gebiet zu überfallen, verstieß gegen den Ehrenkodex, nach dem viele dieser gesetzlosen Rudel lebten. Dann schnappte sie sich ihr Gewehr und legte eine frische Batterie ein. "Ich weiß es nicht und es ist mir egal."

Weder Sid noch Cyrus hatten den Mut, ihre Angst darüber auszusprechen, was mit ihrer Tochter geschehen sein könnte. Stattdessen beschlossen sie einfach, es selbst herauszufinden.

Die beiden verbrachten die Nacht damit, ihre alten Sachen zusammenzusuchen und vorzubereiten. Sie verschoben Möbel und hoben Bodenplatten an, um an die von Cyrus gebauten versteckten Waffenverstecke zu gelangen. Die Verstecke waren strategisch in ihrem zweistöckigen Gebäude platziert, so dass die Waffen nie zu weit weg sein würden, falls Gesetzlose oder Geister aus ihrer Vergangenheit vor ihrer Haustür auftauchten.

Nach ihren eigenen Worten führten Sid und Cyrus eine kleine Sicherheitsfirma, bevor sie nach Reis zogen. Die Realität war, dass sie gefragte Söldner mit einem beeindruckenden Portfolio an Missionen und einer beachtlichen Anzahl von Feinden waren. Es war das Leben, das sie wollten, bis das Unerwartete geschah.

Immanuelle war nie Teil ihres Plans gewesen. Sid war genauso schockiert wie Cyrus, als er entdeckte, dass sie schwanger war. Die Nachricht erschütterte das Paar und zwang sie, ihr Leben neu zu überdenken. Zu ihrer beider Überraschung stellten sie fest, dass ihnen die Idee gefiel, ihre Familie zu erweitern. Das Problem war, dass sie dem Tod schon viel zu oft ausgewichen waren und wussten, dass es nur eine Frage der Zeit war, bis er sie einholte. Immanuelles Ankunft war eine Chance, neu anzufangen und den Gefahren zu entkommen, die Teil ihrer täglichen Existenz geworden waren.

Als Immanuelle fünf Jahre alt war, kauften sie dieses bescheidene zweistöckige Gebäude auf Reis. Im Jahr zuvor hatte die UEE den gesetzlosen Pakten, die das System jahrhundertelang beherrscht hatten, die Kontrolle über Nexus entrissen, so dass die Regierung mit günstigen Grundstücksangeboten neue Bewohner anlocken konnte. Da Sid und Cyrus nie innerhalb des Systems gearbeitet hatten, dachten sie sich, dass dies ein idealer Ort sei, um neu anzufangen, mit einer minimalen Chance, mit ihrer Vergangenheit in Berührung zu kommen.

Cyrus baute das Erdgeschoss des Gebäudes in eine Reparaturwerkstatt um. Seine Begabung, Dinge zu reparieren, erwies sich als unschätzbar, da Angriffe von Gesetzlosen auf Versorgungslieferungen an der Tagesordnung waren. Sid half, die Reparaturwerkstatt zu führen und Immanuelle aufzuziehen, fühlte sich aber unruhig, bis sie in die Bar Falling Sky ging. Dort kam ein bisschen von dem Schwung zurück. Sie fand ein Stück ihres alten Lebens unter den Söldnern, die dort verkehrten. Also brachte sie sich selbst bei, einen mörderischen Terra Tornado zu bauen, überzeugte Talsa, sie einzustellen, und lebte stellvertretend durch die Geschichten der Stammgäste von Lagos ungezähmter Planetenseite.

Die ganze Zeit über wusste Immanuelle nichts von dem früheren Leben ihrer Eltern. Es ist nicht so, dass Sid und Cyrus ihre Vergangenheit vor ihr verbargen. Sie waren lediglich wählerisch mit dem, was sie sagten, beide in der Hoffnung, dass das Gen der Selbstgefährdung eine Generation übersprungen hatte.

Dennoch dauerte es nicht lange, bis der Abenteuersinn ihrer Tochter zum Vorschein kam. Bevor sie zehn Jahre alt wurde, hatte Immanuelle jeden Winkel und jede Gasse in ihrer Nachbarschaft erkundet. Als Teenager bekam sie oft Ärger, weil sie sich in den "Falling Sky" schlich, wenn Sid nicht im Dienst war, um die ungeheuerlichen und oft grausamen Geschichten zu hören, die die Gäste erzählten. Es war für Sid und Cyrus offensichtlich, dass ihre Tochter aus dem gleichen Holz geschnitzt war wie ihre Eltern.

Cyrus überprüfte die Munitionsclips einen nach dem anderen, bevor er sie in seinen Rucksack schob, um seine Emotionen in den Griff zu bekommen und sich auf die anstehende Arbeit zu konzentrieren. In den letzten Monaten hatte er nur beiläufige Erwähnungen von Tomyris und der Cadejo-Crew gehört, aber jede davon hatte ihm einen Schauer über den Rücken gejagt. Anders als die Vucari schaffte es niemand, der von den Cadejo angegriffen wurde, zurück nach Reis. Es kursierten Gerüchte, dass die Cadejos es vorzogen, Menschen lebend zu fangen, um sie für ein finsteres Ritual zu verwenden. Cyrus glaubte die Geschichten nicht ganz, aber er hatte in seinem Leben schon genug seltsame Dinge gesehen, um sie nicht völlig auszuschließen. Wenn es wahr ist, so dachte er bei sich, hätte Immanuelle zumindest eine bessere Chance, noch am Leben zu sein.

Cyrus warf sich einen Seesack, gefüllt mit Ausrüstung und Waffen, über die Schulter und trug ihn vorsichtig die Treppe hinunter. Er ließ die Tasche mit einem Aufprall hinter dem Tresen fallen. Er holte tief Luft und war überrascht, wie erschöpft er war, dann trat er in die Werkstatt.

"Erstes Licht in fünfundvierzig", rief er zu Sid. "Ich bringe den Buggy nach hinten."

"Ich komme gleich und helfe."

Sid stand an einer Werkbank und nahm Einstellungen an ihrem Energiegewehr vor, während sie eine schwere Rüstung ohne Helm trug und ihr Glücksbandana ihr Haar zurückhielt. Der Anblick ließ Cyrus innehalten. In ihren Söldnertagen hatte sie immer leichte Rüstungen getragen, da sie es vorzog, flink zu sein, anstatt aggressiv gepanzert.

Vor ein paar Jahren kam sie von einer Schicht im Falling Sky zurück und trug die schwere Rüstung. Sie erschreckte Immanuelle halb zu Tode, indem sie selbstbewusst hinter den Schalter der Werkstatt schritt, bevor sie sich zu erkennen gab. Sid behauptete, jemand habe ihr ein gutes Angebot gemacht, und bat Cyrus, seinen Zauber anzuwenden. Sie sagte, es könnte sich eines Tages als nützlich erweisen. Er hätte nie erwartet, dass dies der Fall sein würde.

"Du gehst mit dem Schwergewicht, was? Hatten Sie die Möglichkeit, es im Feld zu testen?"

"Scheint ein so guter Zeitpunkt wie jeder andere zu sein", antwortete sie.

"Der Effekt auf Ihre Geschwindigkeit und Ausdauer könnte Sie überraschen..."

"Hey . . . Ich dachte, du wolltest das Quad holen."

Sid nahm ihre Augen von ihrer Waffe, um Cyrus einen Blick zuzuwerfen. Ihr Gesicht schien fast zu schweben inmitten der massiven Rüstung um sie herum.

"Gut, aber ich muss Ihnen schnell zwei Dinge sagen. Erstens, und da bin ich ganz ehrlich, sehen Sie ein wenig lächerlich aus", sagte er, während er auf die Garage zuging. Sids Augen flackerten vor Intensität. "Und zweitens, wenn Sie Ihren Helm aufsetzen, verwenden Sie die Einstellung, die mit Ihrem Namen beschriftet ist. Ich habe Ihre Vorlieben bereits einprogrammiert."

Ein kleines Lächeln kroch über Sids Gesicht, das erste, das Cyrus seit ihrer Ankunft zu Hause gesehen hatte. Bevor sie antworten konnte, war Cyrus schon zur Tür hinaus. Das Lächeln war die einzige Beruhigung, die er brauchte, um zu wissen, dass seine Welt nicht komplett zusammenbrechen würde, wenn diese Mission auf eine Weise endete, die keiner von ihnen zu sagen wagte.

Reis saß eine halbe Stunde später auf Sid & Cyrus' Platz. Die beiden tauschten einen Blick aus, als sie den östlichen Sicherheitskontrollpunkt der Stadt verließen. Dies war das erste Mal, dass die beiden seit der Geburt von Immanuelle auf einem Auftrag unterwegs waren.

Als sie das Mycale-Tal durchquerten, zeichneten sich am Horizont hoch aufragende graue Berge ab. Das Gegenlicht der langsam aufgehenden Sonne machte sie nur noch bedrohlicher und imposanter. Während Sid fuhr, berechnete Cyrus mehrere mögliche Routen zum letzten bekannten Aufenthaltsort ihrer Tochter. Als er sie auf die Karte übertrug, sah er, dass sie einen der vielen Pässe, die das Harran-Gebirge durchschneiden, befahren mussten, um die Platean-Ebene zu erreichen. Er scannte die Liste, unsicher, welcher der sicherste sein würde.

"Der direkteste Weg führt über den Datis-Pass", stellte er fest.

"Mir kommt es so vor, als ob jemand in der Bar immer davon spricht, dass dieser Pass von Gesetzlosen heimgesucht wird. Gibt es noch andere Möglichkeiten?"

Immanuel hatte einmal zugegeben, dass die Überquerung dieses Gebirgszuges oft der erschütterndste Teil ihrer Reise war.

"Wie wäre es mit dem Sargon-Pass? Ist das eine Option? Vinny schwört, dass es der sicherste Weg Richtung Osten ist."

"Sie vertrauen dem Kerl, der auch schwört, dass der Asteroid in Nemo tatsächlich wie ein Weltraumwal aussieht?"

"Er kann nicht immer falsch liegen. Schau einfach nach, ok?"

Cyrus lächelte. Die Leichtigkeit ihres Austauschs verflog, als die Absicht ihrer Mission wieder in den Vordergrund rückte. Er scannte die Liste der möglichen Routen, bis er eine durch den Sargon-Pass fand.

"Das verlängert die Reise um mindestens eine Stunde." Er wählte die Route aus, um sie im Detail zu untersuchen. "Warten Sie . . . Erinnern Sie sich an die Reise, die Immanuelle und ich vor etwa fünf, sechs Jahren zusammen gemacht haben?"

"Ihr zwei lacht immer noch darüber", seufzte Sid leise.

"Ich wünschte wirklich, du wärst in der Nacht vor unserer Abreise nicht krank geworden."

"Mir auch."

Schweigen herrschte zwischen ihnen.

"Wie auch immer, mir ist gerade aufgefallen, dass wir auf der Reise den Sargon-Pass genommen haben."

"Also ist zumindest einer von uns damit vertraut."

Cyrus nickte. Sid trat auf das Gaspedal und lenkte das Quad weiter südlich auf den Pass zu. Die Federung des Buggys ruckelte unter dem unwegsamen Gelände.

Vor ihm leckten die Sonnenstrahlen an den Berggipfeln und gaben dem Gebirge endlich etwas Tiefe und Schärfe. Cyrus nahm sich eine Sekunde Zeit, um die Aussicht zu bewundern, dann widmete er sich wieder der Sorge, den Pass sicher zu überqueren.

"Warum hast du uns schon wieder freiwillig für diesen Scheißjob gemeldet?" Dmitri zog seinen dünnen Mantel näher heran, um gegen die Kälte zu isolieren, die von den Felsen sickerte, aus denen sein Scharfschützenplatz bestand.

"Bleiben Sie vom Funkgerät weg", bellte Charlie zurück.

Ein kalter Wind pfiff durch den Sargon-Pass. Ein Schauer bahnte sich seinen Weg über Dmitris Wirbelsäule. Als er sich schließlich verflüchtigte, schaute er durch sein Zielfernrohr und scannte die Mündung des Passes, die noch in dunkle, frühmorgendliche Schatten gehüllt war.

Trotzig sprach er erneut in sein Funkgerät: "Dieser Pass ist zu eng, als dass ein großer Fisch ihn nehmen könnte. Sie werden Ihre neuen Freunde nicht beeindrucken, wenn Sie eine der Elritzen fangen, die hier durchkommen."

"Was zum Teufel habe ich gerade gesagt?"

Für einen Gesetzlosen war Charlie sicherlich ein Verfechter der Regeln, ein Charakterzug, der sich nur noch verstärkt hatte, nachdem die beiden beschlossen hatten, mit den Vucari zusammenzuarbeiten. Dmitri dachte sich, dass es Spaß machen würde, mit dem Rudel zu laufen, das so viel Territorium beherrschte. Währenddessen war Charlie schnell in den Masterplan der Vucari verliebt, um der UEE die Kontrolle über Reis zu entreißen. Dmitri freute sich lediglich auf die Plünderungen.

Trotz ihrer Motivationsunterschiede kauerten Dmitri und Charlie nun auf gegenüberliegenden Seiten des Sargon-Passes und hofften, jeden, der von Reis kam, in einen Hinterhalt locken zu können. Dmitri überprüfte die Zeit und fragte sich, wie lange die Sonne noch brauchen würde, um die Mündung des Passes zu beleuchten und, was noch wichtiger war, ihm ein wenig Wärme zu spenden.

Schließlich fühlte sich die süße Verlockung eines Reizes wie seine einzige Rettung an. Dmitri ließ das Scharfschützengewehr in Position und rutschte von seiner Sitzstange herunter, damit Charlie den Dampf nicht sehen konnte. Er nahm seinen Helm ab und holte eine Packung Kings aus seiner Tasche. Er genoss den Geschmack, als ihm der erste Zug in den Kopf schoss. Es machte fast alles wieder gut.

Plötzlich erfüllte ein schwaches Brummen die Luft. Das Geräusch war leise, kam aber immer näher. Dmitri scannte den Himmel und entdeckte eine kleine Drohne, die nicht weiter als zehn Meter entfernt schwebte. Irgendein Kerl hat ihn ausspioniert.

Dmitri zog seine Pistole. Seine freie Hand tastete verzweifelt nach seinem Helm, konnte ihn aber nicht finden. Er drehte sich um, um ihn zu suchen, dann wurde plötzlich alles schwarz.

Abgelenkt von der Drohne, sah er nicht, wie Sid sich näherte. Sie ließ ihr Gewehr sinken und drückte dann ein paar Knöpfe auf ihrem Mobi. Die Drohne flog zu ihrem Standort und landete sicher. Nachdem Sid den Puls des Jungen überprüft hatte, fesselte sie seine Hände und durchsuchte ihn dann aus Gewohnheit, wobei sie nur eine halbe Packung Kings fand. Er trug einen Flickenteppich an Kleidung und eine billige Rüstung, die mit den Vucari-Insignien beklebt war.

Er kletterte hinauf, schnappte sich das Scharfschützengewehr von seiner Stange und kauerte sich hinter eine Felsformation, während er es inspizierte. Die Seriennummer war abgefeilt und das Vucari-Emblem grob in den Schaft geätzt worden. Die Vucari verteilten also magere Rüstungen, aber anständige Waffen. Sie machte sich eine mentale Notiz.

Im Vertrauen darauf, dass die Vucari keinen einzigen Mann zur Bewachung des Passes abgestellt hatten, scannte Sid schnell die andere Seite durch das Zielfernrohr des Scharfschützengewehrs. Wenn noch jemand in der Nähe war, konnte sie ihn nicht sehen. Es musste mindestens ein, vielleicht zwei Mitarbeiter geben, die woanders auf der Lauer lagen. Bis zur Klärung konnte es gefährlich sein, noch näher heranzufahren.

"Wir haben Gesellschaft. Habe einen von ihnen überwältigt. Wir werden jeden aufscheuchen, der noch bei der Drohne ist."

"Ich komme und helfe."

"Position halten. Wir wissen noch nicht, womit wir es zu tun haben."

Sid startete die Drohne, um den Pass von oben zu vermessen. Auf den ersten Blick sah es klar aus. Dann entdeckte sie eine seltsame Form zwischen zwei großen Felsblöcken. Sie ließ die Drohne langsam über die Stelle sinken und sah einen geparkten Dragonfly. Das Ding hatte nur zwei Sitze, also musste es noch einen Gesetzlosen geben.

Plötzlich starb der Video-Feed der Drohne. Ein Schuss hallte durch den Pass, als die Drohne vom Himmel fiel. Sid versuchte, den Ursprung des Schusses auszumachen, aber es war zu spät. Beeindruckend - der Schütze brauchte nur einen einzigen Schuss, um sie zu treffen.

Ein seltsames knisterndes Geräusch erschreckte Sid. Sie drehte sich mit erhobener Waffe um, um niemanden vorzufinden. Sie atmete erleichtert aus, dann verfolgte sie das Geräusch zum Helm des Gesetzlosen, der unten auf dem Boden lag. Es würde nicht lange dauern, bis sein Landsmann merkte, dass diese Position gefährdet war. Sie musste bald handeln.

Sid hob langsam den Kopf, das Scharfschützengewehr im Anschlag. Gewehrfeuer brach aus, Kugeln sprühten um sie herum. Sie ging schnell wieder in Deckung, hatte aber zumindest den Angreifer im Visier.

"Feuern Sie?" Cyrus' Stimme knisterte in Sids Ohr.

"Gleich ... in ein paar Sekunden", antwortete sie, während sie ihren Platz hinter dem Felsen zurechtrückte.

"Ich bin auf dem Weg."

"Ich kann das erledigen." Sid richtete sich mit dem Scharfschützengewehr auf die Stelle, an der sie das Mündungsfeuer gesehen hatte. Es war niemand da. Weitere Schüsse pfefferten ihren Standort aus einem etwas anderen Winkel an. Sie schlug auf dem Deck auf, bevor sie genau einschätzen konnte, woher sie kamen.

"Haben Sie ihn erwischt?"

"Ich war es trotzdem nicht."

"Das war's."

"Ich brauche nur-"

"Etwas, um das Feuer woanders hinzulenken."

Cyrus hatte Recht. Außerdem war es nur Handfeuerwaffenfeuer gewesen. Das würde ihrer Fahrt nicht allzu viel Schaden zufügen.

"Gut. Zeigen Sie sich, aber wagen Sie sich nicht zu weit nach oben. Nach allem, was wir wissen, könnte der Eingang mit Sprengstoff ausgelegt sein."

Nicht weit vom Pass versteckt, trat Cyrus auf das Gaspedal. Der Buggy schlingerte vorwärts. Es fühlte sich für ihn etwas ruckartig an, und er machte sich eine mentale Notiz, es sich einmal zu Hause anzusehen.

In der Zwischenzeit kreiste Sid zu einer neuen Feuerposition weiter oben und hoffte, dass ihr neuer Aussichtspunkt in Kombination mit Cyrus' Ankunft diese Begegnung beenden würde.

"Ich erklimme gerade den Pass", verkündete Cyrus.

Sid machte ihre Waffe bereit und spähte über eine felsige Böschung auf die andere Seite, um darauf zu warten, dass dieser schlüpfrige Bastard sich wieder zeigte. Das Grollen des Fahrzeugs hallte durch den Canyon und kündigte seine Ankunft an. Sid scannte weiter mit dem Finger am Abzug.

Eine plötzliche Bewegung lenkte ihre Aufmerksamkeit auf sich. Sie konzentrierte sich auf die Stelle und hielt dann inne. Irgendetwas sah nicht ganz richtig aus. Es dauerte einen Moment, bis sie begriff, was sie sah. Der Gesetzlose hatte eine massive Waffe auf seine Schulter gehievt und zielte auf den Buggy.

"Raketenwerfer!" rief Sid über die Kommandozentrale.

Sie drückte eine Reihe von Schüssen auf den Gesetzlosen ab und sah ihn taumeln. Seine Bewegung wurde durch die massive Waffe, die irgendwie noch auf seiner Schulter saß, übertrieben. Sie holte tief Luft und feuerte weitere Schüsse ab, während sie ausatmete. Der Gesetzlose verschwand schließlich außer Sichtweite.

Einen Moment später ertönte eine Explosion an der Stelle, an der er gefallen war. Sid spürte, wie der Berghang bebte und hörte das deutliche Rumpeln von Felsen und Geröll, die bergab rollten. Die Felsformation gegenüber der Stelle, an der er gefallen war, wurde in Stücke gesprengt.

Augenblicke zuvor, als Cyrus Sids Warnung hörte, trat er instinktiv auf das Gaspedal, da er befürchtete, dass der Raketenwerfer in ihre Richtung gerichtet sein könnte. Das nächste, was er wusste, war, dass ein Knall durch den Canyon hallte. Als er realisierte, was passierte, war es unvermeidlich.

Cyrus sah etwas, das wie eine Flutwelle aus Trümmern aussah, die auf ihn zuraste. Er riss das Lenkrad hart nach links und das Fahrzeug drehte sich um neunzig Grad, wodurch die Beifahrerseite freigelegt wurde, gerade als eine Lawine auf sie zustürzte. Der Aufprall hob die Räder des Fahrzeugs vom Boden ab und schleuderte es bergab. Am Fuß des Passes angekommen, rollte es weiter, bis es jeden Schwung verlor.

Sid hörte den Aufprall und das wiederholte Knirschen von Stein auf Metall. Als das Geräusch gnädigerweise zum Stillstand kam, richtete sie das Scharfschützengewehr auf die sich auflösende Staubwolke am unteren Ende des Passes. Das Fahrzeug war auf dem Dach gelandet, ramponiert und zerschrammt, aber in einem Stück. Aus diesem Winkel konnte sie jedoch nicht in das Innere der Kabine sehen.

"Cyrus! Können Sie mich hören?", rief sie über den Funk.

Bevor sie eine Antwort erhielt, begann sie bergab zu laufen. Sid hatte das Gefühl, als würde sich das Leben in Zeitlupe bewegen. Bald rang sie nach Atem, die schwere Rüstung und die herzzerreißende Angst trafen sie hart. Sie hielt an, um sich zu sammeln, dann blickte sie nach oben und über den Pass. Sie seufzte vor Erleichterung beim Anblick der Libelle, die immer noch sicher zwischen zwei Felsen eingeklemmt war und gerade über der Explosion lag.

Sid requirierte die Dragonfly und raste zur Absturzstelle. Cyrus lag regungslos im Inneren des umgedrehten Fahrzeugs. Immer noch mit den Sicherheitsgurten am Sitz befestigt, baumelten seine Arme schlaff an seinem Kopf vorbei. Sid packte seinen nächstgelegenen Arm, zog einen MedPen heraus und stach ihn dort ein, wo sein Unteranzug frei lag.

Cyrus kam von der Kante zurück. Sein Körper füllte sich mit Adrenalin und Verwirrung darüber, warum alles auf dem Kopf stand. Er drehte sich um, um Sid zu sehen. Langsam kam die vorangegangene Serie von Ereignissen zurück.

"Hast du ihn erwischt?"

Sid nickte mit dem Kopf. "Bist du bereit?"

Er nickte im Gegenzug. Sie schnitt vorsichtig die Sicherheitsgurte weg und half ihm aus der Kabine. Endlich befreit, setzte sich Cyrus langsam auf, Geist und Körper waren immer noch nicht synchronisiert. Sid fühlte sich schlecht, weil er es dachte, aber er sah genauso aus wie damals, als sie ihn beim Nickerchen in der Werkstatt erwischt hatte.

"Hey ... Ich werde mal sehen, ob ich herausfinden kann, wo der Arzneikasten gelandet ist."

"Ich werde helfen."

"Sind Sie sicher?"

Cyrus setzte sich nach vorne und stand auf. "Versammeln Sie sich in fünf Minuten wieder hier?"

Sie gab ihm einen Daumen hoch. Cyrus wollte lächeln, war sich aber nicht sicher, ob er es konnte. Er hatte immer noch das Gefühl, dass nicht alle seine Drähte verbunden waren.

Sid kletterte auf das Dragonfly und folgte vorsichtig der Spur der Zerstörung, auf der Suche nach etwas, das es wert war, behalten zu werden. Cyrus umkreiste langsam den Buggy, fand aber nichts. Das gab ihm zumindest die Möglichkeit, seine Beine unter die Füße zu bekommen. Sid kehrte schneller als erwartet zurück.

"Kein Glück. Sie haben ihn wahrscheinlich auf halbem Weg nach Hause geschleudert." Sid scannte den Horizont. "Wenn wir den Suchradius ausweiten wollen, sollten wir das schnell tun. Es gibt keine Garantie, dass der Vorbesitzer dieses Motorrads nicht den gesamten Vucari-Clan informiert hat, dass wir versuchen, über diesen Pass zu kommen."

"Mir geht's gut. Los geht's."

Sid beäugte ihn, unsicher.

"Das Wichtigste ist, dass wir den Pass räumen, bevor die Verstärkung eintrifft." Cyrus zog sein maßgefertigtes Scharfschützengewehr aus seiner Halterung. Ihm fiel das Herz in die Hose. Der Lauf war ramponiert und leicht verbogen.

"Hier . . .”

Cyrus sah auf, als Sid ihm das Vucari-Scharfschützengewehr zuwarf. Er sah es sich einmal an. Es war nicht schlecht, aber es war nicht seins.

Er sprang auf das Dragonfly. Cyrus' Rücken kam gegen den von Sid zur Ruhe. Er atmete aus, legte das Scharfschützengewehr auf seinen Schoß und schnallte sich dann an. Sicher, dass er sicher an Bord war, öffnete Sid die Drosselklappen auf Maximum und konzentrierte sich darauf, Abstand zwischen sich und den Hinterhalt zu bringen.

Sid und Cyrus trafen beim Verlassen des Sargon-Passes auf keinen weiteren Widerstand. Sie rasten auf die Platean-Ebene und wurden von der Morgensonne geblendet. An verschiedenen Stellen des Horizonts verschwand das Land einfach. Diese Lücken deuteten auf geografische Narben hin, die einst Tagebaue waren, jetzt aber immer öfter Lager von Gesetzlosen verbargen. Sid achtete darauf, um die Lücken einen großen Bogen zu machen.

"Folgt uns jemand?"

"Nicht, dass ich sehen könnte." Cyrus scannte nach Staubwolken oder anderen offensichtlichen Zeichen.

"Gut. Wir sind fast da."

Ein unnatürliches Wirrwarr von Formen zeichnete sich gegen den Horizont ab. Das musste es sein. Sid blickte sich schnell um. Sie konnte kilometerweit in alle Richtungen sehen. Ein interessanter Ort, um einen Konvoi zu überfallen.

Sid blieb in einiger Entfernung von dem Wrack stehen. Cyrus beäugte es mit dem Scharfschützengewehr und sah niemanden. Der Scanner der Dragonfly sagte dasselbe.

Sie näherten sich, dann umkreisten sie den Ort des Überfalls. Mehrere Trucks saßen in verschiedenen Zuständen der Zerstörung. Einer war knusprig verbrannt, kaum mehr als ein Rahmen. Andere waren durch und durch mit Einschusslöchern und Laserstrahlen durchlöchert. Einer lag auf der Seite.

Sid hielt die Dragonfly in der Mitte des Konvois an. Die beiden stiegen ab und blickten in alle Richtungen. Keine einzige Leiche war irgendwo zu sehen.

"Links oder rechts?"

"Ich werde links nehmen", antwortete Cyrus. Er machte sich auf den Weg in die ihm zugewiesene Richtung. Das nächstgelegene Fahrzeug war von etwas eingeäschert worden. Außer dem Rahmen und Asche war nicht viel übrig. Cyrus sah es sich trotzdem genau an.

Die völlige Zerstörung musste das Werk der Cadejo-Crew sein. Die Vucari wären vorsichtiger gewesen, damit sie dieses Gerät für ihre eigenen Zwecke nutzen konnten. Die Cadejo forderten die Vucari eindeutig um die Kontrolle über das Gebiet heraus. Ein solcher Bandenkrieg würde diese Region nur weiter destabilisieren und die Versorgung von Behistun noch gefährlicher machen.

Cyrus war auf halbem Weg zum nächsten Fahrzeug, als Sid ihn anrief.

"Cyrus, zu mir."

Er drehte sich um und eilte in ihre Richtung. Sid stand am Heck eines weitgehend intakten Trucks, dessen Hecktüren weit geöffnet waren. Wo einst Vorräte gelagert worden waren, saß nun ein Haufen ramponierter Rüstungen. In der Mitte lag das Bruststück von Immanuelles Rüstung. So oft, wie er sie im Laufe der Jahre repariert hatte, würde Cyrus sie überall wiedererkennen.

Nachdem sie nach Sprengstoff gescannt hatten, zogen sie Immanuelles Rüstung aus dem Haufen und untersuchten sie. Er fragte: "Glauben Sie die Gerüchte über die Cadejos, die Menschen lebend fangen?"

Sid schritt langsam weg vom Fahrzeug, plötzlich anderswohin gezogen.

"Ich glaube das meiste, was ich höre, nicht, aber ich werde mich davon nicht abhalten lassen."

Cyrus schaute auf und sah, wie Sid in die Ferne starrte. Er schloss sich ihr an und sah es dann. Reifenspuren, die nach Norden führten.

Sid und Cyrus schauten sich in die Augen. Es brauchte nichts weiter gesagt zu werden als: "Ich hole das Motorrad."

FORTSETZUNG FOLGT...

 Writer’s Note: Sid & Cyrus: Part One was published originally in Jump Point 5.5.
A high-pitched screech carried across the Falling Sky as the front door slid open. None of the regulars at this run-down watering hole noticed the noise or cared. Only Sidney looked up from her post behind the bar. Still as observant and energetic as most people half her age, Sid needed but a moment to scan the young man who entered before going back to work. She’d seen enough.

The kid sidled up to the bar and eyed Vinny, sitting a few stools down. Vinny took a deep drink and kept his eyes glued to the vidscreen. When the Crashers were playing, nothing was more important to him. Definitely not some nervous kid with a wild look in his eyes.

The kid leaned toward Sid, only to pause and glance Vinny’s way again. Once absolutely certain he wasn’t listening, he muttered, “Tomyris sent me.”

Tomyris was the leader of a burgeoning and ruthless outlaw pack calling themselves the Cadejo Crew. Sid knew Tomyris through reputation only, but if this kid thought otherwise, who was she to wreck his reality? So she smiled to put him at ease then replied, “How ’bout I buy you a drink?”

“Radegast, neat . . . wait, you got Ghosts?”

“Course.” Sid grabbed the bottle of Tevarin rye white whiskey and poured his drink. The kid took the moment to eye Vinny again. His nervousness was palpable.

“This is your first run, isn’t it?”

That returned the kid’s attention to her. She set the glass before him. “Don’t worry, you’re doing great.”

The kid gulped down the white whiskey and almost spit it back out as the burn hit his throat. To his credit, he managed to swallow.

“It’s just,” the kid said as he wiped his lips on the sleeve of his worn flight suit, “well, you know. It’s been a crazy day for me.”

Sid topped him off with a bottle of bootleg moonshine, certain after the initial burn he wouldn’t notice the difference.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, it’s done.”

“It?”

“You know,” the kid leaned in even farther and lowered his voice ’till she could barely hear what he said next, “the convoy to Behistun.”

Sid’s stomach sank. Immanuelle. All she could manage in response was, “You’re sure it’s . . .”

“Yeah . . . I was there.” The kid killed his drink and glanced to the sataball game. Sid refilled his glass and resisted the urge to smash him over the head with the bottle.

“So, we good? They said you’ll handle phase two, right?” The kid asked. Sid forced a smile and nodded. The kid threw back the last shot and set down the glass. “Never did catch your name.”

“Devin.”

Sid mentally logged the name. Then said it aloud to imprint it in her mind one more time.

“You stay safe, Devin.”

The kid smiled and stumbled to the door, suddenly feeling the effect of the hooch. Sid disappeared into the office in the back of the bar. She found Talsa and said she was feeling sick. Talsa sighed sharply, then waved her off without further inquiry.

Seconds later, Sid slipped out the bar’s back door. She debated following Devin and learning what else he knew, but in the end decided against it. Right now she needed Cyrus. Quickening her pace, Sid headed home.

The constant hum of landing and launching ships filled the sky as Sid hurried through the streets of Reis. The city was abuzz with late afternoon activity, as residents rushed to complete errands before Nexus’ bluish-white sun sank over the city’s heavily fortified walls. Most avoided the streets after dark due to the surging crime rate, but Sid preferred it then. There were fewer people around to slow her down.

Sid rounded the corner occupied by Q&D Aeroservice, then merged with a scrum pushing their way through a particularly narrow part of the street. Causing the bottleneck were a cluster of shacks constructed from scrapped shipping containers. Inside lived refugees from outposts overrun by the Vucari. These survivors were the lucky ones.

The Vucari, one of Lago’s oldest outlaw packs, had grown back into power and prominence over the previous months. Led by the newly promoted Master Kraujas, they had become the biggest threat in the area once again, even overshadowing the recent nastiness that was the Cadejos. Methodically, the Vucari expanded their territory by overtaking civilian outposts. Anyone who resisted suffered from their cruelty. Anyone who relinquished all weapons and possessions was allowed to flee. Most ended up in Reis with nothing but the clothes on their backs. The crude shelters, like the ones Sid squeezed by now, were at least a step up from the broken pavement claimed by most poor souls who had to sleep on the streets.

She continued for a few blocks before ducking down an alley. The stench of Human waste slapped Sid in the face. The smell was new, a sign of worsening waste management within the city.

Sid held her breath, and carefully avoided the piles of trash and strange stains. An outbreak due to poor public sanitation was the last thing Lago needed. People were already on edge due to the housing shortage and shrinking food supplies. Sid knew that if Reis slipped any further, all civility would be shredded. She’d seen it before and she knew what would happen next.

The Vucari would take advantage of the discord and strike. Reclaiming Reis was the dream of every outlaw commander ever since the UEE forcibly reclaimed the planet in 2931. Master Kraujas knew such a conquest would establish his name in history. He also understood that civil instability was his greatest ally and that crumbling civility would only make taking the city easier.

Sid slowed at a tall fence made from corrugated metal, her eyes scanning to insure its integrity. She carefully followed the fence around the corner until it connected to the back of a two-story building. She proceeded to the front of the building and entered a rundown repair shop occupying the first floor.

A bell chimed as Sid opened the door. Behind the service counter, shelves of scrap collected dust. Sid ducked under the counter and crossed the threshold into the workroom of the shop.

Cyrus dozed in a battered chair behind a desk cluttered with mechanical parts and electronic components. Sid nudged her husband’s feet off the desk, startling him awake. A small drone fell from his lap to the floor.

Cyrus sat forward and took a second, his post-nap haze still not completely clear. Though Cyrus was still sharp and nimble, he was sometimes slow to action.

“What you doing back so early?” he asked while scooping up the dropped drone.

“What good is that bell if you don’t hear it?”

Cyrus waved off the reply as he scanned the drone for damage. He snagged a small screwdriver and made a few minor adjustments.

Sid took a deep breath, knowing this next moment might make everything she feared real. Cyrus sensed the pregnant pause and met her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“We need to check Immanuelle’s tracker.”

Cyrus took a moment to process the request before spinning in his chair and tossing the drone on his desk, all in one swift movement. He briskly typed at his terminal as spare parts rattled on his desk. He glanced up to see Sid pacing. Her shoulders hunched forward with anxiety, making her look every bit her age.

Seconds later, Cyrus began to launch a program he hadn’t opened in almost a year. It was a backdoor into the geolocation and biofeedback sensors in Immanuelle’s armor, a feature of which their daughter was not aware.

Cyrus added it after a Vucari raid had hit her convoy hauling food and first aid to settlements across Lago. She had spent a week in the hospital afterwards, one of the longest weeks of his life. Outlaws were growing more emboldened by the day, but Cyrus knew that wouldn’t stop Immanuelle. At her age, it wouldn’t have stopped him, either.

Conflicted over what he had done, Cyrus told Sid. In the ensuing argument, she both chastised and thanked him for doing it. The two agreed to access the armor’s information only if absolutely necessary. Immanuelle had been on numerous delivery runs on Lago’s contested planetside since, without incident. This was the first time they had felt compelled to check it.

Cyrus knew something was terribly wrong without even having to ask, but he couldn’t sit in silence not knowing for much longer. “What’d you hear at the bar?”

“Some kid came talking about an attack on a convoy to Behistun. He thought I was someone else, so I don’t know how much I can trust him . . .”

“. . . but . . .”

“He had that look in his eye.” She didn’t need to say more. Cyrus understood.

“Think it’s Vucari again?” he asked.

“Cadejo.”

Cyrus visibly paled. The program finally initialized. He typed a few quick commands and waited. The terminal pinged and returned results.

“Well?” wondered Sid, unable to bring herself to face the screen. Following a few seconds of excruciating silence, she turned to find Cyrus scanning data. “Is she ok?”

“Uncertain,” he replied carefully.

“What does that mean? Is that thing even working?”

“It was. Until eight hours ago. There’s been nothing since. There’s a chance —”

“Where?”

“. . . what?”

Sid crossed to the terminal, “Where’d that last signal come from?”

“North, 34 degrees . . . 26 minutes —”

“Not the coordinates.” Sid leaned across the desk and expanded the map’s visible range. The signal came from the middle of the Platean Plain, about half-way to Behistun.

“That’s Vucari territory, isn’t it? What are the Cadejo doing there?”

Sid gave it a passing thought; hitting a shipment in enemy territory violated the honor code many of these outlaw packs lived by. Then she grabbed her rifle and slammed a fresh battery in it. “I don’t know and I don’t care.”

Neither Sid nor Cyrus had the courage to vocalize their fear about what might have happened to their daughter. Instead, they simply agreed to find out for themselves.

The two spent the night gathering and prepping their old gear. They moved furniture and raised floor panels to access hidden weapon lockers built by Cyrus. The caches were strategically placed throughout their two-story building so weapons would never be too far away if outlaws or ghosts from their past arrived on their doorstep.

In their own words, Sid and Cyrus ran a small security firm before moving to Reis. The reality was that they were in-demand mercs with an impressive portfolio of missions and a notable number of enemies. It was the life they wanted until the unexpected occurred.

Immanuelle had never been part of their plan. Sid was as shocked as Cyrus to discover she was pregnant. The news floored the couple and forced them to reassess their life. To both their surprise, they realized that they liked the idea of expanding their family. Problem was, they had dodged death far too often and knew it was only a matter of time before it caught up with them. Immanuelle’s arrival was a chance to reset and escape the dangers that had become part of their everyday existence.

When Immanuelle was five they bought this modest two-story building on Reis. The previous year, the UEE had wrestled control of Nexus away from outlaw pacts that had dominated the system for centuries, so the government offered sweetheart land deals to entice new residents. Since Sid and Cyrus had never worked within the system, they figured it was an ideal place to start fresh with a minimal chance of encountering their past.

Cyrus converted the building’s ground floor into a repair shop. His knack for fixing things proved invaluable, as outlaw attacks on supply shipments were common. Sid helped run the repair shop and raise Immanuelle, but felt restless until she wandered into the Falling Sky bar. There, a bit of the buzz came back. She found a piece of her old life among the mercs who frequented it. So, she taught herself to make a killer Terra Tornado, convinced Talsa to hire her, and lived vicariously through the regulars’ stories of Lago’s untamed planetside.

All the while, Immanuelle remained none the wiser to her parent’s previous life. It’s not that Sid and Cyrus hid their past from her. They merely were selective with what they said, both hoping that the gene of self-endangerment had skipped a generation.

Still, it didn’t take long for their daughter’s sense of adventure to surface. Before turning ten, Immanuelle had explored every last nook, cranny and alley in their neighborhood. As a teenager, she often got in trouble for sneaking into the Falling Sky when Sid was off duty to hear the outrageous and often grisly tales its patrons told. It was obvious to Sid and Cyrus that their daughter was cut from the same cloth as her parents.

Cyrus checked ammo clips one by one before sliding them into his pack, in an effort to get his emotions in check and focus on the job at hand. In recent months, he had only heard passing mentions of Tomyris and the Cadejo Crew, but each one had sent a shiver down his spine. Unlike the Vucari, no one attacked by the Cadejo made it back to Reis. Rumors swirled that the Cadejos preferred to take people alive for use in some sinister ritual. Cyrus didn’t quite believe the tales, but had seen enough strange stuff in his day to not completely discount them. At least if true, he reasoned with himself, Immanuelle might have a better chance of still being alive now.

Cyrus slung a duffel bag filled with gear and guns over his shoulder and carefully carried it downstairs. He dropped the bag behind the counter with a thud. He drew a deep breath, surprised by how winded he was, then stepped into the repair shop.

“First light in forty-five,” he called to Sid. “I’ll bring the buggy ’round back.”

“I’ll come help in a few.”

Sid stood at a workbench making adjustments to her energy rifle while wearing heavy armor sans helmet, her lucky bandanna holding back her hair. The sight gave Cyrus pause. She’d always worn light armor in their merc days, preferring to be fleet of foot over aggressively armored.

A few years ago, she returned from a shift at the Falling Sky wearing the heavy armor. She scared Immanuelle half to death by confidently striding behind the repair shop counter before identifying herself. Sid claimed someone gave her a good deal on it, and asked Cyrus to work his magic. She said it might come in handy some day. He never expected this to be it.

“Going with the heavy, huh? You have a chance to field test it?”

“Seems as good a time as any,” she replied.

“The effect on your speed and stamina might surp—”

“Hey . . . I thought you were going to get the quad.”

Sid took her eyes off her gun to shoot Cyrus a look. Her face almost appeared to float amidst the massive armor around her.

“Fine, but I need to tell you two quick things. One, and I’m just being honest here, you look a little ridiculous,” he said as he headed towards the garage. Sid’s eyes flared with intensity. “And two, when you put on your helmet, apply the setting labeled with your name. I’ve already programmed in your preferences.”

A small smile crept across Sid’s face, the first one Cyrus had seen since she arrived home. Before she could respond, Cyrus was out the door. The smile was all the reassurance he needed to know his world wouldn’t completely crumble if this mission ended in the way neither of them dared say.

Reis sat on Sid & Cyrus’ six half an hour later. The two shared a look exiting the city’s eastern security checkpoint. This was the first time the two had been out on an assignment since Immanuelle was born.

As they crossed the Mycale Valley, towering gray mountains loomed on the horizon. Being backlit by the slowly rising sun only made them more ominous and imposing. As Sid drove, Cyrus calculated several potential routes to their daughter’s last known location. Transposing it to the map, he saw that to reach the Platean Plain they would have to navigate one of the many passes that cut through the Harran Mountains. He scanned the list, unsure which one would be the safest.

“The most direct route is through the Datis Pass,” he noted.

“Feels like someone at the bar is always talking about how that pass is infested with outlaws. Any other options?”

Immanuel had once admitted that crossing this range was often the most harrowing part of her journey.

“How about the Sargon Pass? That an option? Vinny swears it’s the safest one heading east.”

“You trust the guy who also swears that asteroid in Nemo actually looks like a space whale?”

“He can’t be wrong all the time. Just check, ok?”

Cyrus smiled. The lightness of their exchange evaporated as the intention of their mission again came front and center. He scanned the list of potential routes until finding one through the Sargon Pass.

“It’ll add at least an hour to the trip.” He selected the route to examine it in detail. “Wait . . . Remember that trip Immanuelle and I took together say about five, six years ago?”

“You two still laugh about it,” Sid sighed softly.

“Really wish you hadn’t gotten sick the night before we left.”

“Me too.”

Silence sat between them.

“Anyways, I just realized we took the Sargon Pass on that trip.”

“So at least one of us is familiar with it.”

Cyrus nodded. Sid stepped on the accelerator and steered the quad more southward towards the pass. The buggy’s suspension bucked under the rough terrain.

Ahead the sun’s rays licked the mountain peaks, finally providing the range some depth and definition. Cyrus took a second to admire the view, then returned to worrying about getting through the pass safely.

“Why’d you volunteer us for this shite gig again?” Dmitri drew his thin coat closer to insulate against the cold seeping from the rocks that composed his sniper perch.

“Stay off comms,” Charlie barked back.

A chilly wind whistled through the Sargon Pass. A shiver worked its way down Dmitri’s spine. When it finally fled, he looked through his sniper rifle scope and scanned the mouth of the pass, which was still shrouded in dark, early morning shadows.

He defiantly spoke into his comm again, “This pass is too narrow for any big fish to take. You’re not gonna impress your new friends by catching any of the minnows that come through here.”

“The hell I just say?”

For an outlaw, Charlie certainly was a stickler for the rules, a trait that had only intensified after the two decided to crew with the Vucari. Dmitri figured it’d be fun to run with the pack that had come to dominate so much territory. Meanwhile, Charlie quickly became enamored with the Vucari’s master plan to wrest control of Reis away from the UEE. Dmitri merely looked forward to the looting.

Despite their motivational differences, Dmitri and Charlie were now hunkered down on opposite sides of the Sargon Pass, hoping to ambush anyone coming from Reis. Dmitri checked the time, and wondered how much longer it would take the sun to illuminate the mouth of the pass and more importantly, provide him a bit of warmth.

Eventually, the sweet lure of a stim felt like his only salvation. Dmitri left the sniper rifle in position and slid down from his perch so Charlie wouldn’t see the vapor. He removed his helmet and plucked a pack of Kings out of his pocket. He savored the flavor as the first pull rushed to his head. It almost made everything all right.

Suddenly, a faint hum filled the air. The sound was subtle but growing closer. Dmitri scanned the sky to discover a small drone hovering no more than ten meters away. Some bugger was spying on him.

Dmitri drew his pistol. His free hand frantically felt for his helmet but couldn’t find it. He turned to look for it, then everything suddenly went black.

Distracted by the drone, he never saw Sid slip in close. She lowered her rifle then hit a few buttons on her mobi. The drone zipped to her location and landed safely. After Sid checked the kid’s pulse, she bound his hands and then searched him out of habit, finding only a half pack of Kings. He wore a patchwork of clothes and cheap armor plastered with the Vucari insignia.

Climbing up, Sid snagged the sniper rifle from its perch and hunkered behind a rock formation while inspecting it. The serial number had been filed off and the Vucari emblem crudely etched into its stock. So, the Vucari distributed meager armor but decent weapons. She made a mental note.

Confident the Vucari hadn’t assigned a single guy to guard the pass, Sid quickly scanned the other side through the sniper rifle scope. If anyone else was around, she couldn’t see them. There had to be at least one, maybe two associates staked out elsewhere. Until cleared, driving any closer could be dangerous.

“We’ve got company. Subdued one of them. Going to flush out anyone left with the drone.”

“I’ll come help.”

“Hold position. Don’t know what we’re up against yet.”

Sid launched the drone to survey the pass from above. It looked clear at first glance. Then she spotted a strange shape between two big boulders. She slowly lowered the drone over the location and saw a parked Dragonfly. That thing only seated two, so that must mean there was one outlaw left.

Suddenly, the drone’s video feed died. A gunshot echoed through the pass as the drone fell from the sky. Sid scrambled to spot the shot’s origin but it was too late. Impressive — the shooter needed only a single round to hit it.

A strange crackling sound startled Sid. She spun, weapon raised, to find no one there. She exhaled, relieved, then tracked the sound to the outlaw’s helmet lying on the ground below. It wouldn’t be long before his compatriot realized this position has been compromised. She had to move soon.

Sid slowly lifted her head with the sniper rifle at the ready. Gunfire erupted, spraying bullets all around her. She quickly ducked back to cover, but at least had a bead on the assailant’s location.

“That you firing?” Cyrus’ voice crackled in Sid’s ear.

“It will be . . . in a few seconds,” she responded while adjusting her spot behind the rock.

“I’m on my way.”

“I can handle it.” Sid raised up with the sniper rifle trained on the spot where she had seen the muzzle flash. No one was there. More gunshots peppered her location from a slightly different angle. She hit the deck before gauging exactly where they came from.

“You get him?”

“Still wasn’t me.”

“That’s it.”

“I just need—”

“Something to draw that fire elsewhere.”

Cyrus was right. Plus, it had only been small arms fire. That wouldn’t do too much damage to their ride.

“Fine. Show yourself but don’t venture too far up. For all we know, the entrance could be lined with explosives.”

Hidden not far from the pass, Cyrus stepped on the accelerator. The buggy lurched forward. It felt a bit jumpy to him, and he made a mental note to look at it once home.

Meanwhile, Sid circled to a new firing position further up, hoping her new vantage point combined with Cyrus’ arrival would end this encounter.

“Just cresting the pass,” Cyrus announced.

Sid readied her weapon and peered over a rocky embankment toward the other side, waiting for this slippery bastard to show himself again. The vehicle’s rumble echoed through the canyon, announcing its arrival. Sid kept scanning with her finger on the trigger.

A sudden movement drew her attention. She focused on the location then paused. Something didn’t look quite right. It took her a moment to realize what she was seeing. The outlaw had a massive weapon hoisted on his shoulder and aimed at the buggy.

“Rocket launcher!” Sid cried over comms.

She squeezed off a series of shots at the outlaw and saw him stagger. His movement was exaggerated by the massive weapon somehow still on his shoulder. She drew a deep breath and fired off more shots while exhaling. The outlaw finally dropped out of sight.

A moment later, an explosion erupted from the place he had fallen. Sid felt the mountainside shake and heard the distinct rumble of rocks and boulders rolling downhill. The rock formation facing where he had fallen was blasted to bits.

Moments earlier, when Cyrus heard Sid’s warning, he instinctively slammed on the accelerator, concerned that the rocket launcher might be pointed in her direction. The next thing he knew, a boom echoed through the canyon. By the time he realized what was happening, it was unavoidable.

Cyrus saw what looked like a tidal wave of rubble roaring toward him. He yanked the steering wheel hard left and the vehicle spun about ninety degrees, exposing the passenger’s side, just as an avalanche slammed into it. The impact knocked the vehicle’s wheels off the ground and blew it downhill. Once at the bottom of the pass, it continued rolling until it lost all momentum.

Sid heard the impact and repeated crunch of rock on metal. When the sound mercifully came to a stop, she trained the sniper rifle on the dissipating dust cloud at the bottom of the pass. The vehicle had ended up on its roof, battered and bruised but in one piece. From this angle, though, she couldn’t see inside the cab.

“Cyrus! Can you hear me?” she cried over comms.

Before receiving an answer, she began to run downhill. Sid felt like life was moving in slow motion. Soon she struggled for breath, the heavy armor and heart-stopping anxiety hitting her hard. She stopped to gather herself, then glanced up and across the pass. She sighed with relief at the sight of the Dragonfly still safely tucked between two boulders, its position just above the blast.

Sid commandeered the Dragonfly and sped to the crash site. Cyrus was motionless inside the upside-down vehicle. Still secured to the seat by the safety restraints, his arms limply dangled past his head. Sid grabbed his closest arm, pulled out a MedPen, and stabbed it where his undersuit was exposed.

Cyrus came back from the brink. His body filled with adrenaline and confusion as to why everything was inverted. He turned to see Sid. Slowly, the preceding series of events came back.

“You get him?”

Sid nodded her head. “You ready?”

He nodded in return. She carefully cut away the safety restraints and helped him out of the cab. Finally freed, Cyrus slowly sat up, mind and body still not in sync. Sid felt bad for thinking it, but he looked just like he did when she caught him napping in the shop.

“Hey . . . I’m gonna see if I can find where the med kit wound up.”

“I’ll help.”

“You sure?”

Cyrus sat forward and stood up. “Rally back here in five?”

She gave him a thumbs up. Cyrus wanted to smile but wasn’t sure if he could. He still felt like not all his wires were connected.

Sid climbed on the Dragonfly and carefully followed the trail of destruction, searching for anything worth keeping. Cyrus slowly circled the buggy but found nothing. It at least afforded him the chance to get his legs under him. Sid returned faster than expected.

“No luck. You probably flung it halfway home.” Sid scanned the horizon. “If we want to expand the search radius, let’s do it fast. No guarantee the previous owner of this bike didn’t inform the entire Vucari clan that we’re trying to get through that pass.”

“I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Sid eyed him, uncertain.

“The most important thing is to clear the pass before reinforcements arrive.” Cyrus pulled his custom sniper rifle from its attachment point. His heart dropped. The barrel was battered and slightly bent.

“Here . . .”

Cyrus looked up as Sid tossed him the Vucari sniper rifle. He gave it a once over. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t his.

He jumped on the Dragonfly. Cyrus’ back came to rest against Sid’s. He exhaled, laid the sniper rifle across his lap and then strapped in. Sure he was safely aboard, Sid opened up the throttles to max and concentrated on putting distance between themselves and the ambush site.

Sid and Cyrus faced no more resistance leaving the Sargon Pass. They raced onto the Platean Plain and were blinded by the morning sun. At various points across the horizon, the land just vanished. These gaps indicated geographical scars that were once strip mines, but were now more and more often hiding outlaw encampments. Sid made sure to give the gaps a wide berth.

“Anyone following us?”

“Not that I can see.” Cyrus scanned for dust clouds or other obvious signs.

“Good. We’re almost there.”

An unnatural jumble of shapes was silhouetted against the horizon. That must be it. Sid quickly glanced around. She could see for kilometers in all directions. Interesting spot to ambush a convoy.

Sid stopped at some distance from the wreckage. Cyrus eyed it with the sniper rifle and saw no one. The scanner on the Dragonfly said the same.

They approached, then circled the ambush site. Several trucks sat in various states of ruin. One was burnt to a crisp, barely more than a frame. Others were thoroughly riddled with bullet holes and laser blasts. One lay on its side.

Sid stopped the Dragonfly at the center of the convoy’s line. The two dismounted and glanced in each direction. Not a single body was anywhere to be seen.

“Left or right?”

“I’ll take left,” replied Cyrus. He headed off in his assigned direction. The closest vehicle had been incinerated by something. There was little left besides its frame and ash. Cyrus still gave it a good once over.

The utter destruction had to be the work of the Cadejo Crew. The Vucari would’ve been more careful so they could use this equipment for their own purposes. The Cadejo were clearly challenging Vucari for control of the area. Such a gang war would only further destabilize this region and make getting supplies to Behistun that much more dangerous.

Cyrus was halfway to the next vehicle when Sid commed him.

“Cyrus, on me.”

He turned and hurried in her direction. Sid stood at the back of a mostly intact truck, its rear doors open wide. Where supplies had once been stored now sat a pile of battered armor. In the middle was the chest piece from Immanuelle’s armor. With the number of times he had repaired it over the years, Cyrus would recognize it anywhere.

After scanning for explosives, they pulled Immanuelle’s armor out of the pile and inspected it. He asked, “You believe the rumors about the Cadejos taking people alive?”

Sid slowly walked away from the vehicle, suddenly drawn elsewhere.

“I don’t believe most of what I hear, but I’m not going to let that stop me.”

Cyrus looked up to see Sid staring off into the distance. He joined her and then saw it. Tire tracks leading north.

Sid and Cyrus locked eyes. Nothing else needed to be said besides, “I’ll go get the bike.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

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  CIG ID  17945

 Channel  Undefined

  Category  Undefined

 Series  Sid & Cyrus

  Comments  30

  Published   5 years ago (2021-01-13T02:00:00+00:00)

  [RSI Article](https://robertsspaceindustries.com/comm-link/serialized-fiction/17945-Sid-Cyrus-Part-One) [API](https://api.star-citizen.wiki/api/comm-links/17945)