Castor was yet again cursing his life as he trudged through the thick and damp forest. He kept his nanoweave camo-cloak tight around his person. Its colours constantly shifting to match the undergrowth.
He had parked his newly acquired jump ship along with his Warlord Quanta next to a ridge of a nearby mountain. He had been quite lucky, it was a sensor blind spot. Allowing him to get far closer to his target than he expected.
He still had to spend the better part of a day hoofing it by foot. He had brought a few scout drones with him, those were small enough to avoid attracting any attention, but he dared not bring anything to make his journey faster.
By early afternoon he had found a perch to observe the bunker fortress - where the girl was located. There seemed to be a fair amount of activity going on, and he got eyes on what he assumed was his target.
A tall woman, long black hair, was utterly humiliating a teenager lad at shooting practice.
The girl was mechanical in the way she handled the weapon.
He tagged a number of taccies around her, watching. Plus some more in higher positions keeping an eye. This girl had everyone worried.
The approach was going to be hard. He couldn't spot the girl's family anywhere. But she didn't seem to be distraught, so Castor imagined they were somewhere safe. He would prefer to make contact first before going in all guns blazing. It would be ideal if he could convince the girl to leave with him peacefully. Even with a Jump ship full of drones Castor was uncertain if he could take on a full bunker fortress.
There was some damage around, it looks like there had been a recent attack, work crews made out of regular folk were in the process of fixing and rebuilding. A plan formed in his head, he knew how he was going to get in.
By the time night fell Castor had made his way to the local town, he had 'acquired' some common folk clothing and ditched his tactical gear with his scout drones. And made his way to the local tavern.
He had no local currency to speak of, but with a number of knick knacks he was able to barter his way into an ale and a game of cards.
Pulling up a chair not too far from the heat of the hearth, he played a few hands, the game was a variant of a common card game across the galaxy.
"Im looking for work" he said, "I'm from a few villages down, Pukepike, you heard of it? Well we heard down there that the bunker fortress needed repair work, I'm a dab hand at fixing things, everyone says so." He spoke in a fast and over friendly way, hoping to overwhelm the others around the table into agreeing with him.
"You talk too much." said the man to his left.
"Ahh let him blather while I take his money." Said the grinning man to the right, who just won the pot.
Castor happily gave up the money. "So any space on the work crews?"
"All the spots are filled." Said the grumpy man to his left.
Castor, expecting this, flashed the man a smile, and then some stones of considerable worth. "How about a wager? I throw these into the pot, you throw in your spot on the crew?" candle light flickering off his toothy smile.
The grumpy man eyed the stones greedily. "Done."
Castor could have palmed a card, or cheated in any number of ways to win, he knew how. But he was a gambler at heart, he felt the odds and he had a good hand.
He played it straight and won the pot, with the heady rush of the win he almost missed the darkened expression of the grumpy man.
The happy man on the right clapped on the back. "Well played, met the crew in the town square at first light tomorrow."
They played a few more rounds before everyone politely retired, the grumpy man didn't say another word during the game.
Castor exited the tavern and very obviously walked down a dark alleyway acting more drunk than he was. He pretended to use the wall for support and waited.
The grumpy man followed, he grabbed Castor by the shoulder, pulling him around "Oi I don't know wha…"
Those were the last words the man ever said - as Castor had buried his knife up under his chin and into his brain stem. The knife keeping his jaw shut as his dying body made some quiet, unnatural, gurgling sounds.
Castor laid him down and covered him over in trash and shit. It would take a day or two for the smell to get bad enough to attract attention.
The next morning Castor followed the crew to the bunker fortress. Castor quickly was able to lose himself in the crowd. He found himself some tools and walked around with a purpose, acting like he belonged wherever he may be. At one point he found a thick data cable running through the masonary. Making sure the coast was clear he pulled out a small black cylinder from under his clothing. He uncapped the top exposing a spike. Feeling along the the rubberly surface of the cable he slowly pushed in the spike, piercing the cable were nobody would see. The spike would create a blind spot in the bunker fortresses sensors for him, to operate in if he needed.
There was a wedding being arranged, between the girl and the Knights son, a bold move. Especially after he heard about the imminent arrival of The Bastard Son. Castor had never met the man, but he had heard the stories.
He eventually found the girl, amongst the drones. She was as still as a statue. He approached, thinking how best to make contact.
"You're not a serf." She said to him calmly, without opening her eyes.
Fuck.
"How did you know?" He asked.
"You have weapons on you. I can sense their data feeds. Who are you?" She opened her eyes looking at him for the first time.
"That's a useful skill to have. Castor, and you?"
"Lillian." She watched him sit down, opposite her.
"Do you know what the black beast of the pit is?" He asked.
"No, should I?"
"It would have made this a lot easier if you had." He took a small bottle out from the folds of his clothes, took a swig and grimaced, then offered it to Lillian. She took it politely and drank without making an expression.
"I've been contracted to rescue you, and take you to the black beast of the pit. I was paid extremely handsomely for the job." He said.
"Do I look like I need rescue?"
"The Bastard Son is coming. So yes, yes you do." Castor stated.
She took another swig and handed the bottle back. "I'll be married in a few hours. They won't be able to take me."
"You think that will stop him? I've heard stories of him raising entire cities to the ground because they defied him." He said, drinking.
"Sir August believes it will."
"Then the man is a fool."
"Not a fool. A saviour."
"Just as bad, do you need saving?"
"...Yes, probably."
"Then let me save you." He said with a shit eating grin.
"What is the black beast of the pit?" She asked, changing tacts.
"A Warlord, unclaimable. Everyone who has tried has been torn to pieces. The Khann uses it as a method of execution."
"You want to take me to be executed?" She asked.
"Job says to take you there, not to push you in the pit." He lifts the bottle at her, "Plus I'm gathering that you are special."
Lillian let out a little sigh. "Unfortunately that has always been the case."
Lillian's name was called by one of the servants of Sir August. Castor stood, "I'll be around, find me when things go south." And then he faded away into the background of the hanger.
He watched Lillian join with the Knight and his son. A Rellian priest was also present. It looked like they were really trying to speed this marriage along.
The pressure changed, there was a thunderous crack so loud it almost made his ears bleed.
A jump ship appeared over the bunker fortress setting the nearby anti air platforms wild.
Castor sent a message to Quanta, "Scrambled the striker-bombers. All units approach. Be ready to fire on my position."
The Bastard Son had arrived.