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   Chapter 81 No.81

The Galaxii Series Omnibus 1 By Christina Engela Characters: 5259

Updated: 2018-06-29 19:02

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Elsewhere again, Hanson and Casey had found a corner café and sat there for about an hour. Casey had collected a couple of local magazines and newspapers, from a street-side news stall and stashed them in a cheap back pack he'd bought from a vendor because it had a skull and cross bones logo on it and he thought it was cool. Copies of "Pirate Monthly", "The Corsair" (a daily newspaper), "Creative Buccaneering" and "Tortuga News" lay inside it. There was a good view of the street from the café, which gave them a vantage point to witness seven muggings, all with the same victim and the same mugger. At first, they thought this was strange, but soon it became clear that each time a different passer-by intervened (or joined in), he was beset upon by four maniacs with baseball bats who had been waiting around the corner. Hanson filed this under "101 reasons not to be a do-gooder on Meradinis", and nudged Casey. It was time to move on.

They walked on, recording everything they saw with their portacams. There was a western theme style bar up ahead, with saloon type swing doors with the typical ventilation slots. They were made of metal, not wood, and Hanson noticed several large caliber bullet holes and assorted dents in them. Before the pair even drew level with the doorway, the swing doors parted violently as two men flew past in a wrestling hold, rolled, bounced – and landed in the gutter. Each of them had a knife, and seemed to be looking for a good place to plant it. Hanson and Casey found themselves staring, although no-one else obviously car

this – so some other mode of transport was needed, and desperately! He grunted with effort – Mykl was no lightweight! Blachart had done all he could, under the circumstances. He'd done his best with what he had – which was very little; he didn't think there were any broken bones or serious damage to his internal organs, but as expected, blood loss combined with shock seemed to have knocked Mykl flat.

"So much for not attracting attention!" He joked, grunting, letting his load sag to the ground again. Time for a rest – a short one. Luckily for them, Mykl had chosen a machine-pistol with a full-auto option. It went through ammo faster than a V12 went through a tank of gas, but it had saved their asses. He looked at his silent, motionless companion. Bugger surveillance, he thought. Mykl's eyes were closed and his head lolled to one side, ending the practical usefulness of his portacam. His own was still recording, bearing witness to all he saw, and did – including saving this Terran officer's ass. Which was quite comely, he thought.

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