Felix grinned a little under his helmet as his new client – because yes, even though the contract still wasn't signed, Felix knew this man was sold the second he laid eyes on him – leaned back, expression somewhere between impressed and revolted.
This certainly wasn't the best part of the job. Sure, it was a nice excuse for him to detail his past accomplishments to someone who could appreciate the delicate artistry behind his work, but it was still relatively boring. No, the best part was the actual job, the sensation of warm blood, the sounds of desperation, the feeling of power and control. Nothing in the world could live up to that feeling, that absolute knowledge that he was the best.
But still. Someone had to continue finding work, and it sure as fuck wasn't going to be Locus. Guy couldn't hold the attention of a goddamn brick wall, let alone another person. Not a problem, though. Felix knew Locus' uses. Locus would stand in the background and look scary, enough to catch the attention of potential clients. Felix would seal the deal.
"And I'm telling you, the screaming," Felix said, spreading his arms out for emphasis as he paced back and forth across the front of the screen, utilizing the entire space. This was his stage, and Felix was nothing if not a performer. "You know, I think I actually have it…" He leaned forward and flipped through the datapad, as though he hadn't set up the pertinent recordings beforehand. "Bingo! Here it is." He leaned back, letting the audio recording play from one of his more…personal missions.
Locus looked away slightly when the screaming started. Pathetic. But his 'partner' was at least smart enough to make it look like he was shifting for comfort, and not out of some fucking sense of shame. Felix leaned back and tucked his hands behind his head, his grin widening.
"Please, please, oh god please, I'll do anything! Just don't…" The voice on the recording became a garbled mix of shrieks and sobs. Yeah, that one had been a lot of fun.
"That's enough, Felix," Locus growled from the shadows. Felix rolled his eyes and sighed, but leaned forward to stop the recording. He looked up at the screen, where his new employer's revulsion was slightly more pronounced. Perfect. That clip had gotten them better payments a dozen times already. And Locus hadn't wanted to record it.
"Well, there you have it," Felix said conversationally, giving a somewhat dismissive gesture to the datapad.
"I must admit," the man on the screen said in the accent Felix hadn't quite placed, "when I requested evidence that you would be able to handle the less pleasant aspects of this endeavor, I did not expect such a…convincing display."
Felix spread his arms. "We aim to please."
"Indeed." The man paused, reading something just offscreen.
"Sir," Locus said, stepping forward from the shadows. "What is our objective?" Felix chewed on his lower lip in frustration. How many fucking times did he have to tell Locus? Don't ask about the objective. Ever. Let the client bring it up. By presenting their skill sets and successful history, Felix was able to get himself and Locus much better contracts than other, lesser mercs could ever manage. The client had to appreciate their talents, had to fear them before they ever uttered a single number.
This man, though…Felix did his homework. Malcom Hargrove was not likely to fear them. But he was a man of business, a man who understood the necessities of sacrifice. Moral compunctions were unlikely to hinder a client such as Hargrove. Which is why Felix accepted his contact request.
"There is a small planet in the outer colonies," Hargrove explained to Locus, snatching away Felix's hope of maintaining command over the conversation. For how often Locus spoke about control, he certainly had a talent for losing it. "It was colonized in the mid twenty-fifth century, but the previous inhabitants left behind a wealth of technology." Felix listened as Hargrove explained theories on who the previous inhabitants were (Felix didn't care), why their technology was left behind (Felix cared even less), and the value such objects held for the right buyers (Felix suddenly snapped back to attention).
But he really started listening when Hargrove finally hit the real reason he was looking for mercenaries, and not just handing the job to one of the many UNSC units held tightly under his thumb. "The problem with procuring this technology is the inhabitants. The Great War led the UNSC to implement a far more regimented system regarding the acquisition of new technology, and the laws are extremely clear in regards to the proprietary rights of current inhabitants."
"You can't sell your shiny new guns until there's no one left on Chorus to claim ownership," Felix summed up.
Hargrove nodded. "Precisely."
Felix's shoulders dropped in disappointment. It was just going to be a standard hit-and-run. Sure, it would be on a larger scale, and that might make things more exciting. But he had been craving something a little more fun lately. This sterile, efficient, objective-based work they had been taking recently was starting to make him feel like freaking Locus. "Nuke the place from orbit, then," he said, not bothering to keep the boredom out of his voice. He was actually bored with the idea, but by showing how little he cared for the lives of hundreds of thousands (or was it millions? Had Hargrove said? Eh, it didn't really matter), he could probably demand a higher price.
"No," Hargrove said, and okay, so many Felix was a little surprised and more than a little hopeful at that. No? "The UNSC would be able to trace such destruction back to its source. They cannot be allowed to attribute the acquisition of my property as a hostile takeover. This requires a more…subtle approach."
Felix leaned forward. "Buddy," he said lightly, crossing his arms conversationally, "you realize we're mercenaries." Better not to let this guy get any ideas. They weren't taking a job if it was going to be nothing but a peaceful diplomacy. No fucking way. "'Hostile' is in our job description. You want the inhabitants to move? Or give up their claim? Hire an ambassador."
Hargrove bristled a little, and Locus gave an annoyed huff behind him. Oh please, you couldn't sweet talk your way past a goddamn infant. "I never said anything about leaving the inhabitants alive." Hargrove flicked his wrist toward something, and a barrage of information regarding Chorus flooded the screen. Felix skimmed; Locus would take the information in fully. No need to let his focus slip. "Chorus is currently in a state of unrest. Without UNSC oversight, the governance has been left up to the people."
"Doesn't look like they're doing a very good job," Felix remarked casually, gesturing toward a clip of a district-wide riot.
"No, they are not," Hargrove agreed. "With the right persuasions, and the right…talents, I imagine the poor people of Chorus may well find themselves in a particularly bloody civil war. One that could wipe out most of the population, especially if the different factions had access to highly trained operatives skilled in maintaining hostilities."
Oh-ho, okay. This could be a lot of fun. Locus stepped forward, the light from the screen finally fully illuminating his helmet. Still looked creepy as fuck. "This will be a large operation. We will require resources. Soldiers. Weapons."
"You need not worry about resources, gentlemen. I am more than able to provide you with whatever materials you may need."
"And the soldiers?"
Yeah, we don't need soldiers, bud. We need killers. Not that Locus knew the difference. "I have many ties with various military –"
"We bring our own men," Felix said, cutting him off. He glanced at Locus. "We have a few former partners looking for a nice paycheck. Gotta be able to trust the guns at your back, you know?" He said the last part more to Locus than to Hargrove.
"Very well," Hargrove agreed.
"Cool." Felix leaned back and tucked his arms behind his head casually. "Standard assassination rates don't really apply to planet-wide genocide, so let's start talking numbers."