[A/N: Finally found the time to finish this admittedly massive chapter. Hope you enjoy!-Doinstuff]
2: War-To-War Salesman
Felix eyed the two mounted turrets in crude pillboxes on either side of the road as the Warthog passed into the perimeter of the base. Once they had crossed the bridge, Kimball slowed the jeep to a safer speed. Soldiers began coming out of the buildings around the cars, trying to catch a glimpse of their new guest.
"Word travels fast around here," he said. Kimball said nothing in return, leaving Felix staring awkwardly at her for a few moments. He chuckled lightheartedly, hoping it would crack her tough exterior. It did him no good, even though he still couldn't see her face behind the silver visor, he knew she must have had a very displeased look on her face.
The jeeps pulled up to the building he had previously identified as the command center, and he jolted forward as Kimball slammed the brakes harder than necessary. She waved over two armed guards as Felix got out, and they relieved him of his rifle and sidearm once again. And after the sound of Kimball pulling back the charging handle of her rifle came from behind him, his defiance to surrender his knives quickly faded. After turning over his final throwing knife, Kimball walked out in front of him, and motioned for him to follow her up the short staircase and into the command structure.
Inside, the building was just a shoddy and unkempt as the outpost itself. It barely had any power, and the walls were beginning to accumulate a green mold.
"How do you people live like this?" Felix asked as he was led to the planning room.
"Don't judge us just because of this. Not all of our bases are this bad." Kimball said without looking back at him. The room's door failed to open on the first press of the button on the wall, but a swift punch by Kimball coaxed the switch to comply.
"Are they worse?" Felix inquired, a thick layer of mockery coating his words. Kimball whipped around and held up a finger as if to chastise him, but she simply sighed and her shoulders drooped.
"I will admit, I can't remember the last time I had a hot shower, or a meal that didn't come out of a foil packet." She regained what little poise the armor allowed for, and then led him through the door. Felix scanned the room, watching as the Republic troops and support staff ceased their tasks and stared at him. In the center of it all was a tall man, his chestnut hair beginning to gray, a trait also reflected in his short goatee. A scar ran diagonally across his left eye. Though there were some wrinkles in his face, his demeanor made him appear young and relaxed, but also stern and professional all at once. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he only looked up from the holoboard projecting data long enough to acknowledge the presence of his new guest, before resuming a discussion of tactics with a senior officer.
"I want Ayala and Veers to take an EOD squad and sweep the plains again. Our supply lines are in shambles as it is, we don't need McLellin and his lackeys setting up minefields along them," Thompson said, in the midst of troop assignments.
Kimball motioned for Felix to approach the man. "General Thompson, this is-"
The older man held up a finger. "One moment, Private Kimball," he snapped without looking, emphasizing her rank to assert his authority over her.
Vanessa swore to herself. She knew better than to interrupt the General, especially when he was in the war room. She had hoped the extenuating circumstances would have given her some reprieve, but no such luck.
"And send Gold Team up to Station Twelve. I want their eyes on the mountain pass in case the Feds try any of that shit they pulled on us at Delta-7 last month." The General said to the officer at his side. He parted both his hands over the holographic map, zooming in on a section of the mountain near the projection of the base they were currently occupying. Felix cocked his head to study the map. He had intended to use the mountain pass in question as one of his emergency evac routes if things went south with his New Republic sales pitch.
Even if failure isn't an option, it's always best to prepare for it. The addition of what was presumably a sniper team complicated that particular route, but he had several more ways out, with varying degrees of difficulty.
"Alright, that's it for now, Lieutenant. Get that shit done, or so help me, if we all get killed, I will haunt you." The General said with a warm smile and a pat of the young man's shoulder. The Lieutenant threw up a lazy salute, returned with an equally lackadaisical tip of the brow.
"Now then, let's see what we have here."
Thompson now moved to face Kimball and Felix, and his eyes narrowed for a moment as he looked Felix up and down, examining his armor. Felix was doing a similar visual inspection of the General's hardsuit. Much like his subordinates, General Thompson's armor was a veritable mix-and-match of components, all seemingly painted the same color, a drab tan. What made his armor stand apart, was the streaks of blue across the plating, and a helmet with a blue visor echoed that pattern. The "standard" New Republic helmets- such as they were-, were all equipped with a silver visor, and Felix wondered if Thompson knew how big of a target he was making himself by standing out from his juniors. Then his eyes turned to Kimball, and his brow furrowed.
"Vanessa, I believe you know the rules." He tapped the side of his head.
"Right. Sorry, sir." Vanessa reached up and popped the seals on her helmet, and removed it. Felix watched her as she did so, and was taken aback at how attractive he found her. But, since it was never a good idea to get involved with potential victims, a visual inspection was as far as he was willing to go. Thompson turned his gaze to Felix.
"You too, son. I like my people to feel comfortable in my presence. Direct eye contact is a means to that end. If my men can see my face, they know that when I give them shit, that it's only because I care. And it helps to keep us all familiar with each other."
"It also makes people easy to read. To guess their intentions, right?" Felix asked.
"Well, shit. I guess you're not stupid. Regardless, the only way I'll even listen to what you have to say, is if you take that bucket off, and show me them eyeballs." The General leaned against a console behind him. "Your call, Mr. Loman."
This hadn't been a part of his plan, but he had no choice. After a moment's hesitation, Felix pressed up against the two thumb seals on his own helmet, and raised it up and off. "The name's Felix though." He stated, his brown eyes meeting the General's blues. "And I'd appreciate it if we dispensed with the classic literature references."
"Fair enough, kid. What say we cut out the bullshit altogether? Our young Ms. Kimball here tells me you have something I want?"
Jesus, this guy and his clichés. Well, no harm in playing along, Felix thought, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.
"No, I have something you need. May I?" He pointed to the pouch on his chestplate.
"By all means." The General warmly replied, clearly not worried about concealed weapons. Felix, not planning any tricks at the moment, produced the data chip he had shown Kimball earlier, and held it up so the General could see. Thompson passed him a datapad, and Felix loaded the chip into it.
"And that's just the tip of the proverbial iceberg." Felix added, trying to evoke some response from the resistance leader. Thompson simply ignored the remark, skimming through the data. Stockpiles of weapons, several assorted light vehicles, and a figurative mountain of ammunition, but the thing that caught the General's eye the most was the food. Not the dehydrated, foil-sealed swill he and his men had been forced to live off of for weeks, but real, fresh produce and meats. His troops were weary and hungry, and if this merc was really able to procure these curios on a regular basis, it might just be the edge that he needed to push back against the Federal Army.
"Where exactly did all of this come from? And how do I know you're not taking me for a ride?" The General asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked Felix's way.
"Well, the food and guns come courtesy of your friends in the Federal Army. I've been raiding their supply depots for a few weeks, now. Building my inventory, so to speak. Most of that I actually acquired all at once, if you'll believe it." Felix paced around the circular holotable that Thompson had been poring over earlier, never breaking eye contact with the older man.
"Uh-huh… and the vehicles? You really expect me to believe that one man stole six Warthogs and a Mongoose in one raid?" General Thompson placed the datapad on the table and folded his arms, grilling Felix as he moved.
"Of course not. The jeeps and ATV were my getaway vehicles, also stolen from the Feds. I figured it wouldn't hurt to sweeten the deal."
"Right. Now let me ask you something else: What do you expect to get out of all this? Private Kimball said you didn't exactly make it sound like you were our Secret Santa." Thompson leaned forward and placed both his hands on the table as he spoke.
"She's a smart young woman." Felix retorted.
"Indeed. But that still doesn't answer my question, son. What do I need to give you to get these supplies?"
"Cash is king, right?" Felix smirked.
"Well, then you're lookin' at a kingdom with an empty throne."
"Shame," Felix said, faking resignation. "Well then, thank you for your time." He tucked his helmet under his arm, and began to head towards the door.
"Wait. Is there any chance of bartering with you?" Thompson asked, trying to hide the desperation in his voice. Felix stopped at the door, and a sly grin crossed his face.
Gotcha. He spun back around, and leaned against the rusty doorframe.
"As it just so happens, I've heard rumors that Chorus is home to all sorts of old alien relics leftover from the Great War. That was the whole reason I came to this planet in the first place."
"A treasure hunter at heart, eh?" Thompson chuckled. "Well, you heard right. Damn split-lips left a shitload of weaponry and tech behind."
Kimball moved to stand side-by-side with the General. "Yeah, but none of it works. The Covenant did something to them that rendered them all broken or inoperable. The same goes for all those structures all over the planet. Before the civil war, they were all tourist traps."
Felix stood back up to his full height. "Well, that doesn't matter to collectors. As long as it's weird and shiny, they'll pay good money for those relics."
"As much as we need your supplies, trading those antiques to you isn't a fair deal for us, given the value." Thompson argued, but Felix saw right through his lie.
You were more than happy to trade with the other arms dealers in the past, but since you know I can fight, you want more, don't you? Everyone has their price, I suppose.
Felix took two steps toward the rebels. "I think I see where this is going, so why don't we cut to the chase? Not only will I continue to bring in supplies for you on a regular basis, I'll also sign on with your army as a freelancer. I just so happen to have a military background, and I've commanded men in the field before. And judging by what I've seen of your people so far, they need all the help they can get. No offense." He eyed Kimball at that last part. She said nothing in return.
"I take it that means you don't want to start as Private and work your way up?" Thompson joked.
"Trust me, sir. I will be much more effective at giving orders, rather than taking them. Except from you, of course." Felix stroked the General's ego with his last remark. He waited patiently as the older man pondered the offer.
"And if I decline, what's to stop you from taking this offer to the Federal Army?"
Felix laughed aloud. "You really think they would react well to some guy strolling into their HQ and offering to sell them back their own supplies? Besides, if we're being serious here, I have to say that I respect the absolute hell out of your cause. I don't fully agree with it, but your men seem to have more integrity than those animals hunkered down in Armonia. If there was ever a side to take in this war, this is it."
Ellis, who had kept his distance from Felix and the others, spoke up from his chair near a computer terminal. "Hell, no argument there. Them Fed bastards woulda shot you dead if they'da found you creepin' around outside one of their bases."
"Which brings up a big concern of mine," Kimball said, hands on her hips.
"Which is?" Felix inquired.
"For someone who claims that he infiltrated multiple enemy bases, we caught you pretty easily." She stared daggers at him.
Felix smiled. "The only reason you found me, is because I wanted you too. I've been scouting out this location for weeks, completely undetected. I needed to know how you guys operated before I brought this offer to the table."
Kimball's glare narrowed even further. "I think you're full of shit."
The General sighed. "As much as I hate dragging out these negotiations, I'm afraid she's got a point. Can you prove you were here for as long as you say?"
Felix opened a hardcase on his thigh. "Well, I suppose you've got me there." He produced a green rubber ball from the case, and showed it to Kimball.
"Unless of course, this is your New Mombasa Bossanova Bosses Limited Edition, 15th Season Commemorative Stress-Relief Grifball replica?" He stated with false inquisitiveness.
"Th—That went missing from my quarters two weeks ago, I thought Ellis took it."
"Yeah, and she beat the shit out of me over that! I told ya I didn't take it!" Ellis chided. Felix tossed the ball underhanded back to its owner.
"I swiped that on my second day here." He looked back at Thompson. "Need I say more, or do we have a deal?"
The General mulled over his options for a few more seconds, and then extended his hand.
"Felix, welcome to the New Republic." The mercenary offered his own, and one firm handshake later, terms were being drawn up.
"Now then, you said these supplies are hidden?"
"Yes sir, and if you have some Pelicans to spare, I can take some men out to my secure location to bring it all back. I'll need a few who can drive Warthogs, as well."
"Right. Kimball, you and Ellis prep a squad and go with him." Kimball saluted, and led Felix to the landing pad. Within minutes, several Republic troops were assembled on the pad, waiting for the two Pelicans to fuel up. Felix muted his external speaker, and switched his radio frequency to the secure channel used by Control.
"Control, it's Felix. I'm in. Phase One is complete."
"Wonderful news, Felix. We shall proceed with Phase Two." The filtered voice replied.
"Roger that, Control. I'll radio in the next time I'm alone."
A third voice entered the conversation. "Control, this is Locus. Have received confirmation of Phase One. Commencing Phase Two." As Locus finished speaking, Felix heard the ambient noise around his partner: the warbling sighs of a man about to faint, and the crack of gloved fist against bone. Felix chuckled to himself.
I guess he decided on the 'direct approach.'