Stars of The Allmaker: Payten I

War is on the horizon. At the behest of the Military Governor of The Republic, Payten is sent to retrieve vital intelligence from Congressman and Crime Boss Zalador Melinkov.

Vinko’s Palace, Cristvoske, Ordinis District

Being sent to a shady game of handshakes with crooked congressmen wasn’t Payten’s idea of a crucial mission for the survival of the Republic. But Payten wasn’t one to argue with his superiors, it was thanks to them The Republic continued living. The Military Governor of The Republic had selected Payten specifically for this vital task, knowing Payten as an uncompromising AOC agent. AOC being the Advanced Operations & Communications Division of the Republic Defense Army. At first Payten was reluctant to accept the mission, quite enjoying serving as a personal body guard for the president. But when the Military Governor himself requested Payten for a mission, he couldn’t say no. Due to the current political climate Payten realized he was needed to serve his country.

Payten Alexander Collins sat at a high class bar, standing out in a blue leather jacket. He was just over six feet, well built with wavy dirty blonde hair. In his youth Payten enjoyed growing it out, wearing band shirts and drinking beer with friends. Ever since joining the armed forces he became more uniformed, clean cut and focused. That was six years ago now, when Payten had first graduated from Ordinis Technical. At times Payten wondered where he would be if he hadn’t joined the army, it made up so much of who he was today. To think eight years ago Payten didn’t want anything to do with war, even going as far as hiding out in a cottage to avoid conscription. But all that changed when The Republic called upon all honest men and women to serve Reffelda. Payten’s father had become a card carrying advocate of The Party for the Republic, as well as a notable businessman with a network of wealthy individuals. One such individual was the very man Payten was here to meet, the Congressman of Cristvoske. Leaving Ordinis was somewhat melancholic, Payten’s father was ready to call everybody on his rolodex when he found out. The sway of the rubber duck oligarch couldn’t change the rigid mind of Military Governor Kane Myvorth. Though this crucial mission appeared to be a straightforward point a to point b.

The Republic was in need of an ancient map of Mount Rurik, a vast system of tunnels and mine deposits remained beneath the mountain. The tunnels connected to the old city of Dragnoske, where rebellious leaders were raising their flags in a war of secession. A map of the old mines was scarce around Reffelda, an accurate one that is. So many old chambers centuries past, caverns unexplored. It was said trillions of ore’s worth of minerals still laid beneath the mountain chain. Regaining that city beneath their blue flag of liberty was of the upmost importance. Once this map was retrieved Payten expected the army would be sent in without delay. Eager to avenge Congressman Viktor Vetrov, who was executed by House Olferre. Primitive fools, most people in that region were known to be barbarians, full beards and full bellies. Though with the recent famine their bellies probably weren’t too full. Payten grimaced, the presence of radicals was a stain on the region. He had read about the old city of Dragnoske during his schooling at Ordinis State University, detailing the founding of the city to be founded near a thousand years ago. So many secrets were hidden there, Payten wondered if retaking the city was The Republic’s only intension for Dragnoske.

Payten felt somewhat out of place, wearing a bullet proof vest beneath his leather jacket in this swanky den. Though it was the best idea, given the instability. Payten took in a breath, enjoying the slow musical ensemble playing on a loud record player. The owners of Vinko’s Palace wasted no expense in creating a lavish and prestigious lounge for the best of Cristvoske. The floor was carpeted in maroon red, the walls, ceiling and bar were completely styled in shining gold paint. A pool of colorful characters decorated the entire establishment, being the center of fine life in Cristvoske and the Sunshine Gulf. A group of well off high rollers were enjoying themselves at the craps table, all wearing three piece suits and large grins. Payten was ready to roll his eyes every time they drunkenly cheered their own success. Inside here people won thousands, while thousands outside lost everything. Payten admitted he was a bit pessimistic, ever since he stepped foot in this inaptly named city of the sun. Few buildings had been fully illuminated from the view of Payten’s ferry ride, only a few hotels and the famous Ferris wheel of Cristvoske were visible.

It seemed thousands were out on the street, even more waiting to catch a ferry ride out of the city or paying some smuggler to take them away. Insurgency was spreading its weeds throughout the glavna region, and had finally reached the agricultural center of Cristvoske. Payten raised his head to the bartender, who had finally arrived with his drink. A simple glass of water, the bartender couldn’t have looked at Payten any more contemptuously for ordering it. After all he was still on duty, even if this was a straightforward mission. Get in, get out. Payten was ready to leave this city as soon as he stepped into it. A couple of lovely young ladies were conversing at the bar, Payten bored of waiting for his rendezvous decided to listen in. We’ll have to catch the next show at Zubarev’s, it’s been forever. They were dressed in the most expensive fashion, and perfumed in the same. Everyone here came from some type of money, some were honest and others were less so. You can always tell a bird by the way it flaps its wings, Payten remembered something his mother said. Payten turned around, drinking his water as he assessed the room. Everyone here seemed quite gay, oblivious to the issues outside the building. Old men from Ordinis dined on the best steak, and their wives sipped modestly at wine from the vineyards of Parashia. About fifty miles from here an army of ten thousand savages were shining their knives. “Two shots of Vodka.” Stepping toward the bar was a less than affable gentlemen, Konstantin Ladislasovich Melinkov. He was the nephew of the Congressman, and the son of the most powerful crime boss on planet Reffelda. Payten knew there was corruption in The Republic, it was human nature to be greedy after all, and everyone knew that. The extent of that corruption didn’t interest Payten, as long as the moral compass of The Republic was right.
However the moral compass of the Melinkov Crime Family was dubious, Konstantin here was a typical product of the corruption in Reffelda. Serving his family as a tough guy, and without a doubt connected to the web of wealth which connected the politicians of Reffelda. He was slightly taller than Payten by an inch, wearing a dark blue suit with a wine colored tie. His shiny silver hair jelled back, he’d be considered handsome if it wasn’t for that scar across his left cheek.

“What are you drinking?” Konstantin looked at Payten’s glass of water with a playful grin. The bartender standing by Konstantin’s every movement and word. “Make that four, somebody needs to catch up.” Without any hint of tension Payten replied “Sounds fine.” Two shots of vodka arrived, Konstantin aggressively passed two over to Payten. Payten knew these thugs tested men by drinking, Payten was fine to keep up, two shots and nothing else. Konstantin leaned against the bar, everyone averting their eyes at the sight of him holding his shot glass. Everyone in Cristvoske feared his family, more so lately. Cristvoske was the agricultural center of the Ordinis District, responsible for filling the markets with fresh produce. However, the supermarkets of some cities were noticeably empty. This was due to mismanagement at various levels of the agricultural industry, as well as blatant corruption and disregard for proper process. In recent weeks the death toll had reached into the hundreds of thousands. When the crisis first began the government pointed the finger at the Congressman of Dovruke, who was a known radical and member of the opposition. While many others pointed the finger at the Congressman of Cristvoske, Zalador Vinkovich Melinkov, who refused humanitarian aid to the region. Critics claimed it was because those in the region were supporters of the political opposition. One rebel newspaper even claimed Zalador had said the reds think managing an industry of such size is easy work, they can barely manage their own towns.

“Drink Agent, it will be a long night.” Konstantin took his shot

Payten curled his lip, wondering how Konstantin felt about the famine. The glavna famine was one of the reasons the chateau protest happened, many in the region felt The Republic didn’t give a damn about them. When Payten first arrived in Cristvoske he saw the damage for himself, hundreds in food lines, vast crowds of hungry masses. No wonder they burned the chateau, Payten knew any man could be driven to wickedness, if the right pressure was applied. They shall think their dark deeds are righteous, Payten remembered a verse from the Sacred Scrolls. The shootout at the chateau engulfed the district in violence and hate. Radicals across the Glavna Region rising up to form their own separatist state.

Saying it was troubling would be an understatement, everybody knew how dangerous these people were. Sympathizers of the former People’s Imperium, lovers of the bear family House Olferre and peasants who wanted more corn. Once the lavish presidential estate was engulfed in flames, Payten knew it was only a matter of time until he was called upon. Especially since President Ronald Carr went into hiding, ever since the Chateau protest. The media said he was up north with his family, enjoying ski slopes and warm milk. Payten was unsure what the truth was. Ronald being absent meant Payten was in need of work. And so Kane Myvorth tasked Payten to meet with Congressman Melinkov. Payten was assured it was because he was the best man for the job. Not because he was known as an uncompromising soldier, but because Payten’s father had a good relationship with the Congressman. Better to send somebody who gave off a good impression, rather than a faceless mongrel from the barracks. Payten was happy to oblige, despite wishing he could be doing something more. He figured his first mission would be to track down the perpetrators of the Chateau immolation.
Luckily Payten hadn’t known any of the deceased personally, aside from Private Kleon Vulfgar, one of the fifty soldiers who perished. You’ll be avenged, Payten thought with determination. Fredrick Krauser was the one responsible, the former Commander of the Ordinis District who went rogue. Fredrick was a founding member of the Reffelda First Party, fools who wore furry hats and sang song of old times past. Payten favored looking to the future, of the new Reffelda they lived in. That feeling was shared with most today who held power, like Congressman Melinkov who Payten was here to visit. Though it was clear to Payten that Melinkov needed replacing, being connected to nefarious racketeering and other ill-gotten gains. He was obviously to blame for what happened in the Glavna region, the people who lived there certainly felt as much. Though replacing him didn’t seem to be on the The Republic’s agenda, as Payten was here to negotiate his next term of office.

“We both serve somebody agent, the difference is they pay me well.” Konstantin took his shot, brandishing a few rings on his scar ridden hand. Payten neglected to bite the comment, instead smiling in agreement. Payten lived quite well, he didn’t need more. His father was after all a well-connected man, and he didn’t need to build a criminal empire like Konstantin’s father. What Dorian Collins did do was found a successful toy company eight years ago. During the political chaos of what became known as the collapse of the People’s Imperium, Dorian found opportunity and began selling imported rubber ducks from his Ordinis apartment. Some well off friend in Parashia manufactured them, and Dorian provided a ripe marketplace. His wealth eventually earned him a seat at more prestigious tables, such as here at Vinko’s Palace. This was in fact the fifth time Payten had been here. The first three were with his father, the fourth was with his old field partner Arianna Lychanov.

The two had worked together since Payten enlisted in the service, even serving together during the Tortovick Intervention, where so many lives had been lost. Fighting in that inferno of hate was nothing short of a catastrophe. Having friends close by made it easier, Payten kept reminding himself he was fighting for what was right. The blue flag shining in the sky, the towers of tomorrow being built and the enemies of yesterday forgotten. Payten missed that, that sense of comradery. The security team for the president was fine enough, but they had a certain rigidness to them. Not like Arianna, Payten felt like he could really be himself around her.
Payten missed her, in truth the memory of being here with her was something he preferred to forget. It was before the war, when the most dangerous thing in the district was crime. The two had just finished a mission in Ordinis Woods, and decided to celebrate before returning to Ordinis. Payten still remembered her standing in the bathroom doorway wearing black lingerie, her long brunette hair perfectly sitting on her shoulders. Though she wasn’t interested in anything else, and that hurt Payten, but he didn’t let that stop him from remaining friends with her. Distant friends, the last Payten heard from her was six months ago. Supposedly getting a fancy promotion at the side of the Military Governor.

Konstantin ordered two more shots for himself “Agent Collins you are a quiet individual, this must mean you have a lot to say…” Konstantin took a shot, wiping a bit of spittle from his chin with the bridge of thumb. “So?”

“So.” Payten grabbed at his second shot, slamming it back while he decided how to reply “So, I’m here to meet your uncle.”

“That’s right, your father knows him well.” Konstantin said

“That so?” Payten asked with hesitation. Payten wasn’t interested in knowing how his father was connected to these people. Payten was fine being ignorant, he knew his father was involved in the highest levels of business, corruption came with the profession. “Does your uncle enjoy bubble baths?” Payten asked, trying to keep the mood light.

“Just so.” Konstantin snickered “And your father enjoys money. Don’t fool yourself, you’re no different than I am.” Konstantin pointed his finger at Payten “The only difference between a businessman and a gangster is the size of their wallet. No delusions of honor, no excuses. We are all living off the carcass of the beast, the old country.” Standing there with Konstantin, Payten began to relive the past eight years. How everything changed overnight, and how nobody seemed to care. The entire country was desperate for a better tomorrow, they didn’t care how they got there anymore. They had turned to people like Konstantin and his family of gangsters. To a regular person Payten could see how there was no distinction between somebody like him and somebody like Konstantin. But Payten knew he wasn’t like Konstantin. Payten served his country he didn’t serve himself. Konstantin seemed bothered by something, his eyes glued to the bar, they suddenly sprang to Payten, frigid blue. “The oligarchs who control our country don’t give a single ore to the sick, the hungry, or the orphans. They are worse than parasites. The so called mafia bosses donate to worthy causes, they help their community. So tell me, who is the real criminal?”

Payten twisted his face, as if he were considering the thought “Interesting point.” Payten however knew these elements all too well. Serving as a street officer for some time, he knew that these groups only took care of their own. Anybody outside of their close knit organization were free range cattle, and anybody who stepped out of their group were up for grabs as well. Payten was unsure what honor there was in that. Most thieves had a certain code they lived by, to keep them sane. Konstantin moved closer to Payten “You know my uncle has made this city grand, nobody knows it like him. He has been watching over her for twenty seven years.”

“That’s quite a long time, isn’t he tired?” Payten raised a brow, but realized he may have hit a cord

“Tired?” Konstantin was confused “Tired of seeing fools from Dovruke and Dragnoske in the streets for one. Painting their dirty graffiti on our walls.”

Payten recalled one such masterpiece when he arrived at the hotel. A large billboard having usually sat across from Vinko’s Palace, showing the once proud face of Zalador Melinkov in a tan suit. His congressional slogan Live Great in the New Reffelda. Some Cristvoske residents weren’t too fond of the billboard and decided to rewrite it as Die young in the New Reffelda, painting red eyes on the Congressman. If Payten hadn’t been grim before seeing that, he certainly was afterwards. The criminal elements of The Melinkov Crime Family were notorious. Not just on Reffelda, but off world as well. Ladislas Melinkov had gangs on the misty planet of Shulkeda and their moons. On the pirate moon Geo-Kathal they were there, selling arms to the locals and creating trouble. But their influence was strongest here on Reffelda, Ladislas having large control over Crown Oil, the biggest energy exporter on the planet. Graffiti was clearly the last thing the government should be worrying about.
“Yes, yes I hear that graffiti is messy.” Payten grinned, remembering when he used to graffiti destroyed tanks during his tour in the Tortov Isles. The vodka Payten had consumed barely affected him, despite it likely being the best on the market. Payten wondered what Congressman Melinkov was doing, and why this rendezvous was being delayed. Konstantin looked past Payten and grinned, realizing he saw somebody he knew. He departed, leaving Payten once again guessing. Once this is done where is Kane sending me? Out to get donuts? Payten felt his skills were being wasted. He wasn’t one to wine and dine clients. In fact most of the women Payten dated would say he was ill suited to such a task. Payten would much rather be on the frontlines, in Ordinis Woods where militants were multiplying like maggots. The heart of Ordinis Woods was cut open, Fort Dolia. It was the largest Republic stronghold in the region, its fall spelt disaster for it’s surroundings. Cristvoske would be next, then maybe Dragorskii…Cristgorod. The Congressman of Cristgorod was a populist and known affiliate of Fredrick Krauser, Joseph Moore was his name. Payten had crossed paths with him once at a dinner party, filling up on finger foods. Payten feared the day Joseph revealed his true colors, perhaps declare support for the separatists or even launch a new Chateau esque disaster. Payten recalled the Congressman’s words on the famine ravaging the river side.

We all know who is to blame for this catastrophe, and it isn’t my colleague in Dovruke. Cristgorod demands swift and immediate action to mend these broken bones. If this administration will not act, the insurgency will be prolonged, and the people will have no choice but to seek an alternative.

Trouble, trouble indeed. He seemed to be trying to keep peace and not allow his city to fall into their hands. Once the president is back everything will be set right, he was due to be re-elected soon after all. Payten’s father always said you never do anything until after the election. Payten gripped his glass of water, standing tall and observing the crowd. Konstantin was still busy talking up some thugs, looking to be telling a boisterous story judging by the way he waved his arms around. A little bit of time passed as Payten people watched. Watching everyone at their leisure made Payten slightly annoyed. One because he wished he could be on the ground, fighting, cutting down the enemy. And because he wished he could relax, join in. If Payten’s friend Danilla were here maybe he’d be more willing. But Payten was on the clock, and time was ticking.

“Payten!” Konstantin came forward, waving his hand as if Payten were a dog he could call. Stepping over he smacked Payten on the arm, leading him out of the bar. Payten could smell liquor heavy on Konstantin, clearly he had a bit more than two shots of vodka. “They’re ready to see you.” Konstantin informed Payten without facing him, studying guests coming and going in the lobby. It was quite a kingly type of place, the lobby itself designed much like an old world ball room. No doubt many great events were hosted here. One Payten recalled was a Party for the Republic fundraiser, that was one he attended with his father. Come on, Konstantin whispered and began leading Payten towards the stairwell. The elevator towards the executive floor was there, and Payten would finally meet with Melinkov.

“Kostya!” A thick accent alerted Konstantin, a woman’s voice. He stopped and turned over to the lobby reception, where his Aunty Alice Melinkov was standing. She wore a white dress and thick white fur coat, white gloves as well. She kissed goodbye to a couple of friends, stepping over to Konstantin and Payten. This was the wife of Congressman Melinkov, and the sister in law to the most powerful mob boss on the planet. Though by glancing at her one wouldn’t think she’d associate with such rabble. Alice appeared quite kind, both in appearance and reputation.
Known for raising charity for such causes as extinct wildlife, child malnutrition and poverty. Konstantin approached his aunt, kissing both her cheeks. “Sorry Aunty Alice.” Konstantin mumbled drunkenly “We were just in the lounge.”

Alice briefly cringed her nose, smelling the liquor. “Ah Agent Collins. I must say I’m rather annoyed with you.” Alice flared her eyes playfully “Keeping my husband so busy, we are meant for the theatre any minute now.”

Konstantin jumped in “Yes of course, this meeting has been multi layered, very long, and very boring.”

“The only thing multi layered I need is a cake from the theatre buffet” Alice poofed, stepping over to Payten rather close. “You’re so handsome, nothing like your father.” Alice chuckled. Seeing her much closer Payten couldn’t believe this woman was forty one, or was a mother of two. The wealth of Reffelda keeps them young, Payten imagined his old friend Kleon saying. He always was very resentful of the oligarchs of Reffelda and their criminal connections. “Anyway, I wait no longer, tell your uncle the curtain has risen.” Alice fluttered a hand fan out theatrically, batting her eyes with equal vitality.

“Yes, yes.” Konstantin half grinned

Alice soon left the lobby, waving her hand to Payten playfully. Let’s go, Konstantin pointed forwards. The two men climbed the red carpeted stairwell, Konstantin gripping the white marble handrail with leisure, it seemed he had enjoyed his drinks a bit too much. Though he had good reason, Konstantin was no fool, quite unlike the highbrow socialites of Vinko’s Palace. Konstantin knew that trouble was on the horizon, quite literally the bandits of Dragnoske were near. No doubt he feared they may overtake the armies of The Republic which were guarding Cristvoske. Two ladies with swan long necks stepped past Konstantin, and he leered indiscreetly. “You sure you won’t stay longer Agent?” Konstantin seemed saddened at the prospect of losing Payten, perhaps he got lonely here.

“I’m on the clock.” Payten said dryly. It was true, Payten had a team of handlers waiting at the docks. Aside that, Payten had no intension of lingering and no hunger for lecherous activity. Payten’s only mistress was liberty. Liberty At Any Cost, Payten remembered a popular credo of The Republic armies. Payten was the first to reach the top of the stairs, and immediately went towards the executive elevator which was awaiting the two. A short monkey sized man in a bellhop uniform waiting by. Konstantin caught up and entered the elevator, Payten soon after. The bellhop pressed a button, and the door shut, leaving the two to ascend towards the office of Congressman Melinkov.

Payten could tell that Konstantin was worried, this meeting with Payten would more or less decide the course of events for Cristvoske. As long as Zalador held up his end of the bargain, The Republic would defend him, his wealth, Cristvoske and everything in-between. The two soon reached the executive floor, where only a few suites resided, the largest being Congressman Melinkov’s. Payten’s father had boasted he had a suite here for special occasions, soon enough Payten had seen it for himself. Payten’s mother Gwenna never saw the lavish rooms, marble arches and priceless art. No, the only women Dorian brought here were nameless. That was until he supposedly married the one, Payten still hadn’t met the lass.
Two golem like men in grey suits were guarding a door at the end of the hallway, directly facing the elevator. Payten stepped forward with determination, Konstantin observing the henchmen with contempt. The first security guard stopped Payten with a gentle hand raise. Konstantin shoved past the hand, banging on the door. “Uncle Zalador!” Konstantin pounded again. The door opened abruptly, shocking both Payten and Konstantin. Holding the door partway was Ivan Zvonimir, the deputy congressman of Cristvoske. Payten remembered hearing from his father that Ivan had a brief stint in the Tortovick Intervention, luckily getting a comfy administration gig at Fort Dolia, and now a political position. Quite the ladder climber, Dorian had remarked. “What are you some kind of animal?” Ivan hissed “You’re pissed on vodka again.” Ivan’s face tensed, his thinning blonde hair aging him quite a bit. His facial hair was trimmed and neat, almost too trimmed. His ice cold eyes and dark blonde hair gave away his Tsaryic ethnicity. His voice was gruff and always sounded like he was coughing. Stress lines were apparent on his face as well, Payten could tell a lot seemed to be weighing on this man. “I, am fine.” Konstantin mumbled “I was beeped, so my uncle is ready.”

Ivan looked past Konstantin, displeased he was here. His eyes caught Payten with relief, his entire face seemed to change when seeing Payten. As if the reality of this deal had finally become real. Ivan opened the door wider, Konstantin found his chance and entered the next hallway. Payten stepped forward to Ivan, respectfully extending his hand. “The prodigal son and prized Agent, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Ivan shook Payten’s hand

“I hope this deal can live up to expectations sir.” Payten said


“The fate of this city relies on it.” Ivan led Payten inside the next hallway, which led to the suite of Zalador Melinkov. It was a short hallway, coffee colored with a couple of upholstered couches and striking canvases. One piece was of the wastelands of Serpentstar Lookout, a pirate hideout on the dusty moon known as Geo-Kathal. The frame depicted a wasteland of ash, a large mammoth skull half buried, a gentlemen sitting in the foreground wearing a moss green robe. His fist smashed into the ash, his face half covered.

It was quite a dreary piece, Payten wondered why Zalador had it. Konstantin had his face resting on the next door, looking ready to fall asleep. “Agent Collins.” Ivan glanced at Konstantin with momentary contempt “These are…these are times…of great chaos.” Ivan led Payten towards the door with a gentle arm “Nine years ago Cristvoske wouldn’t have to fear for its life, wondering if Ordinis would come to the rescue.” Payten shrugged, not caring to discuss politics, he was here to do a job. Military Governor Kane Myvorth was in need of a Map of Mount Rurik. Zalador was willing to supply it, and got something out of it.

Ivan seemed to be suggesting something, does he think Kane wouldn’t come if Zalador withheld the map? Payten admitted there was probably a lot of elements at play here which were unbeknownst to him.
Money sliding in and out of certain pockets, contracts going to different companies. The Melinkov Crime Family as it was known, controlled a large portion of organized crime and had a certain blessing from the government. Better the devil you know than the one you don’t, Payten had figured. Payten realized Ivan wanted a reply “The fate of the district is in the balance, not just Cristvoske.” Payten said “That map is the key, the key to victory, the key to-”

“I’ll take a key of coke if you got it.” The door opened widely, revealing the equally wide grin of Zalador Vinkovich Melinkov. Konstantin leaning against the door frame, twitching his eyes open. Zalador wore tan pants and a tucked in dress shirt, looking quite relaxed. He was a mink of a man with short white hair, a close shaven face and a jovial domineer. “Ivan, go on inside and make us all some drinks.” Payten knew he couldn’t refuse a drink here, or risk letting the deal go sideways. Ivan entered past the Congressman into the office, which Payten could see was completely walnut wood with large glass cases of books. Payten figured Zalador was too busy to have read all of those. Zalador smiled, turning to his nephew Konstantin who had his head bent over, looking down on Zalador like a half dead hyena. In a quick playful motion, Zalador smacked Konstantin on the cheek. Konstantin reacting with a slur. His uncle grabbed him by the shoulder “Don’t abuse your drink privileges or you’ll put this place out of business.” He slapped Konstantin again, this time with less power and a chuckle. “Get out of here, go see those guys about the Soffian mussels.”

“Yes, yes…” Konstantin began to step away

Zalador seemed bothered by that “Hey!” Konstantin turned back confused, returning to his uncle. Zalador had his eyes squinted, as if he was ready to dish out something else. But then he pulled in his nephew for a homely hug, as if it would be their last. Zalador seemed to be putting on a brave face for those around him, but he must have been more worried than Konstantin. Zalador soon dismissed his nephew with a slap on the back and a slam of a door. A chair found Payten’s behind, and a drink in his hand. Payten looked at the drink with melancholy and nostalgia. Ivan clinked his glass with Payten’s “Your favorite isn’t it? Your father told me.” It was an Orange Relic, a mix of brown liquors and an orange wedge. Growing up Payten’s father would ask his son to mix him a drink, soon enough Payten began making two. “It is.” Payten took a modest sip. Payten exhaled quietly, hoping this meeting would be quick. After all he was only grabbing what was needed and departing. Unless he thinks he can get something else out of it. Though Payten was unsure if groveling was in Zalador’s best interests. Sure he had the map, but his life and his city were in the balance.

Zalador grabbed a tan suit jacket off of a hook, swinging it on in a quick motion before sitting behind his large oak desk. “So Agent, we appreciate you coming.” Zalador reached his hand out and Ivan placed a drink in it. “Given well, the climate.” Zalador sipped his drink nervously, maintaining eye contact with Payten. Ivan leaned against a book case, enjoying his drink. Taking a better look at him now Payten could tell he had a layer of sweat across his grim gaunt face. Ivan smacked some lint off his knee, making enough noise that he had the room’s attention. “Doesn’t seem real does it? A couple months ago we were relaxing in the gulf, with your father.” Ivan raised his drink to Payten “That boat is a thing of beauty.” Ivan walked over to a framed photo of the boat in question. In fact it was a massive luxury yacht, the photo depicted Congressman Melinkov with his brother Ladislas Melinkov relaxing on the bow.

“Yes, a thing like that.” Zalador seemed annoyed Ivan was talking about the boat, likely he missed those simple times. When his power was unquestionable, when he didn’t have to fear the sun rise. Zalador winced his mouth, his eyes wandering to the ground. Suddenly he smacked the table. “Let’s get this thing moving.” Zalador stood up, waving Ivan to lead the way. Two doors slid open, revealing a collection of sorts. Several priceless art pieces by known Reffeldian artists, sculptures of ancient philosophers. What first stood out to Payten was a massive object protected by glass casing. It must have been some sort of bone, or tusk, it looked like some swirls or symbols were scratched into it. The room was well lit, each painting or displayed item having its own light. Another stand out item was an ancient tablet of sorts, large and heavy looking with archaic writing on it. Ivan took note of Payten’s interest. “Old thing from Dragnoske, something about the end of times, a lot of it is faded.” He said

“Not as faded as my nephew was.” Zalador chuckled as he stepped into the room

“He seemed worried.” Payten responded with sincere concern

Zalador shook his head in agreement “He’s a good man, when he wants to be.” Zalador began pacing “Worried about the future, which girl is going to stab him in his sleep.” Zalador scoffed violently “I told him to get out of here two weeks ago, he doesn’t listen. My kids are far away from this mess, and soon they’ll be farther.”

“He cares about you.” Ivan reassured him

Zalador sighed “He’s got everything ahead of him, I’m kind of jealous really. He could be boss one day, he’s the spitting image of Vinko.”

Payten decided to change the subject, seeing this was a sensitive issue. “Cristvoske is Kane’s red line.”

“Red line.” Zalador chuckled, Ivan joined in as well. “Rivers of blood will fill these fields. Maybe in a week, a month, but it’ll happen. As if we didn’t have enough problems…it’s a hard winter when the pack is eating each other.”

Ivan sipped his drink, pacing the room “They want to revolt, the only thing revolting is the stench these people carry.” Ivan expected laughter but gone none, so he continued speaking “The people are falling for rebel propaganda.”

“Such as?” Payten asked

“They think we’re killing them deliberately.” Ivan said

Well are you? Payten wanted to ask, but said nothing. Instead he replied vaguely “It’s complex, I was never one for politics.”

“Complex?” Zalador seemed surprised hearing that “The crazies are taking power next door, they killed Viktor…Enver Snow …is in shackles. Everybody knows I’m next. This isn’t politics, this is pure rage and lawlessness. Nothing political about it.” Melinkov turned his back, moving toward a large portrait of an aristocratic looking figure. Payten stood silent for a moment, realizing Zalador was either ignorant or a complete liar. Or both. Payten decided to keep his mouth shut for now, the air was clearly tense. Payten then realized who the portrait depicted. It was Alfred Marcus Carr, the father of the president. He served as Governor of some island decades ago, Novaya, Payten remembered. It was where the president was born, he often raved about its beaches and cuisine. Zalador soon removed the portrait from the wall, revealing a large steel safe. Ivan averted his eyes as the congressman opened it. “We Reffeldians need to tighten our belts.” Zalador revealed a suitcase from inside “This is war, war for the future of this country.” Zalador stepped closer “Got this bit of beautiful intelligence a couple years ago. Viktor made me a copy, you remember him? The former Congressman of Dragnoske, I’m afraid his head is a chew toy for Stanislav Olferre now.” Melinkov was grim “Makes me think, the rebels have their own copy of this thing…do they know Viktor gave me the map? Either way, I bet your a*s they are covering any weak points in that tunnel system of theirs.”

If that were true, Payten wondered if this map would still be of value. The Military Governor must have known about this, he wouldn’t have sent me otherwise. Either way, Payten was sent here to do a job. Payten extended his hand, reaching for the case. But then Zalador pulled away “You know, I don’t trust that Kane. His family always looked down on my father. Now he thinks he can make bargains for my future?”

“Kane has integrity.” Ivan insisted

“Maybe.” Melinkov winced his mouth, but decided to hand over the briefcase

Payten exhaled with relief as he held the briefcase. Then a loud sound echoed in the background, something Payten could only interpret as an elephants stomp from the downtown circus. Then another went off, and a third. Clearly an explosion was in the distance, Ivan moved back into the office, followed by Melinkov and Payten. Ivan pulled up the blinds of the window behind the Congressman’s desk, revealing various buildings burning in the distance. Most notable was the governmental building where Melinkov and Ivan held office, the Town Hall. The seal of The Republic falling to a crisp as flames consumed the various floors of the marble structures.

Melinkov singed “Reds.”

Ivan said nothing, in complete awe. Various other explosions were heard, gunfire and screaming. Death to Tyrants! Some voices traveled the sky’s to reach the windows of Vinko’s Palace. “The first shots have been fired.” Melinkov turned back, remaining apathetic. He grabbed at his drink, about to take a sip. But then an explosion rocked the room, sending Melinkov and his drink flying. Payten caught him as Ivan held onto a wall. The room flashed black, sealing tiles and dust cascading in the office. A strong heat filled the room, fire alarms sounding and sprinklers going off. Payten sniffed, smelling smoke in the nearby room. Soon fire began to spread throughout the adjacent bedroom, as well as the trophy room. Instantly Payten went for the briefcase, opening it to find a yellow package. It’s in there, Payten gripped it tight and secured it in his jacket pocket.

After Payten zipped up his jacket, those two guards from down the hallway entered the office. The skinnier one began speaking “A mob is in the lobby, they have weapons! We’ve already lost most of our team downstairs.”

Melinkov was in disbelief “Bullshit, where is everybody?”

“Congressman, we have to leave.” Ivan said “It’s too dangerous for us here.”

Melinkov scoffed “They won’t drive me out of my own city.”

“Do you want to die here? Is that it? What about your wife? Do you even know where she is?” Ivan began to breathe fire, a side Payten didn’t expect to see “What about Kostya damn it?”

Melinkov heaved “Fine! Take them and get to the docks, hell go to Dragorskii they can stay in a bed and breakfast.”

“Payten, let’s go.” Ivan grabbed Payten’s elbow, which he shook off. Payten may not know Congressman Melinkov well, but he didn’t feel right leaving him here to die like this. “Congressman.” Payten pleaded “At least come with us, to a safe location in the city. With any luck our brigades will retake the Town Hall.”

“The brigades.” Melinkov grinned, then his eye wandered to his drink. He picked it up off the ground, finishing what was left. “Alright let’s go.” Ivan was already on the phone, trying to reach the Congressman’s wife, Alice. Though she was likely already at whatever theatre she went to, her phone off. Instead Ivan chose to alert the men who were escorting her and her friends. “Yes, yes, you have our permission, yes!” Ivan shook his head. The two guards cautioned to use the stairwell, Ivan leading the group towards the rooftop. The two guards were trying to reach other men downstairs, but nobody seemed to be answering. Ivan gave a look to Payten which meant hopelessness. The rooftop door opened, the guards ran forward to begin getting the helicopter prepared. Ivan began speaking to Melinkov about his wife, the two began bickering about who she was with at the theatre. Bleep, buzz, Payten’s SeraWatch began to alert. He raised his watch, seeing it was his superior Military Governor Kane Myvorth. Wasting no time he answered the call, connecting to the earpiece inside his ear.

“Agent Collins.” Kane began “The rendezvous point has been compromised, the ferries were forced to flee the city.” Kane paused, allowing Payten to soak in the nasty information “We’re currently organizing a way for you to exit the city safely. Is the asset secure?”

“Yes sir.” Payten reported. Payten respected that Kane was willing to stay in contact with Payten directly, not one to use his title as a shield or a way to appear pompous. No, he indeed earned every bit of his position through strength and vigilance. Kane was after all a man of strong action, pragmatism and steadfastness. Payten grew to respect Kane during the Tortovick Intervention, working strongly to hold together that region of sand and chaos. Payten without delay replied to the Military Governor as the nearby helicopter started up. “I have the asset, the city is under fire by the insurgents, the Congressman is in danger.”
“We’re dispatching more field agents to your location, the mission is clear, the asset is the highest priority.” Kane was formal and wooden. “Find a secure area to hold out until we can reach you, the entire city is a hot zone.” Payten paused, wondering why Kane was unconcerned with the safety of the Congressman. Perhaps he was convinced the mere amount of troops in the city would be able to hold out against the rabble. “Yes sir.”

“Liberty at any cost.” Kane signed off

Payten breathed heavily as he studied the new rendezvous point, five miles outside of the city. However Payten realized he could just as easily flee on this helicopter with Ivan and the Congressman. Might be able to protect them as well, though Payten wondered if doing so would put the map at risk. The gaunt faced Ivan reached his hand out to Congressman Melinkov, Payten walking towards the chopper as well. I’ll wish them well, and continue the mission. Though as Melinkov pressed his boot onto the chopper’s feet, two other helicopters began to rise to the rooftop. Payten quickly realized they were not friendly, as a rocket launcher wielding mercenary was hanging out of one side. Melinkov jumped aside as the rocket launched, Payten shot at the mercenary, but it was too late. The helicopter carrying Ivan raised up before the shot could land, the blast knocking Payten and Melinkov both aside. An intense ringing filled their ears as the choppers flew away, exchanging fire at eachother. Payten couldn’t believe how quickly the circumstances had changed, but he quickly adapted. He remembered the battles in the sand, unpredictable hellfire. Payten smashed his fist to the ground and raised himself up. The ringing quickly grew lower, flames and rubble smoking intensely in the air. Stepping over he helped the quivering Melinkov to his feet, clearly not used to gunfire the way Payten was. Now what? Payten couldn’t just leave him here unprotected, something had to be done.

“Let’s move.” Payten began leading Melinkov back down into the hotel. With any luck we can take my bike, and get out of here. But by the time they reached the lobby floor, Melinkov had grown stubborn once more. “You know, my father never ran when he was faced with danger. He served in the lavender crusade, this one time he was faced with a situation like this, him and one man. An officer and his cadet, only a single handgun between them.”

“We’re making it out of here, alive.” Payten insisted

“Last time, my father made it out alive, the cadet didn’t.” Melinkov sighed “You hold onto the gun kid, and that there map, hell, maybe it’ll do this planet some good.”

The two entered the lobby, the underground parkade entrance was just across the hall. But Payten soon realized that they had entered a swamp, rats and toads scampering about, chaos and blood filling the once relaxing lounge. Various figures began to fill the lobby, lights flashing on and off, alarms and screams in various corners of the hotel. Finally the main lobby light managed to come on, revealing the bright bearded Stanislav Olferre standing amongst a group of barbarians in furry hats. Stanislav was at the center, wearing thick furs in the colors of Dragnoske, blue and red. He was the last surviving son of Lord Aldaveer Olferre, the rest of the cubs being slaughtered at the now infamous Bloody Chateau. He held his arms out, showing he was in control now. The mercenary to his right had a large horned hat, looking to be a bison head. Payten knew him as well, it was Gunnar Mozgovoy.

He recently became second in command of the local rebel battalion, The one to his left was two feet taller than Stanislav, holding a large mace. Payten wasn’t sure who he was, must not have been high profile like Gunnar and Stanislav. The rest of the so called free men of Dragnoske were equally as menacing, holding stolen weapons and inflamed expressions. “Run away little dog, that creature is coming with us.” Stanislav locked eyes with Payten

“No chance Olferre, reinforcements are already coming.” Payten stood strong

Stanislav scoffed, exchanging glances with his men “Is that why you tried to fly away on that chopper?” Stanislav raised a contemptuous brow “Oh yes, I’ll be taking that map too by the way. Wouldn’t want any of you sneaking in on me having a bath. ” Suddenly Payten realized the bear cub knew everything that was going on inside Melinkov’s office, causing him to ask “You bugged this place?”

Stanislav chortled “Of course! Men of True Reffelda are everywhere, this city has been falling for weeks, though you were too blind to see it. The ones who put ice in your drink, who clean the floors, who drive the trucks of fancy fish…we are everywhere. Once more the sun will shine on this city.”

Melinkov became prideful and straightened his jacket. “Say hi to your old man for me Payten.” The Congressman winked, as he stepped forward. Payten tried to stop him, but Melinkov began revealing himself, speaking loudly. “So what? You think you can come here? Into my city, into my place here, huh? This place is as sacred as your millennia old mountain you call a castle. Maybe you’ll hold out here for a week, maybe a month, but eventually you’ll be exterminated like the rats you are.” Payten looked at the back of the group to see one of the mercenaries readying a bow. Payten raised his sidearm, but was too late. An arrow sprang forward into the right leg of Zalador Melinkov, causing him to take a knee. Payten took a long breath, wondering what he was to do. Mission, get in, get out. Instantly Payten began to run, leaving the congressman behind to be ravaged by the rats. “GET HIM!” Stanislav roared and pointed at Payten

Payten suddenly felt various rifles pointed at him, guns cocked, eyes locked. Payten turned his shoulder, seeing them looking down on him from the lobby rafters. Payten realized he wasn’t getting out of this, at least he wasn’t going to with the map. Stanislav chortled again as his men collected the Congressman, tossing a bag over his head and ushering him out of the hotel. “You can unite with your beloved wife in the car, she is a bit upset mind you.” Stanislav patted Melinkov on the back before he left.

Payten singed as the situation developed “What does she have to do with any of this?”

“Everything.” Stanislav brooded “For every person who drinks champagne there are a hundred who drink dirty water.” Stanislav snorted “You wouldn’t get it. You’ve always had everything, and don’t know people who have lost it all. Your daddy hangs out with these gangsters, eating shellfish on weekends and gambling with people’s lives. Wasn’t surprised to see you here Collins.” Stanislav moved closer “Just another henchmen of hate, you’ll be dealt with just the same.” Payten said nothing, knowing Stanislav and his family to be a mere relic of the old country. They were hypocrites, no different than the Melinkov Crime Family. Payten remembered he had the map on him, they’re going to take it, or kill me.
With or without the map, there would be no stopping Kane from reaching Dragnoske. Stanislav grunted, tightening his fist and throwing the first punch. It landed clean against Payten, who backed up, receiving another vicious slug to the chin. The bear prince suddenly grabbed Payten by the head, throwing him across the room. Payten banged his head against the concierge, though he noticed an ashtray with a smoking cigar. Blood dripped from Payten’s mouth as he turned back to find Stanislav chortling once again. “I’d like nothing more than to kill ya boy, lighting a fire under your daddy’s a*s would make me mighty happy.” Stanislav cracked his knuckles “But The Allmaker has other plans for you…”

Payten could see Stanislav wanted to savor this, seeing Payten and Melinkov as some sort of trophies of conquest. Unless he wants me for ransom, or a trade for some other prisoners. Payten snatched the ashtray, quickly tossing it in Stanislav’s face, breaking the crystal over his head. As the bear cub waddled, Payten found the opportunity to make a run for it. The gunmen on the second floor readied their weapons, shooting at Payten. A few shots landed in Payten’s back, nabbing his bullet proof jacket. Payten jumped forward, diving to the floor instantly. Rolling on his back under cover, he realized a bullet had made it through his shoulder. F**k! Payten hissed with pain, feeling fresh bruises on his back. “Collins!” Stanislav roared, his eyes burning red

The other mercenaries moved in then, Payten instantly rose to his feet, the map of Dragnoske secured in his jacket. His undamaged shoulder smashed into the back entrance door, making a loud echo in the concrete hallway. Scaling down the stairs quickly, Payten moved with pure adrenaline. Behind, Payten ducked and jumped backwards holding his gun. In a quick motion he shot one of his pursuers, knocking him down in an instant. Rolling back up he continued down towards the underground parkade. Another door was quickly opened and his motorcycle keys flew into his hands. Zeep, Payten sprang onto the motorcycle as he turned it on with the click of a button. Payten turned back to see Gunnar and his bison horns following in pursuit, two men beside him. Quickly Payten pressed on the motorcycle ignition and sprang off like lightning into the dark night. The highway immediately presented itself outside the hotel. Nearby Payten watched as the billboard of Zalador Melinkov was burning, likely ignited by Olferre and his men. Die Young in the New Reffelda. Payten watched as a mob came out of the hotel. Some carrying jewels, some carrying women and others with expensive liquor. Before he locked eyes with any of them Payten moved onto the highway.

The roads were quiet, too quiet. In the distance Payten watched several buildings consumed by flames, the sky decorated with a smoky red light. At the far end of the highway Payten could see the road was blocked with semi-trucks. Will need to take the scenic route. Payten smirked as he moved into the appropriate lane, soaking everything in as he calmly rode down the highway. Bullets and explosions echoing in the distance. As Payten made his way out of Cristvoske, he realized he had left his suitcase in his hotel room. A photograph of him and his former field partner Arianna was in there. Payten began thinking of her, and how she would have fared during this conflict. She always acted strong, but had a gentle heart. Payten was unsure if she would have left Zalador as Payten did. The night grew dark on the road, trucks of mercenaries and other military equipment coming from the direction Payten was heading. The entire city is a hot zone, Payten remembered the words of Kane. In the thick black of night, Payten moved onto the highway, remembering there was a petrol station just outside the city. Along with a decent Parashian restaurant, which was rare for Cristvoske. How long he would have to hold out was up to The Allmaker. After this mission was complete, Payten wondered if Dragnoske would be his next destination. Wherever The Republic would send him, he would bring liberty at any cost.

Author's Note

Thoughts on characters, story, where do you see it developing?