Fix

I could clearly hear their conversation and see them before they knew I was within range. Two Zeroworries PMC soldiers in plate carriers were focused on debating the merits of the private cargo company equipment, which had been delivering on behalf of BLM and the PMCs back at the resort. Overhead I could hear the low buzz of UAVs overhead, trying to penetrate through the thick deciduous and coniferous canopy that had unfolded in the last week. Taking up position in the wooded areas was smart, as it would provide ample cover.

The Zeroworries, however, were more or less in full sun.

"I don't understand why they use those old skycrane pieces of crap. For the cost of maintaining 'em and passing safety--"

"You assume these guys care about safety? Hell, half of them just care about getting their fix. "

"Yeah keeping them repaired I guess is the point."

"No, man, like, fix," he taps his arm and mimes sticking a syringe into it.

"Wait really?"

"You ever talk to them off duty, shit, total junkies, the whole of them. Say what you will about the worst of us on the amphetamine train, it's at least stimulating conversation," he spits, the brown solution of chewing tobacco and saliva hits the grass, "and not some new age opium den like these jokers. I wouldn't fly with them. But they are a cheap way to move shit around."

"You hear that?"

Their posture changes and I hear them pull the charging handles on their rifles as they get in a ready position. I hear one of them kneel. As I made my approach I made it clear using the lights mounted on the HK416Y, signaling out the day's signal sequence.

"What the fuck is that? A guy?"

"Hey!" the thinner of the two shouts, "Drop your equipment and put your arms up?" He phrases it like a question as though this is his first patrol. I raise my arms up, swinging the large head of the HK416Y aloft, along with my more human looking hand in the air. The spare arm I had attached to my back had no power, but I don't think they noticed it as much as the larger demolition head I had mounted.

"Equipment!" the heavier set one's voice cracks and sounds hoarse from shouting, as both of them approach.

"What the... oh, it's ... I was expecting one of the regular ones." They lower their rifles and I look at them.

ROBERTSON, Joseph
Security Consultant
ZEROWORRIES PMC

"The fuck is that, some kind of like, hammer?" Joseph relaxes his posture and looks me over from behind his yellow tinted high-vis glasses. They wrap around most of his face. Were it opaque it would look like a blindfold. I look over at the heavier set one.

CLAYTON, Eric
Security Consultant
ZEROWORRIES PMC

"When they said they were sending a droid... anyway, camp's back over here about a klick. We'll follow you back so we can tighten up a bit more. It's kinda creepy how you have like...your arm attached to your back so it just flops around. I guess if you put it upside down it'd keep spanking you," he chuckles at his own joke.

A few moments later I'm back at the sight of the last raid I saw, the JESUS IS LORD sign has since been removed. Several RDS tents had sprung up in the area, a few of which had their walls unzipped and taken off for the day. A few newly deployed cover barriers had been installed to establish a perimeter, with some of the newer directed energy weapons hooked up to a few gas powered generator fed batteries, which was unusual for non-state actors.

A few more ZeroWorries contractors milled around. Just outside of an RDS, three of PMCs were stripped down to their caps, t-shirts and fatigue pants were bouncing a ping pong ball into red cups. Taking a closer look, I saw that it was half of the JESUS IS LORD sign, now reading JE I L, with errant punctuation on either side.

Battery level 89%
Time Remaining: 14d20h57m

From one of the zipped up RDSes emerged what was clearly a commanding officer of some kind, based on his posture and the body language of the four or five consultants who were looking me over. Sure enough, his ID confirms his status.

SEABORN, Warren
Lead Security Consultant
ZEROWORRIES PMC

"I got off the radio with Clyde a little while ago. A few of our guys are up ahead keeping an eye out on where we last saw them. We have a few of the geese set up in the area," he gestures to a fixed wing drone on a pallet that one of the consultant was cutting out of its plastic wrap, but we think based on the cover, you're better off on the ground than anything."

He pulled out his phone and opened his Bluetooth menu, allowing me to pair with it and receive the updated maps of the area, along with the transponder signals for his team, allowing me to find them. Once I had the updated data, Seaborn nodded, and gestured for one of the PMCs to both get back to his post and open the gate for me from that post, while the other "lollygaggers" who were "loitering" were asked by Seaborn if they had "shit to do," and with that most of them dispersed, except the one who continued wrestling the drone out of its packaging, and one of the t-shirted PMCs who wasn't wearing a name tag.

"How long until we get a fix on the coffee situation, Pete?"

The t-shirt looked down at the tablet in his hands, "Looks like about 15 hours."

"Good. Hopefully they send some Camels too. Meanwhile," Warren lowers his voice, "Do you have any extra Zyn?"

"Yeah man, here."

"Excuse me?"

"Yes sir, would you like one sir?"

Warren looked at me as he took the packet from Pete, "Decorum is key to running a good operation, you know? Let my guys in the field know who signs their checks, yeah?"

Stuffing the packet into his lip, he gave me a grin, and headed back into his RDS.