Hamster Kin
A Starshatter story
(Art by Neutronboar)
My fellow Terrans, it is Terran-Tuesday and since you loved this little fuzzy fella so much, I am giving you another chapter :D
Enjoy!
Index: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8
Chapter 4
Good nutz
Nestled among the cozy shadows of one sprawling underpass, many hundreds of merchant stalls sold everything ranging from jars of canned wozzie meat, repaired household electronics, to the discarded, once stylish clothing of thot-gurls and thug-bois. Jerry-rigged from old grav-carts or the wheeled toy cars of children long since dead and gone, these booths oft overflowed with items stolen from one cybernetically augmented person or things repurposed, new functions impossible for their original manufacturer to conceive, not even in their wildest of dreams.
Smells, there were many a thousand, each coming from a different slum food stall. Hot, soupy drinks with dubious ingredients, sammich-adjacent things, soggy baked goods, and, of course, Moonshine. Though, in the case of Boklik City, a place where moon rarerly shone, one rather called this near-poisonous brew Rainstronk. For some weird reason, those who concocted it, employed discarded internal cybernetical organs to be exact. Thus, the brew had the lingering aroma of cyber-oils and more often than not... bubbled.
As Bloop had just uncovered, he could drink this brew but not sniff it. While he perused the black market stalls which his guide Yuik showed him, the Hamster tried many a snack. One of his duties as a Solace Tourist was to support the local economy. Of course, he exchanged a number of coins so he can shop the tiny things without gaining too much attention. Though Yuik claimed that gangsters weren’t usually present here on the black market, Bloop promised his landlord to be careful.
Three hours later and belly full of snake skewers, blood cakes, and wozzie burgers, the hamster’s guide got a note on his antiquated PDA. Earlier, they had employed Yuik’s connections as a docker to gain entry into the premier smuggler’s den. This was, according to the wizened local, exactly where one might find the equipment and gear needed to bring Looc’s mecha garage back to life.
Deep in the crawling with non-augmented people bowels of the black market, Yuik led Bloop to a wall. Dirty, this once beautiful brick wall had been part of a big house. What did this place even look like the docker did not want to say, but the hamster noticed that gathering of bricks had been transplanted from somewhere else. Just as he was poking brick, mortar, and everything in between, the entire wall swiveled aside, revealing an elevator.
Yuik gently pushed his guest inside and just as the secret gate swung close behind them, activated the elevator’s controls.
“Mister Bloop, you may study the wall for as long as you like, only after the auction.” – said the young docker and patted his spacesuit’s pockets, producing a folded plastic sign which read Mr. Bloop, the letters scribbled with neon-yellow space marker.
“There are rules here, yes?” – asked the hamster to which Yuik nodded and had barely opened his mouth to add something else, when Bloop stated – “Though I want to be courteous, I am not gonna stand squeakless if they try to swindle me.”
Yuik gave Bloop the plastic sign as he assured him with a confident smirk – “Why, no, we are not usually looking to swindle each other. Us contrabandists survive only because of our strict, no backstabbing code.”
“Good.” – said the smirking hamster and nevertheless checked his diminutive gun, stashing it under his cloak seconds before the elevator came to a halt.
The two were greeted by six armed men who guarded a wide, armored gate. Decked in old armored suits, they carried and held their uniform particle-beam rifles like trained soldiers would.
“No wozzie business, you hear?” – said one of them, as his helmeted head nodded Bloop’s way, implying they knew he was armed.
“Only honest hamster business, me promise.” – squeaked back the Terran, tiny hand on his shout and followed with a short jig.
His tiny legs pitter-pattered so quick, the soldiers turned contrabandist mercs exchanged looks full of confusion.
“Our docker fren ‘ere says you are dependable and has coins. On ‘is word, we are letting ye in.” – said the chief merc and let Bloop in through the gate since Yuik and he had a short exchange of sharp, secretive hand signs.
“Once, they were part of our military.” – Yuik explained when Bloop motioned at the guards, while the two strutted down a tall freight train tunnel.
Not a star-minute later, they ended up entering an underground station turned auction house. The long grav-tracks were used to push various jerry-rigged carts full of items. Some were on the small side, yet most were bulky construction machinery, small vehicles, and aftermarket parts. More than a few of these ex-soldiers were visibly patrolling the premises, yet Bloop was keenly aware or their age. A number of them were no longer in shape and some had finally been caught by their old wounds.
Unsurprisingly, not one of the men and women who did business here wore any cybernetics.
“The Corpos are tracking their cyber-tech, aren’t they?” – the hamster whispered a question.
“That is why I asked you to disassemble the ones you got before coming here.” – said Yuik and patted Bloop’s ubiquitous backpack – “The guards wouldn’t have let us in otherwise.”
“Corpos always do this. They claim they sell you shiny tech, but it is all a scam.” – snickered Bloop and made a series of motions as if his fingers were operating a holo-keyboard – “It is actually a rental and you, their property. The crooks can remotely shut down the very legs under you if you don’t pay for their software updates or miss a ‘necessary’ upgrade.”
“We quickly learned that,” – grumbled Yuik as he nodded at one of the older mercs – “when our soldiers attempted to use their cyber-tech against them. I was a baby then, but Looc told me everything...”
Bloop politely grinned at the armed man, which gained him one of the saddest half-smirks he’d seen in recent months.
“This is when his mech suffered that accident.” – the hat-wearing Terran did not ask but stated and Yuik mumbled a quiet ‘Yes’.
“Worry not, as soon as we grab the gear, I’ll fix it.” – the hamster made another calm statement as his goggles studied every machinery in range.
“I am more worried about that gang...” – Yuik muttered under his nose and followed Bloop around while this one almost ran from one pile of parts and machinery to another.
Eventually, Bloop had pinpointed everything that they needed and before the auction began, even managed to find a comfy, elevated spot at the very front of the crowd. An old woman took the stage and, via good quality holo-footage, introduced the offers. Starting prices weren’t low, yet they weren’t too high either and the Terran engaged his fellow auctioneers in enthusiastic banter.
Yuik quickly realized that the hamster was like a starship’s cargohold full of knowledge when it came to various machinery, vehicles, and gear. During the auction, he even helped the announcer by recalibrating her holoprojector when the latter suddenly went out of alignment. What the docker usually experienced on these auctions was a lot of anxiety and even a bit of fear, especially when a pile of Looc’s goods was for sale. Low bids often meant they all had to tighten their belts and suffer more gang-related pain.
With quickly earned grace and Yuik’s recommendations, Bloop found his place among the contraband peddling sentients. When the mecha specific machinery rolled on the stage, some who were know to otherwise bid high, respectfully bowed out. One after the other, the hamster successfully acquired every piece that he needed, including a fully operational nanoprinter.
However, it was what followed after that startled the docker.
Instead of packing everything and leaving the auction, Bloop visited many of the contrabandists he had so cozily chatted with. With a tool in hand, he proceeded to fix, completely for free, many of the aftermarket parts and third-hand machines that they purchased. That kept going and for the next few hours, as auction staff and bidders bent over backwards to help the Terran. Eventually, their mecha maintenance gear was transported onto the underground and delivered to Looc’s garage.
Yuik asked a few of the mercs and they came with their gear.
Bloop spent another hour repairing damaged suits of armor, weapons, and even fitted a few with easy to craft upgrades when the electronic warning alarms bleeped over everyone’s devices. With practiced speed, bidders and sellers left by use of underground, escorted by the mercs. However, the hamster did not join them, opting to go on the topside and see what exactly was happening.
“I’d advise against it, mister Bloop!” – Yuik warned him for the third time – “If this is what I think it is, a flatfoot raid, vendors will be squeezed bad.”
The hamster’s grin intensified and, as the elevator stopped up on the surface, he giggled – “How exciting!”
“Looc has been telling me stories of our peace troopers from his day. Nothing like these coppers, I assure you!” – said the docker and he spat out the word copper with despite aplenty.
A cheerful, busy place, the black market now was more akin to a funeral home, a thousand strong weeping crowd at the wake. Small band of cybernetically outfitted coppers wielding high-tech nightsticks rampaged their way through the market stalls. If the owners of said booths would not grease their metallic palms proper, they immediately received a thorough clobbering.
With their unsightly pink uniforms and bulbous, open face helmets which gave them the look of a certain aquatic, tentacle-owning Earth creature, the presence of these Corpo underlings was unwelcome to say the least. Appearances aside, the heinous acts they were so casually committing would’ve been reason enough for the Terran to take action.
Mr. Bloop stroked his whiskers, his goggles giving the coppers a good scan-see.
“Good sir Yuik,” – began he, putting a pair of strange, thin metal gloves as he spoke – “could you make sure these people are safely evacuated?”
“I can help a few slink into the sewer tunnels, but not everyone! It would be impossible without some sort of a distraction.” – replied the young docker and hurriedly signed the group which Bloop pointed to follow him, asking the hamster – “But what about you?!”
“Now is the time for me, a wizardly super vigilante, to make my presence known!”
Yuik’s face adopted a grimace which was somehow both joyous and concerned when he muttered – “All flatfoots in our city are owned by the OBP and decked in cyber-tech. Be careful, Mr. Bloop, they clobber first and ask questions later!”
The hamster’s snout twitched and Bloop could barely contain his snickering when the Terran asked – “What does OBP stand for, Obtuse Brainless Prunes?”
“Omni Boklik Products...” – Yuik could barely utter in between the chuckles he was incapable to control.
Bloop ushered the grinning man away and while this one scrambled to help a group of sellers run away, the solace tourist confronted a nearby trio of coppers. Fingers holding the edge of his hat, cloak fluttering behind him on what appeared to be wind, he pointed the flatfoots with his free hand, loudly squeaking in easy to understand local dialect of Fringe Speak:
“Corpo bootlickers, you cease your villainy this instant! Lay one finger on these poor people and you shall face the power of Bloop!”
The coppers immediately stopped and not for the reason good Mr. Bloop assumed. One of them mid swing, his nightstick aglow with red, nerve-stunning radiation, the three were at a complete shock as to how was this critter’s cloak fluttering. They were all too deep within the labyrinthine black market and here, there was no wind.
“What... who the wozzie-crud is you!?” – screeched the biggest copper, reaching for his OBP-issue heavy particle-beam pistol.
“Me?!” – the hamster chuckled and pitter-pattered a quick jig, still holding the rim of his hat – “I am the one, the only wizardly super vigilante Terran to visit this planet... so far! Come here I did, to do some cozy tourism, enjoy of delicious shooups and eat exotic baked nuts. But nay! I was immediately and quite rudely interrupted by a gaggle of cyber-derp gangsters. Now, even my new favorite shopping street, it is accosted by the likes of you... you pathetic excuses of lawmen!”
While he squeaked word after word, Bloop became the focus of attention of other coppers. Indeed, the bulk of them gathered around not to help their fellows detain him, but to watch the violent, bloody show which they assumed would soon follow. After all, what could one small critter and a delusional one to boot, do against three cops decked in shiny OBP cyber-tech?
“What’cha carrying in dat big backpack? I think a thorough search be in order.” – grumbled one of the three coppers and produced a stun baton.
“I don have any hat-wearing alien with your description in my taxed visitor database.” – announced the leader of the three as he unholstered his gun and made a step forward – “Dodging docking fees will land ya straight in the slammer!”
“Offending the honest employees of OBP?” – sniggered the nightstick-wielder as he proceeded to approach the hamster, promising – “That could land you in the hospital real soon-gah!”
“First of all, taxation is theft.” – began the hamster and assumed what the coppers thought was some ludicrous martial arts form, legs spread out, fists pulled back at abdomen level – “I ain’t going to some degenerate government office or a Corpo one for that matter and partaking in your bureaucratic corruption schemes.”
The three coppers heard an audible hiss coming from the critter, yet if that was him breathing or the source something else, they could not gather.
“Had you been truly honest, nary a coin earned by the sweat of other people’s brow would’ve found your pockets!” – said he and his wide hat-wearing head turned to look at a nearby trio of cops manhandling a hunched old woman, whom he’d purchased skewers from earlier today.
When the critter they assumed balmy said this, the leader of the three coppers could swear he saw a golden gleam in his goggled eyes – “You, yes you, the three parasites over there! Give that lady her coin back or I’ll wallop ya dead...”
By now the old woman had been tackled to the ground and a cybernetic boot approached her face. Convinced that the alien was utterly insane, and given the go by his leader, the nightstick wielder swung with confidence earned by thousands of clobberings.
His perspective changed in an instant, when the otherwise diminutive compared with him and his fellows critter vanished, a tiny object tumbling on the spot he stood until a split second ago. The EMP grenade detonated and no longer was he, nor any of his colleagues noticing anything, because their interlinked with OBP’s digital headquarters cyber-tech brains became completely schlocked.
However, the coppers who had so gleefully gathered to watch the show, they did saw what happened next and in great detail.
Transported by some force which their ocular implants were unable to analyze, the hamster proceeded to punch their fellows who had just relieved the old woman from her coin. Tiny hands which shouldn’t have been able to scratch the paint of their cybernetics, they actually wrecked the coppers dead with a single strike! Bits of mangled metal and cyber-oils splattered around him, the critter menacingly floated towards the gathering of OBP employees and there was another golden glint under his wide hat when he squeaked:
“You obtuse, brainless prunes! Us Hamsters, or should I say us Terrans, we revile those who live on the backs of honest, hard working sentients. The time for cozy tourism... over. The time for the deadly wallop... imminent!”
Not waiting to join their shattered fellows’, every single copper aimed their beamgun at the Hamster and opened fire. Those with quicker reactions, better perception and cyber-gear, they witnessed their beams twist and vanish mid air, as the critter suddenly manifested himself at their midst. Tiny fists aswinging, the squeaking terror proceeded to smite them dead and with speed none could’ve imagined even in their most depraved drug induced digi-dreams.
It didn’t take long till half of their colleagues still far away enough so they had time to compute the situation, to speedily and efficiently remove themselves from the premises. Mighty as it was, the OBP didn’t pay them nearly enough to get schlocked by some invulnerable, teleporting, floating alien critter.
Just as the alien had himself avowed, he was a wizardly super vigilante, and the coppers? Well... dealing with such issues, it just wasn’t in their digi-contracts!
Dear friends, if you like to support me and enable many a future writings, grab a copy and have a read!
Not in their contracts… 🤣
Left in his was a shiny EMP grenade. The EMP grenade detonated and no longer was he, nor any of his colleagues noticing anything, because their interlinked with OBP’s digital headquarters cyber-tech brains became completely schlocked.