Celeste Lockwood, aka "Hammerhead", Dark Howler, Hell's Asshole.

Hell's Asshole. Appropriate name for a backwater out in the middle of nowhere. Way too hot, far too few bars, all glaring sunshine and no roses, even thorny ones. Celeste popped the seal of her mech, letting the cooled vacuum that existed inside hiss away into the open sky. Ah, well, that would have to been added once she was underway again. Thank fuck for cooling units and air condition units. She grinned. The Dark Howler had both, more as a byproduct of all the heat sinks built into it. A reverse fridge effect: hot on the inside, cool on the outside. Well, outside being the inside of her mech, so the analogy didn't work perfectly. Ah, shit on a stick, nothing was ever perfect.

The wide brimmed hat shielded her eyes as she gazed out into the desert. Heat was shimmering on the ground and blurring the horizon. It always did this time of day. Why Markus had said he'd be there and picked this spot was anybody's guess. If Celeste had to guess, it was because it was out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and no sane individual would travel this far into the desert without provisions, a good plan on how to get out again and an even better reason to be here in the first place. She shrugged. Markus could keep his reasons as long as she was payed for the job.

A soft hum, almost a buzz, alerted her of an approaching mech. Too far off to see clearly, but loud enough to be man made. Celeste grinned. Markus was early.

Except it wasn't Markus. It was a Horus mech. Shitfuck and dumdump.

The thing had four legs, two arms and - horns? Horns on a mech? What the shitfuck? Yeah, that was a HORUS mech, all right, nobody else would think of putting horns on a mech. Moving fast, the bastard was, too. Celeste cursed again and quickly closed the hatch, sealing it tightly, flipping the switch that told the machinery to pretty please make it livable inside again. She had just thrown herself into the cockpit seat when...

"Hey, Hammerhead. That you?"

Celeste froze. Who the fuckshit just burst into people's coms? And how? The Dark Howler wasn't properly powered up yet, and coms had been offline.

"C'mon, Hammerhead. I know you're in there, you money grubbing grabbing wench, you."

Huh. So it was Markus, after all. In a Horus mech. Celeste checked her right hand. Nope, still nine fingers, mus'nt be dreaming. Slowly she grabbed the still-off microphone of the com station, looking at it with curious disgust before speaking into it.

"Can you hear me?"

"I can hear you just fine, Hammerhead. Don't worry, nobody around to tell you got hacked."

The voice came through loud and clear. Crystal. No static or background noise at all. Strange. Very, very strange.

"Hacked? Yeah, right. You got my gold?"

"Do you have my package?"

"I've got your package if you've got my gold."

"And I have your gold if you've got my package. C'mon, Hammerhead, ease up a little. Look, I'll exit first, carrying a big black box - that's your money, by the way - and then you can leave your crawling chaos whenever you feel like meeting me."

"All right - Markus."

The com station blinked online. Stickfuck on a dumpstick. Useless. Well. Coming out seemed scary, now.

The underbelly (underbelly? Had she really thought of it as the underbelly of a beast? It was a mech. A HORUS mech, but still a mech, and not alive.) hatch opened and a humanoid figure stepped out into the glaring sunlight. Grinning like an idiot, shades in place, three-day stubble, sandblast hair, dressed in brownish and greased working fatigues, carrying what looked like a mix between a chest and a briefcase. A heavy looking briefcase. Gold was heavy.

Celeste looked around inside. Where had she stashed the item? Rummaging through her spare items/junk draw her hands touched a cylinder six inches wide. Even wrapped in cloth it had this faint pink-purple-magenta glow to it. Probably dangerous. Dangerously stupid, or stupidly dangerous, considering who wanted it. Or maybe just stupid. Dumshit for sure, and dumshit her had been carrying that thing in the open. Had Markus said it was safe to touch? He had not not said it wasn't. Celeste grabbed the thingie and showed it into a pack. Outdoors again.

The seal of the mech hissed again as the climate control paused automatically - no use pumping cool air into an open casket. Funny word, that, casket. Celeste climbed up and out, bracing herself as her feet hit the sand. Markus stood there, maybe thirty or forty feet away from his machine. Even in the sunlight it looked - menacing. Beastlike. If it started making cow noises that was it for Celeste, money or no money.

Markus put down the briefcase/chest, giving it a soft thump as he placed a foot on top of it. Celeste opened the pack. It had a hole in it, a tattered hole. Some of the stitching must had come loose again. Time to grab another one back in town.

"One TTS 19 power ultra super container for personal use. Want me to put it down, or do you want to play catch?"

"Too valuable. Put it down, nice and easy, and we'll circle around, me to it, you to this." Markus patted the black chest/briefcase with his boot. "No double crossing, no tricks, just a simple exchange of goods and payment."

Celeste put the pack down. There was no hint of a glow, pink-purple-magenta or otherwise. She knelt down to open up the flap, revealing the item Markus had tasked her with getting. She could sense his stickdumb grin widening.

"Excellent. Move to the left, I'll do the same."

Celeste got up and started walking to the left.

"No, your other left."

Celeste sighed, rolled her eyes and started heading back to her other left. Only then Markus began to move, mirroring her pace.

Five minutes later the air conditioning and cooling units blasting full force as the Dark Howler rolled away from the meeting spot, one black chest/big briefcase with gold richer. Time to buy some upgrades, a shower and a shave, maybe a massage, and for fuck's sake a new backpack - the old one had ripped and teared in two as Markus had picked it up. Dumfuck had nearly lost his precious item and yelped, having barely caught it in time. Not her fault, that.