Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Bits o' Legionnaire Business The SharkLad Chronicles: Beaver Quest

It’s raining on Argus 7. It was raining the last time I was here too. From what I hear, it rains all the time. I guess the colonists get used to it.

The colony has changed a lot since the last time I was here. It’s grown pretty big. The Argus system is on the outer rim of the galaxy, and, as a result, the Argus 7 colony attracts quite a crowd, travelers either coming from or going to some of the darker corners of the known universe. I’m no stranger to dark corners, nor am I a stranger to being stared or pointed at, which a group of Swilian missionaries seemed to take some morose pleasure at doing as I left the shipyard and headed for the main section of the colony. At seven feet tall, with a huge dorsal fin, talons for hands and feet, and a large mouth full of razor-sharp teeth, I’ve been known to attract some attention, even in a place like this.

I head for the first bar I spot, a seedy little place called “Lucky 7’s.” I could use a little luck right about now. I’m not even sure why I came to Argus 7, but I had to start somewhere. There's more staring and finger-pointing as I walk in and take a seat. I can barely get my order out (a Bloody Thora) before some Yubinar clown at the end of the bar starts hassling me.

“Say, buddy! What are ya? Meridian or Quatican?”

I raise the left corner of my mouth and send a tooth flying his way, shattering his mug of Spiffany ale.

“Tell you what,” I growl, “You don’t ask me any questions, and I won’t ask you any.”

The Yubinar is still trying to figure out what happened, when the bartender pulls a photon shotgun from behind the counter and bellows, “Say! We don’t want any trouble here!”

Man, they must teach them that line in bartending school.

“No trouble and no questions either,” I say, turning back to the bar to wait for my drink. After a few seconds, the crowd goes back to whatever they were doing, and the Yubinar slinks out, to change his pants, I figure.

So, where was I? Oh, yeah. I came to Argus 7 looking for answers. The last time I was here, I left with nothing but questions. That was about five years ago, during the heyday of a little group you might have heard of - the LMB. It started off simple enough. Me and a couple of the team were responding to a distress signal. I went down to the surface myself, figuring I could handle anything I came across. What I didn’t figure on was a series of events that would lead me face to face with a family member I thought dead and another I never knew existed.

Suddenly, I’m aware that I’m not alone, and a pretty little voice asks, “Buy you a drink?”

“I’ve already got, thanks,” I respond, keeping my eyes down.

“Well, how about another?”

I turn to my right, not sure what to expect, and lay eyes on a beauty that would send my buddy Cobie reeling. She flashes an innocent-looking smile, and my first thought is that she doesn’t belong in a place like this. But then I see the eyes. The eyes give it away, and I can’t help but smile too.

Coming to Argus 7 suddenly seemed like the smartest thing I’ve ever done.

“Now, why are you so eager to buy me a drink?” I growl quietly.

“I’ve got a thing for fins,” my companion shrugs.

“And what’s your name?” I ask, even more intrigued.

“Delilah,” she purrs slightly.

Perfect. I look Delilah over. On first glance, I would have thought she’d have nothing to do with someone like me, but the gleam in her eyes tells me that she’s seen her share of dark corners too. Suddenly I’m reminded of someone, someone I haven’t let myself think of for years ...

I realize Delilah is staring at me.

“What is it?” she asks, her lips forming a pouty smirk.

“You remind me …”

“What’s her name?”

“Candace … I … it doesn’t matter … look ...” I start to growl.

“Let’s get out of here,” Delilah offers, “in a few minutes, that Yubinar will be back with some friends.”

“I can handle it.”

“Oh, I know you can, but a fight would only delay things. C’mon.”

I watch Delilah make her way through the bar. ‘Delay things?’ What is she talking about? I feel the crowd watching me as I leave, and I’m tempted to let a couple of teeth fly. Outside, Delilah is talking to some Dividian punk on a Harley Sportstar. Just as I walk up, Delilah decks the Dividian and jumps on the back of the bike.

“Let’s go, Fins,” she beams, no trace of innocence left on her face.

Begrudgingly, I hop on the bike and blast our way down the alley as Delilah yells directions in my ear.

“What happened to avoiding fights?” I growl.

Delilah ignores my question and continues to shout directions. Soon, we're approaching the outskirts of the colony.

“Turn right up ahead,” Delilah yells.

I do as I’m told and find myself at a dead end. I bring the bike to a stop. I’m starting to think I’ve been had when Delilah jumps off the back of the bike, approaches a door, and punches in a code.

“After you,” she says as the door swings open. I sit on the bike, staring at her. What the hell am I even doing? It’s not unlike me to not look before I leap, but it’s been a long time since I let a pretty smile get the better of me.

“Not so fast,” I growl. “What’s inside?”

“That depends, Fins. What are you looking for?” she purrs.

“Something else else I doubt you’ll be able to help me find.”

“Fins, people come to Argus 7 for a lot of reasons. Not too many come back a second time.”

“How do you know I’ve been here before?”

Again she ignores me. “I have a feeling that whatever you’re looking for might be closer than you think."

I wish she hadn’t been right about that.

I hate stand-offs. I sit there, staring at Delilah, wondering how I let myself get to this point.

Finally, she breaks the silence.

“Why don’t you come in and tell me all about it?”

Still not sure why I should trust her, I follow her inside. It seems like a fairly common colony barracks, designed and built on some GovCentral world and dumped here unceremoniously on Argus 7. Delilah sits, her legs crossed under her, and motions for me to join her. I take the seat opposite her and find myself looking into her eyes again. Damn! What’s come over me?

“I can help you,” she says.

“With what?” I growl.

“Anything you want.”

Cute, but I’m not buying it. I look around. The place is small, no bigger than my quarters on Legion World, but missing the fish-tank of course. I notice a jacket with the word Wantagh on the back of it, and a “ping!” goes off in my head. Before I can think about where I’ve heard that word before, Delilah starts in again.

“Like I said, people come to Argus 7 for a lot of different reasons …”

I interrupt, “The only reason I came here the first time was on business – LMB business.”

She raises her eyebrows at that one. “So, you’re not a missionary?” she asks slyly.

“I’ve been called a lot of things, but a missionary ain’t one of them. And, you can stop pretending you’re so innocent yourself.”

“Fins, I know when I see someone in need, and you’re about the neediest dorsal-finned mother-sprocker I’ve seen around here in a long time, so just tell me what you want!”

Damn it if the last person who spoke to me like that didn’t end up with their ass in a sling, but she has me dead to rights. Ever since I stepped foot on this miserable rock five years ago, I’ve been lost. I need answers and maybe Delilah can help me find them.

So, I let it all pour out. She listens patiently as I explain how I was born in a lab, my mother a slightly mad geneticist who bred animals with humans. I tell about her my insane sibling Psychotic Beaver and how she killed our mother and left me for dead. Delilah stares intently as I speak about my days with the LMB, about the mission that brought me to Argus 7 only to be imprisoned by a man who claimed to be my father. He, in turn, brought me face to face again with Beaver, who I had long thought dead courtesy of my shot-gun wielding buddy Lard Lad. She seems to nod in recognition as I describe their plot to release insanity causing parasites, produced naturally by Beaver, across the galaxy. In the end, the parasites only spread to the Argus 7 colonists, the crew of a deep-space salvage vehicle, and some LMBers. Beaver unfortunately got away, but my “father” developed a cure before I pumped him so full of rat DNA that he’s still sitting in a cage in my mother’s old lab.

As I finish my story, I realize that I’ve never told it to anyone else before. Feeling totally unguarded, I’m about to launch into how the whole experience left me feeling lost and alone, when Delilah suddenly stands up.

“I guess I was wrong, Fins, I can’t help you.”

What the sprock!?!

“Are you kidding me?” I growl.

“I think you should go,” she says, “you can keep the bike.”

I consider mauling her face off, but I know it would do no good. I got myself into this mess. I’m still reeling as Delilah walks to the door and opens it. Sprock this! Bursting out into the alleyway, I hop on the bike and head towards the shipyard. I’m getting off this rock now!

I’m almost at the shipyard when it hits me. The T.K.S. Wantagh. That was the name of the deep-space salvage vehicle that got infected with the parasites. Why would Delilah have a crew jacket from the Wantagh? Damn it!

I turn the bike around but manage to get myself pretty lost. Twenty long minutes later, I finally find Delilah’s barracks. The door is unlocked, and I quickly realize that I got back here too late. I’ve been around enough death to know what it smells like. Sprawled out on the floor is Delilah, the gleam in her eyes long gone. I kneel beside her and notice a bruise on her neck. As I look closer, I notice another one by her shoulder. She’s covered in them. It takes me a second to realize that each bruise is shaped like a beaver’s tail.

I can’t move. I feel the color drain from my face as I try to take everything in. How did Delilah get messed up with Beaver? I look into Delilah’s eyes, and none of it makes sense. Staring at her, I have the strangest thought. In the olden tale, some vixen named Delilah got involved with a strongman, and she led him to take a tumble. This time around, Delilah is the one who fell. Not that this strongman is feeling that great at the moment.

I catch a whiff of something I can’t quite place, and a chill goes up my spine. Suddenly, it hits me. I’m not alone, and I realize that I really can’t move.

“How’s it going, little brother?” comes a voice from the shadows.

My mind reels at the reality of the situation. My sister, Psychotic Beaver, has managed to get the drop on me – again!

“Don’t bother trying to answer,” she continues, stepping out from her hiding place, “you’re completely paralyzed, in case you haven’t figured it out.

She moves closer to me, and I feel a rage burning inside.

“It’s a shame about this one,” Beaver says, tapping Delilah with her foot, “she barely put up a fight. She was useful, though, and so eager …”

Her voice trails off. Beaver turns and looks me in the eyes.

“And you, you pathetic sap, told her your whole sob story. What’d you think, that she was gonna make you feel all better? Take away your pain? Haven’t you realized? As long as I’m around, pain is all you’re ever gonna feel!”

I struggle to move, but it’s pointless. Whatever toxin she hit me with is doing its job. I’m stuck listening to her insane rant.

“Mom thought you were the key - the beginning of a whole new species that would dominate the galaxy. If she could see you now,” she says, shaking her head, “do you think she’d be proud of her little boy? Do you?”

She lets out a maniacal laugh. Kneeling, Beaver glares at me, a smirk forming on her face.

“Well, guess what, little brother? While you’ve been brooding like some overgrown rebel without a clue, I’ve been busy. I’ve got the whole gang back together, even Woodchuck. That’s right. The galaxy ain’t gonna know what hit it!”

Cackling, Beaver stands and begins to turn.

“Only one thing left to do …”

I don’t see the shiv, but I feel it as it plunges into my side. I taste blood in my mouth as I start to black out, my sister’s laughter filling the darkness.

Six months later

It’s raining on Argus 7. The chill in the air makes my scar ache. My doctors told me it would be a mistake to come back here, but I needed to … before I could move on.

I pass the med-center where I spent weeks on life support. I was brought there after Beaver left me for dead. Turns out the Dividian whose bike Delilah and I had stolen had spotted me on the way back to her barracks. He didn’t know what to make of the scene he found after he tailed me there. Lucky for me, he called the cops. By the time they got me to the med-center, I was as good as gone. I would have died that day if it wasn’t for a nurse who took pity on me. She wouldn’t let them pull the plug. After a couple of weeks, they shipped me off to the med-station on Refferti’s moon. Someone there had the bright idea of throwing me in a tank of water. The first thing I remember seeing when I woke up was the ugly mug of Detective Jonn Corree, a GovCentral flatfoot who wanted to know what I had to do with Delilah’s death. Too weak to bite the smirk of his face, I told him what I remembered. He didn’t believe my story and started talking about putting bars on my tank. In no position to fight, I played the LMB card. It got his attention, but not his respect. He threw me a few digs about letting Beaver get the drop on me.

“I thought LMBers were tough,” he taunted, “I guess you're outta your league, Sharkie!"

Maybe he was right. It was months before I could do much more than talk. When I was finally able to get on my feet, I set out for the Isla Larga Planetoid, the place where I was born. I needed an infusion of shark DNA from my mother’s old lab. Only problem was that the planetoid was gone, without a trace. There was only one other place I’d ever called home, and I wasn’t ready to go there yet.

I found out from Detective Corree that Delilah had been laid to rest in a cemetery just outside the Argus 7 colony limits. As I look for her grave, I think about all the unfortunate souls that ended up here, most of their lives ending as tragically as Delilah’s. I wasn’t able to find out anything about Delilah other than the fact that she moved into her barracks two weeks before I showed up. Her connection to Beaver and any other secrets that she had she took to the grave with her. When I finally find Delilah’s marker, I’m surprised by how little I feel. For months in the hospital, all I could think about was coming back and picking up where I left off. Standing in front of Delilah’s grave, I realize that it doesn’t matter if the questions I have never get answered.

The chill in the air starts to get to me. Without giving Delilah so much as a second thought, I turn and walk away. As I head back to the shipyard, I realize that there are a lot of things I have to let go of. The more I let myself think about my past, the more likely it is to haunt me. I either have to get with living or get with dieing, and I’ve been close enough to dieing. The only other thing I have to deal with is the fact that Beaver is still out there, and that I know I’ll see her again. But, I also know that when I do, she’s going to die.

As I leave Argus 7 behind for the last time, there’s only one place I want to go … home … to Legion World.

<SharkLad, over and out>