<< KolBel 10-09b through 12-14d1, proceed to window 76 for settlement, KolBel models 10-09b through 12-14d1 >>
JakeM’s head lowers, a low whirr escaping from the servomechanisms in his neck gasket. His number’s almost up. He returns to lazily toggling on and off the faded amber data readout on the underside of his right forearm.
[ fight win kill ]
[ - - - ]
[ 11 4 0 ]
[ - - - ]It wasn’t going to be enough — not once you count the yan for lithium, repairs, brawl tax… and the price for transit back to isle SUM had almost doubled over the past solar. Looks like the decal job was going to have to wait. Again. He really needed it too — it’s hard to get seeded at tournament when you look like you’re classed for underlevel rodent management.
<< KolBel 12-14d2 through 14, all models, proceed to window 43 for settlement, Kolbel 12-14d2 through 14 >>
The biped staffing window 43 is a lanky model 3F, with a cool grey matte siding and four telescoping arms spinning out from a modded collar joint. With a stuttering buzzing whine, like the starting and stopping of dozens of small drill bits, their arms weave throughout the tiny office, picking and prodding at switches and dials, sorting the contents of a number of drawers and shelves. They have a patient, pale glow to their ocular sensors, their forehead painted over with the traditional markings of phyOS server ASIA_South46 — blue lines in columns, from the crown down to the base of the olfactory socket, with a shock of red-orange over the left ocular.
“JakeM, good to see you.” The biped inclines their headpiece to look down at JakeM, one of the four arms pausing in its dance and sliding down and forward to JakeM’s level. “How’s that old kneepiece feeling, did you get down to see KimL yet?”
JakeM pauses and raps on the side of his left kneepiece, letting out a subaudible groan at the rattle that answers him. “Good to see you too, ShanR — and I did see KimL… there’s a shortage on Bel actuators for the entire archipelago. He hasn’t had a shipment for almost two lunars.”
“Sorry to hear that, JakeM.” ShanR’s free arm comes to a halt in front of JakeM’s right forearm, and, with a brief high-pitched consent chirp, a light flashes on both of their manuel effectors. “11 fights, 4 wins.” ShanR hesitates for just a moment too long. “Good, JakeM — your ratio is rising.”
JakeM nods, but he hears what’s been unsaid — he’s still not a winning combatant — there’s no way this is going to be sustainable for much longer. Another of ShanR’s arms comes to join them at the window, depositing in JakeM’s waiting effector a small plastic chip.
“50 per fight plus the 20 yan win bonus, less the 20 yan loss fee and the 5 yan fight levy … that’s 435 yan today, JakeM. Did you want to settle up with the Ring today as well? It looks like after today’s fights, with the interest from the past lunar, you have a 334 yan balance.”
101 yan. That would barely get him home. There’s no way.
“I need a little more time, ShanR. Can I settle up next time?” With a click, and a sharp whirr, ShanR’s two arms return to their activity behind the window. “Of course. But you know the interest increases above 300 yan, and RingCorp starts collections after two lunars — that’s in four rotations. Take care of yourself, JakeM.”
JakeM steps away from the window, inserting the paychip into a chipped interface in his lower thoracic. What ShanR doesn’t know is that RingCorp’s not his only debt. He’s got balance with circles on isles JAV, BAL, and ZEAL too, not to mention he hasn’t paid for spent fuel removal in at least seven lunars.
He begins to walk towards one of the Ring’s towering exit gates. All around him, bipeds, multipeds, and floaters swarm past, coming and going through the gates. Around his feet, smaller hexapeds scutter with the pinprick clacking of carbon fiber on the stonetype plating of the Ring’s lower utlity levels. And towering above him to each side, every footfall echoing throughout the chamber, the titan-class battle bots, thrumming with energy and hissing spent gaseous lithum, make their way to and from the center of the Ring. The main attraction — and the most expensive. One titan crosses directly in front of him, and JakeM swears to himself — the fragging bolter almost smashed him.
As he finally steps through the gate, opening up to the long corridor to transit station MAL4, he’s stopped by the sound of a long, pitched whistle. “Hey, you there — yes, you, the KolBel 14 with the fragged up leg.” JakeM turns, immediately annoyed, and with a low hum, four light panels illuminate on his two shoulder plates — demonstrating he’s entered a state of combat-readiness, though one of the panels flickers with an erratic twitch.
“Oh ho ho, easy big guy, no need to get all punchy. I saw you in the ring with that quadruped from NA_South12 — I know I wouldn’t last long with you. Though… perhaps long enough for the Ring corpos to depower us both.”
A jet-black floater drifts over from where she’d been docked in the shadow of the exit gate. Polished darkened steel, unpainted, and about half a meter long from crown to hoverfan, her oculars glimmer with an amused green. “Yes, I’ve been watching you for many cycles. Those fights you won today and the… many… you’ve been losing. Tell me, JakeM from SUM3 — you want to make some real money?”