Chapter 5: Part 5 - You Never Disappoint

It seemed impossible to Vasha that one of the most dangerous weapons in Tyria could have been right under her nose without her knowing it. She’d been to Rata Sum countless times. She’d walked its busy streets and even, when the mood took her, poked around its many workshops. One of them, apparently, belonged to the asura thief Jean was so friendly with. And inside…

“Long before your traitorous little suitor joined Light’s Memory, their guild was much smaller,” Artair had said. “There was an altercation, of sorts, between some of its members. One of their charr is a very interesting character indeed.”

Vasha didn’t ask how Artair knew. The sylvari had once gorged himself on knowledge as part of the Priory and now he had a thousand eyes in a thousand places. Nothing could stay secret from him for long.

Artair had leaned across his desk, pushing aside an empty cup to peer more closely at Vasha. “You’d appreciate Spark’s skills more than most, being a fellow engineer. That’s why I’m sending you to Rata Sum.”

None of the Talons were in Artair’s good graces. He’d been furious at their failure to retrieve Auri from the Shiverpeaks. Frankly, Vasha had been furious with herself. The longer that girl was stuck out in the wilds, the more danger she was in. Out of everyone in Tyria who might be able to keep her safe, Vasha truly believed Artair was at the top of the list.

Vasha straightened, putting her hands behind her back. “What am I looking for?”

Artair paused a moment. Though Vasha trusted him implicitly, there was something about his smile that made her shiver. “It’s called Souleater.”

Which was why Vasha was back in Rata Sum, keeping her head down whilst she sought out a particular workshop. It was, according to Artair, registered to an asura called Flikk and rarely used these days.

Vasha found it, eventually, down a long and dimly lit corridor. There was dust on the floor as though no one ever went that way. The only noise was a faint banging from a workshop overhead and a buzz in the walls that sounded like it came from faulty cables.

She could use that, though. If Artair was right ‒ if there really was something dangerous stored here ‒ she’d have to use every advantage she could get.

It was a moment’s work to lever off one of the wall panels beside the door. The cables were indeed faulty, because they’d wired up in the wrong order and were in danger of overheating. Vasha glanced both ways along the corridor, then quickly pulled two different wires apart and jammed them into the faulty connection.

There was a snap of electrical current and a puff of smoke from behind another wall panel. The fault would show up on a maintenance display somewhere, no doubt, but only as one more short circuit in a city that was surely brimming with them. By the time anyone came to look, she’d be long gone.

The lock on the workshop door had lost power. Vasha pulled a pry bar from her pack, wrenching the door open with a single heave. When she’d made enough of a gap, she slipped inside and let the door slide closed behind her.

The workshop was dark and silent, almost eerie. It was clearly more of a storage unit than an actual work space. Crates were piled in every corner, the tools and mechanical parts all neatly slotted into racks or held in boxes below the workbenches. A single golem stood to one side, looking almost melancholic with its bulky torso slumped and all its lights powered down.

Vasha turned in a slow circle. Souleater. A rifle, Artair had said, though even he couldn’t provide much more information than that. It was likely to be stored carefully, out of sight. It would probably be in some kind of locked container. That was all just common sense, though. Artair didn’t actually know much about it at all.

Or nothing he’d been willing to reveal, anyway. Vasha thought of his knowing smile and the hairs rose on the back of her neck. The name ‘Souleater’ didn’t bode well. Did Artair think it would be a useful bargaining chip, to get Auri back ‒ or did he mean to use it?

The tingling down Vasha’s spine was getting worse. Almost like… She was being watched.

The giant fist swung out of nowhere. Vasha yelped and leapt aside, crashing into a workbench hard enough to bruise her hip. She’d hadn’t heard the golem powering up, or seen a single light come to life. It was, in fact, running completely dark, emitting only the faintest hum. Not very flashy, in other words ‒ but perfect for taking a thief unawares.

The golem swung again and Vasha pivoted, reaching for a pistol as she did so. She got it unholstered, had it trained on the advancing golem ‒ and froze. Gunshots in the middle of the city were going to bring the Peacemakers down on her a lot quicker than faulty wiring would.

Cursing under her breath, Vasha shoved the pistol back and pulled out her pry bar instead.

It wasn’t much of a weapon, but what choice did she have? Between turrets, bombs, grenades, and her pistols, she wasn’t carrying a single weapon that would dispatch the golem silently. Besides, even the golem might be booby trapped. It might explode or set off an alarm of its own if it was disabled. Better to just keep her distance and find Souleater as quickly as possible.

Except the golem wasn’t making it easy. It lurched after her with surprising speed, flailing its arms almost too quickly to see. Vasha dodged and leapt, peering into crates and under tables with every manoeuvre. There was nothing that looked like a locked case or a safe in the wall, no blinking electronic locks or even padlocks to be seen.

And every time she paused, the golem swung for her, a huge grasping claw on one of its stubby arms threatening to lift her right off her feet.

Maybe… Maybe she could use that, too.

The golem swung again and this time Vasha was ready. She grabbed its claw with the curve of her pry bar, allowing it to haul her into the air. It lurched sideways, trying to throw her off, but Vasha activated her rocket boots with a snap of her heels and steadied herself in the air. The golem spun and jerked, almost smashing her into the nearest wall. Vasha held on, waiting for her moment.

There. The golem’s body turned one way whilst she soared in the other direction ‒ and the inner workings of its arm socket came into view. Vasha gave her rocket boots another blast, deftly freed her pry bar from the golem’s claw, and slammed it deep into its shoulder mechanism instead.

The golem jerked to a stop. For the first time, a series of lights flashed along the front of its torso. It seemed frozen, its damaged arm still raised, the claw rotating uselessly. Vasha stared at it, chest heaving. She was so distracted that she missed the moment when her rocket boots ran out of fuel. All she could do was flail her arms as the boots beeped once and she was dumped unceremoniously back to earth.

It didn’t matter. She lay there panting, the golem immobile and her pry bar still lodged in its shoulder. There was a chance those lights on its front indicated a security alarm, despite her best efforts. She had to move quickly.

Luckily, she’d already done exactly what she needed to do.

The golem’s back was heavily armoured ‒ more armoured, in fact, than any other part of it. An electronic lock gleamed right in the centre, but its lights were flashing in a symphony of disorder. Disabling the golem had disabled the lock. When Vasha scrambled upright, all she had to do was lever the golem’s rear panel open.

It swung open soundlessly and there was her prize. The slim case had been built right into the golem’s torso, not just locked away but protected by the golem’s defensive movements. Souleater. It had to be.

Vasha retrieved the case almost reverently, then placed it on an empty workbench and flicked it open. The rifle inside had been disassembled, but the parts were all there. To Vasha’s eye, it looked like every piece had been meticulously handmade. It didn’t look like a world-ending weapon, it had to be said, but the craftsmanship was still a sight to behold.

And now it was hers. Vasha snapped the case closed and swung it onto her shoulder. She cast a longing look at the pry bar ‒ that one was her favourite ‒ but decided to leave it where it was. She couldn’t risk the golem waking up again. Maybe, after that fight, the golem deserved to keep it.

Leaving the workshop was easy. So was leaving Rata Sum. Not even the Peacemakers were watching. Jubilation made Vasha’s heart beat a little faster and she felt like she was walking on air. She’d proved herself, once again, to Artair. Just as she always would.

She didn’t feel a shred of doubt until she got back to the Talons’ base. Artair gave every impression of not caring about her return; he was seated behind his desk, feet on the polished wood, a book in his hands. Vasha didn’t miss the glitter of his eyes as she closed the door behind her, though.

A glitter that was joined by a slow, expectant smile. He took the case from her in silence, laying it on the desk and snapping it open. In the warm lights of the study, the rifle looked even more beautiful ‒ and, for the first time, surprisingly deadly.

“Oh, Persimmon,” Artair breathed, in a tone that made Vasha shiver. “You never disappoint.”

Vasha cleared her throat. Artair didn’t mind his guild asking questions, if they were the right ones. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Well, now. That’s the question, isn’t it?” Artair raised his head. The look on his face, finally ‒ perhaps too late ‒ made fear trace Vasha’s spine. “But we’ll get to that. You have one last task to complete.”

Vasha had almost stopped breathing in anticipation.

Artair spread his hands over the rifle and smiled beatifically. “You’re going to put her back together.”