Chapter 1: The Path of Revenge

"Hey, Mr. Big Shot Amateur!"
I opened my eyes to the man who addressed me.  I noted his superior rank with some distaste, knowing full well it was simply because I had not yet been given a job that could actually show my skill.  Still, I had no choice but to treat him with respect, for now, or risk being held back in rank progression.
The man jerked his thumb over his shoulder.  "Ya got a client," he told me.  "Head down to-"
"I know what to do!" I snapped, then more calmly added, "This isn't my first job, you know."
He laughed.  "Yeah, this ain't your first job, tha's for sure.  Ya got yerself a bit of a reputation 'round the lower ranks, I hear.  Seem ta think yer sooo good, that ya can take all the jobs from the Elites."  He leaned down, his face barely inches from mine.  "Well just remember that ye'r just a lowly D-Rank.  Yeh've got yerself a lot've work to do before ya get any real respect around here."
To anyone else, this might have been humiliating.  Getting a speech about my low rank from a C-Rank.  For me, it simply increased the contempt I felt for this fool.  He just didn't get it.  After a quick scan of his abilities, I could tell that I could already take him in a straight fight.  I might have suspected he was masking his power, but, for how long he'd been here, there was no way he'd be that skilled and that low of rank.
"I understand, sir," I replied, with a hint of sarcasm on the last word.
He straightened and smirked down at me.  "Well I certainly hope you do."  With that, he left, probably going to harass some more lower-ranking mercs.
I got off my bunk and stretched, then grabbed my dark green trenchcoat and headed down the hall, putting it on as I walked.  I had left my sword in my room, since I was only going to get the mission briefing and check out my client.  Each D-level room was designed to have four people living in it at one time, but through some stroke of chance, I didn't yet have any roommates.  Just as well.  I didn't much like company.
The Missions room was on the ground floor.  I was two floors lower.  I started climbing the stairs.
Dragon's Claw HQ was a four-story building, with six basement levels.  The first floor was public access.  Missions, registration, excess equipment storage, stuff like that.  To get to the stairwell or the elevator, you needed to pass a retinal scan.
The fifth basement floor was the Arena.  Fights, generally including non-human or -demihuman mercs, were settled here.  Challenges were a very serious business, and they all had to be passed by the appropriate Mod.  Beating an opponent of higher rank would often result in you trading ranks with him, as deemed appropriate by the judges.  The judges also had the job of ruling the results of the fight.  This kept things more fair than simply who won the fight.  For instance, what if a high-Rank had a sibling who had just joined and wanted to help them through the ranks?  They could propose a challenge, then just throw the fight.
Well, enough about that.  Right above the arena is prisoner storage, and the M-Rank "living quarters."  Might I note the lack of distinction between the two, in my opinion.
Humans and demihumans started at E-Rank, which had its living quarters on the next floor up.  "Monsters" started at M-Rank, which was even lower.  The fairness of this had long been disputed.  In fact, it used to be that "monsters" weren't even admitted to join Dragon's Claw.  So the M-Rank was actually a positive reaction towards "monsters," though still discriminating.
The E-Rank rooms would house about 20 people each.  It was the lowest Rank a human or demihuman could have.  Actually, that's not quite right, because you have to complete one mission before you even get a Rank.  Usually, they were Dragon's Claw-run training missions, held in the Training Room (the bottom basement level).  Occasionally, they would elect to take a mission from a client.  This had the added benefit of getting paid.  It also meant that there was a chance of not making it back alive.  But, that was their choice.
Above E-Rank was D-Rank, where I was.  Then above that was C-Rank.  Each C-Rank room housed two people.  C-Rankers also were often the ones who brought assignments to the low-ranked mercs.  Probably because B and higher could choose their missions out of what was available, and you weren't supposed to go on floors for higher Ranks than yourself.
B-Rank was the first time you could get a room with a view.  Further, you finally got a room to yourself.  Third floor was A-Rank.  They got nicer rooms and were allowed to refuse a challenge issued by C-Ranks or lower.  Top floor was S-Rank.  They could refuse a challenge from up to B-Ranks.  S-Rank used to be the highest, until it started getting overfilled.  So they made the Elites.
Elites get their own personal bases and can refuse any challenge.  There were only 9 Elites currently.  I intended to be number 10.
I arrived at the Missions Room and went in.  The far wall had a large one-way mirror, allowing view into the next room.  On the right side of this room was a computer terminal, where we could view the mission summary.  I walked over to the mirror and looked into the briefing room at the client.  He was a middle-aged male.  He had a hood pulled over his head, so I couldn't tell if he was a human or an elf.  I did a quick ability scan on him and visually searched him for concealed weapons.  Nothing threatening.
I turned to the console and quickly typed my name, rank, and I.D.  It brought up the mission briefing.  A simple Item Extraction mission.  I didn't know anything about the area, but after a look at the reward, I could figure it was heavily guarded.  It was the Headquarters for some company named Mirrorsoft.  Often there'd be a photograph, or at least a drawing, of the item to be gotten, but not this time.  I was going to get computer files.
I pulled up the client's bio.  His named was William Setag, and it seemed he was an ex-employee at Mirrorsoft.  A rather important one, at that.  He'd been working on a cerain program when the company CEO decided to steal it from him and, when Mr. Setag protested, get him fired.  So now Mr. Setag wanted back what was rightfully his.  The bio also confirmed for me that Setag was a human.
Satisfied, I logged out of the console and proceeded to the room where Setag waited.  As I entered the room, he rose to greet me.
"Ah, you must be the mercenary I'm hiring," he said to me.  His voice sounded very business-like.
"Yes, I am," I responded.  "And you must be Mr. Setag."
"It's pronounced 'Setag,'" he corrected.  "The G sounds like the S in 'treasure.'"
"Oh," I said.  "I apologize."
"It's nothing," he responded casually.  "If you haven't heard it, it's easy to say it wrong."
I took a moment to study him.  He wore a black travel cloak over a black suit with matching black shoes and wore his black hair slicked back.  He could have stepped straight out of a black-and-white movie if not for his brilliant blue eyes.
"Well then...what is your name?" he inquired.
I hesitated, those unusual feelings of general distrust towards the human race swelling up for a moment, despite the fact that I myself was human...at least, as far as I could tell.  These strange feelings had gotten me to wondering if there was more about myself than I knew.  I quickly suppressed the feeling, though, and tried to act casual.
"My name?" I asked.  "My name is Nexus."