18+ The Hunt

Dah'Sharra, contrary to what she'd expected, was bored. The only, even remotely interesting things were the soldiers that went by every few minutes, patrolling, probably. The two other hunters had been inside for a long time, and she was starting to wish she'd brought something to read with her.

As if she'd had her mind read by some higher force, a vehicle pulled up to the sidewalk, obscuring her view of the apartment buildings entrance, and took off again, leaving behind six men that were trying and failing to look inconspicuous. "Well, well. What's this?" She peered through the scope of her rifle, lining up a shot as she did so. It was unlikely she'd take the shot with them out in the open, but it felt good to know she was able to do so.

One of the men was on his comlink, talking into it, listening, and then nodding. Then all six pulled out small, easily concealable, but powerful blasters and went inside. 'Today just got interesting'. Dah'Sharra brought her own comlink to her lips, and spoke into it. "I don't want to alarm you, but there's six armed bad guys coming to pay you a visit. I'll try to slow them down a little"

She couldn't see them from her positions, so she went down to ground level, and charged across the street, into the building they'd entered not two minutes ago. A pretty Dunmer receptionist was slumped over the desk, her body, the desk and the wall behind it riddled with enough blaster bolts to take out a small tank. The girl wasn't armed. They hadn't killed her in self defence. Simply because they could.

Dah'Sharra raced for the lift, where two of the men were just stepping inside. She was still lining up a shot when one of them turned and fired a stream of blaster bolts. The first two struck her in the shoulder and just over her ribcage. Her armour absorbed both shots, but it still felt like an Orc in steel toed boots had given her a good kick. She dropped and rolled, avoiding the other shots, but the lift doors had closed. She swore and rolled to her feet, and heard a door slam at the far end of the lobby. Stairs. She dashed towards the door.

Argus shook his head at the girls question. He tried to avoid contact with large scale mercenary groups as much as possible. They tended to bring nothing but trouble. However, seeing as Ataro had clearly hired some form of mercenary protection, and not the kind that watched from a discreet location, either. He knew as well as the others did that as soon as they made a move on their target, they'd be struck by her protectors from all sides. "Unfortunately, I know nothing of these Iron Hands, least of all how to contact them. I'd assume they're professionals, and like you said, a private army. They may have some standards that only allow them to work for certain, wealthy clientèle?" He shrugged.

Whether or not they were able to contact the group was irrelevant. He doubted any of them had enough credits to buy their loyalties. "At any rate, my friend and I will be investigating a lead. We will be back here before nightfall" he promised, and lead the large Khajiit after him, into the slums.

"You don't need to guess. Dorvalle's a Breton. Owns House Ambrosia, if I remember right. A pleasure house. Basically anything goes there, but you hurt Dorvalles' girls, and security escorts you out, usually with a blaster shoved in your back. Technically, his operation is illegal, but he pays alot to stay in business"
she wrinkled her nose. "I've been there a few times, hunting bounties. It's closer to the nightclubs in the entertainment district" she informed him.

He nodded. "So that'll be our next stop then. Maybe this Dorvalle has something useful to say" then his earpiece came to life. "I don't want to alarm you, but there's six armed bad guys coming to pay you a visit. I'll try to slow them down a little"

Apparently, they hadn't been nearly as subtle as he'd thought. "We've got company. Mercs, probably. We should-" a blaster bolt punched clean through the door, and Corvis dived for cover, drawing his blaster as he went. The door opened, and two men dashed inside, blasters up and firing. 'Well, this is the opposite of good'

The mans' warning was cut short as the mercs shot through the door. Not having her own blaster on her, she dived for cover, away from her fellow bounty hunter, heading for the kitchen. She doubted the small counter would provide much protection, seeing as the energy rounds had punched clean through the door and kept going. The two mercs advanced inside, spreading blaster fire around the apartment, seemingly not caring who or what they hit. Lyssa risked a glance around the corner, seeing two men, both wearing dark clothing, and holding powerful, pistols.

One of them must have seen her, because he cried out and switched his aim to her. Blaster bolts punched into the floor and wall, and Lyssa cursed, rolling away from the energy rounds. She drew one of her vibroblades, and stared doubtfully at it. The weapon was great close up, but not so much when you weren't wearing any armour and facing off against someone with plenty of power packs and a pistol. 'Come on, think' she told herself sternly. Charging out there with only a knife was suicide.

On the other hand, she couldn't cower behind the kitchen counter. That would just let the two men kill her companion, and come for her afterwords. While she didn't particularly like the man, dying like a cornered rat was no way to go out. After all, in the end, all a bounty hunter had was his or her dignity.

Mar had taught her to throw knives, once. She hadn't been very good at it, but she was out of options. Flipping the knife so that she held it by the tip, she popped up, facing her attacker, who'd been advancing steadily on her since his first volley of shots. She whipped her arm forwards, remembering to let go as it reached full extension. The vibroblade struck the man in the shoulder, and he cried out and dropped his pistol. She'd been aiming for his head, but she'd take what she could get.

Vaulting over the counter top, she drew her second blade. The man saw her coming, and swung his fist, trying to intercept. She ducked under the clumsy attack, straightened, and rammed the blade into one the arteries on his neck, twisting the blade to be sure of a kill, and stepping back to avoid the spray of blood. She dropped back into cover as the second man spared a few seconds to send a couple of shots her way. The other hunter was on his own.

Corvis managed a glance over the edge of the couch that was currently serving as his cover. One of the dark clothed men was advancing on the other hunters position, but the second man simply stayed in the doorway and opened fire on him. Corvis fired blindly over the chair, not knowing if he'd hit anyone. He heard a cry of pain from his left, and sounds of a struggle. Deciding to risk it, he glanced around the chair to see his companion take down the second man with only a vibroblade.

The man that had been concentrating on shooting him was distracted, glancing over at his fallen comrade. Now was his chance. Corvis jumped to his feet and opened fire. The bolts struck the man in the chest, and he stumbled backwards, but didn't go down. That was when he realized he was in real trouble. Lacking any other real options, he vaulted over the couch, and charged the man. Obviously, he hadn't been expecting a suicidal rush. Corvis crashed into the man, slamming him against the wall.

The man let himself fall, slamming a fist into Corvis' side, and the bounty hunter returned the favour with an elbow to the jaw. He was tough, Corvis would give him that. After a moment of struggle, he managed to get a good grip and yanked the mans' head to the side. His opponents neck snapped with a wet crunching noise. Corvis was breathing heavily. He could feel that he had a split lip, and his ribs weren't feeling so great either.

"Now, let's see if you're carrying any ID, pal..." he searched through the mans clothes, and made a satisfied noise when his hand closed on a wallet. He opened it and stared at the sigil underneath the mans' ID picture. "We have a serious problem. We just slotted two Imperial Intelligence agents"

Jessica didn't recognize the argonian who answered her question and his answer wasn't particularly helpful but he was at least interested and she appreciated that. There were a lot of cold people in this hunt, people who didn't seem to care about one another. It was understandable as they had all just met yesterday but Jessica found it strange. In the Red Sabres she was part of a crew. She felt camaraderie, compassion, trust. The crew of a starship, even a mercenary vessel, relied on each other. Not just because they needed to in order to survive but because they protected each other. They trusted each other and they all had a captain to rally around and support. They were a family. Jessica was worried that trust wouldn't come with such a disparate group. There were pairs and groups, but no greater whole as of yet. If that didn't happen, people were going to die.

"Good luck everyone." She said. "And good hunting."

Derek and Kyle left, as did the argonian and the large khajiit, leaving only her, Simus and Skylar. Both of them waited for her to head out and they would follow. They still wondered where Marek and Baroth were but they'd reveal themselves if it was important. They were fine.

Somewhere in the slums of Backlight, in the basement of a hardworking family (that owed certain favors to certain people), came the sounds of muffled pain and fist hitting flesh. A droplet of blood hit the floor, just as a song started in the background with a light upbeat tone and a repetition of piano notes. Slowly and smoothly, a voice emerged, possibly that of Redguard or Imperial origin, acting like a light in the mist, guiding the listener to stay tuned for more of the luscious song as it began.

Another muffled cry for help rang out as the singer went on.

"Unforgettable...."

The sizzling of molten hot metal hissed the smoke of burning flesh into the room's air, giving it an unnatural aroma.

"In every way..."

Three shots from a silenced .45 pistol went off, followed shortly by a muffled scream of pain.

"And forever more..."

The hollow crack of wood hitting bone earned yet another painful groan.

"That's how you'll stay....."

As the song went on, a bloodied Baroth backed away from the near-corpse of his past business partner, Jorgel Silivar; an Imperial druglord among the hundreds in Blacklight. He was an Overseer and an Adviser on the National Underworld Council (NUC), meaning no major deals or transactions on Blacklight's Black Market got by him without him knowing it. He also served as a useful ally and solid supplier for Baroth and Packel, back when they ran in the drug business together. Jorgel served happily and quietly as their business partner for a good sum of almost five years, until now. Until Ataro. Goddamn bitch.

Baroth wiped the length of his blood-covered arm along the his forehead, leaving it slick with crimson as he turned to hand the bat off to Packel, who was playing a game Baroth believed was called 'Flappy Bird' on his smartphone. He looked up and responded to Baroth's gesture by stuffing his phone in the back pocket of his suit and taking the blood-coated timber bat from Baroth as he turned back to Jorgel, crouching and pulling the muzzle down from his mouth, allowing Jorgel to gasp sharply and weakly. But Baroth gave him no time to recover before he bombarded him with the same questions as before. He was not only low on time and patience, but he felt the Caffeine X wearing off, so the drowsiness made it's home behind his eyes and in his chest; he was getting weaker by the minute. Damn this Ataro woman. He'd see to it she was dealt with, even if it wasn't his hand that delivered the final blow. And Jorgel, well, he'd make sure he spit something besides blood before the end.

Baroth waved his hand and snapped his fingers in front of the delusional man, whose vision was blurred beyond belief. He'd lost a lot of blood already, and Baroth feared his tactics may have cut his time short. Oh well, might as well get everything out of him while he was still breathing.

"Hey! Ass****! Get up! Come on, I don't have f***ing time for this! HEY! Did you hear me!? HUH!? I said get your f***ing ass up!"

Jorgel tried to speak but was only able to produce a weak groan. After a few seconds, he caught his breath and rolled his head to an angle where he could see Baroth and Packel. Bastards.

"You f***s...." He coughed, "...she'd f***ing kill me...if I.....gah! AH! AHHHH!"

Baroth pushed his thumb against one of the three bullet wounds to Jorgel's thigh, inserting his finger to the top of the nail and wiggling it around which caused Jorgel himself to go absolutely insane with pain.

"Do i look like i give a f***!? Huh!? F*** Ataro! I'll do worse if you don't start talking."


"I can't....she'll take everything from....me.."


Baroth sighed and massaged the ridge of his nose, nodding to Packel as he stood. "Do it." He said, just as Packel rammed the buttend of the bat into Jorgel' nose, breaking it with a sickening snap. After breaking Jorgel's nose, Packel swung the bat into his chest several times as Baroth walked over to a metal table on Jorgel's left, against the wall. He picked up a car battery with 12 volts and two jumper cables and set them at Jorgel's feet, motioning Packel to stop. Baroth decided to give Jorgel one last chance to avoid hell.

"Now i'm going to politely ask you again: Who bought those stimulants and who is their employer? Huh? Because as of right now, you have," He checked his watch. "..seven to ten minutes before you bleed to death. And i'll even cut you a deal. You tell us what we need to know, and we'll kill you quickly. Sound good?"

"....F...F*** YOU! I'M F***ING DYING HERE, AND YOU WANNA QUESTION ME? HUH?! F**- GGMMM! GMMMMM!"

Baroth placed the muzzle back on Jorgel's mouth and took a deep breath. The man had balls of steel, Baroth would give him that. But his pride would be his death in a few minutes. Bastard. Baroth nodded to Packel, who walked back to the metal table and turned off the radio, instead turning on a tune with a deep based banter and light upbeat to it every few courses. The song itself suggested death and despair. It was unclear to Baroth why Packel liked hearing songs when he did things like this, but Baroth figured it out a long time ago. It inspired him.

Baroth took one of the jumper cables and handed it off to packel, keeping the other for himself. While Baroth hooked his cable on Jorgel's nose, Packel hooked his cable on Jorgel's crothch, inducing a strong surge of surge of electricity throughout his nervous system. They let this go on for about twenty more seconds, before unhooking the cables and allowing Jorgel to respite, in which session he groaned and yelled franticly under his muzzle. Baroth allowed him to talk.

"GAH! AHHH! Al...Alright! Alright....I'll talk...just...ah!....Gods forgive..me....ok!...It was Ataro who employed a group....known as the Iron Hands to buy out most of our product... She just...came in to my place one day, like she knew where it was by heart...Like she knew where it was... Now...you'll let me go, right?"

Baroth stood and walked past Packel, grabbing his right hand gauntlet and pushing his hand into it, the menu options coming up as white letters on a blue background in the small rectangle of his forearm optics. One of them read 'Activate Armor Up' and Baroth tapped it with his left hand, which opened a new tab that required a thumbprint. He pressed his thumb against the indicated area and saw the menu flash green and return to the original menu. Within seconds, he was fully armored again, besided his helmet, which he tucked under his arm as he faced Packel. he nodded to the dying body of Jorgel.

"You mind finishing up here for me. I have someone to talk to."

"Finish up...how? OH, That's right! How should i dispose of the uhh...the garbage?"

Baroth turned on his heel and began up the stairs out of the basement, leaving Packel with Jorgel.

"I am sure you will figure that out ."

As baroth left, Packel turned to Jorgel, who's expression turned from small hope to absolute fear.

"Right.."

Two shots from a silenced pistol came from the basement, which inclined Baroth to look back only for a minute, before pushing off to the safehouse. He needed to find Derek, as much as it pained him. Gods know the group was probably already suspicious of his actions. More than that, he needed to find Simus.

(OOC: Sorry about the sucky quality towards the end. I was working on this for a few days, on/off. Hope you guys enjoy it either way. I'll edit it tomorrow.)

They'd walked for another twenty minutes, and the man was still following, attempting to be discreet, of course, but the two experienced bounty hunters knew how to pick a target out of a crowd. This man was no different. He may have thought he was, but in the end, he was just some thug with a blaster. Nothing Kyle and his father couldn't handle. 'Do I really think of him as my father?' It was a stupid question. Of course he did. Without Derek, Kyle would have died a dozen times over. He owed the man everything.

Now, he faded against the wall, and the would be assassin passed by him, his eyes fixed on the green armour plate that covered Dereks back. Derek ambled along, seemingly oblivious to the man, head down, arms swinging idly by his sides. The very picture of an excellent target. Or someone who was killing time, waiting for back up. The man following him appeared not to pick up on the subtle movements that told Kyle that his father was waiting for him to make his move. Perhaps he'd skipped that part in the assassins textbook.

Either way, it was too late for the man now. Kyle counted slowly to twenty, giving Derek and his follower a good lead, before emerging from his alcove. The man was still not looking behind him. 'Stupid. And dead' he thought to himself. Derek turned left, down a dead end alley, as they'd discussed. The man picked up his pace, hand shooting into the pocket of his black pants. Kyle followed. By the time he'd turned the corner into the alley, the man had drawn a stub nosed, silenced pistol, and was pointing it at Derek, who stood at the end of the alley, arms crossed, and looking thoroughly unimpressed.

"I have to say, I expected a little more finesse. Don't you know we bounty hunters have eyes in our backsides?" The man hesitated, and that was when Kyle struck. He drew one of his pistols and jammed it into the mans' back, then wrapped his free arm around the mans' neck, cutting off his startled gasp. "Just because you're following someone, doesn't mean someone isn't following you, scumbag" he hissed in the mans ear. The filtering of the helmet only made him sound more intimidating. "Drop the pistol." The weapon fell to the sand.

Derek stepped forwards and searched through the mans pockets. "ID, a few cash creds, what's your deal, friend? I don't need to look to know this is fake" he flicked the ID card with his finger. The man sneered.
"I'm part of something great. Part of something lowlife thugs like you will never understand" he rasped. Kyle increased the pressure, the metal of his gauntlet pressing hard against the mans' throat. "Have a little respect. We're professionals. A couple of lowlife thugs would have just shot you in the street"

"Easy, son. We don't want him dead just yet" Derek said cautiously. Despite Kyles' calmness, he was dangerously close to just snapping the mans' neck and being done with it. But they needed information, something this one obviously had. "You're right. I'll have a nice chat with him and rendez vous with you back at the safe house" Derek hesitated. He knew what a 'chat' meant in this situation. But he nodded, and headed past him.

Kyle went about securing transportation, shoving the man in the trunk of the vehicle, and driving to the spaceport, where he picked up a few 'tools' from the Nomad. Then it was back to the slums. The great thing about the slums is that there were plenty of abandoned buildings to choose from. Kyle selected a warehouse that hadn't been used for years. There was, however an old chair, surprisingly sturdy. In seconds, he had the prisoner secured to the chair.

The man glared at him as he removed his gauntlets, gloves, and helmet. He set them on a table, along with his blasters and the bag of tools he'd retrieved from the ship. "I'm going to give you one chance to tell me what I want to know: Where is Kaylin Ataro?"
"I don't know" Kyles fist lashed out almost before the man had finished speaking. His fist connected with the mans' throat, and he rocked back, almost knocking the chair over. Kyle waited for him to finish gasping and coughing.
"Once more. Don't lie to me again. Where is Ataro?"
The man sneered. "She told me you can kiss her-"
A snarl of rage, and a swift strike, and the man doubled over, coughing. But when he looked up, there was no fear in his eyes. Yet.

That was fine. He had all day, and it wasn't his first time 'chatting' with someone he needed information from. "Try again" the mans only respond was a glob of spit that splattered against his chest plate. Kyle would have liked to simply kill the man and be done with it, but he couldn't. Not until he had his intel. He retreated out of the poor light provided by a single, flickering ceiling light.
"We've got all day, friend."

"Forget about it." Muttered the man. Kyle snorted. It was never that easy. He turned to his tool bag, and retrieved a hammer, the head rounded. The mans knuckles were perfect targets. Kyle struck like lightning, the hammer smashing down on one knuckle after the other. Bones broke and the man screamed.He panted, his dark brown eyes meeting Kyles green ones. Though tears streamed from the mans' eyes, there was no fear. "Is that your best?I was expecting something original"

"Shut up. Unless you're going to tell me Ataros' location" Kyles next blow shattered the mans' left kneecap. Well, the man certainly wouldn't be using that leg again. "You son of a bitch! I've got plenty to say to you!" Kyle cut him off with a fist to the face. The mans' nose started bleeding profusely. "Oh, just you wait. One of these days, it's gonna be you in this here chair, and then we'll see who's having the fun, huh?" The man chuckled, obviously amused by his petty threats.

Kyle returned the hammer to the bag, and brought out a long bladed knife, that curved slightly. "You don't think I know who you are? Varastian? You killed a few of my colleagues, a little while back" it was time to change tactics. He needed results, not an endless stream of insults. The black void that he'd had at the very core of his being ever since the Glory started spewing out thoughts that he couldn't deal with. Not at the moment, anyways. "Try to concentrate. Or I'll have to do something regarding your ability to reproduce"

The mans' eyes strayed to the knife blade, then back to Kyle. Then he threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, come on. I've heard better threats from a little girl!" 'I don't have time for this. Not if we want to catch Ataro before she's off world'. He felt raw, snarling anger claw its' way out of the dark void, and didn't even try to clamp it down. It was time this scumbag knew real fear.

The blade sang as it whipped around to bite into flesh. Kyle struck again, and again, at any exposed flesh he could see. After what seemed like any eternity, but was probably just seconds, the man screamed.

"Stop!" Kyle hesitated. He could see the glimmer of fear in the mans eyes now. He was crying. Blood from a scalp wound ran down his face. Then the void took over once more, and the bounty hunter smiled coldy. "No."
He started again, his mind shutting off, letting his body go on auto-pilot. The knife was replaced by fists, which were then replaced by an electro-prod. The mans' convulsions weren't pretty.

Eventually, he stopped to take a drink from his canteen. The man stared, blinking furiously, trying to get the blood out of his eyes. "Ah. Refreshing." He replaced the closed canteen on his belt. "Now I think I'll make good on my promise about damaging your ability to reproduce. Any last words?" The man grinned at him. The he chuckled, then he burst out into peals of laughter. Tears ran down his face, and he bent over, gasping for breath. "Something funny?" Kyle rammed the electroprod into the mans armpit. He grunted, but his laughter continued unabated.

"You-I" then he broke into fresh laughter. Kyle struck him across the face then, hard. Hard enough to nearly topple his chair. "You are going to shut up right now!" He roared, frightening the man into silence.
"I-Don't know anything" he said.
A cold, empty feeling settled into his guts. "You're lying" 'Please, please tell me you're lying'
"Nope." The man said triumphantly "some guy approached me in the streets, gave me a nice stack of creds to follow you two around an' keep my mouth shut. He's probably in the next sector by now, with this Ataro woman"
He laughed again. "And the best part is, you need to let me go, now you know I don't have any info."




He felt panic gnawing at his innards, and he disappeared into the shadows, calming himself. Finally, he picked up his pistol, checked the charge and stepped forwards. "That's where you're wrong." All traces of mirth vanished from the mans' face. "Very wrong"

"Hey, no, wait a minute..." the man stammered

"You admitted yourself you know nothing. Which makes you useless to me" He stated calmly.

"Wait!" Kyle levelled the blaster.

"You do know something?"

"No-"

"Shut up" He said quietly.

"No!" Bdapp. The mans head snapped back, a scorch mark in the center of his forehead. There was no blood, not with a blaster. In the silence, he could hear his own breathing, and the quiet hum of the lighting. The mans eyes stared at him, dead, blank portals. Kyle had decided a long time ago that it was the eyes that disturbed him the most in this line of work.

"I said, shut up. Scum." He muttered, holstering his pistol.

He pulled out his comlink, and called Derek. His father answered. "I'm sorry, dad. We're going to have to find another way"

"Don't worry, son. Just get back to the safe house. We'll sort it out later"

"Okay. I'll just finish cleaning up here, then I'll head over"

He retrieved a two litre can of accelerant, and doused the dead man, the chair, table and floor with it, saving some for the speeder he'd 'borrowed'. Using a rag, he wiped the blood off of his hands as best as he could, put on his helmet, grabbed his gloves and gauntlets, and headed to the door. Another shot from his blaster and the warehouse went up in flames. He jumped into the speeder and headed out, knowing he'd need to dispose of it as well.

Dah'Sharra eased the door to the stairwell shut, glad that it didn't screech on its' hinges. She crept up one flight of stairs, and stopped. She could hear voices on the landing above her. "I still can't raise Ross or Pol" one man was saying. "Relax" the other said. "They're probably just finishing up with those two suits we saw going into her room" the other man grunted something. Sharra crept up the stairs until she could see all four of them, each with his eyes glued to the landing above them. Which was rather stupid, all things considered.

She sighted up on the man on the right and at the back of the group, beside one other. Her shot took him in the kidney, and he fell, a fist sized hole through him. The noise of the blaster shot echoed throughout the stairwell, and the other three men turned, their hands going for their weapons. Her second shot took the man on the left in the chest, which flung him backwards into his pal. The second to last caught a bolt in the ribs, and the last got to his feet in time to have most of his skull eradicated. She took a moment to examine her work, resting her rifle against her shoulder, and pleased with the knowledge that her skills were still sharp.

Then she lifted her comlink to her lips. "If you two are still alive, the stairs are clear. I'll be waiting for you by the speeder." With that, she headed back downstairs and outside. No security forces or soldiers had converged on the area.But it was only a matter of time, and she preferred to be long gone before then.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her fellow bounty hunter freeze. Then he spoke up. "We have a serious problem. We just slotted two Imperial Intelligence agents" Lyssa froze, careful to keep her face neutral. Imperial Intelligence, along with most other branches of the Empire had been after her ever since she'd helped Mar kill his former master and escape.

Somehow, though, she didn't think that the Imperials were after her. There'd been a dozen different opportunities to take her out, along with Mar, before now. Besides, most agents had the brains not to follow a target into an unknown location. She'd been about to say something, when the Khajiit hunter spoke up. "If you two are still alive, the stairs are clear. I'll be waiting for you by the speeder."

'Make that six dead Imperial agents' she thought grimly. "I guess we'd better get a move on. I'll call Derek and let him know what happened." She noticed that the man was bleeding, from a split lip that was probably less than comfortable. "I can patch that up." She stepped forwards, and lifted her hand.

The man looked like he might object, but before he could, she called on her healing powers, directing them towards his lip. The blood flow stopped, and the damage receded, until their was only a faint white line, marking where the damage had been. She grinned at him, and lifted her comlink. "Derek? It's Lyssa. We may have a problem on our hands. We just killed six Imperial agents"

After the detour he'd taken that allowed Kyle to capture the man following them, he'd remained in the slums. He still had work to do. He headed deeper into the slums eventually coming across a man that he knew would have at least something to tell him. The Dunmer weapons dealer was in a crowd of his 'peers' characters that made even the most twisted Thalmor look like a saint.

They saw him coming, and noted that his hands were at his sides, one hand hovering over his blaster pistol. Their own hands shot into their leather jackets, and Derek spoke. "Don't be stupid. I've got range and armour" he kept moving forwards, a bold move for anybody else, but for him, the closer he was, the more damage he could do. The small metal spikes on his gauntlets weren't just for show.

"Clear out. I need a word with your buddy." He nodded to the single Dunmer that was sitting on an old crate, and the only one who hadn't gone for a weapon. The other Dunmer shot him glares and departed, leaving just the bounty hunterand the dealer. The elf sighed, a pained expression on his face. "Damn it, Varastian. I wish you wouldn't do that. I gotta eat, y' know"

"Sorry. I'm looking for someone that ordered a lot of weapons. I don't mean self defence kit, either. We're talking serious hardware" he dropped a high denomination credit chip into the mers not so discreetly extended palm. A glimmer came to the mans eye.

"You came to the right place. I just so happen to have heard of such a transition. But, Varastian, you don't want to mess with these people. The hardware they brought in, armour or not, you're toast. I think they're based somewhere on the outskirts of the city. It's my guess they've bribed quite a few people to keep their mouths shut and leave 'em alone"

Donath nodded, and left the dealer. He wasn't planning on taking on the mercs at all, if he could help it. But the elf didn't need to know that. He turned back towards the safehouse, strolling at a leisurely pace, when his comm went off. He answered and heard Lyssas' voice. "Derek? It's Lyssa. We may have a problem on our hands. We just killed six Imperial agents"

Derek nearly missed a step. He didn't bother reacting to the news, yet. Not without more info, anyways. "Okay. Meet me at the market square, where near the space ports. Corvis and Dah'Sharrah know where I mean, and we'll get it sorted"

Baroth trudged along the sand filled streets of the slums, accurately following his memory of the city's layout as he and Oracle discussed what she had uncovered in the records for Eregin's Black Market Trade History within the past three months. Whatever she had found, it had made her anxious, jumpy; she, for the first time in a long while, was afraid. And not just for herself.

"So basically, Whatever group Kaylin hired,-"

"The Iron Hands."

"Yea yea, whatever. The Iron Hands, have not only done their dirty work for Ataro, but managed to f*** off every small-time dealer and past-glory druglord on their way up the ladder after dealing with them and successfully transferring the product?"

"Exactly. And they don't just f*** them off, they kill them, their associates, clean out their warehouses and labs, and burn it down in under a day, salvaging what they can. I did some research on them, ju-"

"How much?"

"Not that much. Why?"

"Packel told me a little about them after Jorgel....whatever. But from what i was told, they don't fancy playing around. What you said about their dealings, based on what i hear, it's absolutely accurate. We'd do well to stay out of their way."

"Well, yea, but if we have to- Wait. What did you say?"

"I said: We'd do well to stay out of their way. Why did- Oh haha, very f***ing amusing."

"Yea, yea. But moving on, we may have to deal with them one day, Baroth. I mean they're f***ed up and all, but we've faced worse."

In saying that, Oracle thought back to Kraguul and how he had first appeared to them. Savages she had dealt with before, criminals and lunatics were nothing new, But Kraguul always managed to surprise, outsmart, and, on several occasions, nearly kill them. Baroth had never really explained where he came from, let alone what their history together was. In fact, he didn't even really explain where he himself came from. But Oracle had followed enough of his conversations to form a weak hypothesis, which she highly doubted was true. Either way, they found themselves in the middle of another s***storm and would have to hustle once again to get out of it alive.

And more importantly: Together.

Though, neither admitted to that fact as of yet.

Baroth just nodded as he rounded a corner, which revealed another long street through the slums. The roar of a speeder caught his attention and he quickly jumped to the side of the road, narrowly avoiding the reckless driver, who continued to round the next corner ahead. The dust caught his eye and led him to see a fair sized group of cloth-armored men, with what looked like laser weapons, huddled around an entrance to an alley. The were originally studying Baroth but took their eyes off him for a moment at their own alarm to the speeder.

This confirmed his suspicions.

Shaking his head as if to shake off the dust from the winds, he continued his trot towards the group as they stood up straight and nodded to each other. Baroth knew the drill.

"Up ahead. You see this?"

"Saw it and analysed it. Stay quiet and i'll handle it, alright. Run some I.D. scans on their faces, will ya'?"

Oracle simply nodded and fizzed off his visor, going into her full-control mode, which allowed her to see from Baroth's visor. She ran, encoded, and matched up each of the men's faces with the Residential Records of Blacklight's Database. The search loaded as Baroth came to a halt before the men, who seemed to study him further before one of them, second to the back, nodded to the last one closest to the gate which led into the alley. The man, with light black stubble on his chin and one blind eye, opened the gate latch and pulled it fully open, the bottom of it skidding in the sand as it fully came to a stop.

Baroth never took his gaze from the gathered men.

Who sent them?

Who paid them?

Who found them?

It didn't matter as of now. He'd have to cross that bridge when he came to it. For now, he started naming. The group varied and he'd prefer to know the man he was killing, at least what he looked like.

The first man to his right, within a few feet of himself, had his onyx hair in a tight knotted ponytail, like that of an Orc. He was a Redguard. Baroth named him Braid.

The next, to his left and a few more feet from the other, had a scar that curved from the top of his right eye and ended at the bridge of his nose. He was a Redguard. Baroth named him Scar.

The third man, this one a little closer to the entrance of the alley, had a tattoo of what looked like some sort of serpentine dragon on his right cheek. He was an Orc. Baroth named him Tagface.

The fourth man, the one that had opened the gate, Baroth had already named. Peachfuzz.

And finally, the fifth man, the one who seemed to be in the center of the gathered men, nodded to the others and motioned for them to enter the alley. Boss it is, then.

Baroth followed with closed contempt, falling in behind Boss and into the dusky alley. As he walked, the men casually stripped him of his weapons and grenades, leaving him with nothing. That made no difference. The gate was covered with a plastic green sheet, likely to cover up the mugging, but it mattered little. They would all be dead soon. Besides that, Baroth highly doubted the fence would stop the sounds of live gunfire from laser weapons. Either way, Baroth wasn't here just to kill these men, but at least find out who sent them.

There were a few drainpipes and sandstone walls of other buildings on either side of the alley, likely other houses. At the end of the alley, there was a green metal dumpster against a short brick wall; an easy escape if things went sour. Which they were. Boss held up a hand and the rest of the men stopped, clutching their weapons close to themselves and some aiming. Baroth glanced back and saw Braid to his right, Scar to the left with his gun raised slightly, Tagface in the not-so-middle blew him a cold glare, and Peachfuzz at the back, his eyes darting from person to person, his weapon, a semi-automatic machine gun, held close to himself.

Boss reached on the side of the dumpster and pulled out something gray and shiny. Getting a closer look, Baroth saw that it was a bat.

A metal bat.

Steel, by the looks of it.Boss pointed the bat at Baroth's chest, the distance between them leaving the bat awfully well within reach. Boss cracked a smile. Under his helmet, Baroth smirked.

Boss arched his eyebrows, as if he were angry, but the smile threw it off.

"You talk too much."

"And, what exactly am i talking about?"

"You know what i'm talking about."

"No, i don't. S***, i don't even know what you're talking about me talking about. How am i supposed to know what you're even talking about?"

Boss's expression faded slowly. He must have grown tired of the meddling. He reached for a two-handed grip on the bat.

"You dig too much."

Baroth raised his hands, as if to reveal his innocence.

"Hey, who said i wasn't digging your graves?"

A few moments of laughter go by between Baroth and Boss. The men behind them grunt and snicker quietly.

Suddenly, Boss swung the bat with two hands in an arc at Baroth's temple. Baroth caught the motion as it happened and raised his arm over it and wrapped his left hand around the lower-half of the bat, near the handle. After absorbing the impact to his armored left side, he yanked the bat to towards himself and smashed his fist into the bridge of Boss's nose, breaking it and quite horribly, ruining it. No sooner than he did that, he rammed his armored foot into Boss's chest which threw him back against the dumpster. Almost instantly, he unsheathed a metal pistol strapped to his thigh and pointed it towards Baroth's lower stomach.

He never fired a shot.

Baroth swung the bat in a reverse grip and, in midswing, he spun the bat and grabbed it in a two-handed grip as it connected with Boss's cheek. Baroth thought he heard something crack.

As Boss knelt by the dumpster in excruciating pain, Baroth fell into a crouch and threw the bat into Scar's chest, knocking him to the ground with a hard thud. Then quickly turning and standing, he kicked Boss's head into the front of the dumpster with full force, leaving a bloodied dent behind. He quickly reached down and grabbed Boss by the back of the collar and pulled him to his feet and positioned him between Baroth and the first round fired.

As if on cue, the rest of the men, out of panic or alarm, opened fire on Boss in hopes of hitting Baroth behind him. Yea, they panicked. He began walking with his human shield and advancing in the alley, the shooters unrelenting in their volley. Baroth had already taken the Boss's pistol and leveled it with Braid's chest, firing a few shots and eventually hitting him in the face. Without a moment to think, Baroth pushed Boss's corpse forward and dove out from behind it. He came up in a roll and was met with Tagface running up on him firing like a madman. He felt a sting in his right shoulder as he reached up, grabbed the Orc's wrist, and smashed his right fist into Tagface's jaw. Then, in one quick second, he took Tagface's pistol, grabbed him by the back of the head, and threw him to the right, into a wall.

He looked up and saw Scar in a kneel, gun raised and aimed for Baroth's abdomen. Swiftly, Baroth jumped to the side on the right wall just as Scar opened fire, shimmying along the wall as Scar turned and shot closer to him. Once within range, Baroth grabbed the end of Scar's gun, and raised his own between his eyes, pulling the trigger. Scar's head jerked back, as if he'd been punched, and he fell to the ground. Lifeless.

Flipping the rifle around so that he was wielding both, Baroth aimed at Peachfuzz and squeezed the trigger, but not before Tagface's fist connected with Baroth's helmet. Both bodies clashed, and there was a few minute struggle. Peachfuzz got confused, his aiming was off; he had no target, and if he missed, he'd hit the wrong body.

Exactly what Baroth wanted.

After the struggle, Baroth managed to force Tagface into submission by stomping on his leathered foot and head-butting him. Then he turned him around and placed the pistol against his head and aimed the rifle under his armpit. Peachfuzz was at a stalemate, though he aimed his gun with deadly intent. There was silence for a moment, then Baroth spoke.

"You gonna do it, Peachfuzz? Huh?"

He tilted his head at the nickname and steadied his weapon.

"P-peachfuzz?"

"Yea. That's a nickname I gave you. You know, because of the.. Ah, nevermind. Anyways, you're not gonna shoot this guy, are you?"

"Wha- No, no."

"Positive?"

"Yea."

"You sure?"

"Yes, God damn it!"

"Alright."

He raised his right foot and smashed it into Tagface's shin, snapping it with a sickening crunch. Without a second thought, he raised the pistol and shot Peachfuzz in the knee, momentarily stunning him. Spinning on his heel, dropping the pistol, and raising the rifle, Baroth fired several times and left Peachfuzz with a smoking chest. he stumbled for a second, tried to raise his gun, but shot into the ground instead just before he died.

When he died, Tagface saw his chance and tried to jump up and grab Baroth but met only the butt of his rifle instead. He smashed into the sand with a loud thud and he yelled in both anger and adrenaline. Baroth ignored his cries of anguish and simply walked over to where his weapons were and retrieved them. After gearing up, he walked over to Tagface, placed a foot on his throat, pulled his V8 energy pistol from his thigh, and leveled it between his eyes.

"Now i'm only gonna ask once: Who sent you?"

The Orc spat on his armor.

"There ya go. Ataro's base for all of her illegal mercs." Skylar pulled the speeder she'd 'procured', she loved that word, over to the side of the dirt track that passed for a street and nodded towards the chain-link gate at the end of the road. Beside her, Jessica leaned forward to get a better look at the compound while Simus, who was in the back seat, stopped his gawking at the city around him long enough to stare through the windshield along with the women.

After the safe house had cleared out Skylar had led Jessica and Simus out of the slum district and into one of the more wealthy parts of the city. After a few minutes spent roaming the streets she spotted what she was looking for. A Mercator Splinter sat at idle on the road side, its owner having ran into a nearby shop. The newest of Mercators high performance line, the Splinter was a sleek, elegant, and very powerful machine that had been setting records across the galaxy for nearly the last decade. Skylar had wanted one since the day they hit the market. The only problem was that it wasn't exactly a subtle vehicle, it would no doubt turn heads as it passed people by, but then again, 'The opposite of subtlety is ostentatiousness. Hide in plain sight. No one would expect that a crew of bounty hunters would be riding around in this,' She'd thought with a grin. It had only taken her a moment to disengage the lock on the door with a program on her 'pad and the three of them had piled in an sped off down the street before the previous owner even knew what had happened.


Simus had kicked up a stink about what he saw as 'theft' but he quieted down when Skylar assured him that she would get it back to the person, although he didn't appear very convinced. From downtown it had taken about ten minutes to reach the outskirts of Blacklight and then another twenty to locate the, "Disaster relief compound" that her boss had told her about.

The compound was located about fifteen kilometers outside the city center. Far enough that people could come and go with little fear of being bothered by any curious locals. Skylar also suspected that the compounds distance from the city was simply to facilitate its size. A chain link fence backed by a twelve foot energy barrier cordoned off what looked like at least a couple square miles worth of Erigins countryside. With the help of a pair of macrobinoculars, Skylar was able to spot more fences and barriers dividing up the interior of the compound into smaller quadrants. Turning her gaze towards the checkpoint directly ahead of them she spotted only a few guards. Behind the checkpoint, she saw a squat grey building that looked like some sort of bunker; probably the guards barracks.

"Not the kind of security I was expecting," She said as she snapped a couple of pictures with her data-pad, "Either of you want to get a closer look, or do you just want to head back and tell the others about this place?"

"I can patch that up." The woman said, and it took Corvis a moment to realize she meant his split lip. He frowned at her as she lifted her hand, and seemed to concentrate. Then, to his astonishment, he felt his lip just stop bleeding and close up. It didn't even hurt anymore, and Corvis found himself feeling the location of the split, finding only a slightly raised little scar. 'Magic. Impressive.' Then she turned away and began speaking with Derek, filling him in on the situation. He heard Derek tell them to meet him at the square where they'd first met up after landing on Eregin.

She ended the call, and Corvis went to the door. "I know where he means. Let's go. And...thanks for-" he gestured to his lip. It hadn't been a major wound, but knowing she could put aside their differences long enough to help him out. This time, anyways. The pair of them met up with the Khajiit sniper, and climbed into the speeder. Corvis drove them back to the market square, to await Dereks' arrival.

Simus said nothing during the trip to the "relief compound." He had objected when Skylar stole the speeder they were in and he even tried to stop her but her strong grip and fearless demeanor told him that she wasn't to be messed with. She promised that they would return the vehicle and that it was critical to their mission. He didn't like it but he went along with it. He was still a stranger to this world and he couldn't afford to make any more enemies than he already had.

He took in as much about the compound as possible. Every tree, every guard, every patrol route, every detail. They may need to come back here and even if they didn't he had long ago established the habit of observing his surroundings as much as possible when staying put for any amount of time. It had saved his life more than once, and the lives of others. When Skylar asked what they wanted to do, head back or keep observing, he felt the answer was obvious so he let Jessica answer for him.

"We should stay here and gather as much information as we can. This has to be the Iron Hands' base of operations in this area or at least their largest presence on the planet.". This was not the answer Simus was expecting and he had to object.

[=#008000]"What?! Jessica, we have to get back to the city! We need to return this speeder. For all we know we stole it from a local crime lord who could send goons to slow us down. And move your phone, you're sitting on it and it's hard to hear."[/COLOR]

"Oh, sorry.". She said, moving her phone onto her lap so she wasn't sitting on the speakers. "There we go. Now, yes we do need to return this vehicle but we're here now and we should take advantage of the time we have because...What the fluff?". She suddenly said after a pause. She had just gotten a text from Baroth telling her and Simus to meet him in some alley back in the city. "How the hell did he get my number?".

"Who? Who got your number?". Simus asked.

"Baroth. Somehow he got my number and he wants to meet with us. In ten minutes. I swear that guy could teach Mengsk a few things about paranoia.".

[COLOR=#08000]"Don't judge him too harshly. He's been through more than any of us. If I were him I'd be crazy by now. Let's get to his meeting area and see what he wants. Can you get us there?"[/COLOR].

"Mhmm. Remember that little monocle Baroth gave you earlier? It'll let you see navigation markers that show you where something important is. It's called a NavPoint. Turn it on and I'll show you where to go. Skylar, you can see it too so you can see where to drop us off.".

They soon arrived back in town but they were ten minutes late. The drive back took the fifteen minutes Baroth had allotted them and his meeting place was difficult to find. Skylar dropped them off and they were turned around several times when the NavPoint tried to lead them through solid walls. When they did arrive at the red dumpster next to two black trash cans, no one was there.

In the alley he described, in a small space behind the red dumpster, Baroth waited, listening for the sounds of heavy and light footsteps. Something told him this whole trust-no one thing wasn't going to end well for him, and the bad effects were already beginning to suck. And while having few to no friends, running from crimelords, dealing with old greivances, and smelling the remains of some poor infant's diapers was bad, after dealing with Kraguul and now having this new thug of his coming in, Baroth was left with little choice. Besides, it would be smarter trust a rock or a fly rather than a bounty hunter or a mercenary. One of the things their job depended on was deception, one sometimes more than the other.

But in the vast array of things, when it really came down to making this choice and that, two things were certain.

He didn't enjoy it.

And he felt f***ing ridiculous stuck behind this god damned dumpster.

Oracle notified him that she had received the tracking signal of a GPS module of some sort, likely NavPoint, as it was most popular. Looking around, Baroth thanked the gods he was wearing his helmet and tweeked the on-screen tracking of the incoming GPS module with the help of Oracle, which he then used to track the NavPoint signal display into the alley. He waited a few seconds, letting the pair realize he was no where to be found, before stepping out from behind the dumpster, his plasma gun raised and aimed.

First, he scanned the area physically, checking the rooftops then the corners, jut to make sure. Then he asked told Oracle to send an electronical and aural scan, to see if there were any unusually close beings that he should be aware of, but both searches came up clean.

They were alone.

"I assume you two are alone then? Good." He said, slapping rifle on his back and walking of and kneeling by one of the two black trash cans, reaching up and flipping off the lid to reveal two fur coats stuffed inside. Luckily, the owner of the liquor store was smart enough to empty the trash cans before the store opened and when it closed, and he was smart enough to use the Hefty brand of trash bags, so the trash can was spotless.

Baroth reached his hand into the trash can and pulled out the coats, giving each a good shake before holding them on his arm. He didn't know how much time they had, and they'd need a distraction if they were to get past the thugs that were no doubt hounding the street is and back alleys for him. All the places they knew, their bosses knew.

Approaching the two, Baroth gave the alley one final glance before explaining the situation to them.

"Look, we don't have much time, so i'll make this quick. Right now, in my current situation, it is not safe to be around me. Of the various interests of Blacklight, I got involved with the worst. But it doesn't matter who i'm involved with. All you two need to know is that i'm compromised and it's best to stay away from me for at least a few days."

Simus opened his mouth to object.. "But Baro-"

"No, Simus. You barley came out of eons of sleep and I will not be held responsible for your death. You and Jessica will have to take this time to get you familiar with the city. Then when you move on with the group, i'll rejoin you as if nothing happened. Now, here."

Baroth tossed the coats to Simus, who easily caught them in both arms.

"Those are for you. Morning is a perfect transition of freezing to warm, when the sun barely starts heating up the sand, and the wind starts to die down. Simus, you and Jessica will be playing the roles of Grandfather and Grand-daughter, with you leading the way, like as if you know the city. Make convincing gestures, like waving your hand over the buildings and pointing at certain stands and shops. Try and smile, that'll help sell it. When you're close to the safehouse, ditch the coats and regroup with the others. I'll find a way around them."

Both jessica and Simus looked as though they wanted to say something, but the readings Oracle was getting disagreed with their opinions. He walked past them, towards the dumpster.

"No time. Get moving." He said, jumping up onto the dumpster before stepping on the stone wall behind it and dropping own on the other side.

no sooner than he did tht, did he spot a man dressed in a black suit and tie approaching from the southern entrance, armed with an M16 Assualt Rifle. Baroth would have taken him, had four more not appeared, along with a Jet Black Cognito car.

They had him. Whoever they was.

In the car, a window rolled down to reeal the face of a man Baroth did not recognize. The man nodded to the car.

"Get in. Let's go for a drive."

"No thanks. I'm fine walking."

"Really? Because the men with big guns disagree."

Baroth looked between the several armed men and sighed, going against his better judgement, and got in the car, just before it sped off.

Derek made his way out of the slums, and to the market square. The people their looked a little less likely to shoot him for the credits he had on him. Sure enough, the three that had gone to investigate Ataros' place were waiting, looking out of place in suits and armour. Not that he was any more inconspicuous, but people in Blacklight knew his armour. He was less likely to get arrested or at least investigated by Blacklight Authorities then the others. How long that would last if there were Imperial agents in the city, he didn't know. "So. You had a run in with Imperial Intelligence,huh?" He said, keeping his voice calm. It wouldn't do to start shouting at them in public.

"So. You had a run in with Imperial Intelligence,huh?" Despite the calmness of the other hunters voice, Corvis could sense an argument of epic proportions was imminent. Though he knew he should have let the other two fend for themselves, he had been there as well. Despite the fact he wasn't terribly happy with being part of a team, he'd take his share of the burden.

"Look, Varastian...I've had my fair share of run ins with Imperial Intelligence. But this wasn't an intel gathering op. This was a kill team. The two guys that came in after us didn't even bother with ID. They just started hosing everything with blaster fire." He explained.

Then a rather disturbing thought occurred to him. "Besides, what the hell was Imperial Intel doing in Ataros' apartment? Either she's pissed off the imps enough that they're sending fixers after her, or those guys were working with her. Either way, they're dead now, and I didn't see any witnesses"

Derek folded his arms and glowered at the silver armoured hunter as he explained his actions. Though he didn't show it, his annoyance with his three acquaintances was rapidly giving way to worry. If Imperial Intelligence was sending kill squads after them, they were in deep trouble. Plus, Allendis raised a very good point. Derek and the others had been hired to find and take down Ataro. If the Imperials were sending their own assassins after her, it either meant the client lacked faith in their abilities, or the Imperials had no knowledge of the bounty hunters.

Either way, Corvis and the others had made the right choice in defending themselves. Dead didn't get anyone paid. Having calmed down considerably, he nodded. "Okay. This definitely complicates things, but I've been in worse situations, and I'm sure the rest of you have too." He paused, then tilted his head to the side, examining the three hunters. "Did you find anything useful before those Intelligence goons burst in and started tearing the place up?"

"What the hell is Baroth up to?" Simus asked Jessica as they walked back to the safehouse. As much as he respected his old friend he wasn't about to wait until morning to head back to the house under some tourist chirade. It was still afternoon anyway. They'd have to find a place to spend the night and that wasn't a good idea in a slum like this.

"You know him better than I do." Jessica transmitted. Both of them had the coats Baroth gave them just in case but neither of them wore them. It was far too hot and they'd look rediculous.

"That was a thousand years ago. He's not the man I used to know. Why did he give me the role of grandfather? I'm only 56."

"1,056 technically. And you've got to admit Simus you've got a pretty weathered look. The silver hair isn't helping you either."

"Hey now. I didn't grow up in a time with microwaves and cell phones. Life was harder back then. At least in some ways. We didn't have laser guns either, thank Talos."

"Yeah. They usually do more harm than good. In a city like this you need to know how to use one though. Did Baroth bother to teach you any shooting before he went all crazy-mysterious?"

"He did actually. I shot a couple of his rifles and one of his handgus. Damn good weapons. There was one he called an assault rifle that sprayed bullets all over the place if you held down the trigger. I think that was my favorite."

"Yeah." Jessica said with a chuckle. "Assault rifles are fun. I use what's called a battle rifle. It's got a scope like a sniper rifle but it can fire in bursts or full all its bullets at once like an assault rifle. That setting is what's called full auto. I like battle rifles because you can do a lot with them. They have a good balance between range and firepower and if you want to spray a target you can. You might like them. When we get back to the safehouse I'll let you try mine out. Are you hungry by the way?"

"Yeah. I suppose I am. Why do you ask?"

"See that sign over there that says Greedo's Bar and Grill?" Jessica pointed to a restaurant across a market square. They were in the nicer parts of town now. "They've got great food and beer over there. Skylar gave me some money when she dropped us off. Let's go get some early dinner."

"Sure. that sounds great. Considering the food Baroth gave me last night I'd love to try something new. What do they have?"

"Oh, all kinds of stuff. Burgers, fries, onion rings, buffalo wings, all kinds of great bar food. Stuff you've probably never had before. Come on!"

Jessica ran ahead and looking at her Simus saw just how revealing her outfit was. Those white sneakers and short socks she had on were fine for walking around a city in but not much else. Those blue shorts she was wearing were far, far too short. They showed far too much of her legs! And that green t shirt she was wearing was too tight and the sleeves were too short. You could see practically her entire forearm! Her blue hat and sunglasses were nice but overall it was too revealing. He'd never let Alice wear such a revealing outfit.

Along the way they ran into Derek and Corvis, both in their armor and ready to fight while Simus and Jessica were in civilian clothes. If you could call Jessica dressed. Jessica was the first to notice them.

"Hey there guys! Didn't know you were out shopping today. Funny how we run into each other here. We were about to get something to eat at that Greedo's over there. Would you like to join us?" She needed to tell them about the Iron Hands compound and they'd definitely ask for it but not here. Not in public. There were too many eyes and ears in a place like this. Right now Jessica was playing the innocent tourist. She got out a piece of bubblegum and blew a big pink bubble to emphasize the role.