So... Someone (Shadoen) asked me what happened to William, Asteroth, Cat and the rest of the crew after MAD. This is what happened:

1. Momentum

The crews of the Behemoth class trade ships Trifolium, Cynáreae and Taraxacum were gathered in the small but spacious rented briefing room in Daltas Hold, the attention focused on the grey haired man in front of them. It had been a long briefing thus far and the poor quality of the chairs was starting to have an effect on the audience. Still, they remained focused on the man as he described the entire route from Daltas Hold to Detus Watch in Serco space. After all, they would be going through the most pirate infested wormhole in all of known space and even if the main pirate guilds had shown themselves to be rather sporadic as of late, it never hurt to agree beforehand on what the different members of the ships were supposed to do. The old man in front, lieutenant Crumbuldt, turned to his by now restless audience,

"All this aside, we have a standing insurance policy with the Xang Xi corporation and this means that is we are attacked by pirates I am authorised to pay up to three million standard UIT credits in ransom for our safe passage."

He smiled at seeing the relief on their faces; even if they ran into some of the most experienced pirates they would be able to buy them off.

"We will have launch in one hour so please be ready at that time gentlefolks. The rent-a-cops will be ready then. That is all, move out."

The crews got up and adjusted the snappy flight suits they had been issued form their parent trade company, the Daltas Free Shipping Company, before moving out in small groups to their respective Behemoths.

The ships had been painted in the bright neon colours of DFSC just days before and were still in completely perfect condition. The Behemoths were not completely new but prime second hand and had been worked over extensively by the Daltas hold mechanics during the last week. They functioned as good as new ships and the crews were proud of them. After the pre-flight check the pilots launched according to plan and flew towards the jump point at 160 meters per second. A small warning came up on the HUD from the fighter escorts, a single Centaur III but nothing that alerted any of them. No pirates had been detected so far. The all go was given for the warp jump to Sedina B-8, the wormhole sector. Lieutenant Crumbuldt activated the jump drive and let the extremely complicated machinery push his Behemoth through nether space and into the targeted sector.

The single Centaur that had jumped into the sector seconds before they had arrived moved towards the convoy at full speed. Crumbuldt opened his radio and sent a signal across.

"We are friendly traders. Peace be with you."

No reply. The Centaur kept boosting towards the convoy and at the 350 meter mark fired a full spread of flares.

"No, please desist. We will pay ransom."

The flares exploded 28 metres from the first Behemoth, bathing the cargo ship in sheets of flame tearing armour plates to shreds and forcing the ship into a different direction from the other ships. The following set of flares was impact fused and hammered into the side of the Behemoth, penetrating the armour and exploding it. Crumboldt looked in horror at the Centaur as it turned its front towards the next Behemoth and unleashed a new set of flares coupled with the machine gun-like firing from the Gatling turret. The gunners that manned the heavy gauss turrets started firing at the Centaur to no avail as the flares exploded on either side of the Behemoth that was targeted and the ship shook from the violence of the force. The following Gatling shots smashed the armour and tore the ship into a thirty tonne expanding ball of scrap metal.

Crumboldt swore and focused on getting away from the Centaur but could only impotently look as the following ship moved into the slipstream of the Behemoth ignoring the wasp-like Vultures that tried to get a firing solution. They were continuously foiled at the random movements of the Centaur and failed to hit it at all. The Centaur, on the other hand, fired a set of flares expertly up on each side of the Behemoth that detonated with an enormous explosion that made the heavy trade ship ring like a bell. Crumbuldt adjusted his helmet that had slipped down over his eyes and was worried by feeling the crushed heavy-duty plasteel that had protected his head from the impact with his control panel. Apparently the control panel was made of something very durable and only a coloured smear showed where his head had impacted. He checked his radar and saw the twin tell tale yellow radar echoes approaching with a sense of dread. Here was his death, arriving unseen but not unnoticed. He closed his eyes as the proximity alert went from rising single beeps and turned into a continuous tone.

Having smashed the convoy completely, the Centaur twisted lazily through the wreckage and dispatched the life pods with single shots of his Gatling turret. Once secure that none of the UIT traders had survived, the pilot turned the heavy ship around and left his tell tale message to the non-attentive emptiness of space:

"I cut them Janice, I cut them good."

###

Asteroth was lying on his bunk, his feet raised on a set of pillows with his hands behind his head and his eyes closed enjoying some light reading via his brainpal. He should probably be worried but had discovered an inability to care lately. He couldn't affect the decision of the military court anyway and so had decided to stop bothering. He chuckled at a particular funny part of the latest Adventures of John Eldritch, Coolant Merchant Extraordinaire when there was a hard sound from the door. Asteroth disconnected and looked over towards the opening door where an immaculately clad Master Chief had entered, the distaste painted on his face like an abstract work of art.

"Sir, it is time."

Asteroth nodded and got up from the bunk smoothing the wrinkles in his plain black and red uniform that was empty apart from the obligatory rank indications on his collar. He was not allowed to wear any medals or ribbons at the court, nor any unit marks.

"You don't look happy Chief Ziegfeldt."

"Sir, you know I am not allowed to comment. But no Sir, I am not."

Asteroth smiled at the disregard for the court that Ziegfeldt displayed by that last remark.

"It could have been worse Chief; they could have sent a young unknown officer instead of you."

"Maybe that would have been for the better Sir."

Asteroth chuckled at the chief's comment.

"Maybe so, maybe not Chief. It would have been final for sure."

A young officer would have carried a neural disrupter as well as a thin gun with only one shot in it and would have been an indication that the court had decided that the verdict had been death. As an officer he would then be given the option of the "honourable" solution before being sentenced and thus killing himself as an innocent man with full honours. So, he was not going to die from this but he was in no doubt that it would be a harsh sentence.

"Right Chief, I am ready."

Ziegfeldt nodded and placed the silvered pacifier collar around Asteroth's neck before leading him out of the cell into the harsh sunlight of Sol II.

###

She opened her eyes. And then opened them again. Nothing, no difference between opened or closed eyes, only the pitch dark of nothing. She tried to move her hand up to touch her face just to confirm that her eyes were open but couldn't move her arms. Or her legs, or any other part of her body. She opened her eyes and saw nothing. She felt nothing, no gravity, air, temperature or anyth... wait, there was something there. Like a rhythmic sound repeating faster and faster; ding, ding, ding, Ding, Ding, Ding, DIng, DIng, DINg, DINg, DINg, DING DING DING. She recognised the sound, it was from somewhere that was very intimately known to her; it was from her cockpit, it was the radar lock warning. She opened her eyes in panic, nothing. She recognised where she were now, she was inside a life support pod that was powered down and the warning was from someone pinging her with a targeting radar. The pod was pushed hard to one side and she could feel her arm getting warm and then very cold. A stinging sensation was felt in her little finger. She opened her eyes, she opened her eyes...

...and sat up in the bed completely confused, the alarm clock showing 0602 standard time and the chime softly pinging. She grabbed her arm and felt the cold from where the glass of water had spilled all over her hand. Cat rubbed her eyes with both hands before slamming the heel of her hand down on the alarm clock. She hated that dream. She had dreamed it several times before with different endings but always with the feeling of claustrophobic helplessness. She knew who had flown the ship that in the end killed the pod; it had been herself. She looked at the clock and cursed, she was ten minutes late. She jumped into her flight suit and scrimmaged around for her combat boots before bolting out of the door. No breakfast today either. Rather that than being late for her assignment. She arrived at the office with a minute to spare and moved into the locker room for her flight gear. As the only female employee, she had the entire twelve-person locker room for herself and with the minuscule amount of kit she had it looked empty.

Cat grabbed her helmet and walked down to the briefing room along with the other two active members of Helios Securities Convoy Service, HSCS. It had been hard for her to find a job in grey space that didn't involve a military screening, which she could not afford but eventually she hit upon this one. The pay was not too bad but she kept on thinking back on her crèche and the training partners she had had. She missed the buddies instead of these rent a cops that went home every night. It was lonely, but it was a job.

The trio sat at the briefing and listened to the monotone voice of the briefing bot as it explained the destination and size of convoy they would be escorting. Cat had a hard time focusing, everything was already uploaded to her brainpal, why did she have to sit it through with these.... she almost thought hunorms, the Serco derogatory slang for unmodified humans, but stopped herself. She was forced to live among them after all. The commander of the flight rose after the briefing.

"Right, so Tjulekso, you'll fly point with me and Ms. Plissensky will take the rear."

She flinched at hearing her last name instead of her usual callsign.

"Just Cat will be fine Aliec"

"That is Mr Xusio Ms Plissenksy. You will be three, Tjulekso two and I am lead. The cargo ships are alpha one to three for the Behemoths and bravo one and two for the Centaurs"

Cat was about to come with a reply but decided against it. She didn't know why this Aeolus born brat hated her guts but he did his utmost every time to annoy her. She couldn't afford losing the job however, the money in her account were disappearing at an alarming rate. And it didn't matter that she had probably killed more capitol ship than Aliec had total kills either, he was the boss and made sure she knew it every time. She shrugged mentally but didn't change her appearance at all. Which the useless prick obviously decided was her submission and with a slight smile he turned and walked out expecting Cat and Tjulekso to follow. Cat looked over to Tjulekso who merely shrugged apologetically before getting up to follow.

"C'mon Cat, we have a job to do."

She rose and walked out to the launch bay for the semi-solitude of her Serco Vulture Guardian.

###

The bright pink Centurion Rev C flew close to the debris that was the only remains of a Behemoth heavy class transport and stopped in relation to it. A thin laser beam emanated from the lens that was installed under the cockpit and hit one of the barcodes, reading it before skipping to the next. Some four hundred metres away another Rev C, this one neon blue, flew overwatch.

"Says here it belongs to a voy out of Daltas hold Retract. But we have no recordings of any CLM pirate taking it out so it must be a freelancer."

"You are probably right Azumi. But why did he or they leave the cargo? And why did he kill the crew?"

"Don't know. My scanners show that the event happened about a day ago, we can jump out and intercept the radio event?"

"Good call, we need to figure out who this is. Lets go"

Azumi tore through the debris with little regard to the remains of the crew of the transports; they were dead after all. At a safe distance away from the debris she engaged the jump engine and tore through reality to a place in deep space a light day away. Retractile arrived seconds later and together they boosted towards the location of the slaughter, their radios scanning the full spectrum. Eventually they intercepted the signals and stopped to make some sense of it. Azumi listened to the screams of the traders with little or no emotion, she had heard it thousands of times before. It was only the last sentence that made her uncomfortable, the message sent with such hatred and despair that the small hair on the back of her arms stood up.

"I cut them Janice, I cut them good."

The message was followed by the random cracklings of space.

"That is one sick cookie Az. We need to find him."

"I was kinda afraid you would say that. Let us get back to HQ with our findings first."

The two Rev C's jumped out again for the relative safety of CLM HQ.

oh nice one Whytee!! love to hear more!!

Thinking that CLM HQ is a safe place suggests that Whytee has never been caught leaving the fridge door open by Mystic.

Well Mystic is the one that deals with the power bills and the spoiled food :P But he did state "relative" safety :P

*goes to check on the fridge

2. Show trial

Alex Hartron slowly sifted through the evening’s news feeds looking for any stories that covered the ongoing trial of the person known as the Beast of Ukari. The verdict was going to fall no later than this week and as far as Alex knew that particular human garbage would be found guilty and executed. Guilty on evidence that Alex had supplied along with his team of investigators. He didn't find what he was looking for, closed the feed and leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his neck. The door to his office opened and his secretary peeked in, a white folder in hand.

"Lex, I have a new job for the squad."

Alex frowned but didn't take his arms down.

"What and where?"

She opened the folder and read from the front page.

"Multiple homicide on Xang Xi station. Ehm let me look, yep Daltas Hold, deep in grey."

"Interesting. And they have acknowledged our demands?"

"Yes sir, they have signed the contract."

"Guess we have a new customer."

He took his arms down and smiled at the secretary.

"Well, go and set it up. Tactical briefing in three hours and leave in six."

She nodded, dropped the folder on the table and left leaving Alex to his own preparations. Not that he had many. Since setting the Allied Police Investigation Group up as a subsidiary of Allied Police he had provided investigation skills for the various factions of grey. All the factions had their own police force of sorts or rented police forces but they were more or less what you would call border police more concerned with controlling in and out flow of people and goods. The specialised skills needed for investigating major crimes were generally not neither needed nor cost effective thus leaving room for APIG to conduct their business. And so far they had been a great success with crimes solved for Ineubis, Axia and BioCom controlled stations. This was going to be the first job for Xang Xi, one of the larger of the grey powers, quite a catch for them if they could make it work.

He picked the folder up and skimmed it. Multiple murders within the last four weeks. All knife jobs, all cut with what looked to be a straight razor. Some sicko was at play but he would get him; he always did.

###

The courtroom was larger than it appeared but still managed to look oppressively clustered with the walls and panels all kept in darkly coloured wood, brass and heavy tapestries. The windows were covered by heavy pieces of cloth in red and gold that further blotted out the sun. Even the ceremonial guards seemed darker and more foreboding. Asteroth wasn't impressed, he knew how the court would look if he had been acquitted, the soft glow of Emmerwood shining with the sunlight pouring in from the uncovered windows and the red and gold flags and banners unfolded and paraded behind the judge. Besides, he knew that he would be found guilty; wasn't that the role of a scapegoat?

He sat alone in front of the panel of judges, the lowest ranking a full colonel, and smoothed his uniform out of habit. He looked at his judges without emotion and noticing that it made them uncomfortable, made an effort of looking directly at each one of them until they started fidgeting with papers or busying themselves otherwise. The central judge of the panel of five gathered his papers and cleared his throat.

"Captain Pieter de Vries, call sign Asteroth."

Asteroth rose, assumed the correct position and nodded.

"Present Sir."

"Captain de Vries, you have been found guilty of gross misconduct, misuse of State property and endangering fellow Serco servicemen and women. You have been acquitted for the charges of treason, murder and theft of State property. The sentence shall be immediate dishonourable discharge, removal of all privileges normal to a member of the Serco Military including pension, and revocation of your Serco Citizenship. You shall be moved from Sol to Helios B-14 where you will be exiled forever in this and any form you might take. You will be considered persona non grata in all of Serco space. Do you understand the sentence?"

Asteroth stood silent when the verdict was read, completely still when the large Serco marine walked over to him, tore the rank insignia off his uniform and left him standing with the torn jacket. He waited until the marine was finished before answering with no emotion in his voice at all.

"Yes, I understand. Hail Lady Serco."

The medals and ribbons he had received during his career were carried into court and the marine took each piece and cut it in half with a xith wire cutter before dumping the pieces at Asteroth's feet. He then nodded to the guards that grabbed Asteroth under the arms and led him out of the courtroom to his small cell. On the way out he noticed Ziegfeldt stare at the crushed medals and whistled softly, catching his attention. He smiled to the grizzled veteran and almost imperceptibly shook his head. The Chief nodded and slowly came to attention and saluted Asteroth on his way out, ignoring the protests from the court military policemen.

The bunk contained a simple blue boilersuit, a pair of soft boots, a data chip and a PDA. Asteroth stripped, leaving the torn uniform on the floor and grabbed the boilersuit, stuffed the data chip and the PDA into his pocket. He turned to the two MP's and extended his arms towards them.

"Ready for the metal."

"If you agree to behave it will not be necessary Sir. Ahem, citizen."

"Equally wrong there son. I am now officially just an outcast, scum of the spacelanes, dreg of humanity. But I'll have to insist on the irons, bad behaviour seems to be my middle name."

###

Cat saw the trade ships blink out one by one as they jumped into Latos O-12, the sector containing the wormhole to Sedina, the most dangerous jump of the journey. So far it had been a boring routine mission. Her radio crackled;

"Lead and two passing wormhole. Standby for orders."

Cat sighed; he went through this at every jump and every time it was the same. Three, you can proceed.

"Three, you can proceed."

She shook her head and watched the trade vessels pour through the wormhole before activating her own drive. The white harsh glare of Sedina Prime flooded her cockpit as she exited and she slowly turned her ship to follow the Behemoths. A couple of circles made of exotic particles announced the arrival of another group of ships, two Centurion Rev Cs one bright pink, one neon blue, both carrying CLM codes for their IFF.

"Three, you'll engage the pirates, two and I will cover the convoy."

Cat grinned; that was the response she had expected, she would have to do all the hard work while the two others ran away. She turned towards the neon blue Rev C and fired her gauss canons, the blue balls of plasma skirting the underside of the Rev C but not hitting it. The pink Rev C turned towards the traders and started pumping positrons into the nearest Behemoth tearing armour plates off like wrappers from a candy bar. The neon blue Rev C fired a long stream of neutron that savaged Cat's frontal armour and made her push the side thrusters furiously to escape the deadly fire.

The two fighters spun apart and Cat checked her damage readout; 30% remaining. Bloody hell, that pirate could fly. If only he shot as well as he flew, she would have been debris. The pink Rev C had exploded the first Behemoth and was now tearing chunks of armour from the second one, giving chase with no regard at all to the twin escort fighters that did their best attempt at fleeing anyway. The neon blue Rev C moved towards her again and the streams of green death painted a veil of death all around her Vulture but not touching it at all, her dodging skills good enough to avoid the beams and send a double gauss shot into the rocket ship. She grinned with satisfaction as the Rev C broke off trailing crushed and melted armour. A rookie pilot would have pressed on and tried to land another hit, which would have been rewarded with a string of neutrons as the neon blue Rev C flipped over and pointed straight at her Vulture again. She rewarded the pilot with a double slug of gauss plasma that was dodged without problems, the 129 metres giving the pilot almost three tenths of a second to react.

In the background she could see the remaining Behemoth explode in a shower of debris and cargo crates, the life support pods spinning wildly but securely away from the cargo ship. The twin Vultures of her companion escort guards engaged their jump engines and exited the sector leaving it to Cat to deal with the two pirate Rev C's. Her radio crackled with static as a signal opened for the common channel.

"Run away little kitty, live to fight another day."

Cat's face twisted in annoyance almost as if it possessed its own mind

"Screw you pirate."

The neon blue ship twisted inwards towards her in a forward barrel roll, slight thruster adjustments up and down ensured that her targeting computer couldn't get a fix on it, firing neutron beams around her ship. Cat disengaged the targeting computer and focused on hitting the opponent while her own ship was pummelled by fire. A solid hit of gauss fire slagged almost half the armour on the Rev C but that was the last hit that Cat landed. The armour on her own Vulture was so damaged that a stream of neutrons could tear through the ship and force her ejection pod to launch her to safety. She opened her eyes. Nothing. She opened her eyes...

###

The life support pod spun safely away and Retractile wished it a good trip. It had been a good fight and he had no ill feelings towards the escorts that had guarded the convoy that he and Azumi had just killed.

"What's the loot Az?"

"Revolting, they were shipping free mining beams"

Retractile flinched at that. When they shipped crap like that they could just as well have a sign on the front Behemoth instead of escorts. Naturally that would mean that they would try that on more valuable cargo too and so they would have to shoot everyone again. He grinned at that thought and pushed the comms button while twisting the ship to face Azumi;

"Time for another one or do we have to report the incident?"

"We really should report it Retract, just one voy more and we'll do it okay?"

Retractile corkscrewed his ship past her pink version and took up position behind it.

"Sweet, this time you take the escorts."

getting better and better keep it up

3. The Ripper

The metal walls of the lesser-used access corridors were pitted and corroded, the weld marks standing out like infected scars along the seams where they had been joined. The different posters that had been set up all over the available surface did nothing to brighten the corridor, rather their promises of cheap implants, cheaper women and even cheaper liquor had been merged into a wall of semi-smudged pictures that blended with and enhanced the dirt that was ever present. A single light panel was flickering on and off randomly; the others were not working. Draeked wouldn't have passed this way normally but he was late for work today. He half-ran along ensuring that his clothes didn't touch the walls. The white fabric would attract the filth like flies on a turd and Mr. Landerplats would probably fire him for the slightest smudge.

A filthy bundle of rags and flesh was sitting halfway down the corridor, a bottle at his feet and a smell of Teh Killa and unwashed body emanating like the noxious fumes from a chemical cesspool. Draeked slowed down in order to step around the human wreckage and passed without looking. A hand grabbed his right leg and stopped his movement. Irritated that the bum had touched him and probably dirtied his uniform, Draeked turned angry and ready to pummel the man to be let free. He saw the glimmer of metal that seemed to appear out of nowhere and move from the side of the bundle of filth up towards his face or rather his neck. A warm stinging feeling spread across his neck and a warm sensation flowed across his chest downwards. Draeked looked down but discovered that he couldn't bend his head forwards. He felt a sharp pain from the inner side of his upper thigh and tried to move his hand down to discover what it was. His hand reached halfway when his head started spinning and there was another sharp pain on the other thigh. The world slowly contracted to a pinpoint and closed. Draeked would no longer be late for work. The gush of blood that had stopped pumping out when the heart gave in continued its slow seepage from the three gashes and mixed with the filthy floor. The assailant got up from the half sitting position and shambled away from his victim, light reflected from the erroneous lamp blinking from the straight razor he held in his left hand like the light from a stroboscope, his bloody foot steps marking his exit.

###

She opened her eyes and immediately closed them again, the harsh white light from the surgical lamps sending flares of pain into her brain and blinding her. She took a hand up in front of her ayes to shield and kept it there until the lamp had been removed.

"Welcome back Catherine."

"Cat."

She growled it, her mouth as dry as if she had been lying in the desert with her mouth open for a month. She grabbed the glass of water that was placed near the bed she was lying on and drank all of it in one long swallow.

"Just Cat thanks."

"Right. If you will please sign here, here and here?"

The medical attendant pushed some papers into Cat's hands and provided her with a pen.

"What is it?"

She was too bleary-eyed to actually read the text, a common side effect of the deep-sleep that life support pods put you in. The attendant skimmed the papers while answering.

"Nothing to worry about. Standard contracts stating that you are alive as a consequence of our treatment, that you have insurance and that you, ah, i see, that you were personally responsible for your loss of ship."

Cat signed the first two documents and looked at the third one. It was a waiver that ensured that only Cat was to blame for the destruction of her ship. She tried to understand the legaleese but failed horribly, signing in the end out of pure frustration.

"Thank you Ms. Your system looks to be completely healthy, no harm to your implants at all either. You can leave now if you want to."

She nodded wearily and sat up halfway leaning on one elbow. She rested for some seconds before swinging her feet out to the side and into her combat boots. She sighed deeply and secured the velcro straps before standing, anticipating the nausea that always followed awakening.

"Damn I hate this."

"Yeah, it can be rough at times."

Cat looked at the attendant without understanding what he said until she realised that he had answered her. She had actually been talking to herself. She nodded in distracted reply and got up from the bed, grabbed her things and walked towards the headquarters of HSCS for her mission debriefing.

###

The two large Serco marines exited the airlock with their smaller prisoner between them, their uniform and manner a deterrent to any questions or trouble. Yet somehow it looked as if the captive was leading the group, as if he was in charge. On the far side of the airlock, just before the customs officers he turned and presented his wrists to the marines who unlocked the heavy restraints. The former captive grinned at the marines, clapped one on the shoulder and walked proudly over to the opulent customs officer.

"ID."

"I do not have any, I request asylum and citizenship as a member of Aeolus."

"Right, I'll get someone for you right away."

Asteroth knew the procedure; after all he had helped countless Serco recruits to leave their homeland behind in preparation for Diplomatic Service. He had the five cred sticks with a thousand UIT credits that were needed as well as the right cover story. It was all that the chief could do for him but it would be sufficient. The officer returned with two rent-a-cops and a smirk.

"Just follow these fine gentlemen and we'll have you sorted out in no time at all."

Asteroth frowned, he did not expect the smirk or the slightly overweight overpaid and overzealous station cops.

"Is there some kind of problem?"

Asteroth shook his head and smiled to the customs officer as he walked past. The two rent-a-cops took him into an office that bare walls except for a poster for joining the UPK, the UIT military branch, a metal table with a single chair filled by an obese rent-a-cop. Some kind of seven-pointed star adorned his shoulder, probably a rank of some sort. He looked up and smiled as Asteroth entered, not a smile of joy but one that was very unpleasant.

"I see my retirement fund has just arrived."

Asteroth frowned again, what was this?

"Excuse me? What do you mean?"

"New rules for scum like you. If you want to get asylum here in Aeolus Trading Prefect the cost has risen slightly."

Asteroth nodded, so it was about greed. That he could handle; after all he had some emergency funds he had stashed away before going on that last fatal mission.

"And what might that cost be?"

"21.788.324 standard UIT credits."

Asteroth cursed internally but did show any emotion at all. How they had gained access to his accounts was a problem he had to look into at a later time, right now they were going to rip him of even the limited means he had.

"What if I do not have that kind of money? Or won't pay if I do?"

"Then you get to see the airlock from a very different perspective, namely from the outside."

"I see. And what would paying yield me in return?"

"A citizenship. And a chance to choose your own way to exit the station by any means that you would like and can afford."

The customs officer smirked even more; he was quite aware that Asteroth was going to be broke and could maybe afford a Gov-Bus. Not that he would have anywhere to go.

"Very well. I imagine that you have everything set up and that you only need for me to sign somewhere?"

He was handed a tablet with a DNA reader that he pressed his thumb against, acknowledging that his entire hidden stash was transferred to some other account. The customs officer checked that the money had arrived on his account before fishing for a document in one of his drawers. He opened it and decided it was the right one before tossing it with contempt to the other side of the table.

"Welcome to Aeolus Peter Friis."

Asteroth took the passport and grimaced at the licenses inside. 0/0/0/0/0. This was not going to be easy in the least.

Heh. Good read, as always. (and here's a small w00t for the UPK reference -_o)

4. ORLY officer?

The two Rev Cs flew all out towards the station, turbo flaring metre long pillars of fire out of both ships in second-long bursts before the battery gave in and needed to re-fill. The neon blue was slightly ahead by about half a metre as they entered the no fire zone, territory of the station traffic control, the STC. Both the pilots received the same message;

"Cease turboing and fly on the following vector coming in on speed 50 m/s, reply."

None of the ships paid it any attention though and continued the race towards the single official CLM docking bay, the neon blue inching slightly ahead with every cycle of battery re-charging. The distance between the two fighters was slightly lessened as they both attempted to go for the direct course for the single fighter bay. The radio crackled again, this time the voice had just a tinge of panic to it.

"I repeat, cease turboing and follow your vector."

The distance to the docking bay was now 230 metres and the STC sounded the impact command, the lights flashing inside the docking bay and the dockhands were scrambling for cover. Still, the neon blue fighter inched ahead and would finish half a fighter ahead of the pink one. The distance closed to 30 metres and the neon fighter applied the reverse thrusters at full power to stop its forward momentum and dock at the reasonable speed of 80m/s. The pink fighter disregarded the forward thrusters and flipped head over tail before firing the turbo thruster at full power, docking metres before the neon blue ship arrived. The docking cradle clicked and cycled, exactly in time to receive the other fighter. For a second the only sounds inside the docking bay were the impact warning klaxons and the pinging of metal cooling rapidly. The cockpit popped open on the two Centurions and the pilots jumped out. Azumi grinned like the Chestershire cat at Retractile while ignoring the police force that was running towards their docking bays.

"I won, you lost! You owe big time Retract!"

Retractile shook his head but couldn't stop grinning like a mad man.

"Crap you are crazy Az. All right, I'll do it."

The young woman jumped while pumping her fists to the sides.

"Yes, it is going to be FUN!"

Behind them the four station police officers had stopped and were swinging their stun sticks while pondering what to do. The manual was clear, detain the pilots and fine them through the nose. Reality, however, had a way of disregarding the manual somehow. These were not just pilots; these were CLM pilots and some of the more volatile. The sergeant decided that the solution in the manual should at least be attempted and stepped forward.

"You two, lay down your weapons and stand to. You are under arrest"

Initially they reacted as they should, both of them ceasing movement and stopped speaking, well almost. A normal citizen should fear and respect the station police, obey the given commands and do it promptly. This was going to turn out okay, he thought. Until the female pilot turned, that is, twirling her pigtails while grabbing a lollipop and securing it firmly between arterial blood red lips that framed a perfect innocent smile. The three dimples that were beneath her eyes on each side enhanced the almost too large green eyes.

"I am sorry officer, was that to us?"

When he afterwards thought about it, the sergeant realised that this was the exact time it went wrong.

"Be silent wench. Do as I told you or face the consequences."

She smiled innocently and twirled the lollipop before taking it out with an audible pop. That was the signal that Retractile had waited for, or rather yearned for. He moved quickly forward towards the policemen before they could rip their attention from Azumi and impacted with his elbow directly in the sternum of one of the guards. Not slowing at all, he used the momentum to drive himself into the next guard that the hooked with a foot behind the knee and a body slam, causing him to fly backwards and land heavily on his bottom. The sergeant and remaining policeman turned but too slow as Retractile twisted, regained his balance and kicked up and sideways catching the policeman under the chin and sending him out cold. The sergeant should have defended himself but the pirate was simply too close. He stopped, Retractile in front of him.

"I think you have mistaken us for someone that actually listens to the pigs."

Retractile grinned and hammered his forehead into the face of the policeman, sending him to the floor. He turned again and wiped the blood off his bald head while nodding to Azumi.

"Sweet Az, I actually feel better now."

She tiptoed over the prone policemen to his side, took his arm in her and guided him into the station.

###

The briefing room was precisely as they had left it, dark and un-personal now with two cups of cold koffee in styrofoam containers. Cat crashed into the front chair and waited for the commander to arrive; after all it was his debriefing. She read through the papers she had just signed without really looking at the meaning while the fight kept on playing in the back of her head. She was outclassed by that pirate but had put up a good fight. If only the other escorts had fought the pink Centurion, the traders would have gone through. Cowards. Footsteps from the corridor announced the arrival of Aliec and his appendix and she collected the papers, stuffing them into her thigh pocket. The two other pilots didn't even greet her as they walked into the room with Tjulekso taking a seat and Aliec seating himself on the edge of the table in front of them. Aliec grabbed some papers from his pocket and leafed through them slowly, nodding as he went along. Finishing them all, he looked up.

"That was not good at all. I am afraid that we will not be getting our pay for this mission as all the ships were destroyed along the route and they blame us for it."

He looked into his papers again before looking up at Cat.

"And it was primarily your fault Ms. Plissensky."

"Excuse me?"

"I ordered you to engage the pirates in order for us to get the convoy off to safety. You failed."

"What the.. I engaged the pirate as you told me to, I fought as well as I could but.."

"No buts, you failed and thus you are responsible for the destruction of the convoy. As you attested to by signing the papers."

"I did what? No I didn't, I signed that I was responsible for my own ship."

Aliec looked down at the papers and read aloud.

"I hereby declare that I were responsible for the destruction of the ships in convoy yada yada. Signed Catherine Plissensky, this is your signature, right?"

Cat looked at the paper, grabbed her own identical one and felt a sinking sensation slowly drain all feeling out of her. She had just agreed to pay for the losses that the convoy had sustained, probably millions of credits. Surely HCSC had some kind of insurance that covered losses like this. She looked over at Tjulekso and saw him hide his face by staring into the floor away from her. The truth slowly dawned upon her; she was the insurance.

"No way Aliec. I am not paying for your incompetence and mismanagement."

She got up and headed for the door but was intercepted by Aliec's voice.

"Screw you toaster. Take your self-righteous ass out of here. You are fired anyway. You already paid, I made sure of that."

She turned and was about to say something but decided that it wasn't worth it. She had to go and collect whatever money she could get out of her accounts before they emptied them completely.

###

The sobbing person sitting on the bed in the back of the room had at one time been a large muscular man but had now been reduced to something more sinister and wrecked. Empty bottles of cheap liquor were scattered around the floor, mixed with dirty clothes, crumpled paper and half eaten food packages. The smell of unwashed body, alcohol, spoiled food and blood was almost tangible but didn't seem to affect the person. Tears streamed down his dirty face from red eyes that continued to stare at the, by now, stained and torn picture of a slender woman with straw coloured hair he held in his left hand. The right hand guided a half empty plastic bottle of XX pure Synth Grain Wodka to his lips and he sucked deeply from the nipple, almost emptying the bottle. The drink did what it was supposed to and the tears slowly dried, the picture fell to the floor and the man got up from the bed.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and found the trusty straight razor, cradling it for comfort. Ignoring the filth on the floor he ploughed his way out of the room scattering it everywhere. He got out into the semi-abandoned maintenance corridor and walked shakily towards the launch bay. A pair of techs entered the corridor but on seeing him shamble towards them turned around and found another way. He encountered no others on the way to the matte blue combat scared Centaur III, which was probably for the best. Once inside the cockpit his vast experience took over and he launched without even noticing. Someone was surely going to die now.

###

Riddik was bored to tears. He had flown long combat missions, flown overwatch, flown escorts and even endured the 18-hour long shifts when he was duty officer in SCAR. But nothing, NOTHING really compared in boredom to these trading missions he felt he had to fulfil for the sake of his guild TGFT. He had tried flying to music, tried reading a book while flying, tried recreative drugs and even some stuff he wasn't prepared to share but little did it help. He felt his entire body rebel against the mindless, numbing, tear-bringing, brain-draining but unfortunately highly profitable work. He only had to do this last mission for today and then he could go ravage the bars of Aeolus Trading Prefect. And even that would not be the same as before, Keria would not be there, probably flying on some combat mission somewhere deep in smurfland. There, last jump and his radar picked the station up before he could see it through the chainglass visor. Disgusted by the massive bulk of the Behemoth he nonetheless flew the ship as he would any other ship, with great care and elegance. He somehow managed to dock the large trade vessel as graciously as if it had been a Centurion, felt the docking clamps engage by the small tremor through the hull plates and powered the Behemoth down. He practically jumped out of the ship and started walking towards the station proper, propeller cap proudly on his head. One thing he had yet to figure out, was how he could get a uniform in his size instead of this cling fit uncomfortable flight suit. As one of the only Serco pilots in TGFT he could imagine that the need for the XXXXXXXXXL suits he needed, had until now not existed. He was not going to let that stop him anyway, he was going for a drink, too small suit or not!

lol whytee getting better and better keep it up.and at least i look good im my tight suit.

Hahaha id love to see Riddik walking down the hallway in that suit ^.^............

Heh , good writing .

5. Very close acquaintances

Alex breathed in deeply as soon as he got off the transport and tried to get a sense of the smells on the station. No two stations smelled the same for many reasons. Different air recycling systems, different ventilation setups, different pollution standards but most distinctly of all, different food styles. Although the staple diet of the poor masses was synthesised vat grown soy products, it was spiced differently, cooked differently and contained different sauces. This station smelled sweetly with just a tinge of something peppery, not as fiery as Verasi Crossroads but still noticeable. And a small hint of something yeasty, fermented, pungent. He grimaced at that last smell; that would be the waste pools that were overdue for an overhaul. Or at least he hoped that was the case. The yeasty fermented smell would be the wodka vats he had read about and that were the third largest commodity in Daltas hold, the two largest being purified xithricite and the prison facilities that ensured the continued production of that xithricite.

A small welcoming committee was ready to receive him and his team and guide them to the office they would be working from. Alex led his aide lead the way and engage in talks with the local representative while he soaked in the atmosphere of the station. Although the station had suffered from multiple murders lately, he didn't notice anything from the locals in the way the moved and acted. He activated his brainpal and opened a secure line to his 2iC.

"Solus, ask if they have gone public with the murders. I think they have kept it secret."

He received an acknowledgement and continued observing while they walked further into the station.

"Lex, they have said nothing. Didn't want to cause a riot."

"Didn't want to hurt their profits is what they mean surely. Makes it easier for us."

If it wasn't public, the killer was probably not aware that a co-ordinated effort was underway. Good, gave him better chances of succeeding. A plan slowly grew inside his head that would solve this in the most efficient and effortless manner. After all, he was out to make a profit too.

###

Asteroth checked his account and flinched. 17.932 standard UIT credits, hardly enough for a months living and not enough to spare for a ship that he would actually be seen flying in. Not that he had any choice in the matter, his licenses had been kicked back to all 0's making the government issue bus the only option for him here. He inserted his cred stick into the public terminal and accessed Beria's private number. Nothing, actually worse than nothing. The number was not in use, the signal he had designed himself to warn the caller that Beria was no longer in a position where he could draw upon the resources of the Diplomatic Service. Looked like he would have to make his way to Corvus somehow and sell his services there. At least they weren't picky. He reclaimed the cred stick and pocketed it, swallowing a bit of pride and punched open the options for the purchase of an EC-89 class trainer ship. The public terminal softly chimed, an inbound signal. Curious, Asteroth grabbed the terminal and answered. The voice in the other end sounded like someone that had smoked 1000 cigars in one go while screaming all the time, harsh and growling, almost feral.

"You have a problem. I might help you if you help me."

"Who is this?"

"Call me Ahriman. We have worked together before under different names."

"I see. Lets assume I accept, it is not as if I have anything more or better to do, what happens then?"

"Two things. First thing is that you leave this public terminal immediately. Second thing, you go to the main public level where you await a contact."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you will find out whether the GESTAPO assassination teams are as good as they say they are in around a minute."

Asteroth left the terminal immediately and walked directly to the main public level scouting for would-be assassins all the way. Finding none, and not overly surprised by that fact really, he positioned himself outside of the "Arms of Kali" and waited for his contact. He didn't have to wait long. He spotted the contact almost immediately when she entered the concourse. Asteroth remained in place and waited for the contact to come to him, greeting her with a small nod when she arrived.

"Ast, how's things?"

"Not too bad Silia. And on your end?"

"Getting to be okay lately I guess but it was pretty crappy for a bit. Ready to meet the man?"

"He recruited you Silia?"

"Yeah, I didn't get a fancy court martial like you. I got a bomb in the mail that tore my flat mate apart and smashed my left arm. Was a signal for me to disappear but I didn't know who I could trust. So when Ahriman contacted me I leapt at the chance really. Never looked back."

"Guess I am then. Let's go."

Silia walked away without further explanations, expecting him to follow. Asteroth counted his contacts mentally and considered who of them were still alive and who had received a "pleasant" surprise like Silia. He would have to find out and warn them.

###

The Atlas pilot tapped nervously at the status display in a vain attempt at getting the yellow light to go back to green, or at least amber. If he had an engine malfunction now he would not be able to make the time constraints he had agreed to for the delivery. And that would likely ruin him. Sol II Whipbacks had to be eaten within six hours of catching them or they would turn toxic. Whipbacks were not the standard food item; each mature Whipback was a hulking ten tonne maritime reptilian monster that primarily lived at depths of thousand meters or more and the only edible thing on a Whipback was its brain, a fist sized morsel of delicacy. In the old days when the Whipbacks were plentiful, when a live-born Serco became a full warrior he was supposed to catch and kill a Whipback, eating the brain as his proof of his status as warrior. Today the Whipbacks were somewhat rare and most live-born Serco chose to buy the Whipback brains instead, the hardship and work of catching the critters was generally not appreciated in the same way. Needless to say, the prices on Whipback brains was phenomenal on the surface of Sol II and astronomical off the planet with only the richest of customers like the Serco ambassador to Ineubis able to buy it.

The diagnostic light flickered to amber and then back to yellow to the despair of the pilot, nothing seemed to work right now. He started to don his helmet and get ready for EVA to see if he could fix it from the outside. He opened to the emptiness of space and used his small air containers to thrust himself up and towards the engines. He spotted the problem immediately, a cracked inverse flux capacitor to the main de-combobulator in the warp drive. He could fix that with only a little effort, some vacuum grade duct tape and a small piece of wire. Humming to himself he started repairing the engine, focusing on the task. He didn't notice the ship that moved up to his position and stopped no more than 20 meters away. He never noticed that he died either, as the Gatling rounds tore him and his space suit apart with extreme force. The attacking ship disregarded the Atlas and turned away, boosting slowly outward. In a way it was poetic how the Whipbacks slowly degenerated and turned toxic, making the extremely valuable cargo into a lump of death, like what had happened to the mind of William Cutting three months ago.

Sated for now, William slowly boosted away from the person that had served his purpose by becoming a corpse. His face was a still mask with no indications of life except for the occasional flickering of his eyes. A single tear flowed from the left eye mixing with the week old filth that covered his face and matted his beard-stubble. The pain was too big for words and so he kept silent, only the telltale radio message emanating from his ship.

"I cut 'em Janice. I cut 'em good"

###

Cat checked her accounts at a public terminal and almost punched the screen. Her funds had dwindled to a little over three million credits with a claim of two million waiting. She put it on hold, inserted her cred stick and unloaded everything she owned onto the Corvus no-trace stick. There, at least they couldn't steal from her anymore even if her Aeolus official account would probably be closed and she would be banned. She flinched as her headache manifested itself once more with a sharp poke that felt like someone inserted a pick violently into the left side of her brain. It went away again quickly and she exhaled slowly. She pocketed her cred stick and turned around and stared right into the grinning face of two local thugs.

"Wher'd yu think ya gaoin?"

She was about to push him away when he poked her just the tiniest bit in the belly with a short but wickedly looking knife.

"Ah thaink ya betta come wit ma. Put ya hands in dem pockets"

The other thug was holding something in his pocket that could be a hold-out gun or the like.

"An no screemin or ya gits it."

Cat slowly put her hands towards her pockets while activating her brainpal's broadcast function to call for help. She panicked as it didn't respond, the silence deafening inside her head.

"Git ya hands in dem pockets shugar."

The shock of discovering that her brainpal didn't work had caused her to freeze completely. She slowly put her hands in the pockets and flinched as two strong hands grabbed her arms, one thug on each side. The smell of unwashed body, bad mouth hygiene, cheap alcohol and weed almost made her retch especially now when she no longer had her brainpal to filter her senses and control her instincts. She was defeated and moved her feet roughly in the required speed for following the thugs but in reality it was not necessary; they held her tight enough to drag her.

"We's gaoin ta hae fun wit dis un."

The thugs smiled in anticipation as they dragged Cat towards a side exit.

6. Into the (snake) pit

Riddik frowned as the last drops exited the bottle and entered his mouth. He was sure that he had bought an entire litre of Betheshee Musk beer, the somewhat pungent and slightly metallic tasting stout mixed with pure ethanol from his home system, and he was very sure that he had only walked for a couple of minutes. He must have been thirsty then, time to grab another one at the plaza or something else if they didn't have his brand. He dropped the bottle into the recycling bin and walked slightly unsteady into the main plaza. The bottle shop was over towards the exit to the main repairs deck and he headed over there without hurry. A couple of punks were gang-walking a drunken girl and a single man was sitting on a bench outside the shop staring at the trio intently. Riddik chuckled at remembering when he had been a young punk at Domino’s Hold and they had been partying for days on end, sniffing everything, smoking what could not be sniffed and using the spare time for drinking. He stopped dead in his tracks while considering his options. He knew that Keria would have his hide if he did what he was contemplating but she was not due on the station until tomorrow. That was actually the only consideration he had to make and thus he decided to go join the punks in drinking the universe dry.

"Hey wait up son. Ahem, Y'all beatta wait homes."

He grinned, once you had learned gangsta talk it remained, like flying an EC. One of the punks glanced back and wrinkled his brows.

"The fuck ya wanna ole man?"

He almost spat the words out and Riddik stopped grinning, remembering how he had been when he was that age. He was about to wave them off and leave when he recognised the girl between them from somewhere. He activated his face recognition software and checked her profile through; a match he didn't expect.

"Cat? Is that you"

A knife appeared in the hand of the punk closest to him and Riddik activated his combat implants; not that he had to activate a lot, they were always just dormant instead of active.

"Fark aof ya git. Non-ya bisniss."

Cat turned her head and looked Riddik straight in the eye, the desperation clear in her face. Riddik tried to keep his outward appearance calm but slowly, with inevitable force like a glacier moving to the sea, a very large grin forced its way to his face. He tried to come with a cocky remark to the punks but failed; instead he closed his fist and swung it from his hip up towards and impacting on the punk's chin with devastating force. The crack of his jaw disintegrating was loud enough to be heard over the general chatter at the plaza and the thump of the punk's body that hit the floor was almost as loud. The punk on the other side of Cat drew his hold-out pistol pointing it at Riddik's belly; at the same time Riddik felt and anticipated rather than heard or saw the third punk from behind. No factor, he was ready for the attack when it came. Riddik twisted his body slightly and grabbed for the hold-out when a barrage of noise assaulted his brainpal and almost made him faint with nausea. The knife that entered his back between the lower ribs didn't help at all and would have neatly sliced his right kidney in half if he still had any kidneys that is. The gun roared and belched forth an old-fashioned brass covered lead bullet that smashed through Riddik's hand and lodged itself in his hip. Riddik ignored the knife, grabbed for the hold-out and tried to focus on shutting his brainpal off. The three items at once were too many and he missed the gun and could only stare as the gun started to point upwards to the area over his upper lip. As if time had slowed down to tease him and let him see how his life was going to end, he saw in pain-wracking detail how the index finger contracted, squeezing the trigger with it. The gun roared again but missed Riddik by inches as the punk had lost his balance to a knee tackle delivered by Cat.

Cat had regained the control of her brainpal when Riddik hit the first of the punks and immediately accessed the combat programme and flooded her system with adrenaline. She did not have the same implants or the same training as the regular Serco Marines but were still a dangerous opponent for mere hu-norm scum as these. The roaring of the gun focused her attention on the closest punk and she delivered a very precise and hard kick to the side of his knee, causing him to collapse to the ground. The second shot hit somewhere on the ceiling but Cat was not finished. Using her advantage in height she stomped her boot directly into the throat of the punk several times making him drop the hold-out and use his hands and arms to protect his head. Cat changed focus and kicked him hard several times in the groin until he was still. She turned and saw the big bloody pool where the last punk was lying, his own dagger buried in the chest. From the blood pool a set of footprints led directly towards the other side of the plaza where Riddik dressed in a torn green jump suit, was storming at a man carrying what looked to be a holo-corder. She stomped her opponent an extra time in the face to be sure and ran over towards Riddik.

Riddik had almost been overwhelmed by the electronic cacophony but managed to engage his military grade filter and take most of it away. He felt the knife start to move in his back and flexed his considerable bulk, locking it in place. He turned quickly and tore it out of the hand of the punk. He reached back and grabbed the knife and stabbed it directly into the heart of the previous owner almost without effort. He saw that Cat was dancing the tango on top of the gunslinger and turned his attention to his brainpal instead, especially the special tracking hardware he had inserted for a mission back in the old days. He slowly turned until he had the best signal and identified a person with a small box about fifteen metres away. He smiled a predatory grin and set off to intercept his target. Not slowing down the least he tackled the man with his shoulder first, crouching slightly before applying all his considerable bulk and speed to the chest of the man tossing him a metre away before impacting violently with the floor mesh with all of Riddik's 340 pounds on top of him. The box was crushed between them and the attack on Riddik's brainpal stopped immediately. He grinned even wider, grabbed the man's throat between his teeth and closed his jaw, feeling the larynx being crushed before releasing. He grabbed the ID papers from the inner pocket before standing. Someone was rushing from behind but his brainpal was in contact with that person's brainpal and informed him that it was Cat. He turned and smiled while wiping the small drops of blood away from his mouth.

"We can't go on meeting like this Cat."

She stopped and grinned in return at the jolly green giant in the hulk outfit, the adrenaline flushing from her system now it wasn't needed and allowing the serotonin to take over.

"I think I owe you again. I am not sure it is going to be that healthy for us to stay here though. Drink?"

Riddik nodded and followed her away from the plaza. At least he had found someone to drink with now. Maybe this day was not going to be a complete write-off after all.

###

Retractile activated the small fly camera and released it letting it fly slightly behind and over his head. He stripped off the flight suit and underwear standing in the docking bay only wearing a yellow combined G-string-bathing suit (Borat..) and his boots. He grabbed a bottle of tanning oil and rubbed it on his torso making it gleam in the light of the bay. When he was finished, he looked up at the camera and grinned while doing a thumbs-up.

"One bet getting paid Az."

He found the box he had brought, took a deep breath and opened the bay door to the station. Several members of the VPR guild were milling around their light fighters, readying them for patrol or the like. All were deeply concentrated on their tasks and didn't notice Retractile's grand entry. He walked over to the person next to the gold coloured Rev C and cleared his throat.

"Ehm, mi mi mi miiiiiii. O sole meowrrrr."

Strat turned and almost jumped up into the cockpit from the surprise but managed instead to draw his gyrock pistol in a fluid motion and point it at the almost naked Retractile. That didn't seem to faze the pirate the least and he showed Strat an empty hand to indicate that he should wait. The small fly cam started playing a tune heavy on trumpets and horns, and at the same time Retractile started doing his version of the white man's shuffle.

"Dear Strat, there's no need to feel down
I said, Dear Strat, pick yourself off the ground.
I said, Dear Strat, cause you're the new in town
There's no need to be unsexy.

Dear Strat, there's a place for your ills
I said, Dear Strat, when your short on them kills
You can come there, and I'm sure you will find
Many ways to get some rats dead.

It's fun to fight in the La Tos O 12
It's fun to fight in the La Tos O 12."

They never found out if Retractile had prepared a third verse or not. The pirate alarm went off, as welcome as a sneaked fart in a lover's embrace. Strat fired the gyrock out of reflex and buried a gyrock round into the deck before looking sheepishly down at the hole and then back up at Retractile who had moved much much closer. Only a box of donuts separated them. Retractile handed them to Strat who grabbed them with both hands, stepped back and did a mock salute with the wrong hand.

"Congrats with the position of Lieutenant of the snakes Strat. From all of CLM with love."

Strat looked down at the assorted donuts bewildered before realising that Retractile was bolting for the exit.

"Halt scum rat."

Retractile kept running, he knew that Strat was too honour bound to shoot a very obviously unarmed man in the back and he really didn't have a choice if he wanted to avoid prison only clad in a small g-string. The auto-door opened and he ran directly to the dock and his clothes followed by the fly camera. The unmarked Warthog Mk II that waited for him would hopefully be sufficient to let him avoid the guards that remained near the station. At least Azumi had drawn most of the VPR pilots away by ratting a voy just as it was about to dock. He dressed very quickly and jumped into his cockpit, slamming his hand on the launch button as soon as his cockpit had sealed. Strat hailed him immediately and the golden Rev C accelerated under maximum force towards his Warthog.

"Stop scum rat and face prosecution."

Retractile immediately hit the turbo button and dropped a lightning mine at the same time forcing Strat to offset.

"Sorry snake but I have prior engagements."

The distance to Strat diminished slowly to below 100 metres and the flares that were Strat's weapon of choice belched forth from the opening in the left side of the front and tore across vacuum towards Retractile's Warthog. Unfortunately for Strat, Retractile had waited for exactly that and dodged to one side, dropped another lightning mine and re-engaged the turbo in less than a second. The distance was now only 60 metres and streams of neutrons hammered into the rear of the Warthog, gouging fist-sized holes in the armour protecting the engine. Strat disengaged and had to dodge away from the lightning mine. That was enough time for Retractile to gain 200 metres and effectively secure his safe get-away. At the 3k mark Retractile engaged the warp engine and punched through to CLM HQ and safety where a pink Rev C was waiting for him and any VPR that followed. Two circles of exotic particles indicated a set of fighters inbound and Azumi boosted to intercept them. Strat and Phaserlight scanned the system and decided not to pursue, instead jumping out and leaving the pirate's nest alone.

"I did it Az, I did it!"

He could almost sense the immense grin on her face as the radio crackled a reply.

"Never doubted you would baby. Wanna go for a drink?"

"Always. Let me find a rocket ship and I'll race you there."

"Up for a wager?"

Retractile grinned; the last wager had been kinda scary. But he had no intentions of losing this one.

"You bet. I know just what you have to do if you lose Az."

He told her. Her laughter punched through the vacuum and impacted deliciously on his ears like champagne bubbles on his palate.

oh thats great !!!! i'm loving this story,Keep it up

lmao!!! Too funny

7. The mould is being cast

Daltas Hold had been designed as a cheap modular, easy expandable spacestation with limited initial room for habitation and recreation. Those parts could always be added in due time as the station needed them, growing with the demand. At that time Sedina had been an exiting new system with major mining activity around Sedina IV and trade with the natives of that planet. The station manager had decided to expand heavily into cargo space and manufacturing space with the associated fusion-plants to deliver cheap power to the facilities. However, just as the facilities had been finished the tragedy of Sedina IV took place and the manager had no choice but to default on the payment of the new facilities and instead sell the remaining station to the builders to help cover cost. Thus Xang Xi came to own a station that was vastly over-powered and had immense cargo space but very little infrastructure. A quick analysis by the Octagon ensured that the station became famous, or infamous rather, for two things; Xithricite refining and the forced labour camp that provided the manpower as well as ensured a prison facility for the worst offenders of free space. None of those activities necessitated an enlargement of either the habitation or recreation modules and since Xang Xi needed to regain the lost investment, they chose to ignore the demands, enquiries and pleas of the residents instead allowing the main station to fall into a state of semi-disrepair. Rumour had it that the rust and filth was in places the only thing that held the habitation quarters together. That was probably one of the reasons that anybody that had enough money to allow them to move, had done so already.

Alex liked the place a lot. It had that particular grubbiness that allowed a man like himself to operate completely without restraints or considerations regarding public opinion or other such annoyances. The director of the station was only interest in extracting the maximum profit regardless of just about anything. Which meant that Alex and his team had free hands regarding catching the razor-killer. So far their stakeout had found nine smugglers, three rapes and eleven muggings but no razor-wielding maniac. Even if it annoyed the professional policeman that was buried deep inside of Alex, they had let the crimes happen to ensure their secrecy. His own people would need therapy after this but it was worth it if they could but catch the razor-killer. His teams stayed alert with the snatch team on a two-minute notice to move for when they found the killer. He would never know what hit him.

###

The long flowing robes that spilled all over the floor seemingly without ever hitting it, was exactly what Asteroth had expected from the former Grand Inquisitor, Master Interrogator and head of the small but powerful Serco Righteous Thinking Cabal. All these would naturally have to be thought of as prior positions by now as Ahriman seemingly had lost the power struggle within the Serco elite and been cast out. It appeared he had not been hit as hard as Asteroth though or maybe he had just planned better. The robes turned towards them as he and Silia entered the room, the hood keeping his face covered in darkness adding to the eeriness.

"Asteroth, prince of Inquisitors, so very fitting."

The voice emanating from within the hood sounded like a large wooden board dragged across a gravel road. Slow and with precise annunciation as if the speaker was having slight difficulty uttering the words, like the speech of a mentally damaged. Asteroth nodded and extended a mental greeting to Ahriman's brainpal. It was denied.

"We are not here for niceties. I need your special skills for a very secret mission. You will be well rewarded naturally. Will you accept this?"

Asteroth grinned; he would not have to sell his skills in some obscure grey space station for trinkets. At least Ahriman knew what he was able to do.

"What is it about?"

"I need you to accept before telling you. However, you will be joining a mercenary outfit I am starting up named KAOS."

"Will it have space for me only?"

"The mission, yes. If you have someone that can be trusted we can have them join KAOS."

"Sounds like a plan. I would like to invite a couple of persons. And I guess that means I accept whatever it is you want me to do."

"Excellent. Give the names to Silia and she'll set it up."

Asteroth's brainpal received an incoming signal from Ahriman containing a rather large amount of data. He entered his virtuality and received the information directly into his brainpal. He chuckled mentally, this was the kind of assignments he lived for, a deep undercover infiltration of a major guild with the exposure of its financial secrets as main goal. He ran different scenarios in his virtuality and decided on one of them, transmitted the data back to Ahriman and smiled at Silia. Three seconds had elapsed.

"I am going to need documents proving me to be Tufan Oreminer please. Native of Valent Industries. I'll send you the details along with my crew. For now I will need around five million to get my licenses up to speed as well as get a proper mining ship."

Silia handed him a cred stick and smiled back at him.

"You'll find ten million on that one. I'll have the papers ready for you in an hour."

Asteroth took the cred stick and nodded. He was going to have to alter himself somewhat and he knew just the person who would do this with no questions asked; Dr. Riviera.

###

Keria docked her Atlas X at Aeolus Trading Prefect like she would tuck in a newborn; ever gently and with loving care. She knew just how good a pilot she was; she didn't need to show off. Upon entering the dock she queried the local network and got confirmation that Rid's ship had not left the station. Perfect, just what she had hoped for. Actually she was supposed to be on-duty for another three days but a younger ONE member had asked if he could be allowed to do the Xith convoy escorting and so she had been released early. She accessed her brainpal and looked for Rid's signature while staying hidden by one of her concealment spy-programmes. The query took almost two seconds and didn't really tell her anything she couldn't have guessed if she had thought about it. He was at the "Arms of Kali" naturally and quite probably drinking while watching Death Fights from the arena in Odia Stronghold. She would go straight there and liberate him from his boredom. She highjacked a station security cam and focused on herself, using it instead of a mirror. She adjusted her long auburn hair so it didn't show that it had just been underneath a helmet for six hours straight, activated her skin-nano's that ensured a perfect make-up and zipped her suit down just a bit. She winked at the camera, relinquished control of it to the panicked security officer that was supposed to control it and headed into the station looking for her hubby, perfectly aware of the turned heads she caused along the way.

###

The two Rev C's were neck to neck outside the rundown race circuit in Sedina B-5. Azumi had suggested that they should do a race before hitting Daltas Hold, naturally with a wager attached. Retractile really needed to win this one, as he was not sure his ego could survive the consequences. Somehow Azumi had a knack of dreaming the most humiliating things up for him to do when he lost. The computer counted the seconds down to go and he instantly pushed the throttle to maximum thundering his neon blue rocketship towards the entrance and managed to enter it before Azumi. He cut the turbo and focused on piloting the narrow course avoiding the walls and remembering the layout of the maze. It was not that hard really, left, left, up, left and right and then the exit. The turn came up and he positioned his ship to turbo on the long straight area immediately behind the bend. He stroke the control and his forward dorsal nozzles fired the briefest of puff's aligning him perfectly for the turn when his craft was hit from behind by Azumi's ship. He momentarily lost control and crashed side-first into the separating wall between the two paths stopping him completely and making space for Azumi's ship to overtake him. He shouted a lengthy oath that would have caused deafness to even moderately sensitive people and hammered the turbo to catch up. She was now at least a hundred metres in front of him and it would take a small miracle for him to catch up and win this one. He boosted a bit more that he would normally and almost skirted into the wall when he had to turn but gained ten metres. Unfortunately there were only six turns left and that meant she would be winning by thirty metres. Crap. The desperation forced him to come up with a creative solution and at a time when he had to focus completely to gain on her. He remembered the loop almost near the end and a grin forced its way out onto his face through the grimace of concentration. He had one chance, one chance only. Azumi neared the junction that contained the loop and as she was about to enter the exit path Retractile fired his twin-linked Neutron guns below her ship and into the exit corridor. The pink Rev C took evasive action reflexively and entered the loop allowing Retractile to regain the lead.

"You cheat!"

He laughed out loud at the feigned outrage from Azumi as he boosted across the finish seconds before her.

"But I won."

"Crap. I'm going to have to detour to V Hold first then. Aw hell Ret, you better be there to back me up then."

"I promise I'll be right there behind you." He didn't want to miss this for the world anyway!

###

The oppressive stench of semi-rotted food, spilled alcohol and offal was enough to dissuade even the most hardened of cleaners to start clearing the mess inside the small room. For a station that was renown for its filthy living conditions, as well as its no holds barred "night" life that seemed to go on 24/7, this room was a study in filth. William didn't think of it as home, his home had been destroyed some time ago and he only came back here as a stray dog that had nowhere else to go. He collapsed onto the filthy rags that covered the stained mattress he used for sleeping. Those few hours that he actually slept, the nightmares making it almost impossible. Lying on his left side and staring into the wall, he spied a not completely empty bottle of amber liquid and grabbed for it. He didn't even bother smelling it and put the bottle to his lips, gulping the amber lukewarm liquid in large noisy swallows. When the bottle was empty he put his hand back down on the mattress still clutching it and closed his eyes. Tears kept pouring from the left eye and made a continuous streak of clean from eye to ear but not a sound was heard from him. Eventually he drifted off to semi-sleep but the tears kept flowing, his madness and guilt manifested in that seemingly innocent way. Someone was going to die soon.

8. Can I get a D, A, L, T...

The tailor bot was, as many fine inventions, created to make uniforms for the Serco military. Until it had been “liberated” and sold off at the Sedina V Hold station and converted to civilian purposes. It was merely a question of changing the input from drab brown and red cloth, to whatever colour you wanted and in whatever quality you desired. The patterns were selected from a wide variety of choices from the terminal in front of it and after scanning the targeted person it would disgorge the required clothing in under a minute. Azumi grabbed the blue and white package that arrived and grinned mischievously to Retractile.

"What are you up to Az?"

"A treat baby. Just you wait and see."

Retractile grinned back and nodded. He was in no doubt that the clothes, or rather the wearing of them, would be the cause of many accidents in Daltas Hold tonight. She turned and walked over to a styling pod, closing the door behind her. Nothing to do but wait until the chrysalis was ready to show the butterfly that was being prepared within. V Hold was the prime port for piracy in Sedina but looked to be fairly quiet tonight. Normally he would have spotted one or two SYN members but they had been keeping low for a while. Only absolute lowlife and one or two wannabe pirates were milling about, the term "like headless chicken" popped into Ret's head unwillingly. He laughed out aloud and one of them, a hulking slab of meat complete with synth-leather vest, synth-leather pants and studs in his forehead looked over in his direction. It was fairly obvious that he had at some time found a large stash of steroids and Serco muscle implants and had not shared with anyone else.

"The fuck you laughin at smurf?"

The smile disappeared from Retractile's face and turned into a hostile mask of loathing. He hated being called smurf just because his parents had been Itani. He was not and would never be Itani. Unless punks started calling him names wrongly. That is when his Itani heredity surfaced and he stopped being nice.

"Until a second ago, not you."

"You looking for trouble smurf?"

The brute walked over in front of Retractile, towering more than a head above him and flexing his hands almost uncontrollably. Retractile cursed the long vibro dagger that lay in his cockpit and decided on playing it cool instead. He was not sure he could come out of a fight with this one without getting hurt somehow. The brute had activated a ring on his left hand and the vibrations from the knuckle field were loud enough to be heard like the buzzing of a giant wasp. He was going to get hurt big time if he got hit with that one for sure.

"Cause I'll gimme a trouble smurf. Not so smart anymore are you? S M U R.."

Retractile was pretty sure that the brute was going to say F as the next word but never found out. Something crackled with electricity and the brute collapsed into an undignified heap on the metal grid floor. Azumi stood behind him, a taser in hand and an even more mischievous grin on her face than before. The small white shorts with blue stars, the light blue shirt that was tied together in front and the vest that had blue sleeves and white chest, also adorned with three stars on each side, fit her perfectly. She had flash-dyed her hair and had now a mane of straw-coloured gold underneath a blue and white cowboy hat. She swirled and showed the back complete with the "Daltas Cowboys" in swung letters on the back of the vest before stopping and pointing at Ret with twin imaginary six-shooters.

"Do you like it?"

"Mah, Ah, eh I think, ah."

"Good. Who was your racist friend here?"

Retractile looked down in confusion and saw the convulsing form of the brute on the floor. The taser had been dropped with the activation switch locked and was pumping 50k volts into the brute every second.

"A nobody. Damn you look fine Az. Daltas Cowboys?"

"Yeah, they have a team for the Death Fights. They lose a lot but it is fun to watch."

"I'd have to see it one day. You ready?"

She presented a jacket to him also in blue and white and made him hold it while she put it on. He couldn't help asking about what he thought he had seen on her lower back.

"Az, is that a tattoo on your lower back?"

"Yeah, I had it made some time back. Says Flare Bait and points twin arrows down."

Ret started laughing and didn't stop until they had walked all the way to the docks.

###

Riddik felt better than he had for ages. And for once the feeling of satisfaction did not originate in drinking massive amounts of high-ethanol liquids but rather was a thoroughly genuine experience. The girl next to him was part of the explanation. Cat was fun and all, and with her auburn hair and creche bred physique even reminded him of Keria but she was no substitute for his own personal temple of worship. Still, Cat was good company. The torn and shredded uniform was part of it for sure. The fabric had tried to contain Riddik but failed miserably sometime during the fight and ruptured in several places, turning the too small TGFT flight suit into a prop for a Hulk movie. It no longer hurt in nasty places. But the thing that probably tipped the scales was the wounds from the hold-out pistol and from the dagger. None of them were dangerous or even serious; Riddik had his internal organs re-organised and hardened a long time ago during infantry training and his brainpal pumped enough endorphins into his system to mask the damage. That was the icing on the cake, the dope that made him feel great. He grinned when he realised that and snorted a half choked laugh.

"What's so funny about that? I mean it. I really like the gyrock, it is so easy to use and absolutely kills anyone dead."

"Not that Cat. I get your point though. It was something else I laughed at."

"Oh?"

"I just realised what makes me happy."

"And what might that be?"

Cat brought the bottle of Dark Lady to her lips and tipped it slightly letting the golden liquid please her taste-buds while eying Riddik with half closed eyes over the bottom.

"I just need someone to stab and shoot me gently for the rest of my life while saving damsels in distress."

Cat almost choked on the beer, brought it down quickly and covered her face while beer slowly dripped out of her nose. Riddik started laughing loudly as he scrummaged around for something to let her wipe her face. Not finding anything he ripped a sleeve off from the torn uniform and handed it over. Cat wiped the beer from her face and mock-punched him on the shoulder while grinning.

"So, this is how you spend your days off duty? Hanging around in bars, semi-naked and with strange Serco women?"

Riddik turned quickly at the sound of Keria's voice and rose from the stool extending his arms for a massive hug. The sneer on Keria's face was not what he wanted to see.

"You can forget that you oaf. Jeez, I can't leave you alone for ten seconds before you are all over the place!"

Keria started to turn on her heel and leave.

"You must be Mrs Willenium. I am sorry to say that your husband is a great liar."

Keria stopped halfway and turned to the not quite mirror image of herself, ready to tear her head off.

"He said that you were pretty. He understated that by a mile ma'am. Now you are here, he may start talking about something else besides how much he misses you. You are a very lucky lady, ma'am."

Cat rose and extended her hand.

"Catherine Plissensky, Cat for short ma'am."

Keria shook the hand Serco style, hands grabbing wrists and squinted at Cat trying to place her.

"Haven't I've seen you before? What sequence were you in?"

"Rhamus creche Delta 283-3A ma'am. Pilot line."

"I flew with one from Delta 283, named Liz Eddard. Good pilot."

"Yeah, we look pretty identical being of the same material ma'am."

Keria ignored Riddik and seated herself on his chair.

"So, what are you doing with my hubby?"

"He saved me from the local thugs. Again I might add."

"Oh?"

Cat smiled and emptied her bottle. She slid off her stool and placed the bottle on the bar.

"I better let Riddik explain that ma'am. Besides, the way he was talking about you kinda guarantees that I am not wanted company right now. Have a good day ma'am."

Cat nodded to Keria, winked to Riddik and left the bar. Keria waited until she had left completely before turning to Riddik who was standing with his arms still extended and looking completely lost and miserable.

"C'mere big boy."

The smile that had hidden inside Riddik and thought it would die a miserable death exploded onto his face and he grabbed and kissed Keria before hugging her close to his chest.

"So, tell me how you found that cat baby."

she followed me home ..... Can i keep her?

9. Pirate's nest

Cat turned right outside the "Arms of Kali" and stopped about ten metres further along the corridor. She leaned against the bulkhead, closed her eyes and leaned her head further back. The re-discovery of how much trouble she was in, forced itself upon her again with massive force. She had no place to go, no place to sleep and no one to ask for help. Deciding to postpone the decision until tomorrow she accessed the station dataweb and found the nearest coffin motel. She hoped they had a toothbrush for sale and maybe some clean underwear.

The lack of human attendants was a sure sign of the complete lack of any kinds of niceties and Cat's mood sank to a new low. She accessed the dataweb booker and paid the measly 25 UIT credits for a night. This secured a rather stained but clean smelling bed and a palm lock. Sighing she collapsed on the bed and curled up into a ball, wallowing in her misery and loneliness. She must have dozed off somehow because her brainpal awoke her gently with a cocktail of uppers, an incoming call was waiting for her. She scanned the incoming package and found no malware.

"M'yeah?"

"Catherine. I am Silia and you don't know me. However you know Asteroth and he asked me to contact you."

"Ast? I thought he was dead?"

"No, he is very much alive. However he is not available right now and left it to me to ensure that you are offered what he was offered."

Cat was supposed to answer the statement with an inquisitive and sound interested but she was too tired to bother. Instead she just waited until this Silia person went on.

"Ehm, right. Before I go on I must warn you that a Serco hit team has your number and is looking for you. I am rather certain that you will not survive an encounter with them. However, I am offering you a position in a newly formed mercenary outfit called Kinetic Action Order Systems or KAOS for short. We will secure your safety, ensure that you have a job and a place to stay."

"Who is in command?"

"Nominally it is Asteroth but the overall commander in his absence is a Serco named Ahriman."

"I need to talk to Ast first about this. I don't know this Ahriman."

"Asteroth is not available right now but I have a coded message to you from him. Indicate when ready for data-squirt."

Cat created a virtual self and uploaded the data into the partition to check it for war-ware. Detecting none, she opened the data in her own virtuality. Apparently Asteroth had anticipated something like this and his usual avatar had been replaced with a golden disc. Since this was a one-way message, Cat had not bothered with her own avatar and was represented by vision only.

"Cat, the Lady Serco be praised that we found you in time. Seems that our enemies have quite a vengeful streak, unfortunately coupled with the resources of GESTEBO. They will eventually kill you unless you get some protection Cat, just as they killed Beria. I am not telling you what to do but merely offering what I was offered as well. A place where you can feel at home. I bet you miss your creche mates already just as I missed mine when I was taken away. I cannot offer a new creche but I can offer a unit of like-minded soldiers in KAOS. I hope you will accept Cat, I would like to work with you again."

The avatar blinked out and a small icon informed her that she could replay the message, delete it or save it. She exited the virtuality and once more engaged the connection to Silia. It was not as if she had much of a choice in the matter, nor anything better waiting for her.

"When do I start?"

She could almost hear the smile on the other end as Silia informed her of the practicalities. She didn't care about that, she just wanted somewhere to belong.

###

"C'mon boys, D. A. L. T. A. S Cooooooooooooooooowbooooys."

Retractile facepalmed as the six dockhands shouted back to Azumi while imitating her letter dance. She had to have snorted something very potent on the way to Daltas. Ever since she jumped out of the cockpit of her pink Rev C she had been shouting, dancing and.... well cheering. She finished the dance with a split before looking up at the by now sweating dockhands and clapping at them. She ran over to Retractile, past him and without waiting to see if he was joining her or not, bounced on into the station proper. Retractile shook his head and followed her while grinning at the mayhem she left in her wake as people walked into each other, dropped things or just followed her with their eyes. She stopped outside the "Pirate's Nest", looked at the sign and moved through the bouncers as if they had consisted of pure vacuum. Retractile hurried over to the entrance but was stopped by the meat duo outside. Retractile sighed deeply and theatrically before producing his CLM ID. The meat puppets scanned it with a handheld device, a sign of decadence or poverty since finger scanners had been the norm in normal space for years by now. Realising that they were interfering with a high-ranking member of the most powerful independent pirate organisation, they excused profoundly which Retractile dismissed with a wave before entering the chaos behind the kitsch mauve doors.

The entrance was long and narrow, opening into a fairly big circular room in two levels with broad stairs leading up to the upper level. Naturally the upper level would be reserved for very important people that wanted to be left alone and the entrance to the stairs was duly blocked by yet another set of meat puppets. To the left was a platform on top of a very long bar, opposite it was a stage that was right now inhabited by a synth-metal band complete with go-go girls and even an Eo Rawlasaurus. Retractile didn't have to look around for long. The blue and white burst of colour was standing, or rather dancing in a group of green and blue uniformed persons. Apparently Azumi had found the TGFT members along with what looked to be some members of PA. A young girl clad in what resembled someone's lost keychain but was in reality probably a chain mail bikini tried to get Retractile's attention, finally getting it by showing the drinks card in front of his face. Settling for a strawberry daiquiri, strong liquor had never been Retractile's strong side, he settled where he could watch the spectacle around Azumi.

Azumi had entered the room like a ball-lightning on steroids. The band had not started yet which made it possible for her to catch everyone's attention with a particular loud Daltas Cowboys cheer. Ending the cheer in with her hands over her heads in a Y she flashed the entire club a perfect smile. The band decided to start at that precise moment with an explosion of noise and light that framed her further entry into the club. The entrance was a choreographer's wet dream. She strode directly over to the bar where a group of green and blue uniformed men were standing, drinks in hand and enjoying the show. She scanned them and went for the kill. Her target was about average height, a loose fitting jump suit, light brown hair and an uneasy smile that betrayed that it had not been his idea to go clubbing. She ignored him completely and rudely, worming her way in between him and the TGFT member standing next to him.

"So,"

she made a show of reading the nametag on the chest of the flight suit before looking up at the owner,

"councillor Eldritch, what does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?"

John smiled broadly and turned to the barkeep accompanied by the hoots and cheers of the remaining TGFT and PA members. A handsign, a nod and a finger that pointed to Pasquel secured a tray full of Teh Killa shots. He picked up two and presented one to Azumi.

"'Ere you go miss."

He waited with his own drink with a slight grin on his face. Azumi took it the shot, placed it in her mouth and tossed it back before handing John the empty glass upside down.

"Yummy."

She grabbed another one while John tossed his shot and waited for him to put the empty glass down and grab his own second shot. She winked one eye at him before tossing the second shot. This was going according to her plan so far.

###

The feeling was impossible to resist. Like he could no less stop his heart beating no matter how much he might have wished for it to happen, he really did not have a choice in the matter. He needed to shed blood, he needed to kill the daemons inside his head, still the voices of the innocents especially the voice of Janice. And the unborn child. That voice was the worst as it wasn't a voice as such but more of a gloomy feeling of failure, of betrayal; of impotence. He grasped the bottle of clear liquid and gulped it in large swallows to allow him to tune them out. The fiery liquid was followed by an unholy collection of different pills that was not intended to be used with alcohol, and definitely not in those amounts. He sat on the edge of the filthy bed and stared at the wall waiting for the medicine and alcohol to work its magic. The left eye started running and his eyes seemed to lose their glimmer of compassion and sentience. William Cutting was no longer. The thing that had replaced him had a slight loopsided smile. His hand followed the side of the bed until the filthy rags that was instead of a pillow, searched under it and found the straight razor beneath.

"I'll cut 'em Janice, I'll cut 'em good"

Moving with a grace that didn't fit his appearance he exited the door and with no doubt went left into the service corridors to search for prey. Any prey would be sufficient as long as it could bleed. As long as it could drown out the noises, the voices, the ghosts. The tear streamed from his left eye, the only remnant of his sanity.