PC 5983 (RP, see ooc signup)

[Mantella]

Post Crash fifty-nine eighty-three, a year where time has healed the wounds of the great war and the scars from it can no longer been seen on the earth, although it and the crash that followed it may have shaped almost all that we see.

It is a year where wondrous cities cover the globe, and towers rise high from the earth. From the ground they seem to reach up to the stars, and from the top the stars can be so clearly seen, although still so far off. And up among the stars drift yet more cities, nations even. The wonders of man are everywhere, and among those wonders too are the wonders of mutants, and cyborgs.

It is a year where the first man has risen to the matriarchal throne of the Empire. A thrown whose power reaches over an entire planet, and controls it with ease and benevolence at that.

It is a year where the constantly feuding families of old live in peace no longer at war. Where they instead are friendly competitors in on the battle field of capitalism. And the religions, and races, and classes of old, too live together in harmony. What need is there for war. And what desire is there for it, after its results have seen so clearly.

It is a year where lives are long, so rarely cut down by diseases or the use of drugs or murder. Even on the stations lives last for decades more then they had in other years. Yes, lives are long, and lives are happy. It is a year with little need for stress or strife.

Yes, the year is Post Crash fifty-nine eighty-three, and all is well with the world.

[Kile Ronnaly]

The little man walked through the well lit corridor which connected the libraries historic building to the new wing which housed all the modern library facilities. It was a brisk walk for he was excited to show his new findings to his coworkers.
Kile's first stop was breakroom on the first for of the new wing where he found just who he had expected to, although didn't exactly want to, Ronald, the libraries director of patron affairs. The corpulant Ronald was leaning on a counter next to the coffee maker, with of the warm liquid in one hand. He smiled as Kile approached him.
"Good morning Ronald."
"That it is Kile. How ya doing?" He chuckled and slapped the much smaller man on the shoulder playfully, nearly knocking him off his feet.
"Well, I'm uh fine, thank yo..." Kile's meak repley was cut short.
"Glad to hear it! Would you like a cup of the ol' jove?"
"Well no thank you I..."
"You know Kile I don't understand how you can stay awake over there with all nothing but all those old musty books without drinking coffee."
"Well actually its quite interesting... infact jus..." The soft spoken individual was once again interupted. But he was used to such occurance and made nothing of it, he prefered to avoid conflict.
"You don't say? Well I'm afraid I really must be getting back to work you know."
Kile found it highly unlikely that Ronald would actually be doing any work, he was know for being the most indolent of the library's employees.
"Oh dear, well I'd hate to keep you from your work."
Ronald, still smileing left the brakeroom in the direction of his office, although he would likely be back as soon as Kile was gone. And it wasn't long before that happened, as the historian was still eager to find someone who would listen.

[Drawde]

Alletnam's office took up the enitre four hundred forty-seventh story of the tower that was his companies corperate headquaters. It was the tallest building and one likely would have been able to see from coast to coast from the lofty position of the office, had it had any windows. But it had not, and that was not the only oddity of the expansive room, it was quite peculiar indeed, much like its occupant. The walls, carpet and ceiling were all white, and lining the white walls were a variety of weapons on display. They ranged from swords and daggers to rifles and pistols, just about any weapon imaginable. The only reason Alletnam was permited to keep these illegal artifacts was because he was a collector, and none of the armaments were permited to be removed from their displays. Despite the vast amounts of space the room was practically empty aside from the weapons. On one end neatly organized desk where Alletnam spent his time, and on the wall opposite was the single elevator which permited access to the office.

The wealthy psychic sat at his desk patiently waiting for his daily report on the affairs of his buisness. His most trusted assistant arived just on time as always. He was a well groomed and trimmly dressed blond headed man of middle age. The suit he wore was a deep red, colorful, but far from flamboyant, sharply contradicting to the apperance of his employer.
"Well?"
"I have little of special interest to report today Mister Drawde. Everything is running smoothly, profits are remaining level, and there has been no news of importance scince my last report."
Alletnam nodded slowly, the daily report rarely varied, but as they say, no news is good news. "What of my 'special' project?" It was a question he asked daily, although he didn't expect the answer to change.
"I am afraid there has been no new progress from the research team sir."
Drawde sighed. "Verywell, what is next on my agenda."
"It is time for your employee meeting."
The sharp assistant dropped a folder on his employer's desk. Drawde opened it and began reading. Everyday Alletnam met with one of his employees, a different one each day. There was no real reason for the meeting aside from the meeting aside from allowing Alletnam to be meet all of his works... and more importantly perhaps from them to meet him.
When he finished reading Drade closed the folder and handed it back to his assistant.
"Send up Mr. Beckert."

[JoJo the Magic Sheep]

Laszlo was the type of employee who was rarely at his desk but, unfortunately, the one time he was there for any legnth of time he happened to be caught.
"Mister Beckert?"
Laszlo impatiently looked up at the man in front of him, hoping that by looking irritable he'd go away.
"Mister Drawde wishes to see you now."
Laszlo started. "What?"
"You know. The guy who pays your salary."
The two stared at each other for a moment.
"Follow me."
Laszlo stood, a little nervous as to what he'd done wrong but not terribly. He thought he was doing his job fairly well, and it should show. Of course, this could just be one of those routine meetings everyone'd been having to go to lately.
God, I wish I had that kind of free time.
Laszlo followed the man to the elevator, up it, and finally to the floor that contained Drawde's office, among other things surely. The building was too big for there to be only one thing on the floor.
The man whom Laszlo had followed pressed a button next to an intercom nearby. "Sir, Mr. Beckert is here."

[Drawde]

As he waited Alletnam got back to the cumbersome paperwork which consumed much of his time. When the intercom message finally came through that Laszlo had arrived, Drawde dropped the contract he was reading, and slid it to the side.
"Thankyou, bring him in."

In front of Laszlo the shining steel doors of the elevator slid open, revealing the expansive white walled office. Alletnam's assistant gestured for him to entered, and he followed him a few paces behind as he started in.

Releasing the intercom's button Alletnam rose and walked around to the front of his desk to await his guest. He stood still staring across the office with his hands clasped behind his back. When Laszlo finally finished his long walk Alletnam smiled at him.
"Ah, Mister Laszlo Beckert, do take a seat." He spoke with a cultured voice, and an odd sharpness on the staccato consonants like 't' or 'd,' as he waved at the one chair in front of his desk. The chair made of a comfortable leather and had a straight back which enforced a good posture, much like Alletnam's own chair, although less ornate. As we waited for Laszlo to sit the tall man crossed around his desk and took his own seat in graceful movements. All the while his assistant had come to be standing off to the right of Laszlo.
"Would you like a drink Mister Beckert?"

[Satyrn]

Locke darted in, his blade singing through the air in a high arc. His young opponent blocked the cut just above his head. The dulled steel swords making a sharp clash.

Locke's opponent wore his long hair pulled back tightly in a pony tail. His coat was a dark crimson color matching his cybernetically enhanced eyes. His sword was a thick cutlass with an elaborate blood-hilt, a cupped hilt with a red scarf wrapped around it.

Locke's sword by contrast was a longsword with an unusually long hilt. The blade was fairly thin and slightly curved, with quillons in the shape of black raven's wings jutting upward towards the tip of the blade. His hair was relatively short, hanging just above his eyes.

The opponent took a step back and then lunged, trying to force Locke back. Locke merely sidestepped the lunge and pushed the blade away with his own. The red-eyed, red-dressed youth swung his blade around to the side of Locke's head. But Locke was already moving, swinging his own blade down to connect roughly with his opponents hand.

The man dropped his sword, nursing his now injured hand.

You win, Locke..... he said as he bowed formally, retrieving his weapon to salute him with it.

You nearly got me, Aidan. Locke replied as he returned the bow, saluting with his weapon as well.
Maybe next time, friend.

Maybe next time. Aidan agreed. Let's go. I told the group we'd meet them at Hellfire's.

Alright, let's go. We can take my Dragon. Answered Locke, referring to his brand new, slightly-modified airspeeder.

[Kile Ronnaly]

Kile's next stop was upstairs to his boss's office, Mr. Stalttek, the director of the library. The door was slightly ajar and Kile rapped lightly on the door and called in.
"Mister Stalttek?"
"Yes Kile? Come on in."
The little man slipped into the room and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the directors desk.
"What is it you wanted to see me about Kile?"
Stalttek was a nice man and a great person to work for, but still Kile was nervous around him, as he was around most people.
"Well, um, if you're not to busy I wanted to tell you about what I found today in the old library."
"Go ahead, I'm not too busy right now."
"Oh good... its really quite interesting... Oh dear... where should I begin."
Stalttek chuckled, "At the begining prefferably."
Kile laughed a nervous laugh, and then continued, "Right.. um, I came across it when I was looking throught some of the old books as I occasionally do. I opened up one of the bibles and it just fell out... a note... it said... hmm... oh dear, I should of brought it with me... now lets see if I can recall... 'My Dearest Edward, Meet me tonight at the Rathmore building. I know it is in deep Algano territory and you don't like to go there, but it is the only place in the city where the sunrise can be seen. It is so beautiful. With Love Forever, Erin' yes I believe thats how it went."
Across his desk Stalttek sat staring at Kile with his eyebrows slightly raised. "I'm afraid I don't see the significance... Just a love letter left in a book, certainly its age makes it unique, but you seem more exited that this thing warrents."
"Don't you see? Its the names..."

[Lilim_Savanant]

The shuttle descended through the Earth's atmosphere. The outer plating was superheated by the friction of the air as it tore past the outside of the ship. The blast shielding had come down over the viewing ports on either side of the vast upper deck.

The ship comprised of four decks, each holding around one hundred and fifty passengers. Because of the fact the shuttle only travelled once per week there had to be sufficient space to accomodate the large numbers of people that wished to fly to or from the colonies. This was one of five similar vessels currently burning their way towards the Spaceport city of Cazzie.

Lilim sat back in her chair, buckled in with the restraints and holding onto her backpack in her lap, which rattled in time with the ships shuddering motion. She had gotten a great number of funny looks from the other passengers, most of whom were human and hadn't been to the colonies where mutants outnumbered the P-bred a hundred to one. Or of course it could just be her scars that scared them.

Her left arm had been replaced from the elbow down with a cybernetic replacement she had recieved after the incident at OC D/17. Even the thought of that place made her mechanical fingers twitch and spasm. She had seen things there that no-one should ever have seen. The place had been destroyed when the reactors had blown, turning the thing into nothing more than debris. She had never told anyone that it was her that had set the reactors to blow. But then again, they hadn't been there. She knew the others with her would have understood. But they had all died trying to get to the reactor base. She had been the only one to make it to the escape pods in time. Her injuries had been life threatening, and when seven months later she had awakened, the doctors had told her that her heart had stopped fifteen times before they'd been able to fully stabilise her.

But then she had heard news of another escape pod. Just rumors, but she knew that she couldn't simply ignore them. She couldn't let the same happen again. So she had bailed on the infirmary, grabbed some essential supplies and began tracing the rumours.

That was why she was here now. Five months of following rumors and hearsay, tracking down any leads, travelling from colony to colony in search of information. And she'd found more than just words.

She came across three seperate cabals in total, luckily in their infant stage, and their members were not many. She had left a path of destruction through the colonies in clearing out those infestations, but finally she had found what she needed. A name. Asiraphel the Saviour.

Her fist clenched even at the thought of that name. A name of such terror and dread. To most it was but a urban myth. A so called demon man who stalked the colonies, snatching victims and laughing as he dragged them into the night to devour their essence.

Funny how the truth was not so far from fiction.

She had heard his name chanted on OC D/17. Seen his foul worshippers adore him, and watched the man-monster.

Her mind swam back to that time. He had been capturing slaves from the crews of poor trading vessels and had held them captive, torturing them, inflicting pain until they were on the very brink of death. And then he had taken his needle and pierced the base of their skull where it joined the spine, and drained the pain fuelled fluids from them. He used these raw materials and refined them, perfecting them, turning them into some sort of drug. And when he was ready he fed them to his minions. They were addicts, all of them. Fixed on the unimaginable pleasures and sensations his elixir brought them.

But drug crazed mutants were not his most fearsome weapon. She still had no idea how he did it, but he had managed in creating living weapons the likes of which it would have been impossible to guess were even within the realms of possibility.

He had tortured psychics, again bringing them to the brink of death and then he had taken.... something. Whatever it was that gave them their powers, whatever made them psychics. Their power. And he had infused the power of a dozen of these psychics into a single chosen vessel. No being should be able to contain such energy, but it did. And it was loyal to him that gave the stimulants.

It was not natural. Lilim wasn't a religion woman, but even she could find no better word to describe what it had been other than an unholy abomination.

And so she was here. Bound for earth. Following the monster's trail in the hopes she could stop him and kill him before he was able to create any more of his foul creatures or enslave any more people with his degenerate narcotics.

The ship stopped shuddering and the flight became smooth. They were clear sailing now all the way to the landing port. In response, the blast shielding opened up over the windows and people strained to look out at the view of the world beneath them. But Lilim had no care for such things. She'd been looking down at the earth all her life. All she knew, was that on one of these five vessels, Asiraphel was heading for earth. And he had plans that couldn't be allowed to come to fruition.

A large scar on her pale white cheek itched. That was the scar he had given her. He was close.....

[Lilim_Savanant]

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

She slammed the door to the bathroom shut, pulled across the latch and then sat down on the seat cover of the toilet. The ship still shook as it went through a particularly rough bit of turbulence on its slow ride down to Cazzie spaceport. She sat down to help balance herself against the rattle of vessel around her. She placed her bag on her lap, unzipped it and began rummaging through the contents.

She must be getting sloppy after these past few months. She'd completely overlooked the idea, even though it was so blindly obvious. If he was headed down on one of these flights, it could very well be this one. She hadn't even thought to check the other decks in case he was amongst the other one hundred and forty nine passengers that were currently sat in their seats.

She pulled a small box from her bag and unlatched it. Inside was a selection of gun pieces.

A Carter special. Dunion Carter was the genius that had come up with the plasteel compound and put it to use in making arms for smuggling. It was an expensive substance to manufacture, but you really got your money's worth if you were looking for a weapon you could sneak past the guards and take to earth unnoticed. It wasn't a metal as such, but just as durable, although it suffered more at higher temperatures (not the sort of temperatures the majority of the population would ever have to deal with though). The metal detectors at the gates wouldn't pick it up, and so long as it wasn't so obvious as to look like a weapon, you could get it through without anyone noticing.

Hers was a .45 pistol. She also had four clips of plasteel ammo. Thirty-six rounds in total, but hopefully she wouldn't need all that. If she was lucky she could get the bastard with just the one.

She slotted the various parts together, made sure it slid smoothly and then jammed the first clip in. The other three were stowed in thigh pockets on her thick cargo pants. There was also a plasteel knife in a small leg sheath attached to her right shin. She'd made sure to come prepared.

She turned the safety catch of and slid the pistol into a custom shoulder rig holster she'd made herself. It kept the weapon safely hidden under her left armpit, which in turn was covered by the sleeveless flak jacket she wore over her body fitting black t-shirt. It was times like this she was ever so glad she hadn't inherited her mother’s breasts. She was all for the feminine figure in general, but with her career it was a benefit to be nearly flat as a board. She had a very athletic figure that she'd inherited from her father and the muscles to boot. Combined with the agility and dexterity of her mother's flexible body, she was a lot more capable than her old man had ever been.

She closed the bag, pulled it across both shoulders and stood up. Opening the door slowly, she walked out into the main seating area. This time though, she was on red alert and every one of her senses was at peak performance.

She looked across the top deck. Everyone was seated except her and a small number of hostesses, wandering around and checking whether people were ok.

She realised that Asiraphel would have to be robed if he was to cover himself from prying eyes. He was a big man, seven feet tall, but fairly lanky. When she had seen him last he had dressed rather extravagantly. Pinks, purples and blacks. His skin had been dyed white, with curling black tattoos all along his right arm and the left side of his face.

Of course it wasn't his face. She didn't know what his real face had been. Instead he had a face removed from one of his victims stretched and pinned back across his skull. What flesh could be seen poking out from the edge of the grotesque mask looked like it had been mutilated with various surgical implements. And if she were any judge of his character she'd gladly wager that it was self-mutilation.

One other prominent feature was the piece of machinery attached to his back. It was about the size of a small shoebox, and was attached to his spine. Various tubes protruded from it and fed under his clothes. She had been able to see the chemicals pumping to and from the machine. It had become apparent during the fighting that these were combat drugs designed to make him stronger, faster and generally more dangerous.

The only way at all he could cover himself is if he wore a robe completely covering him. The fact that he was so tall would also help her to spot him.

She took another look around the top deck and realised there was no one here that could be a suspect. She slowly moved towards the stairway that would take her down to the next deck.

_______________________________________

The second deck had also been empty of any suspects, and she was beginning to wonder if perhaps she hadn't overreacted a little bit on the idea that he could be on this vessel. The chances were slim after all.

Walking down to the third deck her eyes were immediately drawn to a large hood poking over the top of its seat, situated near the front of the middle column of seats. Her heart began to beat quicker and she could hear the pounding in her head as her blood flow increased. She unzipped the top of her jacket a bit. Just enough so that she could reach in with her right hand and get a firm grip on the pistol, her finger hovering over the trigger.

She walked closer towards the figure down the aisle, and people all around were giving her strange looks. She made it about half way down when someone in the mass of people shouted out.

"Oh my god! She's got a gun!"

The panic was instantaneous. People immediately began screaming and unbuckling their restraints, pushing away from her, or into the aisles where they had a clear route to the other floors. She had been busted. She pulled out the gun and held it firmly in her hand, shouting out at the hooded figure who hadn't moved.

"Asiraphel! I've come for you!"

The hooded figure stood up and spun round, and for a few seconds she seemed to see the world in slow motion. The hood turned gently till it was facing right at her, and in the dark recesses she saw a tooth filled grin and two emerald coloured eyes stare out at her.

The speed at which the pistol came up was unbelievably fast and she had only a fraction of a second to drop down beneath the cover of the seats.

It wouldn't have mattered anyway. An innocent bystander who had been fleeing got in the way of the bullet and it splashed the remains of his head across five rows of seats. The body fell like a puppet without its strings, bent backwards over an armrest.

The screams became shriller at the sound of the gunshot. Now people were stuck between two mystery gunners and mindless panic had set in. People were pushing in every direction and trampling those unfortunate enough to fall over.

She had to physically shove people out of the way as she scrambled for cover and also to try and get a better firing position. She guessed that a hostess had set off the emergency alarm, because klaxons began to wail, only adding to the noise and confusion.

Asiraphel was moving down, pushing past people and shooting randomly into the crowd. Another four people fell to the ground bleeding and screaming in pain. But above all the noise she could hear his maniacal laughter. It was as if he saw nothing but humour in the situation, as if the thought of being killed or hurt was nothing more than another joke to him. It'd been that same laugh she'd heard as he'd tortured and killed people. As if to say 'this is all just a funny joke, and you're not smart enough to see it'.

She pulled her head up and managed to fire a couple of rounds off in his direction. One hit a seat and the head cushion exploded in a small cloud of insulated padding. The second hit a fleeing woman in the cheek and tore the side of her face off.

She didn't like to do it, but she knew that collateral damage was part of the job. There was no way she could let Asiraphel escape, to do so was unimaginable. And so the costs along the way had to be taken at face value. Unfortunate, but unavoidable.

He turned to face her and fired off three rounds in quick succession. Another two people fell from gunshot wounds to the chest. One blacked out and hit the floor head first, the second fell screaming into the crowd and was silenced a second later by a boot to the head.

The third bullet however hit one of the viewing windows.

The glass shattered and was sucked outwards. Lilim had just enough time to use her left hand to grab firmly onto a seat and avoid being pulled towards the window as the air rushed outwards.

The emergency shutters closed down almost immediately, but not before several people had lost shoes, wallets and other assorted items.

She clambered over and around the chairs as she tried to pull closer to him. Glancing over a seat she saw him turn his back and focus his attention on the crowd blocking his way to the exit. He fired another four rounds into the mass of bodies before his gun ran dry. She watched as he fumbled in the recesses of his robe for another clip. This was her chance.

She barged past anyone in her way as she led into a full out charge down the aisle towards him. She managed to grab the knife from its sheath without tripping up, clenching it in her cybernetic left fist, the blade facing forwards as she ran at full pelt. But she wasn't fast enough.

He'd reloaded his gun, and she was only three metres away when he fired his gun at her. All she felt as stab of pain followed by a feeling of cold numbness as the bullet tore through the flesh of right shoulder. It was a clean shot and failed to hit the bone, passing straight through and out the other side. But it must have hit something important because her arm went dead, the pistol slipping out of her now loose grip and onto the bloodstained floor.

Her momentum carried her forward, despite the pain and Asiraphel did not have a chance to fire another shot before she barrelled into him. His gun was knocked flying somewhere as they both fell over, with her on top of him, knife in hand.

She sat up over his body, right arm still limp, with the dagger in her left. For a second she stared into his Emerald eyes. They were filled with a cold insanity that she couldn’t even begin to comprehend. To him this was all just some big joke that only he understood. He was still laughing even though she had him pinned. She stared a second too long.

His hands came up and grasped around her throat. By the gods! He was so strong! She could feel him slowly cutting off her air. Ancient instincts stirred her body into action. She grasped the knife in her fist and swung it down into his arm. The blade went straight through his elbow and the extra force of her bionic arm broke his right arm at the joint. There was a momentary lapse in pressure around her neck and then his remaining arm squeezed tighter.

Raining a flurry of blows into him she plunged the knife with all her strength. It tore through the robe and the armour and flesh beneath. Black blood began to seep from the wounds, polluted by the chemicals flowing through him. Her blade plunged in again and again, quick successive punches that broke ribs and ruptured organs as the adrenalin overcame her higher thoughts. The only thing keeping her from passing out was the single thought of killing the monster in front of her. He was laughing at her, not even flinching, not feeling the pain of his wounds. She had driven the knife into him nearly twenty times, when finally his grip began to weaken. The air began to seep down her neck in brief gulps as she tried desperately to fill her lungs again. He was still laughing when she shoved the blade into the side of his neck. Black fluid spilled from the mouth of the fleshy mask, and he spat some of it into her face.

Gasping for breath she grabbed his collar and pulled his head up from the carpet. Her voice came out shaky and in short breathes. ”How…. do you… like… that… you bastard!” She looked into his eyes, but even as his life was slowly fading away there was no diminishing the flame of insanity that burnt within him. His arm fell away from her neck and hit the carpeted floor with a thump. His throat gurgled slightly as he forced himself to speak.

”How very nice… to see you… again…” Then his head went slack and fell backwards. The thing in her hands now just a lifeless corpse leaving dark stains on her clothes and on the carpet. She let go of him and tried to pull herself up, using one of the seats next to her as support. The wound in her shoulder was still numb and her arm was slick with red blood that dripped down her flesh. Blood loss and lack of oxygen left her feeling weak and dizzy. The adrenalin rush was abating and there was nothing left to keep her going. Colours and lights flickered in front of her face and her vision became blurry. The last thing she saw was the shapes of security guards coming out of the stairwell carrying stun rifles. Voices were shouting something at her, but she couldn’t make out the words. It was like listening under water. Her view seemed to fall sideways, the lights sparkling everywhere.

And then she blacked out.

[Rosencrantz]

The two twins were abruptly awakened by the a shout of "Oh my god! She's got a gun!" from several seats in front of them. The words were immediately followed by a great deal of commotion, people all around were jumping up from their seats and running around like chickens with their heads cut off. The still somewhat sleepy brothers on the other hand remained seated and buckled in even. They were not the sorts to panic; Ross, although fear was one of the emotions he knew and felt, it was not enough to throw him into a panic, and Gil, was simply far to level headed to react in such a way.
"I wonder what's wrong..." questioned Ross.
His brother shrugged nonchalantly and replied "I'm not certain, but I'd wager it has something to do with those two people with guns several rows ahead of us." The sentence was punctuated by the first gunshot, making the cyborg brothers a bit more nervous but still unmoving. [color=orange]"I knew it was a bad idea to leave the station.

Sinking down a bit in their seats to avoid any stray bullets the brothers watched the violent even unfold. Occasional Gil would wince at the more gruesome occurrences in the battle, although his computer minded brother was much less affected by death. He knew it to be unpleasent, and certainly something to be avoided but it did not play on his limited emotions as it would have on a normal person.

Such incidents were rare on the ships heading towards earth due to very tight security at the check points before boarding the ship, and because of that the onboard security was relatively sparse. Consisting of only a handful of officers spread amongst the large group of passengers. The group of officers managed to make it to the third deck of the ship just in time... to see the stunning conclusion to the gun fight, as the victorious woman fell unconcious. They did their best to calm the still frenzied crowd as the ship concluded its decent to earth.

[Lilim_Savanant]

There was a sense of movement. Drifting. Floating.

She couldn’t focus, her mind was hazy and her thoughts jumbled.

Her body felt heavy. Pressing down on her. She couldn’t move.

She couldn’t see. There was only darkness. And sounds. Words. Like a dream. They filtered in. In pieces. Shards.

….need her alive…….will be wanted… questioning….

Like a dream. A sound. Like heavy breathing. Her breathing she realised.

….she’s in a critical……… she’s already……two flatlines….….having trouble…..her stable….

Something over her face. Her mouth. Covering her. Was it stopping, or helping her breath? She couldn’t focus.

…..oxygen steady?….. she’s starting to………some more anaesthetic………… her pain…..

Pain. Cold. Like ice. No. Not pain. Something like not pain. Thoughts jumbled. Fragmented. Broken.

…..make sure……….. flatline again…….her steady……

Ice. Yes. Cold ice. Inside her. Flowing through her body. Cold. Yet soothing. Not painful. Cold not pain. Head hurt. Head swimming.

……her to the………… its parked………….of the building…….

Feelings. Motion. Pushing. Something pushing her. Motion was pushing. So hard to concentrate. The cold. So inviting was the cold.

…….coming with you……….guards as well…….

Lifting. More motion. The cold slips away. Sounds. More sounds. Motor sounds. Outside sounds.

…….driver……..hospital quick. She’s……….

A slam of door. Then cold. More cold. Soothing cold. And black becomes blacker. Someone shouts something. A noise. Quiet noise. Beep. It gets quieter. Fades. Black gets nearer. Sleep. Voices get quieter. Sleep. Shouting. Sleep.

……quick! She’s flatlined………. Revive her……. Quick!…….

Black. Quiet. Sleep. Drifting sleep. Sleep. Warm sleep. Sleep.
_________________________________________________________

Within the back of the ambulance the emergency crew managed to get her heart beating for the third time since they’d found her. The driver started up and flew the hovering craft towards the main hospital building. Behind him were another five carrying other injured from the flight. And in front and behind of the small convoy of medical vehicles was an escort of police craft.

[Drawde]

Before Laszlo could even respond to the offer for a drink Alletnam silenced him, raising up on long slim finger. There was a small white light blinking on his desk, signaling him to pick up his phone, which he did.
"Yes?... I see... I will be right down." He hung up and looked back to the waiting customs officer. "I am terribly sorry Mister Beckert but pressing matters have arisen. If you have any questions of comments for me that I should hear soon then please tell them to my assistant. I assure you we will continue this meeting at the next possible time. You may have the rest of the day off."
With that he rose and started down the long room towards the elevator leaving Laszlo and his assistant at his desk behind him.
~~~~~~~~~~~
It was but a few minutes before he was down in the main terminal of the space port. It was just as the shuttle where the incident occurred was coming down. The tall psychic business man looked over the numerous security officers and medical technicians around him.
"As soon as the shuttle is down and comes to a stop I want everyone off of it. The injured are to be taken immediately to the hospital, but they are to be detained. Everyone is to be detained. And I want the dead taken to the coroner for full autopsies." Alletnam was quite upset, but it did not show is his always sharp voice.
From the group game a chorus of affirmatives as they all went off to do as instructed.
~~~~~~~~~~
Mister Drawde awaited on the tarmac with his arms folded behind his back as the passengers were be escorted and in some cases carted away from the shuttle. Along side him came to stretchers escorted by a number of doctors and security officers. The officer with the most shiny bits on his uniforms, quite obviously in charge, saluted the wealthy Alletnam, and began speaking as they both walked alongside the stretchers which kept moving.
"Sir... these are the two individuals involved in the incident. It seems the woman drew first, and after a heated battle killed the man."
On one of the stretchers was a young woman, quite badly injured but still alive and surrounded by doctors whom continued to constantly chatter about her condition among each other. On the other stretcher was a tale pale man, not unlike Alletnam himself aside from all the tattoos not to mention a number of other strange disfigurements. The lack of a heartbeat was also a bit different from Drawde.
"This man... hold off on his autopsy... I wish to examine him myself. As for her... inform me as soon as she regains consciousness... I wish to question her myslef."
The rich fellow has seen the corpse before, well before he was corpse that is. He had at one time been on Alletnam's payroll. Working on some of the rich mans more seedy projects. Of course a bit too ambitious and a bit to eccentric. According to the rumors he was still working on many of the experiments on his own, but obviously not any more.

As the two stretchers continued to roll away yet another man stepped up beside Alletnam.
"Mister Drawde?"
"Yes?"
"You have a call... its the emporer."
Alletnam let out a sigh as he accepted the phone.

[Tybalt]

Tybalt was moving even before he heard the shout. He extended his claws and cut through the restraints, rolled out of his chair and came up, ready for battle. But it seemed like he wasn't the target. Once he realised this, he moved closer to get a better look at what was happening. A gun-fight between a woman, a mutie it seemed, and a man taller even than himself. He ignored the chaos around him and moved closer still, to see it all. He heard the mental screams screams of the dying and smiled. Then a stray bullet his him in the chest.
He fell to the floor, stunned for a second. He knew the bullet had pierced his lung, not a serious threat thanks to his artificial lungs self-healing function. But it would slow him down, and the bleeding was also a problem. He got up, pushing away the panicked crown around him, and looked around.
The mutie woman was sitting on the tall man, repeatedly stabbing him in the chest, ignoring the hand around her throat. Tybalt watched as life finaly left the man, waiting for his dying scream to fill his head, and instead heard laughter! Tybalt was chocked. EVERYBODY screamed. It might be of fear, suprise or pain, but They All Screamed! They did not met Death like it was some kind of joke! He felt like this mans mental laugh was a personal insult, and an insult to Death. He leaned back, one hand trying to stop the bleeding. He sat there untill the emergency people came to take care of the wounded.

It was at the hospital a few hours later, when the bullet had been removed and the wound closed, that he found out that he not was allowed to leave., he nodded, saying that he understood. Then he went to the bathroom.

The window was small, and he had some trouble getting through it. Once outside, he had another problem. He was on the sixty nineth floor of the hospital. Hanging in one hand from the window, he pulled out a device from his pocket. After attaching a hook to the steel edge of the window, he let go of his grip. The thin wire he had fastened slowed down his fall, so he hit the ground at an acceptable speed. Then he left the hospital grounds at a run. He had a lot of preparations to do, and he didn't know how much time he had.

[Tybalt]

It was with another face that Tybalt returned to the hospital, less than one hour later. Dark-skinned and blue-eyed, and with a bunch of flowers in one hand and a bag over his shoulder. Not even his mother would have recognised him. He had used his contacts and managed to find out where this mysterious woman was being held. Room 11B on the so called "security" floor. He picked up his palm computer and checked the map of the building again. Yes, this would work.

He took the lift to floor 105 and then went to a small store-room. The lock was a easy one and he soon was inseide. This room was windowless, but behind one of the shelves he found what he was looking for. A ventilation shaft. He quickly removed the plastic net that covered it. As the map of the building had indicated, it was large enough to let him trough. After putting the flowers in the bag, he climbed in and started crawling.

He reached the room that was his goal without any major problems. Looking through the plastic net he saw the mysterious mutie woman strapped to a bed. Two guards was sitting on chairs beside the door and in high on a wall was a security camera. Tybalt picked out the camera scrambler form his bag, aimed it, and pressed the trigger. He felt his sight go slightly blurry, before returning to normal again. The camera would not work for hours. With one eye on the guards he quickly cut through the net. Then he launched himself into the room.

He caught the guards off-guard, and had cut their throats before they had a chance to scream for help. He quickly barricaded the door and then relieved the corpses of their stun batons and wallets, before turning to the bed. Puting the flowers on the table beside he sat down in a chair, waiting for her to awake. He did not have to wait for long, since she soon began to stir. He placed a hand over her mouth, and her eyes snapped open.

- We need to speak, but not here. If you want to leave, just say the word and I'll get you out of here. Otherwise, you will have to answer a lot of questions from the police.

He glanced at the door.

- You better decide soon. My guess is that someone is already on the way here.

[Lilim_Savanant]

She slept the sleep of the tortured. Drugs had been coursing through her system for the past few hours and it had made her rest uneasy. But this wasn't the only thing that made her ill at ease. He was there in her head. She could hear his laughter. See his face. That laughing, grinning face. Those glittering eyes. And within them, only madness and a mind no normal human could ever hope to understand.

She was there, in the shuttle again. With a gun in her hand. But it was different. There was no sense of movement in the craft, and outside the viewing panels was only darkness. The air had a strange quality to it. Musky, with unusual scents. Like spices, or incense being burnt.

And then he was there, in front of her. He was standing as she remembered him. Pulling back the hood he gave her a smile.

She fired the gun. A dozen times it recoiled in her hand, spitting the small bullets towards the laughing maniac. Each one hit him, each one sprayed blood and gore, tearing through his flesh. And yet he still stood there laughing at her. She tried to reload the weapon, but before she could he was in front of her. No inbetween steps, no motion. He put his hand over her mouth and she tried to struggle, but she couldn't.....
____________________________________________________

Her eyes snapped open. There was only white.

It took her a few moments to regain her senses. She was in a bright white room. And someone had a hand over her mouth. Her eyes swivelled to see the man next to her. She had no idea who he was and had never seen him before. But she could feel from his hand that he had at least some cybernetic modifications. His obviously weren't quite so crude and obvious as her arm.

- We need to speak, but not here. If you want to leave, just say the word and I'll get you out of here. Otherwise, you will have to answer a lot of questions from the police.

She watched as he glanced at the door.

- You better decide soon. My guess is that someone is already on the way here.

Her mind was racing. She had no idea where she was, or how she got here. The last thing she remembered was the gunfight in the shuttle and then?...... Think, girl, think. Hospital! of course. They took her to a hospital which also means..... Asiraphel!!

She began to lift herself off the hospital bed, still dressed in a hospital gown. Her head swam as she sat upright and her body protested in pain. Her whole body seemed to ache. She must have lost a lot of blood and the wound in her shoulder felt like someone was stabbing something sharp into it. She was a little groggy from all the painkillers running through her thinned down blood. She opened her mouth and coughed a couple of times. Obviously there'd been some more bruising than she'd have guessed.

She realised the man in the room wasn't here to do her any harm. For one thing he had every opportunity to kill her while she slept. Secondly there were a couple of guards lying collapsed with slit throats. The blood was so bright against the white floor tiles. He stood patiently while she managed to get her body in order. She felt uncertain on her feet, but she managed to walk slowly. She was attached to a drip by a small tube in her elbow, which she pulled out and tossed aside.

She found her clothes on a pile in the corner of the room, washed and pressed. Unfortunately they'd taken her gun, and her knife. No doubt as evidence and to get a full forensic examination done on it. At the very least they could pull up manslaughter charges based on the gunpowder residue found on the bodies of the innocents that had been shot. She wasn't certain, but she was pretty sure she must have killed at least one in the confusion.

She crammed her belongings into a small rucksack she found in a cupboard, and slung it over her shoulders. The floor was cold on her bare feet, but she managed to regain some of her former composure. With any look the excercise would help get some of the drugs out of her system.

She turned to look at the man by the bed. Her eyes were sunken and she looked even more pale than usual, and quite ill.

"I don't know who you are, and for the moment i'm not that bothered. If you can get me out of this place then i'll have time to ask that later. But before we leave you're taking me to where they keep the bodies for autopsy in this place. There's something i gotta check. Do that, and i'll go wherever the hell you want me to go."

[Drawde]

The conversation with the emperor had been hours ago and its unpleasantness was still felt. Such conversations were always unpleasant, Alletnam hated that man, he hated anyone with more power than he. But that would not be the case with the emperor for much longer. Although this incident was sure to delay all of Alletnam's plans, especially if word got out about his past dealings with the dead man.

But why had Asiraphel come to Earth, what reason could he possibly have had. Why not just stay hidden up in the stations where he could do practically anything he wanted with little risk of legal intervention. That girl must have the answers that why he had to speak with her.
Mister Drawde's musings were brought to a sudden close when he was approached by the officer from that morning.
"Sir... one of the passengers from the shuttle is currently unaccounted for."
Fearing the worst Alletnam questioned. "Is it the girl?"
"No sir... It was one of the other injured passengers. A cyborg. He seems to have escaped from the hospital."
"Well see to it that he is found. This incident is already bad enough publicity for me, I don't need anyone making it worse."
"Yes sir." With a salute the officer was off.

Alletnam decided he could not risk the girl escaping, or perhaps even dying, no he would have to see her immediately. Waiting any longer would not do, to much of a risk. She was surely not yet conscious, but he was a psychic after all; she did not really need to be conscious
~~~~~~~~~
When he arrived at the hospital Mister Drawde, after a brief stop to learn the location of the patient headed straight off to see it. Swinging the door to her room open he was greeted with a disturbing sight. The guards that had been assigned to her were dead. How fortunate that he had decided not to wait. Looking over to the other side of the room, he found the girl, and another man.
"Well, what have we here?"
He slammed the door shut behind himself without touching it.

[Lilim_Savanant]

No sooner was she ready to go, when another stranger came through the door to the small room. His dress and style certainly showed him as someone of considerable power and influence. And the door swung shut behind him without so much as an ounce of effort. So, a psychic eh?

Her thoughts were confirmed when she felt the small tingling sensation in her brain. After the first incident with Asiraphel up in space, she had spent a good deal of time and money on making sure she was able to hunt him down and stop him, no matter what he might have in his arsenal. And so she had invested in a Psi-shield implant and memory engram. That had cost her almost half of her life's savings. And she had been a fairly busy mercenary. It was the sort of money you could buy a decent sized space craft with. But it had been worth it.

The Psi-shield had taken a few minutes to power up after her lapse into unconsciousness. But now it was detecting two psychic signatures. The first was this man in front of her, very powerful. The second was the first stranger who had been in the room when she woke. Not so strong, but still worth worrying about. But of course it wasn't her ability to pick up on psykers that was the main reason for the implant. The reason why it cost so much was because it contained a small null field emitter. Of the sort normally used to keep prying minds out of secret meetings. Her's wasn't nearly powerful enough to encompasse the entire room. But it did dampen and nullify all psychic activity within nine feet of her.

She was still a little weak from her ordeal, but she was also currently very angry and wasn't sure what was going on. Her body was pumping as much adrenaline as it could muster, and she was gonna use it while it lasted.

She lunged forward, took hold of the man in the suit by his collar and shoved him up against the wall hard. There was still enough strength in her to get his feet at least an inch off the ground. Her left arm was raised up ready to punch if he tried anything stupid. He'd been in for a hell of a shock if he tried to use his powers to subdue her. At this close range the feedback would give the same effect as a tazer to the skull. She may not have a weapon, but a mechanical forearm is a lot of metal, and she doubted it would be possible to hit someone with it and not break at least one bone. She pushed her face up to his, anger flared in her eyes and slight spittle gathered at the corners of her mouth as she spoke.

"I ain't in no mood for being nice. I want some answers now! Do you hear me? Now start by telling me, where the feth am i? Who the feth are you? And where the feth do they keep the damn bodies in this fething building?"She gave him a wicked little smile, the same smile a cat gives to a mouse just before it bites the head off. Her small fangs were protruding from her grin. "And before you try anything funny i warn you it wont be pleasant. Because first you'll get a shock, and second, i'll kick your teeth through the back of your fething face!!"

[Tybalt]

"I don't know who you are, and for the moment i'm not that bothered. If you can get me out of this place then i'll have time to ask that later. But before we leave you're taking me to where they keep the bodies for autopsy in this place. There's something i gotta check. Do that, and i'll go wherever the hell you want me to go."

Tybalt was just about to answer her when the door opened. A wealthy man, a psychic obviously, walked in, slamming the door behind him. The woman acted first, slamming he intruder against the wall demanding answers. Tybalt was just a second after her, and hit the man hard in the head with a stun baton.

- Let me answer your questions instead.

He searched the unconcious mans pockets while speaking, finding a wallet.

- You are on the security floor in the fething City Hospital in the fething 23rd sector of Carrie. This mans ID says he's fething Alletnam Drawde. I think that's the guy who owns Carrie. And, according to my palm computer, they keep the fething dead on the floors -3 to -5. That's underground. Now we better get our fething asses the feth out from here before any more people arrives. OK? I'll get you to the dead as soon as possible, but right now we have to make sure that we not get carried down there.

- And mind your language will ya? Anyone using the word feth on earth will be identified as coming from the Stations.

He picked her up in one arm and, after ataching one end of the wire to the wall, jumped out through the closed window, back first. he wire slowed down their fall, but still he hit the ground at a speed high enough to break an ordinary mans legs. He heard how the breath was knocked from the womans lungs. Tybalt stumbled and fell, but got up again, apologising for the rough ride. Then he was running towards the waiting ambulance and jumped in through the open rear doors, still carrying her.

- Move it! We will probably have an assfull of cops after us soon if we don't get away.

The fake ambulance was soon several blocks away from the hospital. Tybalt turned to the woman, handing her one of the stun batons.

- Sorry 'bout that. You OK?

(OOC: Sorry 'bout that. Had to speed things up a bit. Not enough comp time to finish as I had planned.)

[Drawde]

Alletnam was an adept psychic, he had been honing his abilities for over one hundred years, he knew ways to get around that silly toy in the girl's head. But those methods involved altering the frequency of his own brain waves and that took a little bit of time. Unfortunatly time he did not have, for that matter he didn't even have the time to answer he questions, before he could the person whom had apparently come to help her escape was answering them for him. And then with little noticed he grabbed hold of her, and lept out the window. As she was pulled away Alletnam was finnally let back down to the ground. He hurried over to the window, looking down after the two fleeing cyborgs, quite disapointed to see that they had not splattered on the pavement, and were making a getaway. Of course they would not get far. You couldn't escape Alletnam Drawde, not in his city.

He took a brief moment to smooth out his suit, which had been ruffled by the rough girl, and then he marched out into the hall, where was security when you need them. Reaching the nearest nurses station he reached over the counter and grabbed up the phone. They realized instantly who he was and made no attempt to stop him. The call was to his own tower, to his personal security force, whom really have even more authority and the Cazzie police.
"I want a thirty mile radius around the hospital cutoff... no one is to get out. You have authority to stun those who even mildly resit. And make sure to pass this message on."
The last to parts of his message had hidden meaning, by stun resistors he meant kill, and by pass it on he meant to the underground... the criminal element of the city, to whom Alletnam still held a great deal of control.
Once off the phone he turned to the nurses, "I want the body of the second gunner in the shoot out moved to the labs at my tower. And a police escort is to go with it. Understood?"
The nurses nodded and sent an orderly off to have it done. The girl had asked about where the bodies were, sure that was the body she was looking for, and he would not let her have it.

[Lilim_Savanant]

The room underground was refrigerated to keep the bodies in suitably fresh conditions. Every surface had a thin layer of frost covering it, where small water particles in the air had been given time to settle and cool. Normally the room was locked, and orderlies were sent in wearing suits to keep the room sterile, not to mention protect them from the cold.

Of course, normally doesn't mean always.

Cold air was seeping through the open door, leaving a cool mist to filter into the corridors outside. The locking mechanism had been torn open and the door apparently twisted apart and left hanging at the hinges. The lights were broken, but the small amount of light that entered into the room from the corridor showed the frozen pool of blood on the floor that had formed a sheet of red. The orderlies body was was torn open and left mutilated. Its head was somewhere across the other side of the room and one arm had been broken at the wrist, with the splintered bone end then jabbed through the man's own stomach.

The body had been laying there at least a good half an hour. Whatever had done this had long since left.

And inside, one of the freezer draws hung open, empty. There was a note pinned to the draw.

--IDENTITY = ASIRAPHEL -- LOCATION OF DEATH = TRANSIT SHUTTLE 3 --

[Lilim_Savanant]

- Sorry 'bout that. You OK?

The first response he got was a slap around the face by her cybernetic left hand. The second he got was her pointing the stun baton straight at him. She stood there, glowing and energised with a fury that harkened back to the term 'A woman scorned'. She was still only dressed in her hopsital gown, but the sight was imposing none the less. Her white skin had slight bruising both from her fight on the shuttle and her being dragged out of the hospital window. She wasn't happy. Her normally blood red eyes took on a much more hostile hue. There was a glow there, like that from molten metal.

"You fething gak-head!!! You dare handle me like that again and i'm gonna show you just how fething painful i can make your life with just this little stun baton! And i assure you, i've got a very vivid imagination."

She leaned her face down close to his, supporting herself against the side of the ambulance with one hand, and putting her mouth close to her ear.

"You just blew my one chance to get down to that basement. I could have rushed down their quick and done my business before the cops and security arrived to grab me. But thanks to your stupid stunt there's not a fething chance in hell we can get in there unnoticed now. That place will be crawling with the cops. I warn you, next time you have one of your 'bright' ideas, you tell me first, or the next time you mess up my plans i'm not gonna be so kind."

She sat back down and kept her distance from him. She'd calmed down a little, but there was still a furious anger burning there. She removed the bag with her clothes from her back and opened it up on her lap. She gave him another quick and vicious glance, showing her fangs partially.

"First, you're gonna turn round, so i can get dressed. i'm not gonna have you gawp at me. Second, you're gonna tell me who the feth you are? Why you came after me? And what you're planning on doing with me now?"

[Tybalt]

Tybalt backed away from the angry woman with the stun baton, shocked at the outburst, his head ringing from the slap. He turned around to let her dress.

- You really think you could have rushed down to the basement from the bloody security floor? I must have judged you wrong, I thought you were pretty sane.

He shook his head.

- My name is not important. And I don't want to know yours. You can call me...

He thought for a second, and then let out a short laugh.

- Romeo. Call me Romeo. I'm a killer. I kill people for money. I came to you partly cause I was curious about the man you killed. He was different, and he disturbed me. He...

- But the main reason that I came to you was that I needed help. I've been asked to kill a man, a powerfull man, and I will be well payed for doing it. But I have no chance of succeding, and my chances of survival is small. Very small.

- My employers know this. I have not been given the job of killing the man, but to die myself.

- I want you to save my life.

- But first we have to change our faces and get into the hospital basement.

The ambulance slowed down and the doors opened.

- I hope you are finished dressing, cause this is where we get off.

[Drawde]

Drawde had made his way to the morge in the basement of the hospital. He still expeced the two escapies to make their way there, for they certainly didn't know that the body had been removed, and he still wanted to deal with them himself. Of course he was not alone. Many of his most elite security officers were lurking about, hidden throught the morgue. And of course a number of his aides were there also, just because he had some wild cards to deal with didn't mean he could stop working. There were all dressed as hospital employies to avoid arising suspicion. One of them handed Alletnam a folder full of reports from the interogations of the passangers on the transport shuttle. Quickly leafing through the pages he came across two names he recognised. Gil Crantz, and more importantly his twin brother Ross.

Asiraphel was not the only person the wealthy business man had contracted to experiment with creating powerful soldiers for him. Some of the many others were professors at the university on Star Sentinal. Their research involved implanting computers in the minds of humans to creat great spys and hackers as well as emotionless assassins. Of course they were a bit more proffessional about it than Asiraphel their experiments were more well much more careful. Thus far there was only one test prototype, and that was Mister Ross Crantz. Or course he didn't know thats what he was. But what was he doing on earth now?
"These two men? Are they still in custody?"
The aide shook his head. "No sir, neither of them had any information about the incident so they were released."

[JoJo the Magic Sheep]

Far from the action, Laszlo had managed to avoid going straight home. Sylvia was watching television in the living room when he finally got there. She took a heavy swig of the beer she held in her hand, belched, and called out sarcastically, "How was your day, dear?"
"Go to hell."
She listened to him sit down at the kitchen table, but didn't look at him or say anything right away. She was in a particularly evil mood tonight, and wanted him to feel safe before she brought him down. Unfortunately, he spoke before she really felt a chance to lay in on him.
"Did you manage to get a job today?"
"Nope."
"And how much has my head gone up in your estimations?"
"According to my last appraisal, $250."
"Cheap."
"I know."
"But still fairly expensive if you don’t have a job."
"I'll manage."
Sylvia returned to her television program. It was the news. She snickered when the story came up about the crazy lady who'd gone beserk on a spaceplane.
"Hey, Lazzy, you seen this one? I'll bet your boss shit his pants!" she called, not expecting an answer.
Laszlo, meanwhile, had helped himself to a beer of his own. He sat back down with it at the table, but even after he'd opened it, he couldn't bring himself to drink it. He just sat staring at it, sick, miserable, and fatigued. He looked over at his wife.
Oh, how easy it would be to just do it. To just come up behind her with his belt in his hands and strangle her. No one would notice. Except maybe her grandmother. But Laszlo had wanted to kill that old bitch way before the marriage had gone wrong. Stupid old hag.
But he couldn't kill his wife. Not by himself. Maybe, deep down, he still loved her or something, but every time he thought about it, every time he got up to take a piss in the middle of the night and hovered over her while she slept, and thought about just putting his hands around her neck, he would stop, sigh, and go back to sleep. The physical act was just too painful for him. And he was certain she felt the same way, otherwise he'd have been dead long ago.
That and the fact that she didn't have any money. He really, really wished she'd get a job. After all, they still lived in the same apartment and they still had bills to pay together, like it or not, and it was only fair that she contribute. But it didn't look like she was going to. Every spare penny that came her way probably went to the "Shoot My Husband While He Sleeps" fund. He sighed.
"Hey, Sylv?"
"What?"
"I thought about leaving you today."
"And why didn't you?"
"Because I'd still have to come home and get my stuff. Plus you'd keep the house. But maybe if you got a job, I wouldn't worry about coming home and finding you here and I'd leave you."
She groaned. "Lay off, will you? Besides, it'd be much more fun to kill you."
"I'm sure it would."
"Hey, honey?"
"Yeah?"
"How many ways do you think there are to poison someone?"
Laszlo looked down at his untouched beer, pushing it aside.
"I have no idea."

[JoJo the Magic Sheep]

"Why was I not informed of this sooner?" Simone shouted, running half-dressed through the corridors of the Representative's suite on CQ Fleet 9. Her skin was fading to green, then blue, and finally settling on a deep purple, giving her a look that was both fierce and slightly gruesome. Two aides ran at her sides.
"It just happened, Ms. Montreau," said one of them. "He just showed up. We notified you the second we knew."
"Earrings," she demanded, and the aide gave them to her. She hurriedly put them on. "How does my hair look?"
"Fine," said the second aide. "But, your skin..."
She stared hard at this aide, slicing him in half with her eyes. "I don't think anyone with a third eye needs to go on about my skin," she snapped.
"It's not that. You just... look angry. You can tell."
They had reached the door to her formal office. "Point taken," she said quietly, and took a few deep breaths, trying to fade back to something resembling a peachy hue. "How's this?" she asked.
"Better."
She nodded and shooed them away, making sure everything was buttoned and tucked before opening the door in front of her. "Chief Ambassador Schmidt! What a delightful surprise!"
The large, spectacled man rose to greet her. "Head Representative Montreau. I hope I am not interrupting anything..."
"Goodness no! Please, sit. I hope your trip was enjoyable?"
He sank back into his chair as she found hers behind her desk. It was polite to ask about his journey, but she really didn't need to, knowing it had been a long and exhausting travel from Losan to Cazzie, and that still without boarding a spacecraft. It was not such a long journey anymore, but it was still a taxing one.
"Yes, it was... tolerable," he replied. He took out a handkerchief and blotted his forehead. "At least, better than some of Cazzie's other recent flights."
The corners of his mouth curved upward into a smile. This was what he had come to tell her.
"What happened?"
He filled her in, giving her all the details he knew.
"Fascinating. I'm sure Alletnam's trying to keep it as hush-hush as possible."
"Oh, doubtless. Rumors in the court were that that man was on his payroll."
"Not surprising. But Erich, if I may ask, have you come all the way to Fleet 9 to give me gossip?"
A faint green tint crossed across her cheeks momentarily and was gone. Schmidt laughed nervously.
"Of course not," he replied. "But it is important to what I have to say."
Simone leaned back in her chair. "I'm all ears."
"As you know, Losan has no space port..."
"Yes, I'm aware."
"Cazzie's always held a very strong monopoly. Few other ports could compete. None in Losan."
She nodded. "Still following, but not seeing the connection."
"It's coming, if you will let me continue."
"Yes, sorry."
He took a deep breath before continuing. He was starting to sweat. "Well, Governor Thessaly wishes to build one. And here I wish to continue without interruption, though I'm sure there are many things you will want to ask. Anyway, we in Losan feel the time is right to finally begin our own competitive market in the space industry. There has been a slight disturbance in Cazzie. It may grow, it may not, but there are other factors in our favor, such as our own improving economic status and air transport system. We also feel that there is a strong future for CQ Fleet 9, and we wish to, with your cooperation, expand it to suit the needs of a space hub, a sort of jumping point for our spacecraft to go before going to other stations. We are hoping that you will agree with us on this issue."
He paused, letting her know that she could comment on this proposition. She had her fingers laced together in front of her, elbows on the table. "You're being very brief, Ambassador," she said bluntly. "I understand that you wish to build a spaceport, and that you want my station's cooperation in the building of a hub. But there's another part of this plan you're neglecting to tell me. What is it?"
"I don't believe it's really relevant at this time..."
"Before this conversation continues, you will tell me."
Her gaze was worse than the one she'd used on her aide earlier. He felt it, and began to sweat so profusely he had to wipe it away from his eyes with his ever-ready handkerchief.
"Fine, fine. I can't get anything past you, Simone, eh?" He laughed nervously. She waited. "This was part of the plan we were hoping to have your cooperation on, too. If it is possible, we were... wishing for you to spy on Drawde. Pretend to be on a simple friendly visit, but see how he's handling the spaceship incident. See what kind of security he has around him. And, if possible... kill him."
Simone immediately laughed. "You're expecting me to try and kill a psychic? I mean, spy on is one thing and that's still bad enough, but to kill a psychic? And of all psychics, Alletnam Drawde? What kind of an idiot do you take me for?"
"Please consider it," the Ambassador urged her. "It would be beneficial to your station."
She raised an eyebrow. "Would you give me whatever materials I needed, no obligations?"
"Yes. Whatever you needed."
"I want that in writing. As well as the agreement that whatever hub you build will be here, on Fleet 9."
"Consider it done."
"Good. Give me twelve hours to think about it. In the meantime, get a good night's sleep. I'll have someone show you to your room."