Return of Vechkov Prague


 * Cockpit 


 * This small cockpit is rather cramped, with most of its exposed surfaces dominated by both a panoramic window and a vast control console. The former wraps around the forward wall of the cockpit, providing a spectacular view of the small vessel's surroundings. The single navigation station rests before this window, its surface covered by numerous controls and displays. A single exit aft leads into the passenger compartment.

Vechkov limps in, a crinkled cigarette tucked between two pudgy fingers. "Anyone got a light?"

Jaxx, napping in a chair, is blissfully unaware of this.

N'Sha-El is, at present, busy programming a circuitry chip. She glances up, startled. And then her jaw just /drops/. She rises half to her feet, face draining of its color. "V...Vech?" she whispers, her voice a gasp. She clutches at Jaxx's shoulder. Hard.

Vechkov glances back over his shoulder, then turns his beady eyes back toward Sha, smiling with the wrinkles around his eyes. "You were expecting maybe the Good Humor man?"

Jaxx, jostled, snorts, eyes flickering open. He peers at Vech myopically. "I'm dreaming. You're dead."

Vechkov shrugs, tucking the bent cigarette into the corner of his fish-like mouth. "Guess I was, yeah."

Any semblance of logic is beyond Sha at this point. "Or I'm in the same dream....You...." Words fail her as her knees suddenly buckle and she collapses to the floor.

Jaxx's brow knits. "Was?"

Vechkov huffs a laugh. "He might be a flamer, but damn, that Vamp is one resourceful cat."

N'Sha-El just sits on the floor, staring up at Vechkov with huge eyes. "Vampire...?" She swallows.

Jaxx blinks, just once. "You faked your death..." A moment later, "But I tortured Bishop because of you!"

Vechkov nods. "Good. The sonuvabitch needed it."

N'Sha-El nods mutely. "I'm not dead yet am I?" she finally forces from her dead throat huskily. "It's...oh gods, it's really /you/?"

Jaxx frowns, "You know, I've gone through a lot of trouble trying to avenge your demise, and you're not even doing /me/ the favor of actually being dead.

Vechkov takes his fedora off, runs his beefy hand through his unruly hair, then puts the fedora back on. "Yeah, it's me. Vamp went with me on the trip to see Bishop. The bastard *did* try to kill me. But it was the medication Vamp slipped me that made it look good."

N'Sha-El pushes herself up from the floor slowly. She touches Jaxx's wrist as delicately as a fawn sipping water, her slender fingers trembling. "Shhh love...oh gods VECH dammit!" And she suddenly makes a dive towards the large man to hug him ruthlessly.

Vechkov struggles in vain to keep the cigarette from plummeting out of his mouth. It bounces off Sha's shoulder and lands on the deck.

A sudden ferocious MEWL sounds from the door and a black blur streaks in, stopping just shy of Vechkov and hissing, tail swishing from side to side.

Jaxx says, with lifted brows. "I thought that wound looked awfully small to have caused the demise of as hardy a man as you. Fortunate that I left your corpse on the tarmac, isn't it? I debated taking it with me.

N'Sha-El ignores the cigarette. "You still smoke those damn smellin'...oh gods...Love, where's his lighter?" Words tumble from her and if there are happy tears welling in her eyes, she doesn't seem to notice. "So that's what Vampire was talkin' bout the bastard...."

Vechkov nods. "Well...yeah, it's a good thing you left my fat carcass so Vampire could slip me the antidote and stick me off on Ungstir Prime to...recover."

The black cat - yep it's a cat - arches its back and hisses, then makes a swipe at Vechkov's leg, claws out. It's evidently trying to be attack kitty of the Black Widow.

Vechkov glances down at the cat. "You've gotten bigger. But not that big."

Jaxx drums his fingers on his leg. "You could, you're aware, have told me. You would have saved me a great deal of trouble, my friend."

N'Sha-El lets go of Vechkov, bends down and scoops the cat up in her arms. "Be good ggGenghis," she remonstrates, smoothing the annoyed feline's ruff of fur and moving to stand by Jaxx. "You're not cross are you love...?"

Vechkov arches his bushy eyebrows. "Would I? Might have saved Graeber Brenhault from a world of hurt too. I'm glad the sonuvabitch got what he deserved. If I had poked my head up, he woulda finished me. You did a fine job bringin' that monster down."

Genghis mewls and attempts to struggle, but actually settles after a few pettings.

Jaxx drums his fingers. "Perhaps. I had reason enough to injure Brenhault. I was simply angrier.

N'Sha-El smiles a bit wryly, the color coming back to her cheeks now. "I don't regretbein' mean to the bastard. Wish I'd finished him but hell, Jet got him so. I want Fagin."

Vechkov nods. "And I couldn't risk revealing my...condition...until Brenhault was dead. He's dead. End of story."

Jaxx says, "Fagin, however, is still quite alive. You are not concerned? You had much to do with the revelation of his true identity."

Vechkov smirks, smiling with the wrinkles around his eyes. "Jaxx, Jaxx...don't you smell that bastard's blood on the wind? He's a wounded beast. He's in so deep, his position is so precarious...it's not gonna take much more than a push, and he's gone."

N'Sha-El's eyes darken. "He's caused enough trouble," she says abruptly. "Now I have to win my sister's loyalty back from one of his damn henchmen. God knows what the hell that's gonna do to Teel and my nerves in the long run but I'll deal."

Jaxx nods a bit. "Yes...He's going through Guildmasters at a rather impressive rate.

Vechkov shrugs. "It's about time to put that old boy out of his misery."

N'Sha-El tilts her chin. "I want to do that," she purrs and there's a rather ominous look of devilry in her expression. "This is /my/ payback. For Cap'n Van."

Jaxx folds his arms before him. "Do you have a proposal?"

Vechkov smiles with the wrinkles around his eyes. "I think, before long, lots of voices will be callin' for that bastard's head. You know he's in collusion with the Demarian Senate, right?"

Jaxx nods a bit. "I'd considered the possibility. Then again, I'd considered that he might be allied with Morningstar as well...

N'Sha-El blinks, startled. "He's...what?" she says blankly. "What the hell does...Oh...Oh...OH." She looks suddenly stunned. "Oh gods. I'd even suggested that."

Vechkov shakes his head. "No. Morningstar pissed the old boy off by giving amnesty to Valor."

Genghis, now calmed down from his initial fighting frenzy, leans out of Sha's arms to sniff at the newcomer cautiously. His tail switches slowly from side to side, just the tip of it.

Jaxx nods a bit. "But, for a time, they were allied, I believe. I'm curious how much Fagin has to do with the Mekke, Acran's, suggestion that the Nalls are about to attack Demaria..Something I find likely just now...Yet Acran has more than enough reasons of his own to want the Nalls destroyed.

N'Sha-El tilts her head a little, one hand reaching to lay on Jaxx's shoulder. He wanted me to drum up support for Demaria." A snort. "Bloody arrogant bastard. But more importantly Vech. I need to know just how far in Yama Nels is." Her expression grows a bit bleak. "My lil' sis is gonna marry him."

Vechkov shakes his head. "Dead wrong, old boy. Morningstar never had an allegiance with that bastard. Consider, for a moment...soon after Morningstar granted asylum to Valor, Brenhault escaped from a Demarian prison. And not long after that, Morningstar vanished. And before long, the Senate resumed power. Yes?"

Genghis scrambles out of Sha's arms and bounds gracefully to the floor. He stretches, yawns, pink tongue lolling out. His teeth make a bit of a 'snick' as his jaws snap together, then he saunters over to Vechkov and sniffs at his shoes.

N'Sha-El stares at Vechkov. "You're sayin' Mutt Head /sprang/ Bishop just because of the Demarian Senate? Somethin's not right here, Vech...what was in it for him?"

Jaxx says, "Morningstar is asleep in our bunk module. I suspect that is a surprise to you."

Vechkov widens his eyes slightly at the news from Jaxx. "That *is* a surprise. Where'd you find him?"

Jaxx says, "An uncharted planet about 11 million hecameters from here."

Vechkov nods. "Did it look like he was there on purpose?"

Jaxx says, "Not particularly. His ship was nicely shattered."

N'Sha-El growls. "He was playin' God to this poor bunch of fool Castori. I've promised to slit his throat too."

Vechkov arches his eyebrows. "So, he crashed and got his brains scrambled? Convenient for Fagin."

Genghis saunters around Vechkov, tail in the air as he sniffs at him thoroughly, whiskers and nose twitching.

Jaxx says, "Quite convenient. His temper is intact, as is his pompousity."

Jaxx says, "He's fortunate that I considered him useful. I was tempted to space him when he threatened my wife's life..."

Vechkov nods. "As for what the old bastard might gain...well, control is very important to him. As is access. Now, by springing Brenhault, Fagin freed a useful tool. A volatile weapon. He also embarrassed Dawnfur Morningstar's administration, and made it possible for the Senate to rise to power. The Senate, well, they used Morningstar's apparent incompetence, his absence and the perceived threat from the Nalls to seize power, yes?"

N'Sha-El snorts as she squeezes Jaxx's shoulder gently. "I wouldn't be surprised if his damn brains weren't scrambled at all Vech. He may just be playin' at bein' Head Honcho." She digests the resultant information carefully. "Who succeeds him if Mutt Head is off'd?" she says abruptly.

Vechkov hrms. "Who succeeds Fagin? Grim, I suppose. But, honestly, I think you need to blast the whole cottillion."

N'Sha-El lifts her lip in a rather unpleasant devilish grin. "Oh that's the plan. Grim owes me. For takin' Jet. And Lady Macbeth." Her eyes gleam. "She's out fer blood. His." She reaches her other hand to brush at a strand of hair on her forehead. "I'm just wonderin' if someone else is gonna try to fill his shoes if he goes. Can't let /that/ happen."

Vechkov chuckles. "Oh, where people will follow, madmen will lead - been that way for centuries."

Genghis mews loudly and insistently, having completed his investigation of Vech and found him satisfactory. He bats at the man's leg.

Vechkov grimaces down at the black creature.

MEWL. Purrr. MEEEW.

Vechkov scratches the hairy back of his neck and grunts, "Left my slugthrower in my other trenchcoat."

N'Sha-El chuckles. "He wants t'be scritched the damn lil' bugger." She tugs the tie of her braid loose, shaking out her thick mane. "We'll be able to get you one I'm sure. Oh love don't go to sleep again!" she protests gently, leaning over to kiss Jaxx's forehead. "But Vech seriously. What do you know about Yama Nels and this whole damn Fagin mess. If you know anythin' at all."

Vechkov shrugs. "I dunno. But I know the name. Didn't Nels work for Morningstar?"

N'Sha-El nods, rather grimly. "Yeh. The thing is, Nels seems to be in cahoots with Fagin to do somethin' in price for his damn freedom. I don't know /what/ it is, but he's gonna be my bro-in-law and if he ain't innocent, he AIN'T gonna be."

Vechkov smiles with the wrinkles around his eyes. "Could be he's all the way across the quadrant from innocent. I notice he made it out of Demaria alive when the Senate took over."

Vechkov smiles with the wrinkles around his eyes. "Could be he's all the way across the quadrant from innocent. I notice he made it out of Demaria alive when the Senate took over."

N'Sha-El wrinkles her nose, sighing a little. "If he ain't, it'll break Teel's heart Vech and /she'll/ kill him. She's promised. We gotta hunt him down and shove the holodisplay at him. Seems Jet got clonked by Hernandez with some sort of drug and she hauled him off into Fagin land and he got this damn holodisplay thing showing Nels. IF Jet don't prove Yama's in cahoots with Fagin, my sis gets off'd."

Vechkov wiggles his brows. "Whoa...who the hell is Jet and Hernandez...and which sis gets off'd and why?"

N'Sha-El's expression turns a trifle stony. "Jet's LeBeau. Got used t'callin' him Jet. Hernandez is that Connie General type who resigned coz of the DC thang."

Vechkov ahs. "She's Ungstiri, right? Damn. She's workin' for Fagin now? That'll have the Vannies gunnin' for him big time."

N'Sha-El wrinkles her nose. "I think she's Ungie, least Teel said so. Jest's now in the Smuggler's Guild all over again." A sigh as she glances down at Jaxx. "Yer awake hun?" she murmurs, smiling a little.

Vechkov furrows his brow. "She is?"

Genghis, ignored, strolls off down the corridor looking distinctly pouty, if a cat can look pouty.

N'Sha-El nods rather reluctantly. "Yeh. There's a long story behind that."

Vechkov chuckles softly. "Heh. Well, I've got a pretty funny one to go along with it. You go first."

N'Sha-El quirks a bit of a grin as Jaxx, apparently in the throes of nappish time, remains deadish to the world. Or maybe he's just in a Mystic trance. "Well. You know Fagin off'd the Courser and Cap'n Van right?"

Vechkov nods. "I heard."

N'Sha-El nods. "Bastard used me as bait, damn him. I owe him for that. I saw it all happen." Her expression is neutral. "Anyways. Teel an' Jest didn't take none of it well t'all. Teel managed ok after Jaxx talked to her a bit. Jest...well now Jest was a diff'rent matter." Another sigh. "She started gettin' edgy, unsocial, all the bad stuff she used to be when we worked the Kali years ago. An' then she an' Jaxx had a falling out. So one day she just up and told me she was leavin' with Falk."

Vechkov settles into a chair, rumpling through his coat pocket for a cellophane wrapped pack of cigs.

N'Sha-El continues, getting moodier by the minute. "So she's with Falk. Ain't seen hide nor hair of her since then. Well not true. Had one run in with her." There's some hesitancy in her manner now as if she's not quite disclosing everything.

Vechkov nods, tapping a bent cigarette from the pack, then shoving the pack back into his coat. "Go on."

N'Sha-El sighs. "Jaxx thinks she's in love with Falk so she ain't gonna leave even if I tell her to."

Vechkov frowns. "That does complicate things, indeed."

N'Sha-El snorts. "Yer tellin' me Vech." She hesitates for a while, then says quietly, "This ain't general information Vech, so please keep it to yerself coz it's a life at stake. She went there t'try and get Fagin. Was a bad, bad idea from the start but I couldn't stop her."

Vechkov nods. "Definitely a bad idea. She's in the lion's den."

N'Sha-El traces patterns restlessly with one hand on the back of the apparently comatose Jaxx's chair. "I know. Fagin's holdin' her over Jet an' me an' anyone who's gonna take a shot at him. If she's in love with Falk and I hope to God she ain't...well. You see where I am."

Vechkov quirks his mouth. "I assume you heard her boyfriend took a slug, right?"

N'Sha-El gives a short bark of mirthless laughter. "Hell yeh, first thing Vampire mentioned after the prelims. Is why I think she ain't gonna leave now for sure."

Vechkov grimaces. "Damn."

N'Sha-El's lips twist wryly. "Damn is right. We're all bloody damned at this point. I'm gonna send her a mess, hope she gets wised up and /leaves/." A pause, she's clearly ruminating and unhappy at this point. "Vamp suggested, we get Falk out too. Gods I /hate/ that."

Vechkov leans back in the chair, sighing, tucking the unlit cigarette between his lips. "Damn, damn, damn."

N'Sha-El leans on the back of the chair and exhales. "So that's the sitch. An' now Teel's boyfriend's gotten tangled up with the Prof dyin' so it would seem like. Somehow."

Vechkov removes his fedora, sets it in his lap, and then puts a palm to his forehead as he drops his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I shot Falkenberg."

N'Sha-El's jaw drops as she /stares/ at Vechkov. It's a moment before she manages in a croak, "/You/ shot Falk?"

Vechkov brings his dark eyes back down to regard Sha, capping the fedora back on his head. "Yeah, well, I didn't know your sis was involved with him. It was a job, okay? A chance to take a slam at Fagin too. Sheesh..."

N'Sha-El begins to laugh weakly. "Oh gods, I thought Vampire shot him..." Her shoulders shake and after a while, a close look at her face shows that she's crying too, very softly. "S'ok...you weren't to know. I'da done it myself if only it weren't fer her..."

Vechkov shrugs. "Maybe I should tell her, huh?"

N'Sha-El shakes her head. "Don't Vech, you don't have to...but you said a job. Who'd you do it for?" She dashes a hand across her face, drawing a deep breath to steady herself.

Vechkov chuckles faintly. "The family of John Christian Falkenberg's late fiance."

N'Sha-El can't help it. She /stares/. "Late...fiance...? Vech. He killed her??"

Vechkov shrugs. "Sort of. He drove her to commit suicide."

N'Sha-El's eyes harden. "Tell me more."

Vechkov frowns. "I'm not prepared to reveal too much about my clients. So, no names. That's part of the bargain."

N'Sha-El nods grimly. "I work the same business, Vech. I'm a hacker, remember?"

Vechkov nods. "All right. Here's the deal: Falkenberg romanced a little rich girl on Ungstir Prime. Promised to take her away from all that - the usual line. She got her hopes all wrapped up in him. One day, he just dashed, never came back. She took a dive. The parents hired me to get revenge."

N'Sha-El's jaw tightens. "That bastard. And he's romancin' my /sister/?" A very unladylike snarl curls her lip. "Oh if only I'd known..."

Vechkov shrugs. "Well, now you know. Now *she* can know."

N'Sha-El lifts a hand to her forehead. "Yeh but if I tell her she'll think I'm diggin' dirt just to spite. I can't tell her, Vech."

Vechkov nods. "Then I will." He gets to his feet.

N'Sha-El closes her eyes wearily. "I'm so sorry Vech...I wish you didn't have to do it but I don't see any other way."

Vechkov shrugs. "You mind flyin' me?"

N'Sha-El's lips quirk. "Hell no. Just gimme a mo to send off a mess to my boy."

Vechkov chuckles and nods. "All right. I need some sleep. Wake me when we get there, yeah?"

After some much-needed rest, Vechkov awakens to face the music...


 * Corridor 


 * A short corridor, all business-like steel and titanium alloy, leads into the interior of the ship. The entrance hatchway is flanked by a hand-print scanner and black keypad, as are the doors leading to port and starboard. Towards aft, the passageway continues on.

Vechkov emerges from the living quarters, appearing rather groggy and rumpled - in other words, fairly normal. A cigarette, unlit, dangles from his mouth.

N'Sha-El is engaged, currently, in trying to open a large can. She has her back to the wall, her braid in her mouth and one foot braced against the bulkhead, muttering.

Vechkov grunts, "We there yet?"

N'Sha-El, startled, turns too quickly. The can flies out of her hand and sails towards Vechkov. "Wha-...oh Vech, dammit! Quit scarin' me!" she growls. "Yeh we been here about 2 hours but hell man, you never told me you're so hard to wake up."

N'Sha-El, startled, turns too quickly. The can flies out of her hand and sails towards Vechkov. "Wha-...oh Vech, dammit! Quit scarin' me!" she growls. "Yeh we been here about 2 hours but hell man, you never told me you're so hard to wake up."

Vechkov chuckles, smiling with the wrinkles around his eyes. "Yeh, I sleep like the dead."

N'Sha-El snorts as she goes to retrieve the can which is now rolling around the floor. "Uh-huh. Damn straight. Lil' sis went in and yelled, "Vechkov Prague! You're going to be late for SCHOOL! WAKE UP!" an' you just snored to hell.

Vechkov nods absently, glancing toward the hatch. "So, we're there?"

N'Sha-El nods as she retrieves the can and glares at it, shrugging and hanging on to it in the end. "Yeh. Wanna go?"

Vechkov nods. "Alone. She should be at the hospital."

N'Sha-El mmms. "Yeh...want me to run shotgun an' wait outside, case there's trouble? You ain't gotta blaster."

Vechkov smirks. "Yeh, fine. But don't follow. Let me handle this."

N'Sha-El snorts. "You get t'handle this damn thing nicely, Vech. Me I'm just gonna act pretty and sit still...wait up. Lemme get a coat or somethin' so I ain't so damn noticeable." She trots off into the living quarters, returning some moments later minus the can, with the addition of a long black duster shrugged onto her shoulders and a black fedora-style hat jammed onto her head. Her hair, noticeably, has been bundled into the hat.

Vechkov nods curtly, his double chins jiggling. "Kay, let's go."

You disembark to the surface.


 * Landing Platform 


 * Clouds of steam hiss from vents along the edges of this broad gunmetal gray platform beneath a violet sky dotted with stars and gleaming with five moons of varying sizes. Some unsavory folks conduct their bleak business in the shadows, while others haggle with pilots over fares and freight charges. Mechanics clad in the silver-chased royal blue jumpsuits of the pirate king's technical squad wander from ship-to-ship, checking fuel levels and rad-ratings.

N'Sha-El exits from the Black Widow.

Vechkov glances over at a pair of excitable looking Elite Guard types standing near the decon corridor, armed with rifles.

Vechkov turns his dark eyes back to Sha. "Watch yourself."

N'Sha-El lurks out of the Widow, the steam flapping her coat apart. She jams her hands into her pockets, pulling the hat down low so the brim shades her face. She grunts in acknowledgement.

Vechkov walks toward the decon corridor, tugging down on the brim of his fedora and grunting a greeting at the soldiers, who seem utterly disinterested in the investigator.

He wanders to Medical Specialties, where Falkenberg remains in a coma, kept alive by machines, but Jest'liana is no longer at his bedside. Vechkov then wanders back to the spaceport...


 * Spaceport Atrium 


 * The spicy scent of possibly narcotic smoke wafts through the thick air of the Freewheeling Spaceport. The lobby sprawls beneath an elegant construct of glass and steel that has been twisted at seemingly impossible angles to reflect and refract dancing lights among the shadows. A gleaming blue neon sign above a nearby archway reads: THE MOTHERLODE. Beyond another archway, you can see a bustling casino. Double doors hiss open frequently, letting in the untamed sounds of the streets of Freewheeling.

Vechkov walks back in, knitting his abundant eyebrows at Sha. "The *other* don't follow me."

N'Sha-El coughs, shoving the back of her hand to her mouth at a fresh wafting of drug-spiced smoke. "Eh?" Grunt.

Vechkov decides to give up arguing, shifting his own unlit cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other. "She ain't there. Falkenberg's good-for-nothing body is. She ain't. Doc says she lit outta here today like a bat aflame, on a shuttle to Demaria."

N'Sha-El shoves part of the hat brim from her eyes, startled. "What the hell spooked her?" she growls, mindful to keep her voice semi-masculine.

Vechkov jerks a thumb toward the decon corridor. "Fagin's thugs, I wager."

N'Sha-El shifts her eyes in the gestured direction. "Bloody hell. Well. Least it's the sandbox. Ain't here. How'd the doc know she'd gone to the Kitties?"

Vechkov shrugs. "Apparently, it ain't no secret. That's where the shuttle goes, the time of day she bolted. So, if we know, it's a good bet the Big Guy knows."

N'Sha-El's growl rises, unabated and low, from the back of her throat. "Bloody hell." She deliberately leans over and spits on the ground with disgust before glancing back up at her companion. "Sandbox then?"

Vechkov nods. "Sandbox."

N'Sha-El turns on her heel, coat flaring out as she strides down the corridor. Fast.

Vechkov follows

You head into Decon Corridor .


 * Decon Corridor 


 * Evenly spaced shafts of light line this nondescript, semi-cylindrical hallway. Atmospheric sanitizers hiss and blowers move the cold air around you. Your feet clank on the grated metal floor. On one end, an airlock leads to the landing pad. The other end opens out to the spaceport lobby.

N'Sha-El arrives from Spaceport Atrium .

You head into Landing Platform .


 * Landing Platform 


 * Clouds of steam hiss from vents along the edges of this broad gunmetal gray platform beneath a violet sky dotted with stars and gleaming with five moons of varying sizes. Some unsavory folks conduct their bleak business in the shadows, while others haggle with pilots over fares and freight charges. Mechanics clad in the silver-chased royal blue jumpsuits of the pirate king's technical squad wander from ship-to-ship, checking fuel levels and rad-ratings.

N'Sha-El arrives from Decon Corridor .

Vechkov nods once again, tugging on the brim of his fedora, at the Elite Guard soldiers.

One of the guards says, "Hold it."

Vechkov stops, turning his attention to the soldier in question. "Yeah?"

N'Sha-El slouches in behind Vechkov, grunting a sort of unintelligeable greeting. As the guard stops him however, she pauses, looking irritated. Or at least, what of her face can be seen from the huge brim shadowing it.

The guard on the other side of the door walks up behind Sha and flips the fedora off her head. "Some reason you're trying to be sneaky, Miss?"

Vechkov raises his hands in the air and turns slowly. "Now, now, we're not making trouble, lads."

N'Sha-El's hair remains firmly pinned onto her head, several stray strands falling down her face. "It's a free port," she growls crossly. "Can't a bloody body walk aroun' without gettin' chawed? Yeesh."

The first guard says, "It's a free port for most, yeah. Not all." He looks Sha up and down, then glances back at his companion. "The one we want is taller, more meat on her."

N'Sha-El reaches for her hat, grunting. "Meat. Yeesh. Reduced to a bloody butcher's market, dammit. Chest size needed?" She looks rather peevish.

Vechkov arches his eyebrows. "The one you want...? Ah...yes, I heard. Jest something. Family on Sivad, yeah?"

The first guard nods. "Yeah, what we hear. We're lookin' there. Other places too. But mind yer own business, old man."

N'Sha-El wrinkles her nose with distaste. "Jest? Jest? Argh, whatta bloody name." She reaches for her hat again on tiptoe.

Vechkov smiles with the wrinkles around his eyes. "We'll be on our way." He nods to Sha. "Now."

Vechkov continues on his half-walking, half-waddling, but certainly limping path to the Black Widow.

N'Sha-El grunts. "A'right, don't need t'jaw, Dad...yeesh." She eyes the guard crossly and follows, muttering growls and grumbles.

You board the Black Widow.


 * Corridor 


 * A short corridor, all business-like steel and titanium alloy, leads into the interior of the ship. The entrance hatchway is flanked by a hand-print scanner and black keypad, as are the doors leading to port and starboard. Towards aft, the passageway continues on.

N'Sha-El enters through the hatch of the ship.

Vechkov frowns. "They'll be running the registry on the Widow. Move fast."

N'Sha-El exhales sharply as the airlock hisses behind them. "Moving." She's already darting towards the cockpit.

N'Sha-El heads into Cockpit .

The ship rumbles as it lifts off the ground and arches skyward.

You feel a sudden jerk as the ship speeds up.

From Cockpit , N'Sha-El yells, "Vech! Y'know how t'work a gunnery console?"

The ship roars and lurches as it enters OtherSpace.

The ship reverberates slightly as it speeds through Otherspace.

You head into Cockpit .


 * Cockpit 


 * This small cockpit is rather cramped, with most of its exposed surfaces dominated by both a panoramic window and a vast control console. The former wraps around the forward wall of the cockpit, providing a spectacular view of the small vessel's surroundings. The single navigation station rests before this window, its surface covered by numerous controls and displays. A single exit aft leads into the passenger compartment.

Vechkov nods slowly. "Yeah." He settles down at the console, getting reacquainted with the controls.

N'Sha-El glances around as she shoves the throttle almost into her belly. "Thank the stars. Go for it. I don't wanna be shot at any time before I've paid this lady off to Jaxx completely." She frowns, one hand dropping from the console to pull a computer deck towards her.

You feel the hum of the ship around you as it travels through Otherspace.

Vechkov nods. "No problem," he grunts, familiarizing himself with the controls. In so doing, he sets off the attempted weapons fire alarm. He growls. "Apparently, it's bad to try to shoot while in OtherSpace."

N'Sha-El tightens, hand darting into the pocket of her coat before relaxing. "Yeesh kapish Vech, bloody hell. Yah, I'd say so." Her grin is faintly wry as she returns to punching up screens. She withdraws her hand from her pocket and jacks the computer into her temple.

Your mind wanders for a moment as the ship travels through Otherspace.

Vechkov grimaces as his beefy hands clench the firing controls. "Hey, give a guy a break. I been dead for six months."

N'Sha-El chuckles. "I'm just kiddin' ya Vech, y'know that." She reaches to tap a key on her computer, then begins typing on the nav console.

The ship reverberates slightly as it speeds through Otherspace.

Your mind wanders for a moment as the ship travels through Otherspace.

N'Sha-El glances at the navigation screen for a minute as she finishes typing. "Gettin' close. Kitty land, whee."

The ship reverberates slightly as it speeds through Otherspace.

The ship shudders as it drops out of OtherSpace.

N'Sha-El queries, as she drops the Widow out of Otherspace, slowing the blur of stars to a dwindling glide, "I take it Vampire let you into the Widow? How'd you get in by the by earlier?"

The ship roars and lurches as it enters OtherSpace.

You feel the hum of the ship around you as it travels through Otherspace.

Vechkov smirks, the wrinkles crinkling around his eyes. "How'd you think Vampire got aboard earlier? He cracked the code. Gave it to me."

The ship shudders as it drops out of OtherSpace.

[5818] - Contact now identified as the Liquid Inferno.

[6075] - Contact now identified as the Demar Station.

Vechkov arches his bushy brows. "Well...Liquid Inferno, is it?"

N'Sha-El snorts. "I bet he did, the damn bastard...what is it?"

N'Sha-El glances up at the mention of the 'Liquid Inferno'.

Vechkov smirks. "That's Brokenclaw Understanding's ship."

N'Sha-El grins rather ferally. "Ohhhh, that guy who embezzled the kitties. He's here? HEH! Maybe I should drop a bounty on him and hook him up."

Vechkov shrugs, tightening his grip on the gun controls. "Or we could just deprive him of an escape route."

N'Sha-El's eyes gleam. "We could...unless he's on it. Damn."

The ship roars and lurches as it enters OtherSpace.

The ship shudders as it drops out of OtherSpace.

Vechkov shrugs. "On it or not, who cares? He's vermin."

N'Sha-El quirks a very devilish grin. "So take a lock on him and blow it up," she suggests, eyes gleaming. "Been wantin' t'test my cannons out."

You feel a sudden jerk as the ship speeds up.

Vechkov nods. "Get me within 600 hm."

N'Sha-El tosses her braid back. "You got it."

You feel the ship begin to slow.

The ship roars and lurches as it enters OtherSpace.

The ship shudders as it drops out of OtherSpace.

You feel a sudden jerk as the ship speeds up.

N'Sha-El grips the throttle, shoving it almost into her belly as she swings the Widow around in a sharp arc to the new coordinates. "Here we go..." she murmurs, grinning fiendishly.

Vechkov smirks.

You say, "Bring us around to 213 mark -35"

You feel the ship begin to slow.

N'Sha-El's fingers fly as she adjusts the controls. "Set. Go for it."

Vechkov nods

The Widow begins to glide to a halt, the throaty rumble of her engines slowing to a purr.

You feel a slight force as the ship glides to a halt ...

Vechkov growls. "Keep speed at zero. Rotate to 209 mark -77."

Vechkov nods. "Firing."

N'Sha-El grins as she does just that. Smoothly the ship turns, no lurching, no baulking.

You say, "Damage report?"

N'Sha-El says, "77 percent hull."

Vechkov nods. "Firing next salvo."

N'Sha-El frowns as she peers at the screen again.

Vechkov glances over at Sha. "Damage?"

A grin as the girl reports, "65. Keep goin'."

N'Sha-El says, "52."

Vechkov chortles, then turns back to his guns.

N'Sha-El cackles. "24! Keep it up man!"

Vechkov chuckles. "He ain't goin' too far. Banged his jump drives all to hell. Want to leave him crippled?"

N'Sha-El's eyes gleam. "Sure, why not...that's worse n' havin' no ship, right?"

Vechkov nods. "I think we've had enough fun. Your guns seem to work just fine."

N'Sha-El's face is one big devilish smile. "Thank you fer testin' em for me. How many rounds it take?" She eases the throttle back as she sets the Widow on course again and speeds it up.

You feel a sudden jerk as the ship speeds up.

Vechkov furrows his brow. "Roughly 18 rounds. And his shields were down. And he wasn't shooting back."

N'Sha-El chuckles. "Good nuff for now."

N'Sha-El flips a switch, throws the throttle wide. The Widow rumbles forward, stars becoming a mosaic.

N'Sha-El peers up at the viewscreen. "Almost there. She's easy to miss dammit."

You feel the ship begin to slow.

Vechkov nods.

You feel a slight force as the ship glides to a halt ...

- Beginning descent for the surface of Demaria.

The ship shudders as the drop rockets engage and the ship begins its descent.

Surface contact in 30 seconds.

N'Sha-El flips a switch, yanking the throttle back. "Landing in 30 seconds," she announces calmly. The Widow drops on a glide, gravity tugging at everyone's stomachs and pulling down.

The landing struts thump against the surface.

Vechkov grunts, watching the surface rise up to meet them.

Vechkov switches the guns out of hot mode and breaks his hands clear of the controls.

Some time later, they rendezvous with Sha's old friend Snowmist on the landing pad on Demaria...

Snowmist exits from the DGV Pridesong.

Vechkov loiters in the shadow of the Black Widow, brim of his fedora pulled down, collar of his battered trenchcoat pulled up to shield his squat face against the whirling sand. An unlit cigarette dangles from his fish-like mouth.

By Vechkov, black coat blowing in the strong wind like some mercenary on the prowl, is Sha, her hair bundled up on top of her head in some disarray. Strands whip onto her face as she shoves her hands into her pockets. "Well...let's go see if we can find Mist."

A flash suddenly flickers from the shadows behind the ships, the focused sheen of light reflected off a mirrored surface. It may be merely an aluminum scrap, caught at just the right angle, but the rhythm is too regular. Flash...flash...

Vechkov lets his wrinkled eyes drift toward the flashing.

The shadowed figure of a Demarian stands beside the Odriax, one hand against its hull as if for support, the other one slipping the dagger who's blade had been used to signal them back into a loosely knotted belt. The light-furred head nods to them in acknowledgement. Features and details are blurred by the darkness, but if one were familiar with the Demarian, they would be easily recognizable.

Vechkov glances down at Sha. "Your friend?" he mutters.

N'Sha-El's eyes narrow just a fraction as she catches sight of the flash. Then, as she peers forward and sees the darkened figure, she relaxes and a wide grin splits her features. "On time and regular as always," she murmurs. "Let's go." Forward she trots.

Teel exits from the Black Widow.

Vechkov nods, then moves to follow Sha, limping as he goes.

Teel pops down the ramp. "Hey, wait up!"

"Yo Mist!" Sha calls, turning and grinning at Teel, gesturing for her to come right ahead. "You got my message I see."

Snowmist winces slightly at the noise, and seems to draw back a little at first, but finally she moves toward them, limping slightly, eyes flicking about nervously. "Yeah. How's it goin'?" She smiles faintly as she meets Sha's eyes.

Vechkov shoves his beefy hands into the pockets of his trenchcoat, glancing from Sha to Snowmist.

N'Sha-El strides forward, coat flaring wide in the wind. She tilts her head at the limp, brow furrowing. "What happened girl? You got into trouble somewhere?"

Teel pats her blaster and looks at Vechkov. "Good ta see ya back."

Snowmist snorts, grimacing, rubbing her side absent-mindedly. "You can say that. Guess I'm just not slated for teamwork." Sighing, she looks about again. "Sorry, mind if we're not so out in the open? I don't think I would be recognized, but...nothing like paranoia, y'know?"

The wind seems to pick up, carrying with it grains of fine, gritty sand. It's humid out, and the heat is stifling after the relative coolness of the Widow's recycling system.

Vechkov glances back to Teel and chuckles, smiling with the wrinkles around his eyes. "Good to be back. Mostly."

Snowmist looks at Vechkov curiously.

Teel snorts sand out of her nose. "Hate this planet, hate this planet..."

Vechkov looks to Sha. "Y'know...a bar might be adviseable."

Snowmist winces immediately at the mention of a bar. "Hope you're not thinking of the Yarn..."

Vechkov shakes his head. "There's another one, in the spaceport."

N'Sha-El chuckles softly. "No no. C'mon. Let's talk in the Widow. I've food." Here she gives a HUGE grin to Snowmist. "Less you want to talk in the bar Vech mentioned?"

Vechkov furrows his brow. "Sha...I thought we were here to find Jest'liana, not eat."

Snowmist relaxes minutely and nods curtly. "Anything's fine." Some of her usual mischievous humor returns as she looks sidelong at Sha. "Just as long as someone's providing."

Teel rolls her eyes. "Can we jus get on with it?"

N'Sha-El quirks a half-smile at Vechkov. "Mist doesn't know what's happening, Vech. I'd like to brief her and soon. But you're right, we /are/ here to find Jest." She glances over at Mist. "Mind a briefing on the run girl? We gotta person to find an' yer the best I know."

Longsnout arrives from Decon Corridor .

Snowmist nods, brow furrowing. "Jest's missing? Yeah, best get this done quick then."

Longsnout wanders out onto the pad, adorned in silken robes. He raises his snout proudly, surveying the pad. He nods as he takes in the sights, then turns and walks to the monitoring station.

Longsnout heads into Monitoring Station <Alhira: Demaria>.

Vechkov narrows his eyes to a squint as he watches the Demarian noble wander through.

N'Sha-El takes one hand out of her coat pocket as she slits a glance at the Demarian that just strolled by. She tilts her head a little towards the decon corridor, beginning a quick trot in that direction. "Yeh. She came here yesterday. You seen her?"

Snowmist shakes her head as she follows, the limp suppressed as she automatically falls into a more alert stance, though her expression tightens slightly in pain. "No. I was actually off the planet before...hustled back here to meet you."

Vechkov follows the group, limping, his eyes drawn repeatedly toward the monitoring station.

Teel jams her hands in her pockets, concerned more with the blowing sand at the moment.

N'Sha-El heads into Decon Corridor <Alhira: Demaria>.

You head into Decon Corridor <Alhira: Demaria>.


 * Decon Corridor <Alhira: Demaria>


 * Evenly spaced shafts of light line this nondescript, semi-cylindrical hallway. Atmospheric sanitizers hiss and blowers move the cold air around you. Your feet clank on the grated metal floor. On one end, an airlock leads to the landing pad. The other end opens out to the spaceport lobby.

N'Sha-El drops her pace slightly so she's beside Vechkov. She murmurs something quietly to him. "Want me to check that station out while you go with Mist to find Jest?"

Teel arrives from Landing Pad <Alhira: Demaria>.

N'Sha-El drops her pace slightly so she's beside Vechkov. She murmurs something quietly to him.

Vechkov spits a mouthful of sandy gunk onto the grated floor. "God, I hate this planet," he snarls. Vechkov nods to Sha. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

Snowmist throws an amused smile toward him.

Vechkov glances toward Snowmist. "Ok, let's find the girl."

N'Sha-El nods curtly to Vech. She looks to Teel and Mist in turn. "I'm gonna check out that monitering station, k? You guys go ahead and find sis."

Snowmist looks between them, and then nods. "All right. I needta find a com, send and receive some messages."

Vechkov jerks a thumb toward the lobby. "In there?"

Teel nods. "Okay. I'll watch ya at th'com, Mist. But ya better make it quick."

N'Sha-El turns and strides out back to the landing pad, coat flaring out with each movement.

N'Sha-El heads into Landing Pad <Alhira: Demaria>.

Snowmist says, "That's fine."

Snowmist heads into Alhira Space Port <Alhira: Demaria>.

Teel heads into Alhira Space Port <Alhira: Demaria>.

You head into Alhira Space Port <Alhira: Demaria>.


 * Alhira Space Port <Alhira: Demaria>


 * Crystalline chimes ring and catch the light that shines from above through the airy glass pyramid that forms the lobby of the Alhira Space Port. A decontamination corridor leads toward the shuttlepad and translocation facility. An archway leads into a dimly lit tavern. And another opens onto the street beyond.

Snowmist moves immediately toward the mail console, slipping stiffly into the seat.

You see Snowmist sit down at the mail console.

Vechkov steps into the lobby, hands shoved into pockets, gazing around.

Snowmist glances up at Teel as she types. "How's it goin'?"

Teel shrugs as she looks around. "S'okay, I guess. You?"

Snowmist leans toward the screen, frowning as she reads something, and mutters, "Damn, wish I had my...well, never mind." She returns to typing, shrugging one shoulder. "Could be better. But then, could be a lot worse too. Luck seems to've balanced out."

Snowmist hits a last key and sighs, turning slightly toward them, one hand rubbing at a shoulder. "I keep loose tabs on those I personally know. Should take only a mome for them to follow up and gimme a ring."

Vechkov rolls the unlit cigarette in his mouth from one side to the other.

Teel stubs her toe in the sand.

Snowmist nods to Vechkov. "Have we met before?"

Vechkov shakes his head. "Don't think so. Name's Prague. Vechkov Prague."

Snowmist's brow furrows slightly. "Prague...Vechkov..." Her eyes widen slightly, and she opens her mouth...but before she can ask the obvious question, the mail console gives a brief ping.

Teel snorts. "You got mail."

Vechkov chuckles.

Snowmist looks at Vechkov, but finally turns back and quickly scrolls through the message. "Good news," she finally declares, logging out. "She was actually relatively easy to spot. She's in the Yarn."

You see Snowmist leave the mail console.

Vechkov ahs. "Well, we get to go there anyway."

Teel says, "Jest likes bars."

Snowmist sighs and grins ruefully. "Just can't stay away from that place..."

Vechkov smirks, smiling with the wrinkles around his eyes. "Lead the way."

Snowmist asks as she moves on to Lifah Street, "Is Sha coming with us?"

Vechkov shakes his head. "No."

Snowmist heads into Lifah Street <Alhira: Demaria>.

Vechkov limps after Snowmist.

You head into Lifah Street <Alhira: Demaria>.


 * Lifah Street <Alhira: Demaria>


 * Small, run-down looking storefronts line the streets, crowding in on top of each other. Most, even those reaching antiquity, are still clean and well kept, despite their overrun and impoverished surroundings.

Teel arrives from Alhira Space Port <Alhira: Demaria>.

Snowmist heads into Twisted Yarn Tavern <Demaria>.

You head into Twisted Yarn Tavern <Demaria>.


 * Twisted Yarn Tavern <Demaria>


 * Cackling laughter and bawdy songs assail you upon entering this intimate underground establishment, which is dimly illuminated with primitive torches that burn scented oil to fend off the odors drifting in from the sewer tunnel. The tavern has no furniture to speak of. Instead, dozens of cushions are scattered around the floor. A low shelf encircles the room, loaded with bottles of liquid refreshments.

Jest'liana sits near the corner, legs stretched out in front of her, lounging languidly. Her weight rests on her elbows, and her head is thrown back, eyes half lidded. She watches the room, and if not for the circles under her eyes, and the testimony of hands clentched into fists, one might almost believe the carefully constructed calm mask.

Vechkov limps into the tavern, fedora brim pulled down and trenchcoat collar pulled up, his beefy hands jammed down into his pockets.

Snowmist immediately moves to the side, eyes roving over the inhabitants as she tries to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

Teel cockily walks in, glancing around very obviously.

Vechkov lets his gaze drift around the tavern until his dark eyes settle on Jest'liana. He rolls the unlit cigarette back to the other side of his fish-like mouth.

Snowmist spots Jest in the corner, and murmurs, "There's your missing person," before moving toward her, dodging obstacles on the way a little stiffly.

Vechkov motions for Teel and Snowmist to hang back. "Let me handle this, would ya?"

Snowmist pauses, eyebrows raised in question, before finally nodding.

Vechkov nods his appreciation, then limps toward Jest'liana's table. "Mind if I join ya?"

Teel clenches a fist, but nods as well.

Jest'liana doesn't glance to the door or the people entering until they have walked several feet in. Then she looks over, lips quirking at the sight of Teel and Snowmist and...she straightens up quickly as Vechkov walks over and speaks. "I....be my guest." She manages to pull from the air, looking a bit astonished.

Vechkov nods. "Thanks." He yanks a chair out. "You want the good news or the bad news?"

Jest'liana begins to smile slowly. "First Greyback and now you. Just don't tell me you are a clone?" Her tone has a bit of its usual teasing in it, and she gains more animation than it has had in the past 72 hours.

Vechkov removes his fedora, revealing a wiry mass of unruly black hair atop his head. He brushes a beefy hand across the top of the hat, knocking sand off in waves. Then he sets the hat on the table and slumps heavily into the chair. "Yeah, the good news is I'm alive. No clone. They broke the mold when they made the first Vechkov Prague."

Snowmist looks about and finds an empty pillow nearby, sinking awkwardly onto it and closing her eyes briefly in relief.

Jest'liana laughs, "Sha was very upset you know." Her smile gains strength. "I was just a little bit too." She jokingly makes a small gesture with her thumb and forefinger. "Just a touch." It doesn't seem she heard much of his first statement. "Are you going to share how you cheated death, again?"

Vechkov shakes his head. "Maybe later. First, I gotta give you the bad news. Then, you still want to hear how fat, gimpy old Vechkov survived another brush with death, I'll tell you."

Teel settles down on a pillow near Snowmist, wary.

Jest'liana tilts her head, and her eyes widen, undercurrents of fear. She looks towards Teel, reassuringly. Then back to Vechkov. "What has happened?"

Vechkov tightens his lips around the cigarette briefly, then tugs the cancer stick from his mouth with two pudgy fingers and fixes his dark eyes on Jest'liana. "No easy way to say this, doll. I'm the triggerman who put Falkenberg down."

Snowmist's eyes fly open at the admission.

Jest'liana goes very still as the meaning of his words fully sink in. Breath hissing in a sharp understated inhalation, her hands tighten again. She stares at him.

Vechkov nods slowly. "Yeah, I know."

Teel watches with blank eyes.

Vechkov raises the hand with the cigarette tucked in it. "I had a reason, though. If you want to hear it."

"You..." She breaks off and laughs tightly, "Aw, hell. Why not?" Her grey eyes remain focused tight on his.

Snowmist whispers to Teel.

Vechkov nods, then reaches into a pocket of his trenchcoat. He pulls out a crumpled cigarette pack, tosses it on the floor, then pulls out a wadded napkin, tosses it on the floor, then he finds a silver locket and plucks it out. He sticks the cigarette back in his mouth, uses the hand to flip open the locket. He turns the locket so it faces Jest. "Her name is Ariana. From a wealthy family on Ungstir Prime. Pretty girl, neh?"

"Wealthy girls usually are." She doesn't really glance down at it, maybe just a half second. Her tone is flat.

Vechkov nods, keeping the locket turned toward Jest. "She took a dive out a 30th floor window when John Christian Falkenberg left her standing at the altar."

Teel nods slowly, looking at Jest'liana.

Snowmist whispers to Teel.

Teel whispers to Snowmist.

Snowmist whispers to Teel.

A moment of utter silence. Then her lips twitch and a strangled sound escapes her throat. Jest laughs, leaning back and hiding her mouth with her hands. "Left her at...? Ohh gods...And she was what to you? A niece? A sister? Hell, an illegitimate daughter?"

Vechkov flips shut the locket, tucking it back into his pocket. "No," he says, shaking his head. "Daughter of a client."

Teel's face darkens in the face of Jest's laughter, but she stays silent.

Snowmist winces and sighs, leaning back on her pillow and closing her eyes.

Jest'liana raises one finger. "So. You shot F-falkenberg for a stranger. A stranger who had her own choices in life, was too weak to face some hurt, and killed herself. You fucking /shot/ Falkenberg for no greater reason than that?" And her voice is so matter of fact.

Vechkov shakes his head. "No. I shot Falkenberg for 1,000 credits and a heartbroken father."

Snowmist's ears twitch but otherwise she doesn't stir, asleep, to all appearances.

Teel clenches her jaw, hard, but stays very, very silent.

Jest'liana makes a tsking sound, "You should have shot the father. No girl gets that broken up by one bloody man, unless its her damn families fault." She stands up, "I could have paid you the 1,000 credits. Maybe even two."

Vechkov shrugs. "I didn't know you were involved."

"Much less know that I wasn't exactly poor anymore." She says cheerily as she starts to walk towards the door. She gets about a yard or two away before she stops, tilts her head and turns on her heel, drawing her blaster in one smooth motion. Her aim is for Vechkov's chest, and it is unwavering.

Vechkov holds his arms outright, exposing his broad barrel chest. "Take the shot."

Snowmist's eyes open as Jest approaches the door, and she watches silently as she takes aim.

Teel sits up, hand wavering over her blaster but not pulling. "Jest...no girl gets that broken up by one bloody man..."

"Why?" She says, voice low and barely recognizable, gaze locked on to Vechkov's.

Vechkov keeps his wrinkled eyes locked on Jest. "Why? Because I was paid. Because a heartbroken father wanted revenge for being robbed of his daughter. In that order. Hell, you ought to be thanking me. I saved you from the same damn thing, most likely."

Jest'liana shakes her head faintly. "Why should I take the shot?" She ennunciates clearly.

Snowmist's expression darkens at the investigator's presumption.

Vechkov shrugs. "Because you loved that evil bastard so much it makes it worth it for you to take my life."

N'Sha-El arrives from Lifah Street <Alhira: Demaria>.

Teel watches, an anxiousness creeping into her eyes as Jest points the gun at

Vechkov is sitting at a table, arms outstretched, as Jest keeps a blaster aimed directly at him.

From the doorway, a dark, scarred face peeks in, hair bundled up on top of her head.

Snowmist glances toward the door at Sha's arrival, but doesn't move in her seat on a pillow nearby except to turn back to the tableau.

N'Sha-El's eyes narrow sharply as she takes in the scene before her. She steps in. "Sis," she says quietly.

Vechkov snarls at Sha. "Get back."

Jest'liana shakes her head again, just as slowly. "No. It makes it worth using you to see exactly what pain looks like carved into the body of another person. It makes sneaking up behind you one day to cut the muscles out of your legs with a pen knife worth it. It mkes taking a cheese grater and practicing deboning..worth it. And, you should know that. That, my dear Vech, is what you deserve.." Same tight and simple tone. She ignores Sha, too far from Vech for him to make a grab for her blaster, too close for someone to step betwen easily.

Vechkov shrugs. "It doesn't bring him back. Does it?"

N'Sha-El stands where she is, a slow, creeping anguish filling her eyes. She shakes her head slowly, then turns away, leaning her hand against the lintel of the door, staring blindly out into the street.

Teel gazes at Jest for a while, and then snorts in disgust.

Snowmist snorts. "Just what are you trying to accomplish? You admit you're guilty, and offer yourself in recompense. Then you denounce Falk, and assure her that anything she does now won't help."

Vechkov shakes his head. "Just want her to know the truth," he says, keeping his eyes on Jest. "I won't candy coat it. She knows I'm the least of her problems right now. Or should."

Jest'liana inclines her head in acknowledgement. "He is right though. It won't bring him back." She grins, "But it just might make me feel better. And, again, you are right. I have the Elite Guard on my back. But again, that is thanks to you. And all for such an inane and idiotic purpose." She re-holsters the blaster and smiles quirkily, "Just goes to show, doesn't it? I really thought I liked you Vechkov. I like people just too damn easy." She turns and walks towards the door, hands shaking now.

N'Sha-El says, slowly, dully, "Let's go back." She doesn't look at the scene, doesn't look at anyone, just stares in front of her at a point in the air. "I came for a sister."

Vechkov lowers his arms, the immediate crisis past. He doesn't even seem to be shaking, but his eyes wrinkle downward as he rolls the cigarette back to the other side of his mouth. "Go on without me."

Snowmist looks between them all before shaking her head in exasperation, getting slowly to her feet with the help of the wall.

Jest'liana turns slowly to look at Sha. "I take it you have decided I am not that anymore, then?"

Teel wipes her gun hand on her pants and mumbles something about getting what you ask for. "Have /you/ decided that /we/ ain't yer sisters, Jest?"

N'Sha-El lifts her eyes. "Sis. I came here to look for you because I wanted you to be /safe/. Because I love you dammit, and because I've missed you and knowing you're in danger is rippin' me apart! Can't you see that?" Her eyes are filled with tears. "Or have you grown so far from me that you don't care any more?"

"All I heard was you say, 'Let's go back. I came here for a sister.'" Jest repeats.

N'Sha-El closes her eyes. "I did. I came for you. I'm here. But I hear you talkin, sis, and I don't know you any more. I don't know what you want, and I don't know what else to do. I don't know if you still care any more. I did come for a sister. I want to leave with a sister. Do you want to come?" She ignores the slow trickle of an errant tear down her cheek, her voice shaking slightly. "I didn't stop you the last time. I won't stop you now. You know that."

Vechkov shrugs roughly, getting up by the table. "Whatever. Look, Fagin's roughs are coming sooner than you think. You can stand here and mope about Falkenberg and wait till they come calling. Or you can beat tracks outta Dodge." He limps toward the door. "Either way, I'm sorry. And good luck."

Teel crosses her arms, watching with cold eyes.

Jest'liana raises a hand to her face, hiding her eyes. "Vechkov." She says, voice unsteady, like she is seeing any number of things slip through her fingers. "Burn in hell."

Vechkov nods vaguely. "Yeah, I figure I might." He smiles with the wrinkles around his eyes, then caps the fedora back on his head and makes for the door. He stops as he reaches Sha. "I'll stay in touch." Then he limps out.