• Nobles of Null is a forum based roleplay site where sci-fi and magic collide. Here, Earth remains fractured and divided despite humanity reaching out to the stars. Worse still, the trans-human slaves of one major power have escaped, only to establish their own Empire, seething with resentment at abuses of the past. Even the discovery of aliens, though medieval in development, has failed to rally these squabbling children of Earth together with its far darker implications. Worse still, is the discovery of the impossible - magic. Practiced by the alien locals, nearly depleted and therefore rare, its reality warping abilities remains abstract and distant to the general populace. All the while, unseen in the darkness of space, forces from without threaten to press in. For those with eyes opened by insight, it is clear that an era is about to end, and that a new age will dawn.

Chapter 2: Bag and Tag

Ray of Meep

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Co-authored by Ray of Meep (GM), Acewing13, Ikate Keda Studios, and TheCountryWarrior

Content Warning: Graphic sexual depictions


???? A.D., 14 Earth days after the Grau Lancer's first baptism by fire

Silbern System, Daimler Gate, Castle Services Spaceport, aboard Daheim One

"I don't know if the rest of the boys and girls are going to like this." Eberhard commented to his wife as he put on a seemingly normal pair of aluminum framed glasses. The Grau couple were standing around in the frigate's armory. Eberhard was wearing a black business attire, complete with a suit, with a blue shirt underneath. Ulrike, on the other hand, stayed in her relaxed jumpsuit, crossing her arms and looked at her husband with a smile.

"They'll be fine, Ebbey. This'll be a nice change in pace for them."

"Nice change in pace?" Eberhard looked back at Ulrike inquisitively? "I'm not sure what we're doing will be nice at all. A lot is on the line. Why we're the ones who have to go through this is still beyond me."

Ulrike searched for words, but alas sighed and shook her head. "The police force doesn't have an arrest warrant for her, and it's not like the way we got the evidence will hold up in court." She came up and put her hand on Eberhard's shoulder. "You'll do fine. we picked the right people. You know that."

"Yeah... I suppose." Eberhard tapped the side of his glasses. "Lancers, assemble in the armory. Don't bother with suiting up yet."

Juan had been chilling in his room, looking over his video games and trying to decide on whih game to play. They had pretty much decided to fight it out in Monster Ripper 2 when Juan had got the call to arms. With a groan, he had to dismiss himself, make sure all the naughty things were hidden from the kid, and let him play video games. Now with a slightly sour taste in his mouth for not getting to pulverize the child's dreams using his custom HunterKiller Armageddon Killer, he dressed to an average soldier level.

"Are you heading out for mission?" Jacob asked, frowning.

"Yep. I'll kick your ass next time though! You have fun, if I'm getting called, so is your mother so you can play for a good damn while!" Chuckling to himself, leaving Jacob with the games and went to the armory.

Beatrix showed up soon after Juan and raised an eyebrow at Eberhard's choice of uniform. "What's going on, boss?" she asked. "You going to a funeral?"

It took a couple minutes for Joan to join them, looking a little bothered. "Sorry I'm late. Wanted to say bye to Jacob, but I couldn't find him," she said with a shrug. "Probably playing with Hayden, so no sense worrying him. What's the mission Eberhard?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"We're kidnapping someone." Eberhard stated plainly.

"More like arresting without warrant." Ulrike tried to correct her husband, who shrugged in response.

"What's the difference?"

Juan's head had found itself tilted in confusion, and he raised a single finger in the air. "Question boss. Well a comment and a question. First, I think the main difference is that both of what you said is very illegal. Second, I thought we have to have like a dramatic fall from grace before we turn into what we fought and become the bad guys."

Joan stared at Juan for long, deadpanned moment, before shaking her head and looking at the Grau's. "Delivery aside, he kinda has a point. I'm cool with shooting Pirates and declared enemies of the state, I might need convincing on blatant kidnapping."

"You're both rightfully concerned." Eberhard nodded, "If you'll recall, you recovered some files and a communication log from the Matchstick. The files confirmed that the Matchstick's crew did intend on targetting a freighter: specifically, one that carried metals used in weapons manufacturing."

"The communication log, on the other hand, was linked to this individual:" He then projected a portrait of a young woman on the screen, no more than thirty years old. She, like most of those living in space, was thinner and paler then planet-dwellers, with green-eyes, brown hair. "Edith Dussault, 28 years old, owner of a club-and-brothel in the spaceport. Despite the GDW's efforts to normalize the practice, it's still linked to crime syndicates, including illegal weapons manufacturing in the Silbern system."

"Look at that Juan," Joan smiled. "Maybe you'll see some familiar faces!"

Juan chuckled. "It would make the trip more entertaining, that's for sure."

Eberhard broke a smile, and continued. "By the time the police go through the bureacracy to legally arrest her for more information, she would've escaped their grasp, which is where we come in."

"Oh, so we're gonna knick her to get around some red tape?" Joan asked, smiling a little. "We also gonna interrogate her? I've always wanted to use what I learned in advanced interrogation..." She added, cracking her knuckles.

"Yep." Eberhard nodded. "Law enforcement wants nothing to do with her, but also wants all the rewards, so we'll be doing all the bloody work this time. Make sure you don't let your kids out of the habitation modules. We'll likely bring her onto the Holsteiner to do it. But that's step three out of this whole ordeal. Before that, we actually have to catch her, and before that, we have to neutralize any potential security."

He switched from the portrait to the map of the Castle Services spaceport, highlighting a three-storied architecture built into the walls of the torus. "Sword and Sheath Entertainments. Schematics and schedules of the place have been sent to your PDB's."

"Gotta love that euphmism," Beatrix said with a snort.

"If you ask me they could've been less on the nose, but I'm not one to judge." Eberhard shrugged again. "I've scheduled a meeting with her in six hours. When I'm in her office, you do whatever it takes to identify and neutralize her security forces in the establishment, afterwards you can join me take her."

"While law enforcement will be turning a blind eye to our actions, they've requested certain conditions be met: we don't create panic among the civillians, and we still to low yield weaponry." He held up a suppressed pistol. "This is the best you're going to get. No flashbangs, no grenades. "You'll also want to stick to civillian clothing as well, so your protection," Ulrike smiled mischeviously, "will be limited."

"Well fuck..." Joan frowned, crossing her arms. "Ah don't like the idea of not having our helmets," she said. "Gonna have to think of something," she sighed.
 
"Wait," Bee said, looking at the buisness place. "We've got to take out all of the security forces with nothing bigger than a pistol? How many security guards are we talking about?"

"Financial records show two bouncers for the establishment. Judging the size and any non-disclosed expenditures, there could be anywhere from six to twelve extra guards." Eberhard replied.

"Ah'm not so worried about the weapon," Joan said, looking at Beatrix. "We should be worried about them recognizing is later. Most, if not all of this is probably going to be in a loud, civilian rich zone with a lot going on. We have the weapon advantage. How to hide the weapons and still fit in is another story."

Juan piped up again. "I thought we were soldiers, not super spies. There's a spec ops extraction mission and then there's playing secret agents. This seems out of our wheelhouse. Unless of course I'm the only one here with no secret double life."

"Told you." Eberhard glanced at Ulrike, who spoke up. "There aren't any other credible PMC's who'll take on the job in the vicinity, and we don't have time to vet new recruits. We're also the ones who got the information that lead to our target. Plus, we recruited you not just for your skillsets, but also your adaptability. After all..." She winked at Juan, "... you didn't even know how to do EVA, and you did just fine out there."

"The truth of that is debateble, but I also need to do the job. This is far different from casual learning beforehand, this is expecting me to be Hitman on the first outing. I'll still do it." Juan put up a finger. "Just know that this could go terribly."

Ulrike nodded. "We understand. If you end up in a firefight, force Ms. Dussault towards the docks, where our own security will be ready for intercept. Eberhard and I will handle the political backlash."

"There's three of us, so we're anywhere from 3 or 5 to one. I've had worse odds, but I usually had more firepower at my disposal," Bee said, biting her lip. "How long is the meeting going to be for?"

"I disguised the meeting as a business negotiation." Eberhard replyed. "I should be in there for thirty minutes."

"Well," Joan said looking among the team, "I think the easiest way would be to avoid the front door. Maybe Juan, you can be a janitor, we can hide some equipment in those carts they push around, and Beatrix and I can be bar staff," Joan offered. "We go in first, Juan follows behind, we distract the guards, he takes them out."

Juan had another epiphany, a chance he could not let go to waste, though basic social graces told him he must. He did it anyway, a smirk crossing his face. "Bar maids? Wouldn't you feel more comfortable as the 'help?' They wouldn't be able to tell you from their staff, you'd fit right in."

"Ah ain't dressing line a whore to fulfill your fantasies boy," Joan growled, as Bee facepalmed. "Especially not to go into a public place."

Juan clicked his tongue and shrugged. "Not yet maybe."

"Actually," Ulrike raised her palm just before Joan was about to punch Juan, "It'll suck for Bee and Joan here, but dressing up as the help might actually rouse less suspicion. Prostitute normalizaion, like Eberhard said, isn't complete yet, so employment turnaround is still pretty high, which means less scrutiny involved."

Beatrix opened her mouth to object, but closed it again as she thought it over. "Yeah, they're probably paying more attention to the 'front' of the house than the employees," she said with a frown. "So, we just dress up like hookers, show up, and get hired on the spot?"

"Bee!" Joan almost whined, her face now bright red. "You can't be okay with this idea!?"

"Okay? No," Beatrix replied, but then shrugged. "If we're going to do this, it needs to be done right. This is probably the best way to get in, at least that we can sort out in a few hours."

Juan was not expecting his, if he was being honest with himself, fairly crass joke to be taken seriously. Now averting his gaze to the floor, he crossed his arms. "I was kidding! It's a fair idea, but... I will not hear the end of this will I? Okay, going with this plan, I think we'd go through the back. We'll just slip on in, and pretend we were there the whole time. Heh, we'll slip in from the back."

Joan groaned covering her face. "I'm never going to live this down..." She whined into her hands. "God I hope my kids don't see me... I don't even own anything that is even remotely whorish

Ulrike brought her hands behind her back and smiled mischeviously. "Well, about that..." She backed up to one of the lockers and clicked it open, letting three backpacks fall out, two in red and one in blue. "... I got a set for Juan too, just in case."

"Ulri?" Eberhard raised a disapproving eyebrow.

"Hey, we had two weeks, and we knew they were going into a whorehouse." Ulrike protested, still smiling. "To be fair, I also got a couple janitor outfits from ex-employees."

Joan stared at Ulrike with her jaw dropped, completely speechless at how these events were unraveling. "You... You..." she stammered, incapable of speech. "Why can't I be a janitor!" She asked. "You have extra janitor uniforms!"

"None that fit your size." Ulrike replied flatly.

"But..." She frowned, shoulders slumping. "I'm not fat..." She whimpered, actually sounding quite emotional at this point.

"It's not that you're fat. It's the other thing." Ulrike pointed at Joan's chest.

Juan stared at the third backpack, anxiety in his eyes. "A set of what Ulrike. A set of what. What is in the backpack. Just tell me. Please."

"Nothing relevant anymore, since you're running as a janitor." She kept her mischevious smile.

Juan sighed. "Why did you have these? Were you just waitng for me to say something?"

"She knew we were going to infiltrate a brothel," Bee said, picking up both red backpacks. "Not hard to think that we might need to be dressed for the occasion. Which one's mine? Cause we're definetly not the same size."

"Name tags on the back."

"I need to lay down..." Joan groaned, plannin leaning on one of the boxes. "I don't think I can do this."

Juan shrugged but smiled. "You could totally pull it off! You can just take another set of clothes for when we're getting serious, and then you'll never have to do it again."

"What Juan said." Ulrike nodded. "Besides, you're getting paid to enact some bureacracy-free justice."

Joan looked at Ulrike with a pained look, then got up and walked over to Beatrix, taking her bag and putting it on. "We never... Ever... Speak of this again..." She whispered, he cheeks still burning red.

"Could be worse," Beatrix said, putting on the backpack. "We could have tried going through the sewer."

"Right!" Ulrike clasped her hands, and left with a seemingly upbeat attitude. Eberhard followed her, but not before putting his hand on Joan's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry."
 
The "underground" of the spaceport, more outward on the torus, was far more segmented than the main plaza space, bulkheads more frequent and the walls thicker. Being closer to the outer edge, gravity was slightly stronger; what normally weighed 100 pounds here weighed 101 or 102.

The group of infiltrators walked down a maintenance hallway, a safe distance from the target. The Grau's managed to get them a key to a staff area where they could get changed without drawing to much suspicion. Two single bathrooms and a small sitting space staff would take their breaks in.

"I've got bathroom," Joan said tersely, quickly blowing past Beatrix and Juan, shutting the door behind her and locking it.

"I mean," Bee said, looking at Juan, "Unless you need to go, I'll just use the men's."

Juan bowed to her with a quick bow. "After you my lady."

"Alright, see you in a few minutes," Beatrix said with a smile, before walking into the unoccupied bathroom and closed the door.

With the ladies gone Juan would look around for other people, confirming he was alone before he changed into his disguise for the night, holding his usual outfit of a t-shirt and khakis bundled in his hands, and waiting for the ladies to be done. He mostly hoped no one was ogling him, but he also felt he had nothing to hide in that department.

A little while later, Bee opened the door to the bathroom a little and tossed her backpack out of the room. "Sorry, going to be a few more minutes," she said, before closing the door again.

Juan caught the incoming bag, doing his best to not look at anything untoward.

True to her word, Beatrix came out a couple of minutes later and the transformation was surprising. Her dress started with a red collar around her neck, then two strips of fabric ran down her front, barely covering her nipples as they framed her cleavage. The fabric joined below her belly button, becoming a (drape) that covered her groin. Besides that, she had bedazzled thigh-high boots and matching evening gloves.

"Ulrike wasn't kidding around," she said, adjusting the fabric to her satisfaction. "Glad I wasn't in charge of picking the clothes. Definetly wouldn't have gone this far. Anyway," she said, reaching towards Juan with a hand holding a ribbon, "Can you help me tie up my hair in a ponytail? Tried doing it myself and almost tore this thing."

Juan, despite earlier advice, tried not to stare. "Ho-ly shit. You look," He looked at the ground, and reached for the ribbon. "fantastic. I'm not too good at hair, so give me a minute." He moved behind her and took her hair back into a ponytail, fumbling aroud for a couple minutes. "You know you don't have to actually get laid today right? This would do the trick."

"Pfft and waste getting all dressed up for it?" Bee asked, chuckling and taking a step back, until she was leaning against his chest. "Someone has to get lucky tonight."

He looked down at her, and chuckled. The accent became stronger, and he moved his face closer to her ear to whisper into it. "A good point my dear, it would be such a waste to get all dressed up for one carnal action and then never go through with it! A real shame, one so stunning as you to go along so alone into the night. Bedsheets holding only the warmth of one, an embrace nowehere nearby. Yes, lucky would be the right word my sweet, to spend a night with you."

"Hmm, true," Beatrix replied, turning her head and kissing Juan on the cheek. "We've got a deadline though, so it'll have to wait." She then walked to the woman's restroom and knocked. "Joan? You almost done?"

"I can't do dis..." Joan replied after a few second of silence. Her voice sounded tight and strained. "I can't come out in dis..." She added, sniffling slightly. "Is 'umiliating."

"Come on, Cowboy," Bee said, resting her arm on the door frame. "I get it, it sucks. But we don't have time for this. We got like 45 minutes until Cobalt's meeting starts."

"Fine," Joan said, the sound of water running and splashing for a moment. It sounded like she was taking several breaths before the door slowly opened and Joan stepped out. Her face was quite clean and red, her eyes a little red too, as she stood there in the outfit Ulrike had chosen for her, if it could even be called that. There was nothing left to the imagination. She had on a purple multistrap thong that had a middle peice that crawled up her body, between her breasts, and turned into a sort of cloth collar that covered her entire neck. There was no shirt. Her breasts were entirely exposed aside from a pair of pasties that covered her nipples. Finally, she had on long sleeved gloves, and similarly coloured boots. Despite the expected reaction of trying to cover her breasts, she had her arms over her stomach as she stood there, staring at the ground. "Just..." She said, taking a deep breath. "Just say something... I won't hold together if the first thing I hear is from a bunch of criminals..." She said, looking up and at her two teammates.

Juan looked at the ground for a bit, before gaining the courage to look her over. He gave her a supportive smile with kind eyes, and spoke freely. "You look beautiful Joan. Don't listen to the crooks, or to what I say in the heat of the moment, you look majestic. You rock it, I am enjoying the view in a very gentlemanly way, and you deserve to look just plain sexy every now and then."

"And I thought my outfit was revealing," Bee said, brushing a stray bit of hair back as she took it all in.

"She probably couldn't find anything that fit..." Joan said, finally moving her arms, revealing an angry looking scar that was bleeding through some makeup. She looked at her chest. "The... covers... Are probably da only fing she could find... Fuck why was I born wif breasts like dese..." She asked, taking another deep breath, and looking at Juan. "I apprecia'e what you just said, and it kinda makes me feel better, but I need something that I'll hear in there. Give me your best shot."

Juan hissed through his teeth, and looked around. "Got it, training time. Best shot." He cleared his throat, and gave her a once over, already feeling bad. "Hey milk jugs, got a free gallon? Another will be: 'Sup pillows, I wanna bury my face in them.' In rare cases, you'll hear things like slut, 'sup baby', jugs, 'can I get at them bigguns', 'lets head to the back and you can milk me for a change,' some will ask to suck on your tits, and people just get more creative from there." Juan stared at the ground, his hand on his forehead. "It'll be done and over with soon. You absolutely can say no, if they get too grabby you know you can kick their ass, and I will be nearby to clean up the blood. Do you want me to go on?"

Joan looked at him for a moment, taking a deep breath and stepping foward. "You... Wan' me ta milk you?" She asked, the question sounding awkward and forced, but she kept her eyes on him, holding her hands behind her back.

Juan sighed, and smiled warmly. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize this was what you meant. You're adorable. You are absolutely adorable. You need to feel it in your voice, an almost primal voice of desire. Your body is a tool here, a majesticlly made tool but in this business a tool nonetheless. I know you've been sexy before, you had two kids. Find that in yourself, remember it, and pull it forward to seduce me. Once you get more confident, you'll be the sexiest woman in there. Keep trying. I will not judge, I will not ogle, take your time. We have 45 minutes after all."

Joan smiled a little, looking away with a small blush on her face. "Okay," She said, seeming to think about what he said for a moment. She took another breath, and smiled in a more presentational way, walking up to Juan, backing him into a table and continuing to lean into him, one hand resting on the table, slipping the fingers of her other under his waist band. She kept her eyes locked with his, and now her smile became sly, her eyes lidding a bit. "Wanna play with the box my kids came in?" She whispered softly, tightening her grip on his pants.

Bee had unfortunately decided to take a drink of water while Joan practiced and nearly choked when she heard what the older woman had said. She turned her head and sprayed water on the nearby wall.

Juan let himself be backed up to the table, almost a leer crawling across his face as his right eyebrow shot up, looking towards her as his breath picked up slightly. "Oooh, that was fantastic. Glad I wore loose pants." He chuckled to himself, but shrugged. "Don't mention the kids though, most people in that hive of scum aren't into that. Worked great on me, but that's just because I already know and like you. The wordplay was excellent though!"

"Fuck," Beatrix said, still coughing water out of her lungs, "Give me more warning next time. Fucking hell, that was, too much."

Joan winced a little at the advice to not mention her kids, but steeled into the role a little more, and nodded. "Oh ya already like me?" She asked, her voice a low whisper. "Maybe ah kin show ya a few more reasons tah like me, 'sides da ones on me chest hmm?" She asked, almost nose to nose with the man.

Juan smiled a lusty smile, looking into her eyes with an intensity he rarely used, whispering back in his thickening accent. He did in fact have somthing of a problem in the pants area, but he did wear loose pants because he forsaw somthing along these lines.
 
"Yer pupils are da size 'o plates," Joan said, a little lust falling from her tone as she stepped back, but Juan could see she was calling the kettle black. Taking another deep breath and letting it out quickly, as if shedding off any tension, she nodded. "Right. Ah've gotten meself in da right mindset tah 'andle dis. A li'el practice in dese 'eels and ah'll be right as rain ah fink," She said, bending over to look at her feet from around her breasts. "Dey're pre'ay steep, but I fink dey make me calf look 'alf decent," She said, looking at Beatrix. "Ya ready tah try in git dis ovah wif? Cause, ah'm finking da interrogation aftah dis is gonna be all d sweetah."

"No kidding," Bee said, carefully drying herself. "Ready or not," she said, popping her knuckles, "here we come Sword and Sheath Entertainments."

Juan took a deep breath of his own, looking at the ground, and chuckling. "You girls are going to be the death of me! Too sexy, what am I gonna do with my life." Standing upright, he smiles at them both. "Let's get this over with, so I can totally not think about this later, in privacy." He began to walk off, feeling far too awkward to look at them.

"If'n ya need some 'elp," Joan teased, jarking her head for Bee to follow along. "Ah'm sure some lovely ladies might be willing tah lend an 'an," She said, letting the comment sink in. "Plen'y at da brofel." She winked, before picking up the pace and getting ahead of him and his cart.

Juan snickered. "You teases, it just makes me more determined. Maybe I should pracitice my own seduction on you two, wouldn't stand a chance."

"In your dreams, lover boy," Bee said, fast walking until she was walking by Joan's side.
 
"We'll distrac' dem," Joan said, looking back at Juan. "You 'ake em ou' when we've got der attention off ya," She said, waving a hand down below her waist to tell Juan to fall back a little. This is what the lewdness from before was for. The guards that were there were largely built men, and despite it being against Station Regulations, both of them carried pistols, and their attention was very quickly on the two girls walking down the hallway.

One gave a low whistle, and the other took a few steps forward, holding out his hand with a smile on his face. "Woah there ladies, where do two fine asses like yours think they're going?" He asked, one hand resting on his holster, the other on his belt buckle.

"First day on a new job," Joan replied, her voice dripping a seductive sweetness. "We were told this was where we got in to get ready, sorry we're late. We wanted to come dressed for the occassion," She added, a girlish giggle following after.

"Yeah," Beatrix said, batting her eyes at the security guards. "We were told there was an initiation, would either of you know what that's about?" she asked, pretending to trip in her heels and grabbing Joan's arm, giving the guards quite the view.

The other guard walked over, looking at the first. "Hey, boss said we weren't allowed to touch the girls," He said, nudging the first with his elbow.

"Awe, and pass up giving these two new girls their proper initiation?" The first asked, looking at the guard, then looking at the two girl in front of him. "What do you think? I'm partial to blondes, but I would not mind taking miss funbags for a ride," He said, walking up to Joan, pressing her up against the wall, running a hand up her leg.

"Dude, seriously," The second guard hissed, looking the other way down the hall. "Someone could catch us!"

"Fine, they can catch me with both girls then," The first guard said.

"Oh, that's no fun," Beatrix said, hopping over to the second guard and pressing herself against him and rubbing her leg in between his thighs.

Down the hall, Juan was just around the corner, and he had a pretty good vantage point to see and hear what was going on. He could hear it all, if he wanted he could see it all. They were manhandling the girls like animals. His gaze would often look down to the cart as he pretended to mop, knowing the cache of weapons he could kill the twon bastards with. He had no idea why he was so mad right now. The thought of the ladies being touched like meat, by men that cared only for the bodies they may have a chance to use, it boiled within him. He thought maybe it was some sort of nice guy routine he'd never worked out of his system, or some alpha male mentality he projected onto the girls, but no matter how he looked at it he steamed with anger. He really wish he knew why. Did he care? Well that was a stupid question, of course he cared, they were his team. The team is his family, because there's no one else to go to. And the thought of his team being felt up like dolls didn't sit right wih him. Making jokes and trying not to ogle them was the line, and he tried not to cross it. he was good at not crossng it. These two cared not for the line. They were no better than animals. Juan found himself holding his silenced pistol in his hand, mop in the other. Neither guard noticed.

It went on for a few minutes, the girls playing along, giggling and mewling as they let the guards have their fun. Then Juan heard a sharp gasp, and Joan's hand ball into a fist as the guard laughed. "Oh this one want's to be initiated alright," He grinned, pulling his hand out from between her legs.

With merely a thought and a muscle twitch, a quiet little bullet soared through the air and nailed the less enthusiatic guard in the head. Another bullet a half second after the first sliced through his throat to keep any screaming to a gentle gurgling. He could see Joan slide down the wall and Beatrix groan as she pushed the dead man off of her. Juan rushed up, forgetting the cart to kneel next to Joan and look over her worriedly. "Jo- Cowboy!" Part of his janitor outfit came into play here, a hankerchief. He help it up, offering it to her, lightly cleaning blood away until she took it. "Are you alright?! "

"Ah'm fine," Joan panted, taking a couple breaths. "Ah just... Ah just imagined 'e were someone else, which is why 'e got dat far in da first place," She explained, taking the hankerchief from Juan and wiping her own face with it, pushing herself back to her feet. "Promise," She said with a reassuring half smile, looking at the guy and sighing. " 'onestly, I migh'ah enjoyed it in a different si'uation, wif anyone else," She half laughed, looking down the hall at the cart.

Juan nodded, still looking at her anxiously as he stood up. "Alright... we're good now, yes? You're alright? Good. Good. Let's get this shit done with."

Beatrix had walked up the hall, and was now pulling the cart down the hallway, hair askew. "You going to finish that guy off?" she asked, looking at the guard that was bleeding from the throat.

Juan looked around, and then looked down at the downed guard. He felt a rise of anger at the sight of him, who dared to touch his team, his family. A single round went into his chest, through a lung, another one to the head to finish the job. "Scumbag."

Joan walked over to the cart, digging into it as she looked at Juan. "My Spaniard, wif 'how angry ya are, ah'd fink you were a li'el jealous," She said, trying to lighten the mood as she pulled some quick to put on shorts and squeezed into them quickly, before pulling out her vest.

Juan seemed in very low spirits, putting his vest on and grabbing a larger weapon with a scowl plastered on his face. "I don't like scumbags touching my team. My team deserves better than the meat treatment."
 
"Don't worry, lover boy," Bee said, drapping Juan's combat vest on his shoulder. "Who knows? Maybe Joan was thinking about you during that." She gave him a wink and went back to the cart, leaning on it as she took off her boots.

"Ah," Joan said with a shrug. " 'o knows! Ah do like a man 'oo'll kill fer me," She said, doing the same in turn, then looking for her shoes. "S'pose 'oo it was will follah me to da grave. Maybe," She smiled, looking at Juan. "Are ya good? Ah know we're takin it light, but ya seem a bit shook up." She said, concern slipping into her light hearted tone.

Juan took a deep breath, and gave a half-hearted smile that didn't transalte into his eyes. "Yeah. I'm fine. Let's get the mission done, so we can get the hell out of this hell hole."

Joan nodded, wrapping the sling of one of the SMG's over her shoulder, then walking over to Juan, squeezing his shoulder with a hand. "Good," She said. "Ah dun fink we could do dis wifoutcha. Let's take it out on dem, yeah?" She asked, giving him a wink. "We're a'ead of schedule team, in da boss needs dis bitch alive. We are ta 'it em 'ard in fast. Use da music to yer advantage wif shots, in lets show em why crime don't pay, yeah?" She asked.

The corpses each had an orange band tied to one of their limbs, now soaked in blood. A familiar voice came through the comms. "This is Cobalt, I'm heading in right now. Are you all in position?"

"Ready to rock and roll, boss," Bee said, tightening her vest and checking her mags.

Juan felt the weapon in his hands, and nodded."It's showtime."

"I hope it wasn't too much trouble." Loud music roared in the background, then was quickly hushed with noise suppressors. "Stay in the club and brothel areas until you get a beeping alert, then move up into the employee restricted floor. Cobalt out."

"Kill security, secure civilians," Joan said, grabbing one of the bands from the guards and getting ready to stack up on the door. Once the rest of the team were on her, she opened the door, and were immediately struck with the pounding bass of the club music booming through the brothel, dry ice smoke and laser lights flashing in the dark room they rushed into. That was the difficulty. Hard to tell who was security and who was a civilian with all the destraction.

Joan lead the three into an unoccupied private booth, keeping an eye with the door slightly open. There was a strange moment, where nothing happened, and Joan raised a fist to get everyones attention, then lifting two fingers. No one said a word as Juan shifted up to the front, both mercs getting ready. the door opened, revealing a working girl and her customer, looking at the three like deer in the headlights as Joan and Juan grabbed them, covering their mouths and dragging them both into the booth with them. It was cramped, but even so Beatrix was able to help secure both civilians and gag them, keeping them out of the way as they waited for the signal to move.

It finally hit, and the three moved like water on ice, Juan shooting the guards outside the restricted access door to the beat of the song as Joan and Beatrix rushed up to silence the witnesses. Juan opened the door, and the three moved into the stairwell, keeping their weapons trained on their sightlines as they moved. When they finally got to the top, they swept through the first group of guards like a force of nature. There was barely any time to react, men fumbling for their weapons as they were gunned down.

There was an uneasy silence. A woman cowered near a couch, unarmed, looking at the three like she was about to scream. Joan had her weapon trained, but slowly lifted a finger giving the woman a chance to not blow the entire mission wide open leaving Eberhard in the thick of things. The girl jus nodded slowly, and Beatrix moved up to secure her as Juan moved to secure the door, waiting for the stack up.

Joan and Beatrix joined him quickly, and Joan lifted three fingers, dropping one, then the second, before opening the door, breaching the office.

Eberhard sat in a simple but stylish rolley chair, his hands raised, staring down a gun barrel. The seat on the opposite side of the office table was empty. Instead, a woman was standing on the same side as Eberhard wielding said firearm. Brown hair, green eyes. Edith Dussault.

"Figured you'd come to my rescue sooner than later." There was a drop of sweat rolling down Eberhard's chin, but he otherwise kept up an unphazed look. Meanwhile, the woman was wide-eyed and turned her gaze away from him and to the sudden intruders, long enough for Eberhard to bat her hand off to the side of his head and snatch the pistol with his other free hand. He then stood up and aimed at Edith. "Now then, Ms. Dussault, keep your mouth shut and we won't get messy."

Joan ran up rather fast actually, grabbing the target and throwing her to the ground with entirely too much force, securing her for transport as she looked up at Eberhard with and intense glare. "Remind me tah kill 'er when I sees her," She said simply, gagging the target, then wrapping her head in a black canvas bag.

Eberhard gave an apologetic chuckle. "Rhodium (Ulrike) defenitley owes you a drink. Did you guys bring chloroform or something to knock her out?"

"Ah've got shorts in a vest on Cobalt," Joan growled "Ya dun know da 'alf of it."

"And I'm not going to find out the rest. Rhodium would kill me if I tried."

"Oh ya finks das 'ow yer gittin outta dis?" Joan asked, throwing Edith at Juan so she slid across the floor. "You finks yer just gonna run like dat? Me and da 'eam 'ad tah wear da fakking fings, ya can at least look at what she 'ad us wear," Joan said, scowl on her face as she undid the velcrow of her vest and showed him how little Ulrike gave her to wear. "Yer wife... 'ad me wear dese." Joan said, staring at Eberhard.

Eberhard's lighter attitude faded, a small smile replaced with a frown of his own. "Cowboy." He said in a low voice. "Get your damn vest back on and get ready to move. I won't tolerate hissy fits in the middle of a mission. If you want to complain, do it after all's said and done. And this will be the last time you mention my relationships in these situations. Am I understood?"

It only took Joan a second to put her vest back as she shook her head. "Keep yer knickers on Cobal', if'n dis is inexcusable on mission we'll keep e'ryfing to ourselves" She said, looking at Juan and pointing at the target. "Sir, ya care tah carry 'er? Or shall I?"

Juan looked down at the target and lifted her over his shoulder. "Professionalism, and discretion. Let's keep it to that, and get out before more mooks show up and have to die." Juan held a pistol in one hand, captive over his shoulder, and nodded to the door. "Let's vamanos."

"Right, Cobal', you kin stay behind us," Joan ordered, taking the lead with Beatrix and beginning down the hallway. Juan and Eberhard followed close behind. Sticking to employee-only corridors and staying close to the walls, the team went relatively unnoticed before Juan unceremoniously threw Edith into a garbage bin and wheeled it out through the backdoor.

"Rhodium, this is Cobalt." Eberhard tapped his earpiece as the team fast-walked down the hallway. "We secured the prize."

"Roger that, Cobalt. I'll inform the police now of any new calls going their way." Ulrike replied, only audible to the team.

"Affirmative, Cobalt out."
 
Edith slowly came to her senses. Her head was pounding, and she wanted to throw up. She couldn't see anything with a cover over her eyes. Was she still in the Spaceport? There were a few people standing besides her, she felt that for sure. In a vain act of defiance, Edith growled in a French accent. "I don't know who you are, but you're fucking with the wrong person. You have no idea what you're dealing with."

"Oh, ah finks we 'ave an idea love," One voice said, a hand grabbing her shoulder and squeezing. "Ah didn't fink she was gone be a frog dough," She added, letting go.

Juan was standing nearby, a look of angry death on his eyes, his face covered, as he watched. "Little froggy should know she's out of friends to protect her pretty face here."

"Careful now Spaniard," The womans voice said, as the blindfold was removed, leaving Edith looking at three people wearing combat suits. Two of them with the hard helmets, one with just a balclava on, letting her see his eyes. "We're 'ere ta 'ave a chat wif our guest," One of the fully armoured ones said. She was sitting right across from her. " 'opefully she dun make mah job too 'ard, eh?" She asked, a smile to her voice.

"Your lady friend's right, you know, 'Spaniard'." Edith replied, looking straight at Juan. "Judging by your accent you really are one." She licked her lips. "I bet you have a hot body as well. What pushed you into the kidnapping business? I bet you'd earn a fine wage working instead at my place."

Juan leaned closer, a leer reaching his eyes. "Right on both counts. But that's not nearly as fun as this. My origin is unimportant, what's important is," he pokes a finger at her throat. "How much you value that pretty neck."

Edith responded by spitting right in Juan's eyes. "Pendejo, if you wanted me dead you would've done it back at my place. No, you want information from me. You'd lose if I died."

Juan blinked it away and shook his head. "So fiesty. So fiery. We don't want to kill you. Dying is too easy an out," he began to circle her, "and death is not the only suffering."

"Now now," Joan said, holding up her hand. She leaned forward, but all Edith could see was the dark faceplate. "Now, dere is chance ya kin walk outta 'ere. Right out dat door," She said, pointing at one of the hatches. "No one'll stop ya," She explained, sidling up. "But ya gotta work wif me," She said. "Now. Tell ya what. Ah won't hit cha, but if ah take mah 'elmet off, you gotta promise tah finish wif dat spi'in. Den we's kin 've a chat. Ah might even let yer move yer 'and about. 'ave we got a deal?" She asked, leaning back in her chair.

"Sure," Edith said. "As long as you stop the vulture here acting like he found a piece of meat. I mean, I'd gladly be the meat for someone else, but the Spaniard here really isn't my type at the end. No offence, but really offence."

"Ah fink 'e can agree to dat," Joan offered, looking at Juan. "Take a step back. We kin git dis done, no one 'as tah be 'urt."

Juan chuckled darkly. "I prefer stronger women anyway. More of a tussle." He walked, his boots thunking heavily on the ground, and stood behind Cowboy, eyes watching like a hawk.

Joan let out a sigh, reaching up and unclipping her helmet. She pulled it off, and set it on the ground next to her, looking Edith in the eye. "See? Woman of me word," She said, brushing some hair out ofo her face. "So, Edif, mah name is Joan," She said simply. "Ah jus' need tah know bout da weapons. Now da deal is, ya talk wif me, play nice, and e'ryone gits tah go 'ome in one peice. Where da weapons are goin, 'oo's movin em, so on," She said crossing her arms. "Da more truf ya give, da more ah let cha go," She offered, pulling out a pack of smokes. "Do ya smoke?"

Edith ignored the question, instead wolf-whistled. "Wow. I'm not a lesbian, but if I was, I'd defenitley hire you. Your facial features... they're so sharp, just a touch up here and there, then click!" She gave a hard wink. "You'd be a celebrity." The wink wasn't just for show. Her contacts had a small camera that sent Joan's image to implanted cybernetics.

Joan smiled nodding her head. "Ah apprecia'e da complimen' Edif. Maybe if'n ah 'ad less shame, ah'd take ya up on dat offah," Joan said, leaning forward and untying one of Edith's hands. She then leaned back, placing a smoke between her lips, and lighting it, offering the pack to the french woman. "Ah'm not try'n ta git DNA or Nuffing. Ah want'cha to know ah'm not looking tah 'urt ya. Just wanna talk," She said.

Edith in turn examined the pack, then pushed it away. "No thanks, I do injects. You're from Earth, aren't you? Boundless skies, all the millions of cubic meters of air to pollute away. To be honest," She clenched her teeth. "You planet-dwellers disgust me."

"Ah am," Joan smiled, nodding her head. "London, born in bred. Ah'm sad tah 'ear we disgust ya. Bu' ah git it," She said, looking at Edith. "We're glu;onous. Dun 'precia'e wha' we've gots, hmm?" She asked. " 'ell, ah know dis'll do a number to da ship's air filtahs," She said, presenting the smoke. "Would'cha ravver me not? Ah 'aven't 'ad a smoke in a while, so ah was 'opin ah could 'ave one whif ya."

"No thanks, unlike you criminals, I at least have principles." Edith jabbed back. "Weapons you say? I know nothing of it."

"Edif..." Joan sighed, shaking her head. "Ah told cha not tah lie tah me..." She said softly, taking another haul from her smoke.

"I'm not lying." Edith hissed, leaning forward. "You were lying. Your friend, wherever the hell he's now, told me of a business opportunity. Next thing I know, you bust in and kidnap me!"

Joan nodded her head. "Sticking wif dat?" She asked, keeping her eyes locked on Edith's. "Tell me. What's yer least favorite fingah?" As if they had planned it, a blade slipped right from Juan's belt into his hands, shining and cold.

"Pinky," Edith said, a smile crossing her features.
 
Joan nodded, looking impressed. "That was quick. I fought ya would pick da ring fingah. A 'ore dun need it, but she needs da grip o da pinky dah do 'er job," She said, looking at Juan. "Well, ya 'eard 'er."

"You're not going to touch me," Edith said, looking at Juan. "Unless the police no longer think civilians have rights. You don't have nothing on me," She growled.

Juan approached her, and looked her in the eyes. "Then maybe you should back that up with some very good reasons to be on our good side." Juan took her hand, gripping it in a vice like grip as he brought the sharp instrument to her pinky, and sliced along it. He kept looking at her as he cut it, before actually using his strength to lower her amount of digits. The moment he did, she screamed, trying to kick out. He didn't care. He had done as he was trained to do, to squash a piece of humanity to get the job done.

Joan leaned forward, grabbing Edith's jaw and making whore queen look her in the eye. "Ah dun remember telling ya we're cops," Joan said, her tone dry and expression steeled. "Did ah say we were coppahs?"

"You, BITCH!" Edith growled, tears flowing down her face. "You must've killed a lot of people in your pathetic life. I know a military tool when I see one."

"Yer right," Joan said, no emotion on her face. "Ah 'ave killed a lotta folk. But Ah'm trying tah be fair wif ya. Ah told cha not tah lie, and ya lied. Ya lef' me no choice," She said, throwing her head back and leaning back, taking another haul from her smoke. "Tie 'er 'and back up Spaniard. Let's try dis again, maybe she'll understand dah rules now," She said, crossing her legs.

"If you spent such a grand old time in the military, then what are you doing out here interrogating civvies? What, they couldn't pay enough to keep your fatass falling down in one-g?!" Edith protested as Juan secured her free hand back.

"Tell me about da weapons," Joan said simply, holding her gaze. "Ah know yer involved. Ah know yer lyin. "Ovahwise, we're gonna 'ave tah take yer next leas' favori'e fingah." She threatened.

"Go ahead." Edith steeled herself. "Once I get out of here, I'll just get nice prosthetic ones, then rip apart this sorry band of yours. And you know I'-" She said, before Joan stood up, jamming the end of her cigarette into Edith's eye and holding it there as she screamed. Joan then toppled over the chair with her in it, and stood over the woman, kneeling down to practically sit on her.

"Ah said," Joan growled, flipping the chair so Edith was on her back with Joan sitting on her legs. "Tell me bout da weapons, er yer not gonna git outta 'ere. 'Ave ah made meself clear?" She asked, expression unwaivering.

"You said you were going to cut off my finger..." Edith whimpered, now half blind.

"And ya seemed pretty content wif dat idea," Joan said, looking down at the woman. "Now... Unless ya wan' tah 'ave tah git all sorts ah robobits, ah would stop yellin dat yer not in a 'ole 'eap of shite," Joan said sternly. "Ya keep lyin tah meh, ah kin tell ya, yer chances of leavin dis room are bout as likely as ya swimming back tah earf from 'ere. We done wif da games?" Joan asked.

"Okay, okay..." She mumbled, "I'm just a middleman, I don't know where they come from or where they go. All I get are times, shipments, and thugs to pick them up."

"Den you 'ave somefing useful tah trade fer yer life," Joan said, getting up, lighting another smoke, and picking the chair back up. "See 'ow fings get bettah when ya tell da truf?" She asked, slipping out another smoke. "Second chances, les try in start again eh? We sit down, 'ave a chat, in ah offah ya a smoke. Deal?" She asked, sitting back in her own chair. Edith only nodded in response.

"Good girl," Joan said, placing the smoke between Edith's lips and lighting it, then tussling her hair comfortingly. "Now. We 'ad yer personal computers picked up. Where do da transactions 'appen? When is da next shipmen'?" She asked.

"In three (Earth) days. My men are supposed to meet them at the docks. Port 5-4, to be specific. That's it! I swear to our ancestors, now please don't hurt me anymore!" Edith cried.

Joan nodded her head. "Port 5-4," She said. "Free days," She said, drawing her own knife and cutting Edith's hands free. Then moving to her feet, and cutting those free. "See, was dat so 'ard?" She asked, standing up and stepping to the side.

Edith could barely stand, one hand covering the bleeding one, and staggered forward with one eye open. She made a few steps towards the door, then turned around, looking doubtful. "You're just going to let me go? You knew about it, didn't you?" She started shaking.

Joan sighed, nodding her head. "Ah 'ad a feelin," She said, drawing her pistol and shooting Edith in the head. She stood there for a moment, before throwing up herself, dropping her gun and falling to the floor. Somewhere in the body, a small transponder tried to send one last signal through the impervious hull of the frigate, before it died along side the weapons dealer.

Juan put the knife away, and went to kneel next to her. He awkwardly sat there, not sure whether he would be allowed to give her a hug or not. He sighed, the hardass in his eyes fading back into Joan, and his head hung sadly. "I'm sorry you had to do that. I'm so so sorry."

Joan just leaned over and wrapped her arms around Juan, shaking. "Ah'm not crazy ah swear," She whispered, her grip tightening. "She 'ad somefing on us, ah..." She choked up, going silent again.

Juan held her tightly, shushing her. "I know, and I know that you're aware it will never feel like you did the right thing, but it was the necessary thing. You're not crazy at all, you're not some sick monster, you did what you had to. I'm sorry it came to it. I should have pulled the trigger myself." Juan felt a minute amount of tears in his eyes, holding her close. "You're a good person Joan."

Joan shook her head. "Dat would 'ave been worse," She said, leaning back again. "She didn't deserve dat... God she didn't deserve dat," She muttered, getting to her feet again. "Ah need a showah... And so much alcohol..." She whispered heading to the door.

Eberhard opend it, almost bumping into Joan. "I heard gun-" He saw the corpse, Joan's somber look, and Juan still on the floor. "You can debrief me later. Anything you need from me right now?"

"Check 'er body..." Joan said, leaning on the wall. "In please tell me ya fin somfing dat woulda compromised us..." She said, pushing past Eberhard and walking down the hall.

Juan stood up, saying nothing, and pulled he balaclava from his face, dropping it to the floor like a used rag. Juan stared at the knife he'd used, and sighed heavily, a growl from deep in his throat cutting through it. "I'm not cut out for this civvie killing shit." Juan stormed out of the room, back to his own room, to lock the door and stare at his wall with his posters for games, from books, torn out of travel brochures for some scenery. Pirates are easy to kill. Guards, not as much but still doable. It comes down to survival, it's you or them. That's what made killing easy for so long, was the knowledge that if you didn't kill them first, they'd kill you. This wasn't survival. This was an execution. And Juan hated himself for taking part.

End.
 
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