Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Hade's Labyrinth

Saarai

Saarai

Lord of Bondage and Pain
Benefactor
as written by Saarai

John screamed himself awake, shocked by his sudden existence in the world of the living. He remembered everything that happened to him. Everything that happened around him. He just couldn't remember how he had gotten into the medical facility he found himself in. There he sat in a hospital bed and a hospital gown, machines all around him making noise and the smell that only a hospital could have. He survived?

No. He was tough, but he wasn't like Anodyne, or Yukiko, or any of those types of people. He'd been saved. Someone arrived in the nick of time. Likely the Invictus. John tried to stand, but once his feet hit the ground he noticed that they didn't work. Muscle atrophy. It was the first time he ever experienced it. He was in a coma. Had to be why he didn't remember being taken to a doctor.

The young man laid himself back down into the bed, opting not to take any chances until he was fully healed.He waited for nearly an hour for a doctor or a nurse, a friend to come and see him. Phinx, Kazen, Fatin. Someone. They never came. There were no windows in the hospital room. He didn't know if it was night or day. Maybe it wasn't time for visits, he thought. That was until the door to the room began to open.

"They said you had awoken." A familiar man's voice said to John. The bedridden man sat up, uneasy because the voice belonged to a man he hoped he would never see until again alive or outside of a cage. In stepped a tall man dressed in a dark blue suit and long coat. Stoic was the best description of his facial expression, or lack of, as he approached John.

The man, Lochlyn Haley, was a killer, a terrorist, madman. John preferred to have nothing to do with him. He no longer had a choice.

"You my not be able to speak very well or loudly. All you have to do is listen. Your friends. Your allies. They've set back my plans in a few unexpected ways. They revealed me. They escaped me. They keep my children from me." Lochlyn said, "In the past..." He began, only to pause and lower his eyes to the floor. "In the past, I have tried to reason with people. To change hearts and minds with just words alone. Words, apparently, were my gift." He continued.

Lochlyn brought his gaze back to John, inching closer and closer to him with each word. "I have seen things in this world and others that mortal men only dream of. Gods, death, Heaven, Hell. I have been a king, I have been a slave, I have been a soldier, I have been a commander. One thing I have neever been is who I am. Who I really am. Lochlyn Haley is sixty-five years old. Elias Crowley is thirty-seven. The man I was before both, he would be ninety by now."

"The point I'm making is that I have been in this existence for much longer than anyone, anything, else and I have learned that sometimes you have to be someone different to get things done. You are not John Izumi. You are his clone. One of many. But, you are the first. You can not be John Izumi. You have to be someone different. You will be someone different. You have kept his memories, his feelings, his skills, his knowledge. Do you wonder why?" The ancient man asked of 'John'.

'John' nodded, a look of despair obscuring his previously relieved face.

"Because, I need you to kill them all. His friends. His family. His allies. The Invictus. And then kill more for me. And then, when it's all over, you can live a normal life." Lochlyn told the young man before he began to walk towards the exit.

"I can't wait to see you die." 'John' told Lochlyn as the man left the room.
 
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as written by Saarai and Calcos

The stolen jeeps made their approach on the once abandoned military basd, Fort Promo, slowly. The base's security personnel, all dressed in the signature blue jumpsuits and armor of the Jupiter Corporation, were ready for a fight. One of them aiming a sniper rifle down from the only standing guard tower.

Hesh, seated in one of the vehicles, stood up and waved. He was flagging down the security to make sure he and his remaining comrades weren't turned into Swiss cheese.

"Friendlies!" A guard shouted, the others quickly standing down. "Open the gate." He said, the front gate to the base sliding open.

"I don't know if you'll be allowed into the Labyrinth. Crowley isn't fond of new faces he doesn't know if he can trust. Especially mercs like us." Hesh told Thalgan as they entered the base. "Our loyalty tends to be with money."

____

Thalgan gave a slight nod in agreement, keeping his eyes ahead as he scanned his surroundings. "As long as I'm paid what I'm owed, my loyalty won't be in question," he said with finality as the jeep pulled forward.

His palms itched, ready to receive the money he had fought so valiantly to earn. He held up his end of the bargain, and it was time to reap the rewards.

"Any idea what they'll do with Fatin?" he asked, more curious than concerned.

____

"My guess? " Hesh asked rhetorically as the jeep came to a stop outside of a large hangar, "They'll use her for a suicide mission or ambush." He answered, hopping out of the vehicle. "It's their MO. Disruption, chaos, creating opportunities to be seized. Guerrilla warfare on several levels." He continued.

"Imagine what you could do with the head of an organization like the Invictus with the right leverage."

"A lot." Andarta said, stepping out of a door connected to the hangar. In her hand she held a small computer, "For you." She said to Thalgan, holding it out to the Mandalorian. "Enter your account information and desired currency, my employer will handle the rest."

____

Thalgan took the device in hand, mentally calculating the expenses. Factoring in the price on the respective targets' heads, expended resources, labor, and Arrora's cut, the final number came out in the high millions, which the Mandalorian punched in before handing the device back to Andarta.

"So...what now?" he asked.

____

"We'll worry about that. Or, my employer will. I just handle the mercenaries and bounty hunters." Andarta told Thalgan. "Actually, we could use you to meet up with Hannibal and the kid. Assist them with a trade." The blue-haired woman said, stroking her bare chin in thought.

"Yeah. You'd be good for this if you don't mind travelling to Van Leugen on Valore." She told the Mandalorian mercenary.

"You don't mind, do you? You can take Hesh."

____

Thalgan didn't need to think twice about the offer; more money was on the table for him to grab, so he would grab it. "Just tell me where I need to go," he said slowly.

____

"There's a dive bar down in Van Leugen. Not sure what it's called. Anyways, there's going to be a man there. His name is Hannibal, and he's going to be putting some things in motion. He could use skilled mercenaries for that and protection." Andarta informed Thalgan, "It's why I was sending Hesh and his team."

She nodded towards Hesh, the man responding with one of his own. It was clear that Andarta and Hesh were close friends, though probably not lovers. They just went back a very long time.

"Be careful, Valore is not what it used to be. A lot of chaos and we're helping that. Unfortunately, disorder doesn't care for allegiance. Nor do the local factions, or gangs, or would-be do-gooders." Andarta added, "Hannibal will fill you in on the rest."
 
as written by Saarai

Lochlyn sat behind his desk quietly, eyes watching the holographic display showing a laboratory. Locked onto a table was Fatin Alfarsi, leader of the Invictus. She was all alone, struggling to break free from the metal cuffs keeping her down. It was a futile effort on her part.

"Orders, sir?" A man asked over an intercom, "Clone her? Kill her?" He asked, but Lochlyn didn't answer immediately. He just stoically watched the mercenary leader squirm.

"Break her." He said, "Use electricity. Prods, mostly." Lochlyn ordered, almost immediately several men barged into the lab and released Fatin from the table. They dragged the woman out despite her attempts to fight back.

The image changed to show what was clearly a torture chamber, the men throwing Stryfe down on the ground before leaving. Seconds later a new group of people entered.

They began to poke her with electrified prods, the woman crawling to get away. She scrambled to her feet, ready to fight off her captors. That was until one of them rushed her and slammed a taser into the woman's side.

The volts of electricity were more than enough to send Stryfe reeling and eventually slamming back down onto the ground.

"Continue." Lochlyn ordered, watching and listening. Never reacting to Fatin's pained screams.
 
as written by Saarai

Fatin sat with her back against the cold wall of the room she had been isolated in. Her jumpsuit torn and even burned in some places. Her ankle had been wrapped up in a cast, something she found unusual about her captors. They were allowing her to heal.

Her guess was so that she would last longer while they tortured her. While they tried to break her. She wouldn't break easily, that wasn't in her character to be broken down so easily.

The door to the room open slowly, Fatin scrambling to her feet to try to put up a fight. Her first balled and she took on a typical Sambo stance.

In came her adoptive brother, John, the young man donning a Jupiter Corporation jumpsuit and his crimson trench coat right over it. He actively avoided eye contact with the woman, not even uttering a word to acknowledge her.

"John? You're here?" She asked, though the man remained silent. And then in walked the man in charge.

Lochlyn took deliberate steps to enter the room, his blue suit pressed and clean as it often was. "You are not easy. You are stubborn, determined, and you stay true to your convictions." He said to Fatin.

"In another life you would have been good for the cause."

"You're crazy. You murder people for nothing." Fatin retorted, "As do you. Money means nothing. It's love that is the most valuable currency in the world. You are a good person, yet you work as a soldier of fortune. For what?" Lochlyn asked.

"The people you work for see you as nothing but tools. The people you defend see you as nothing but opportunistic mercenaries. Your people see conflict in you. Straddling the line between stalwart defender and businesswoman."

"You can never be both, but you can be better. You can save the universe from itself. Join me and become change. Or die with the rest." He said, approaching Fatin.

"Fuck off." She responded.

"You will join me when you have nothing left. John. Go. Kill your father."

John nodded, turning to leave the room. "John! Stop!" Fatin shouted, "You will join me." Lochlyn repeated.
 
as written by Saarai

It was hard to keep track of the hours, the distance traveled, or anything else when you were on a spaceship with a superhuman you were trying to keep asleep.

Right in the cargo bay was Anodyne, her body suspended in a clear box. The woman was being kept sedated, tubes running into the box pumping in chemicals to keep her from waking up and ruining the plan.

"Touching down." The pilot's voice said over the intercom.

Bay doors opened in the desert below the ship, hidden by the sand from outsiders. The ship made it's descent down into the secret hangar carefully.

"We've arrived." The pilot said, the ship finally coming to a stop. It's doors opened up, the mercenaries wasting no time in getting off the ship.

When the cargo bay opened a woman donning an eye obscuring visor stood silently, several other men and women flanking her.

Her hair was brown, yet still had a subtle hint of blue left in it. A dye process that wasn't completed just yet.

"Get the prize." She ordered, several of her people moving to grab Anodyne.

"Where's the freelancer?" She asked, clearly searching for the hired hand that was Alexander.
 
as written by Gideon

Alexander stirred uncomfortably, body groaning against the position it had taken while he slept. An announcement several hours earlier had alerted him of the vessel's impending arrival at its destination. Exhausted from the job which he had undertaken and the subsequent lack of sleep as he took care of his equipment and continued training, analyzing the mistakes he had made after the battle, Alexander had decided to take a nap in the time it would take to arrive.

The booming announcement woke him. Or maybe it simply appeared to boom. Whatever the noise's strength, it was annoying. He didn't like waking up except on his own terms. Perhaps he should have slept at the start of the trip rather than at the end. Much more accommodating. Had he eaten?

Shaking his head, Alexander hopped off the bunk and landed deftly on the metal floor of the ship, stretching his muscles before collecting his equipment, not that there was much to organize. Into a duffel bag went his rail rifle and spare clothing, as well as spare parts, ammunition, and two worn books. Physical books appeared rather rarely in this world of technology.

Over his shoulder swung the bag, settling against his back with a small thump. Knives already sheathed on his suit, Alexander picked up another bag that contained his exo-suit, a rather heavy contraption yet nothing impossible to carry. Perhaps he should have worn it rather than stow it away.

Shrugging, he strode towards the cargo bay with both duffel bags, one slung over his shoulder and the other in his right hand. Automatic doors opened ahead of him and he stepped into the space, starting at the clear box which contained- or rather had contained-Anodyne, that mysterious target which he had assisted capturing.

Gaze swung around the room until he spotted the group of operatives escorting Anodyne out of the ship. A visored woman stood in the entrance of the cargo bay, bearing herself with an aura of command. Deciding she would do to figure out what to do next, Alexander walked over to the woman, setting down the bag in his right hand as he reached her. Making a short bow, he spoke, "Greetings. I am Alexander Meronin. Are you the one I should speak to for future jobs and/or accommodation?"
 
as written by Saarai

"I am." The woman told Alexander, "My name is Andarta. I'll be handling you. It's what I get paid for." Andarta informed the man, her look and the look of her own operatives indicating that they were mercenaries as well.

Paid to assist the Jupiter Corporation in their endeavors whatever they may be.

"You're a very rich man once the payment goes through." She said to Alexander, "This is a highly sought after target. I'm not sure why. But, my employer is willing to pay a lot."

One of Andarta's soldiers approached Alexander, a portable computer in hand. He held out to him, opening it up to display a page linking to some sort of bank account.

"Enter the relevant information, including what currency you want transferred to an account or region, and you'll be paid soon." Andarta said, "And then we can discuss more work."
 
as written by Calco, Gideon, and Saarai

He stepped off the Wings of Destiny, a ship that had become his home as of late. They arrived at around the same time as the Jupiter Corporation's ship; the Mandalorian was there to collect his paycheck for his work in Volary. Veshi and Arrora followed behind as he descended the loading ramp, the man's immense frame towering far over those of his new companions, even with Thalgan wearing his armor.

He was able to spot Andarta quickly, taking note of the new hair she sported. He approached, a grin plastered on his face as he removed his helmet. "The new color suits you," he said, referring to the disastrous nest of brown and blue that her hair had become.

Looking over, he saw the man she was currently speaking with; he was utilizing a datapad for payment information. Thalgan sized him up, taking in his presence with cold calculation. "New guy, huh? Here's hoping you last."

He cast his gaze back to Andarta. "You know what I'm here for," he said expectantly, "And if you need anything else, just point me in the right direction."

____

Alexander nodded softly as Andarta explained her role in the Jupiter Corporation's operations and then had a man present him with a data pad on which to enter his information. "I appreciate the generosity of your employer, Miss Andarta. Perhaps I would be able to utilize some-"

His voice cut out as another man approached, removing a helmet to reveal a grinning face. From the form with which he addressed Andarta, Alexander guessed that this man had worked with the woman for some time and could avoid serious repercussions from his behavior. As the unknown person sized him up, Alexander returned the inspection. Who could this man be?

A short laugh barked out upon the unknown individual's statement. So the Jupiter Corps was this kind of an outfit, was it? He should have expected such a reaction from an operative in a mercenary organization; many mercenary bands were rather distrusting of the abilities of new members given they could not be accurately judged without being sent out on a contract.

"I appreciate the concern but I assure you it isn't needed," Alexander chuckled after the man finished speaking to Andarta. "Perhaps we'll have time to become better acquainted someday." With that statement, Alexander returned to the data pad, filling out the necessary information, namely placing several different holding accounts for different currencies on the list. One never could be too safe, especially with money. Some would be a bit more problematic to access quickly if not in the region where it was utilized, but it gave him options.

Handing the slate back to the worker who had originally brought it, Alexander stood waiting.

____

Andarta looked to Thalgan, offering him a nod in greeting as he spoke. "Sometimes you need a little change." She told him before returning her attention back to Alexander.

"I do have something in mind for you. A band of marauders have been getting too close to here. That compromises my-... our operations here." She told him, "There's also many innocent people that will suffer if we're forced to leave here."

Andarta pointed at Alexander, "This isn't the usual kind of mercenary work with the usual kind of mercenary pay. You'll be doing good, saving lives, believe it or not."

"There's this god called Karma that I've heard about in my travels. Do good and Karma rewards you. Or something." Andarta said, making a point to sell Alexander on the job.

She wasn't sure what kind of man he was just yet, so the hard sell was the best option.

As she awaited his response, one of her people approached Thalgan. "Now that we know you've made it back alive, we went ahead and transferred your money. But, Crowley wants to have a word."

____

The Mandalorian nodded, turning back to where Arrora and Veshi stood. "Guess I'll be back in a bit," he said, turning back to the other mercenary. He made a motion with his hand, placing it out in front of him. "Lead on," he said flatly.

____

Alexander poked a toe at the duffel bag on the ground, trying to remember which one it was. Not that it mattered entirely at the moment. Oh well. Turning his attention back to Andarta, he began to listen to the offer which was presented to him.

A smile tinged his lips and he suppressed chuckles which attempted to escape his lips. This woman was attempting to convince him to do a job for less pay. Something he was used to and would often accept. It was simply the awkwardness with which she tried to present the job which amused him.

Glancing aside, he watched a man come up to the other mercenary and speak briefly before being led away. A busy enough place. Coughing first to clear any laughs hiding within his body, Alexander quoth, "But of course, Madame Andarta. 'Tis important to save the women and children, as always. It is something that any gallant man would do without thought of recompense. I am not gallant. I'll do your job, Miss Andarta, but I still want a bit of pay. Nothing special. Hell, give me nothing but room and board for a night. My pay doesn't need to be great but I do need it.

____

"Not a bleeding heart, I see." Andarta said, "They've set up camp out in the desert. Not far, I'll give you the coordinates soon." She told Alexander, "You'll be paid, plus you'll get room and board. I make sure there's enough room for freelancers."

"The Corporation's goons don't need to have all of the perks." She said, gesturing towards a door on the other side of the hangar. "Follow Thalgan here and my man. At least so you know where the civilian side is."

"I'll make sure you get a room. Vehicles are surface level, you'll be shown the elevators should you need a ride that suits you." She added.

"This way." Andarta's mercenary said, beckoning Thalgan and Alexander to follow him as he crossed the hangar.

"Crowley's office isn't far from the living space, so I'll knock out two birds with one stone." He told the men.

____

Alexander grinned cheesily at Andarta while she walked, content with himself and still amused at the attempt which she had made to convince him to work for free. He would oblige her one day but today wasn't it. He desired a nice base of cash upon which he could rely upon. And free dwellings. He was touchy about where he slept.

"Many thanks, my lady," Alexander spouted, making yet again a mocking bow. "Until we meet again." With that, he turned towards the Jupiter Corps mercenary Andarta had motioned forward, picking up his one bag on the floor and motioning the man to lead one with his other hand.
 
as written by Saarai and Calcos

Andarta's operative led the two men into the facility, an elevator not far from the entrance taking them down into the lower levels. The walls were glass, showing those on the elevator everything in the underground base. But as it descended lower and lower the facility began to change.

It stopped being a military base and became an underground city. Men, women, and children going about their daily lives to keep the place functioning.

Andarta was being truthful when she said there were many lives to be lost if the city was discovered. Not that she cared, personally. Her money was at stake most of all.

"Here." The operative said, stepping off of the elevator when it came to a stop. "Crowley's office is at the end of the hall. You can't miss it." He told Thalgan, "You, with me." He said to Alexander.

____

Thalgan nodded, stepping off of the lift and making his way down the hall. He was calm, collected, striding with purpose, his armored boots hitting the floor and reverberating a series of thuds off of the walls. He approached the office door, reading the name scrawled in bold black font across a frosted, translucent glass pane.

Taking a deep breath, the Mandalorian offered a series of sharp, concise knocks, awaiting a response from the other side.

____

The door swung open to reveal a simple office filled with antiquities from places both familiar and unknown. A treasure trove that displayed the long and eventful life that Elias Crowley lived.

"Enter." Said the man who opened the door. He was a tall man dressed in dark blue suit, his hulking physique barely hidden beneath it. His expression was stoic as he eyeballed Thalgan.

"I am Lochlyn Haley." He said, carrying a distinct Londoner accent. "I lead the Jupiter Corporation. I am it's founder. Unfortunately, Mr. Crowley is currently suffering from his old age. You'll be speaking to me instead." He told the mercenary.

"On his behalf, of course."

____

The Mandalorian perked up as the man introduced himself as the top boss of the entire Jupiter Corporation. Entering the room as he was instructed, he stood opposite the desk that sat nearby, not daring to take a seat until he was instructed to; not that, under normal circumstances, he wouldn't do as he pleased, but he was in the presence of the owner whilst on his property, so he figured a little courtesy could go a long way to keep him from staining his reputation. Or getting him killed.

One could never be too careful around Lochlyn's type.

"I was told to make an appearance here?" Thalgan said, wondering exactly what it was he was needed so far down the line for. He awaited a response, rigid and attentive, careful to listen closely to what words came next.

____

"You were." Lochlyn answered, shutting the door to the office. "Crowley wanted to, as far as I was told, enlist you in making contact with the local government and integrating our city here into it." Lochlyn told the Mandalorian.

"I want that to happen as well, but the government here is ran by tyrants, an aristocracy who reminds people of their rule through force." He said, "There's a place I have been to a long time ago where such a thing was done. It resulted in the aristocrats being beheaded by the people they oppressed." He continued.

Lochlyn slowly walked over to the desk, though he refrained from taking a seat behind it.

"I have arranged a party. All of the tyrants will be there. Kill them all." Lochlyn said to Thalgan. "They love to keep their affairs private, so no one will stop you inside. I have also made arrangements for the law to be... preoccupied."

"Take whomever you need and get it done."

____

Thalgan contemplated on a general plan of attack for a brief moment before casting his eyes into those of Lochlyn's. "Where do I need to be?" he asked. He was quite certain the payday on this particular endeavor would be more than worth the effort and resources he would expend in order to get it done.

All he needed was a definite target.

____

"Aether City. It's north of here." Lochlyn told Thalgan, "Security is going to be tight. There was a terrorist attack some weeks ago. Just tell them, anyone who stops you, that you're there for Crowley." He continued.

"They should take you where you need to go. After that things should be very straightforward. Just eliminate them all and leave. No survivors."

____

He nodded in understanding, wasting no time formulating a plan in his head. He'd need a team, supplies, extra munitions perhaps. Transportation would likely be a non-issue, but he would procure some vehicles just in case.

Finally, he raised his head, looking at Lochlyn from across the room. "I can get started immediately," he said blandly.

____

"Good." He said, turning to grab one of the trinkets on Crowley's desk. It was a crucifix pendant colored in red, black and green. "You may go now. Report back here as soon as possible." Lochlyn told Thalgan, carefully examining the crucifix.
 
as written by Gideon

Alexander stared through the glass as the elevator descended into the subterranean depths of the massive facility on Hera Prime. Eyes scanned the features, impressed at the scope of the operation carried on beneath the earth, merely because humans usually preferred to be above ground. Then again, human adaptability proved itself worthy of admiration and study time and again.

Stepping out of the elevator alongside the corporation operative and the unknown mercenary, Alexander watched the mercenary head off towards an office before returning his attention to the man with him. "Lead on," he stated, following the man afterwards.
 
as written by Saarai

"Your quarters will be here for now." The operative told Alexander, gesturing him towards one of the rooms. "Use it for as long as you need. Be it days, weeks, months, or mere hours. It belongs to you until you move on from this planet." He said.

"Or die. This line of work is dangerous."
 
as written by Gideon

Alexander set his bags down outside the room which the operative had indicated, taking time to study the door. The little of it that there was to study. Opening the door, he transitioned from light to darkness, shuddering as a chill shot through him upon entering. Slinging the bags of his body, he activated the lights before popping his head out the doorway.

"Excuse me, but does the room lock in any fashion? Other than that, I'm settled. Should I go see someone about work?"
 
as written by Saarai and Calcos

Hannibal stood in the hangar, watching as a ship came to descend in front of him. The man watched stoically as the passengers on the ship began to disembark, they were the crew and one blue-haired woman wearing an opaque visor over her eyes.

"Welcome back." Hannibal said to the woman, "Glad to be back and be blue. What did I miss?" She asked, "We went forward, Crowley made his move using that mercenary." Hannibal told the woman, "If you want, you can go visit Lochlyn in Aether City, Andarta. He's playing the role of king."

"What does that make you?" Andarta asked Hannibal, "A chevalier, I assume. I've always been partial to them." He answered.

____

The Wings of Destiny swooped into the Labyrinth's hangar, settling in to a landing spot, the engines cut and a low whine vocalizing its powering down. It sat there for a few moments before the air-lock hissed, the loading ramp descending slowly. Down the ramp came a lone figure, clad in blue-colored armor with a distinctive, T-visored helmet. Thalgan walked into the Labyrinth, looking around, glad to be back from his assignment.

Glad to be getting paid for a job well done.

His eyes scanned the environment, eventually coming to rest on a familiar face: the blue-haired woman, Andarta. His handler of sorts. He made long strides, his armored feet clattering on the floor beneath them. He approached quickly, coming to a halt just outside of arm's reach. "Glad to have you back," he said blankly.

The time he had alone with his thoughts hadn't been pleasant, and he wasn't particularly ecstatic about his last job. The whole scenario was unsettling to him, playing over and over in his mind. Although, it wasn't the slaughter of the aristocrats that had bothered him.

It was the words of his employer, Lochlyn, that would haunt his memories for an eternity to come.

____

"You all really miss me, don't you?" Andarta asked, bringing her unseen eyes to rest on Thalgan. "How did the job for Crowley go?" She asked him, Hannibal starting to walk off. He tapped the watch he wore, making sure Andarta saw him.

"I missed it, had to take a trip home for a bit. Not sure how long I was gone from here. Space and time can get really fuzzy. A day here was me experiencing a week out there."

____

"It was..." the Mandalotian trailed off, his mind still rife with complications, dread washing over him in a perpetual rinse cycle, spinning his world around vehemently, making all that had happened difficult to process. "Eventful," he said finally, suppressing his doubts so as not to let Andarta see that he was troubled.

He couldn't comprehend what he was feeling; he'd killed before, several times and for less than what he'd been paid. However, something about the job in Aether City was just all wrong, and it was all because of Lochlyn.

He made the mercenary feel uneasy.

"At any rate, I'm ready to collect my pay and move on to the next job." He offered these words as assurance, a disguise against his true feelings. Although he did need the money...

It was time for him to get his own ship.

____

Andarta nodded, "You're all business, I think I've told you that I like that. Anyways, you're in luck. I might send you back to Valore. The Hessian hasn't reported in. He might have run into a problem. Heard there's some eyes on us." She told Thalgan, "Until I confirm it, I need you to track down the Invictus that got away from my people."

"There were several in Siren, they slipped the mercs I sent after them. My sources didn't report anyone fitting their description hiring any smugglers or pirates to get them off-planet, they might be waiting for backup." The woman told Thalgan, "Head to Siren, see what you can find out. Follow the breadcrumbs."

Andarta began to walk off, heading for an exit out of the hangar. "Expect the money to be in your account in the next hour."

____

Thalgan watched Andarta walk off, absentmindedly, cognizance failing him in that moment as he continued to dwell on past events. He was lost in his stupor, the sounds around him mere blurs of noise that allowed for no real focus. Suddenly, down the loading ramp came Arrora, who took her place next to the Mandalorian, similarly watching Andarta's frame shrink into the distance.

He snapped out of his delirium, slowly turning his head towards the dissatisfied twi'lek pilot. She crossed her arms, a hard look settling upon her face as her gaze met his own. "I guess you need me to take you there, huh?" she said, the venom dripping from her voice undeniable. The mercenary's own cold stare held, his heart beating faster than he even realized. Speaking to her now, after all he'd done, was uncomfortable. Neither of them spoke a word, just silently staring at each other, the flame in her eyes seeking to burn him alive...

And the coldness in his sought to put the fire out.

With a click of her tongue, she motioned her head towards the ship, making quick strides back towards it. "Come on, then, let's go," she said bitterly, "But after this, you're on your own for good, understand?" Thalgan needn't have acknowledged her. Her words were perfectly clear.
 
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