Taleste considered the woman's sage advice. She turned to the woman and smiled nervously yet with a confidence of a girl with a crazy idea and nothing to lose.

"Sounds tempting, but my boss isn't going to take too kindly to that. In fact, if you're going to take that disk and then let me go, you may as well shoot me now. Here's another proposal. I come with you, give you the disc, and work for your boss, and in return, I get protection. Take me with you or kill me, but make your mind up quick. The security might be here any second."

"You may as well shoot me now." Fair enough. Tess sighted down the iron, but the nervous smile made her hesitate, If I had chosen a different path, that could be me. The clatter of boots behind her jolted her back into the presence. "Tess, get moving, building security has notified the blues." Right...

She turned to find three of the security guards running into the room from the far door, thankfully they were only equipped with stunners. "We'll talk about this later!" Tesla threw the baton back into its holster, then grabbed the overcoat bundle, and started backpedaling towards the door. "Get behind me and stay there, if you run I will shoot you!" She fired off a few rounds at the guards, tempering their headlong rush and making them dive for cover.

---

One hand danced over panels, silencing alarms and verbal warnings. The other gently pushed the yoke, making minute adjustments. Yes, he was much lower than he should be, yes, he would probably get a ticket for this, and yes, he most definitely would be worrying not a few people. The intersection was right ahead though, rapidly growing in the view screen. There would be just enough room to set down, he could see flashes of light from a weapon inside the near building, a good sprint away from his landing area. At least shes easy to spot. He checked the instrument panel. 10 meters...8....4...and down. The craft sighed as it settled on its pads, the engines whining as he kept them throttled up. Outside, an unfortunate car was partially crushed and scorched by the thrust of the right side engine.

He hit a switch and the ramp eased down, on top of yet another car. "Someone's going to have a hard time explaining this to their insurance." He laughed to himself, then keyed the comms. "Ms. Jou, your chariot awaits. If you could please make it choppy, I saw blues on the way in." In the streets, people were starting to run from the large ship that had dropped out of practically nowhere. The sound of gunfire was now a secondary concern. Though there was an exception, a van that was zooming in the opposite direction of the running citizens.

By the time Jack had regained his senses, the black van had escaped the throng of emergency vehicles and fierce gun battles and fled Downtown. After a few minutes of retching and spitting globlets of phlegm onto the floor, Jack worked up the courage to stand up. Immediately his vision swam and he staggered alarmingly to the side; two henchmen grabbed him and guided him to the front of the vehicle, where he sat in the passenger seat. They were speeding down a skyway, skyscrapers to either side. The car directly in front and behind looked suspiciously similar to the matte black people carrier that they were in currently. “Where is he?” Jack asked, looking to the driver, a butch latino with gang tattoos crudely crossed out all over his neck and hands. “The Platinum Orbit.”

Jack didn’t frequent it much, but it was a favorite of his father. He paid a hefty price tag each month for ‘Platinum VIP’ status. This entailed complimentary drink, drugs and protection from law enforcement as well as regular citizens and gangs. The club’s landing gantry was situated half way up a tower nicknamed Hel, partly for its overwhelmingly Scandi-descendance population and partly because of the host of clubs that violated noise laws as well as firearms treatise. As the sun shone weakly through thick cloud cover raindrops began pattering down on the windscreen of Jack’s car. The young gangster scrunched his eyes up and tried to keep a visual lock on the van in front of them as the trickle turned into a torrent. “The biosphere is going wrong, what i heard.” The latino next to him grunted, turning onto a main boulevard.

A wide skylane with towers on either side, Jack could see vast neon displays through the rain splashed windscreen. Gargantuan neon holograms, mainly of dancing girls but also advertising products and services, “Anselm’s Chew tastes good, increases mental acuity and makes you irresistable; and now at fourteen credits a pack you can afford to be unstoppable.” an androgynous voice chimed into Jack’s earpiece. “Where is it again?” Jack asked. The latino didn’t answer, instead he activated a landing pattern and dropped the altitude sharply. Grabbing the armrests instinctively, Jack found The Platinum Orbit’s landing gantry directly in front of them. Large silver and black banners hung down the tower walls and Jack saw the club’s name hung in bright neon lights above the door.

Gently easing into place on the gantry, the van’s door slid open before it had come to a halt and Jack jumped quickly out. Trench coat flapping in the wind and hair already getting wet in the rain, he left his henchmen behind and approached the bouncers on the door. “Jack Thegn the Third. My dad’s expecting me.” Jack said, drawing up to his full height. Without looking at a list, the head bouncer grinned. “Sorry, he didn’t say anything to me.” ~Trust Jack Senior to dump me in it.~ Jack thought. “Alright, how much?”

“Eight thousand credits.”

Jack flashed his credit card on the scanner. The bouncer nodded him in. He brushed past the assembly and the line and entered The Platinum Orbit. The van took off silently and headed to the secret back door exit car park.

The inside of The Platinum Orbit was like something out of a hedonistic dream, or nightmare depending on your mindset. It also didn’t matter what time of day it was, most of the people here stayed and partied for days at a time. The huge vaulted ceiling was the most noticeable feature, along with huge, delicately engraved pillars and orb-like lights that seemingly hung in mid-air. Four raised platforms ran through the middle of the enormous dancefloor, meeting in the middle where a pedestalled DJ cubicle stood. Dozens of figures in strange headgear mixed a cacophony of music which could be interpreted differently depending on which room you were sat in thanks to Sonorous Interpretation Shields. Thousands of people danced manically on the floor to the thumping music, strobe lights mixed with multi-coloured lasers and psychedelic holograms helped stimulate the no doubt copious quantities of mind expanding drugs being consumed in the various booths and seating areas stationed like islands in the dancefloor ocean.

Jack strode purposefully forward, dodging gracefully through mobs of people walking and talking on their way to some other part of the club. The Platinum Orbit had dozens of different zones, all with contrasting moods and decor, Jack was headed for the Lambda Suite, the place which was most likely to be housing his father. The club had an upper level that ringed the main dancefloor, people from the various upper areas could look down on the peasants from afar while enjoying a more sophisticated style of music. The best of both worlds some might say, Jack just found the enormous grand staircase an unnecessary waste of time. An elevator would have done the job and saved space and time. The Lambda Suite was decorated in purples and pinks. Huge padded booths and lounge chairs held some of Babylon’s most distinguished celebrities and socialites. Jack got out his credit card to pay his way in but the bouncer waved it away. “No need pal, you’ve already paid.” Jack strode through. ~At least my eight grand buy in gives me freedom to go wherever i want in this hellhole.~

Taleste tapped Tess on the shoulder as if they were already partners. This girl was very used to switching loyalties at the drop of a hat. It's how you stay alive in her business; pick the winning team.She was in no danger of running. In fact, Tess would have to try pretty hard to get rid of her.

"Sorry to disturb you, miss, but our ride's here."

Taleste vaulted out the window and up the ramp before even Tesla did, and waved to the probably confused population of the transport.

"Hello! My name's Taleste Jot-Anne. Professional thief and runner. We're going to be working together from now on in exchane for my protection from the guy I just double crossed. Will that be a problem?"

There was the familiar crack of thunder, and a flash of lightning appeared for just an instant, illuminating the heavy rainfall that pattered against the hull of the Relentless. Raz shifted uncomfortably in the pilot’s seat as he maneuvered the vehicle through traffic. What Grak had said was still bothering the Chirix to no end. It was highly unusual of his brother to forgot that the men he worked with are his flesh and blood. The Relentless weaved past a pair of cars that looked as if they had just been in some sort of accident. The two vehicles were suspended in the air, the hulls of the cars mashed together in a way that looked impossible. Raz could barely make out the form of a human female with her body mangled in a strange position, sitting in the front of one of the vehicles. She wasn’t getting up again, that was for sure. Raz activated the Mind and flipped it to assistance mode. There was no way he would end up like that; not when he had something he desperately needed to do.

Perhaps he’s just stressed. The Project Towers incident might still be getting to him. Yes, that has to be what’s wrong. Raz thought.

The Relentless pulled up to a landing gantry. There was a group of six or seven Chirix standing around at various intervals around the gantry. Upon closer inspection, Raz could tell that they were all armed.”Hoplites one through seven, activate.” Raz spoke into the Relentless’s intercom. As the words exited his mandibles, the seven mechs sitting in the back whizzed to life. They all stood up off the ground and entered their ‘idle’ stance. The Relentless pulled to a gentle halt, and hovered quietly in place over the gantry. One of the Chirix, armed with a rifle of some sort, waved to Raz that it was safe to land. The Relentless floated down to the metal surface of the landing area, and parked itself there with a quiet thud. The back of the Relentless opened and the squadron of armed units exited the back of the ship, guns lowered to the ground. They were all packing Grak’s new grenade launcher attachment.

The first Hoplite stopped in front of the Chirix with the rifle, and Raz took direct remote control of his mech.”Where is Freclik?” Raz asked, his voice distorted by the mech’s communication system. The rest of the Chirix jogged over to stand in a half circle around their heavily armed visitors. They didn’t appear too comfortable with all those mechs there. A Chirix with a missing eye walked up to the mech and waved.”That you in there, Raz?” Freclik asked.”In a...manner of speaking.” Raz answered.”Where are your leaders?” Freclik nodded, understanding crossing his face.”This way.” He said and the party moved after the Chirix and inside the building. Four of the Chirix left their positions and followed the mechs inside. The Relentless’s ramp closed and Raz made himself comfortable in the cockpit.

The Hoplites and Freclik arrived a few minutes later in a rather spacious apartment. In the main room, four Chirix sat around a hovering glass table playing holographic cards. According to the mech’s complex sensory systems, Raz noted that the air in the room was filled with the smell of various illegal drugs. Raz’s Hoplite stepped towards the table and turned its head to take in the four Chirix responsible for this gang that would soon belong to Grak. They didn’t look like much: they all looked rather average. There were pistols on their belts, as well as enough ammunition to make a BESC team cringe if they ever found themselves in a firefight. Raz severely doubted that these men had ever tangled with BESC before, though.”What do you want?” One of them asked impatiently.”Your gang. They work for me now.” Raz said, and they all responded by looking at the mech and laughing.”Do they now? You think you can walk in here with a couple of robots and take ov-” Raz didn’t even let the man finish his sentence, before blowing massive holes in his body. Raz launched a grenade into the lap of one of the other Chirix. The alien looked down at the device, his eyes filling with terror right before it popped open and spewed gas into his face. The last two scrambled away as the gas caused the Chirix’s lungs to fill with blood, water, and puss. The gang leader died, drowning in his own fluiding. The other Hoplites gunned the last two Chirix leaders down, before turning on the other Chirix who had flooded into the room and the hallway beyond to see what the commotion was.”Any other objections?” Raz asked, and the crowd responded by dropping their weapons and falling onto their knees and surrendering.”That’s what I thought.” Raz said with a grin.

The guards had ducked in to cover, more content to wait for someone else to tackle the problem, now that it had been shown their criminal had some teeth. Tess fired a few more shots for good measure when she received a tap on the shoulder. "Yeah yeah, I know." It was hard to ignore, with both of them barking that into her ear. "Go ahead a-" It was useless, the girl had already bounded out the window and into the transport. Tess stifled a growl as she sped after her.

She had just jumped up on the car when she noticed a blur in the corner of her vision. Her training kicked in, and she jumped onto the ramp as the car was knocked out from under her. The overcoat fell to the floor with a clang. Adrenaline still pumping, she yanked the Mist from the folds of the coat, and ran to the ramp. Roaring obscenities, she unleashed fire upon the aggressive van, even as the ramp closed.

---

He did a double take at the new face, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere and was now currently in his cargo hold yelling to...him? He considered asking where her parents were, but she seemed to think she was in the right place. And I've got more important things to do right now. He glanced at the currently enraged and bullet spewing Tesla. She must have an explanation for this new face, one of Ames' plot twists maybe. He swiveled around in his seat, thumbing the ramp controls. At the same time, he took the controls, swiveling the craft around and pushing the engines to full. The craft shivered and whined as it blasted away from the street, into the air.

Safely away, he turned back around and paused for a second, raising a finger. No more gunfire...aaaand. No more cursing. Tess stalked down the pathway, pushing past Taleste, and entering the cockpit with a scowl on her face, it turned to a lopsided smile. "Well hey Marcus." He mock scowled at her. "Don't "Hey Marcus" me, you walk on my ship, leave shell casings everywhere, not even a kiss on the cheek, and you're taking in strays? Manners Tess."

The expected wallop followed, right to the shoulder, then the unexpected kiss. All still with a scowl on her face. Marcus smiled, then directed his glance to Taleste. "So, Ames idea?" Tesla glanced at her feet, abashed. "Not exactly..." Marcus whistled, turning and motioned to Taleste to come into the cockpit. "Hes not going to like this. You're explaining this to him first, and then me, cause this has to be good."

Tess grumbled, but agreed, "I know, I'll tell him." She stalked back into the hallway, staring at Taleste as she passed. She keyed the comms. "Hey Ames, we've got a bit of a snag..."

One of the major contributors to Babylon's not so recent cultural stagnation and decline into debauchery was cited as being the abundance of media showing how people lived centuries ago. Particularly the exciting period of Humanity's brusque introduction to technological advances that they neither understood or respected; the twenty first century and even before that. Babylonians could see people who didn't have access to all the wondrous things they took for granted, yet who were somehow... happier. They danced to music made by individual instruments and not a computer, they relied only on the very detrimental effects of alcohol or crudely synthesised stimulants to fuel the night. These visions of simple ecstasy began encouraging a revival which quickly mutated into something evil and not at all progressive. Clubbers began intentionally harming their bodies with alcohol and plant based pharmaceuticals. Instead of moving music forward and exploring new areas, it got stuck and began retracing its steps every fifty years or so.

That is unless Humanity was always destined to be a low and base creature once the shackles of normal life were unlocked and it was pushed into the dark and treacherous depths of clubs like The Platinum Orbit. Jack was a big believer that peoples never changed and therefore wasn't at all surprised that the kind of futuristic cultural renaissance he had been promised had fallen a little flat. The Lambda Suite was dark, smoky and full of melodic guitar music. Jack stalked between the maze of booths and hot tubs, brushing off the bevy of scantily clad men and women that tried to coax him into compromising activities, arranged like some disturbing tableau for all to see. After several false starts Jack found his way to the correct booth and found his father chatting to several men and women. There were spirits in self cooling bottles, drug bowls giving off a symphony of pungent odours and very few sober expressions to be found. Jack Thegn Senior was sitting at the very opposite end of the booth, half shrouded in darkness. He had a cigar the size of a baby's arm hanging from his mouth and a buxom beauty a quarter of his arm sitting on his lap sipping a century old Krug.

Jack had to push a glass onto the floor to get his father to notice him. It smashed quietly, drowned out by the music; but his dad seemed to notice the glassware's plea for help and looked round, his eyes boring into Jack. His smile, when it finally appeared, was like an explosion of white, filling Jack's eyes. Pulling the baby's arm out of his mouth and balancing it between two fingers, he gestured his son forward. "Junior! Good of you to find time to make your way here." Jack ground his teeth. "Can i talk to you for a second, you sadistic fuck?" Senior jumped up, feigning shock. "My own son, calling me a sadistic fuck!" He paused for dramatic effect like brilliant men had for millennia before him. "What have i done now i wonder..." He mused, inciting a barrage of raucous laughter from his entourage as he began squeezing past them to his waiting offspring.

Taleste was relieved that she hadn't been kicked out, and took this time to sit down and attempt to lower her heart rate. Still, she couldn't let her guard down yet. It is the motto of an untrustworthy person to trust nobody, and Taleste was a thief with a long history of double crossing and backstabbing, striding through life with blinders on so all she could see were herself and her own interests. Her current interest was to stay alive, and she had her two fellow passengers to thank for that. She didn't feel indebted to them, though. If it weren't for them, this heist would have gone without a hitch, but here she was, making lemonade out of lemons.

She looked around the inside of the craft. She'd been in worse. The cramped fighter with that killer robot that day in the Projects came to mind. A shiver ran through her body like a jolt of electricity just thinking about that day. It wasn't a day she'd likely forget, and she had tried.

But she was safe now.

She was safe now.

Her breathing was becoming more and more exaggerated, and her hands dug into the armrests until her knuckles turned white. She could still hear its voice in her head. She shut her eyes.

She was safe now.

She was safe now.

Taleste ran to the nearest window, opened it, and threw up. She returned to her seat pale and sheepishly.

"I'm fine." she muttered.

Marcus turned to the new occupant as she sat down, giving her a glance over. She doesn't look to good. He thought to himself, noticing how pale she seemed. Oh....nice. At least I don't have to clean that up. He busied himself in the controls for a moment, checking the local airspace and setting the craft on a plotted path back to home. He then leaned back and propped his feet up on the dash, turning his attention back to this new face. "You sure?" He frowned, then dug through a cubby under the console, returning with an offering of bottled water. "Getting into one of Tess' messes is pretty traumatic." He joked with a smirk, then turned to a frown of deep thought.

"So whats your story kid? We don't pick up many strays, Tess is allergic you see." Ironic, considering she was one. He added to himself. He could vaguely hear Tess' almost yelling voice as she talked to Ames, by the tone of voice he was hearing, it didn't seem to be going well.

(F****** double post)

Taleste recieves the bottle of water with a peaky nod of gratitude, and drinks from it for a few seconds.

"Thank you."

She reclines into the seat.

"I don't think there's much you could put my through worse than what I've already been through. I'll start from the top. I'm a petty thief from Marcy District. I was trying to palm off a leather jacket, so I went to the projects.

...You probably already know where this is going. I was in *that building.* I saw the massacre. I hitched a ride out with...I'm not even sure. Some kind of robot, who'd been just...mowing people down. He didn't look like BESC.

...

...So, after that, I became a runner for various project gangs, including the one I just double crossed. Luckily, They'll trace me back to my previous employment and that'll probably result in a project gang war where everyone dies, but if they managed to ID either of you, then this mess won't get resolved as cleanly and efficiently as that.

Sorry. On your end, you guys probably should have just shot me, but I'm glad you didn't. I like living."

Marcus listened to her narrative of a tough life, falling skyscrapers, and homicidal robots. Nodding and hmming, he raised his eyebrows at the mention of project gangs and resulting wars. Not the most pleasant sounding situation, but we've been through worse.

"Its fine, contrary to popular belief, we don't like shooting people either." He paused, then threw a glance over his shoulder to the door, behind which Tess was still talking. "Well, most of us don't anyway." He amended. "So long as you're here, we-... I will make sure that you keep living. As far as I can anyway." He reached back under the console and grabbed a bottle of water for himself, taking a long pull before tossing it aside.

"So this di-" He was interrupted as Tess reappeared in the doorway, seeming much less lively, more like a mess, ready to drop from a steady breeze. "So?" She folded down a jump seat and sat heavily. "So. Ames wants to see you. And he wants that disk, so hold on to that for now. We'll meet up with him pretty soon here. Hes going to...consider your offer." Got a good ass kicking though. She finished to herself, lapsing into an uncharacteristic silence.

"Well, that settles it then." Marcus exclaimed, putting on a big shit eating grin. "Back home it is." The craft deftly manouvered its way through the sky to one of the more industrial parts of Babylon, large wareouses dotted the landscape, seperated in neat grids by well worn roadways. The grey structure that suddenly dominated the view was almost identical looking to the hundred others; a wide hangar sized sliding door, big enough for a craft twice the size of the one they were in, concrete and metal, rusted and worn from decades of stoic duty.

The craft settled on the landing struts, the door opening up to admit it. Marcus throttled down the metal bird, then spun around in his seat as the ramp lowered. "I'll get her put away, Taleste, Tess can give you the grand tour." After getting a promise from Tess that she'd play nice, he followed them out of the cockpit, grabbing a hand truck on the way out, to pull the craft inside the warehouse.

Ugh, I'm too tired for this shit. "Come on then, if you're going to be around for a while, you'll be spending a good amount of time here. Might as well get you acquainted." Tess beckoned to Taleste, scooping up the weapons and overcoat, and walking inside.

When the craft landed, Taleste finally felt relived to be on Terra Firma, and color was returning to her face, though she still kept her air of caution that hadn't been dropped in days. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to truly relax, free from the worry that you might get shot 20 seconds from now. She was really going to have to learn to fight. There's only so much fast legs and a smart mouth can do for you.

She exited the craft as instructed and followed Tess out. She knew Tess wasn't overly fond of her, but that was understandable. Besides, Tess had both spared her life and, if Taleste read the signs right, got chewed out by her boss for it. Taleste would have to be pretty darn grateful. And she was.

She was about to offer to help Tess carry something, but then her brain kicked in and she realized that a relative stranger asking to be given weapons was not the best of starts. In Tess' position, she'd want herself to shut up, follow, and only speak when she had to, so that's exactly what she did.