It had been dark for several hours, but the lights from the city and from the ship yards kept the Harpoon's exterior illuminated enough to see where one was going. Balva had dug up a spotlight from somewhere in the depths of the ship under which Iisska was currently working away on patching the re-entry plating. He had wanted to ask Sterling for money to run out and grab some parts before leaving the planet, but had found the droid's vaccant body after [i]somebody[/i] had gotten to it and decided it would be better for both of them to just pretend he had never seen that. For now he could work around the lack of parts. Balva stayed with him engaging in chit-chat and aiding with the maintenance. 

Visitors to the planet and city roamed the streets and dock still, some enjoying the nightlife, others just looking for a meal and a quiet place to rest. Iisska couldn't help but give passing glances to those who came close. Part of it was paranoia, part of it was just an interest in the comings and goings of people and part of it was being relieved to finally be somewhere that wasn't Courescant. In particular an old man and a few buddies sat outside his scrap shop at an old table, drinking smoking and gambling in relative silence with the occasional bout of laughter or story. These warmongers seemed to have some peace in them after all. He listened to Balva talk and recant unsavory and humorous tales about the Harpoon's crew. It wasn't enough to keep him from planning his eventual departure from them though.

After welding down the last major split in the plating he moved onto the thrusters to see what could be done. Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone approaching the men at the scrap shop. They were silenced a bit and it became obvious the newcomer didn't belong. Her features were hidden under a hood but she was small and lithe and graceful. She moved up to the men and showed them a link-pad. There were hushed tones and shrugs and scratched heads as they looked through the info. Iisska squinted trying to get a better look. He couldn't be sure but he thought he recognized the uniform peeking out from under her cloak and the blurry shape of a gold sigil on her collar. Regardless she had to be an authority. One of the old men suddenly pointed toward the Harpoon and the woman's gaze turned on them.

"Hey, man," he hurried over to Balva and picked up the tools and materials trying to stay casual, "Bodge the last of that up and let's call it a night, eh?"

He slipped back inside, the anxiety and flight response still chewing away at his gut. He had to convince the others that it was time to leave or at least find a way to keep a lower profile if running wasn't an option. The Harpoon could at least make it off planet at this point. If only Sterling wasn't still out and... covered in graffiti... Iisska put away his work and reclined against a wall near the loading bay. There he drew his blaster turned the safety off and tried to keep his senses sharp for anybody coming too close.

---

The hooded woman ducked out of sight between a couple of dilapidated buildings and pulled a holovid from her cloak. It flickered to life as she dialed her contact. On the other end a mechanical voice answered her call.

"Commander Kalor," she demanded quietly.

There was a short silence followed by a gruff, "Kalor. What is it?"

There was no hologram to accompany it. It was just like him to hide from her.

"Commander, I've located the criminals who escaped from Courescant last night. Visual confirmation on the ship and one suspect," she said.

"Already? Good work. I'm sending a squad, but for now you are to stay clear and keep me informed. Maintain visual but do not under any circumstance engage them. Understood?"

"... If they--"

"Agent Quin," his tone was absolute, "Do you understand?"

"... Yes sir," she hissed.

"Good. I'll leave you to your work then," the link went dead.

She gripped the holovid in her hand tightly until her knuckles went white then swiftly pocketed the device. Her fingers came back clutching what looked like a very small and minimalist blaster. It almost looked more like a toy than anything that would be carried by an adult. She made her way back to the shipyard until she could see the fugitive vessel, but she stopped there. Staying low she aimed the little firearm at the ship and pulled the trigger. There was a tiny [i]pop![/i] but nothing more as a slug whistled out of the barrel. It flattened itself on the hull of the ship and stuck there tightly with four little prongs that snapped out of its sides and sunk into the metal. She retrieved her link-pad and after zipping through a few screens she found where the slug had already started to upload the location and various other data about its new host.

Now she had to endure a maddening wait. Vengeance was so strong in her blood she could taste it on her lips. Friends of hers had been on the patrol ships that had been destroyed. These monsters would not be getting away from her.

---

##
##--user Zenithar : Ouran --data-ascii @TransmissionsInquiry.dpd GDLN://local//received//new
*--Connected to GDLN
*--Connected to local (127.0.0.1) port ##HIDDEN## (#0)
*--Port auth granted user 'zen'
> POST /Received text transmissions
>AUTH: Basic ZnJ1ZDpmbGludHn0b25l
>HOST: localhost: (#0//Iridonia)
>ACCEPT: */* (#145.1.1//Dac)
>CONTENT: application/x-text-transmission-data-form-encoded-received
>GDLN/127.0.0.1 OK
[[
 "To": {
 "Zenithar" endUserID}
 "Body":{
 "Zen,
How are you doing? Pretty well, I'd assume. You do tend to go about in that happy, little, twisted, apathetic, careless way don't you? You self-absorbed, childish, asinine, loud-mouthed sociopath. In case you missed it, you single handedly ruined months of my work in mere days. I don't expect you to have noticed this time nor the other several times you have done so. This is you we're talking about after all. Since you have been so careless and destructive and inconsiderate I have no choice but to permanently kick you from our group and ban you from all further P&T sessions with us. If you love to play the game as much as you say you do then maybe this will teach you to pull your head out of your ass and actually learn to play it like a sentient being and not a half-dead slime-mold. Have a nice life.
 
 -Merlai

P.S. Nobody cares about your stupid, drooling, ugly, mutt. Do yourself a favor and just shut up about the smelly bitch if you ever slither your way into another P&T group.}
]]
>CONTENT: //end
##