Neil felt a sudden unpleasantly familiar pressure against the small of his back. One did not forget the feeling of a gun being pressed into one’s kidneys easily after all. No one in the crowd paid much attention to Sven as he stepped up behind his one time friend, concealing the weapon in the folds of his coat.

“I was just thinking I should by a jingo ticket, and well and behold a jingo ticket comes to me,” Sven said placing one hand on Neils shoulder to prevent him from pulling away from the gun.

“I don’t know what you assholes did to Gnorlacc, but whatever it is the bounty he put out on you is big enough for me to spend the rest of my life somewhere far better than this stinking shitpile.”

With deft motions he guided Neil towards the edge of the market, where a large garage, its sign large an neon but in an unfamiliar script sat, the open maintenance bay yawning cavernously.

“If you will just step inside…”

________________________________

“You’ll have to boost me,” Junebug said. The roof of the hangar was thirty meters away but a story beneath them. Saxon bared his fangs at the suggestion.

“Why should I help you, more likely this is a trick so that Edwards can escape my clutches,” the alien grumbled. Sayeeda placed her balled hands on her hips in exasperation.

“Oh yeah, this is all part of our master escape plan, Neil is probably on a tramp freighter out of system already.” The Hex spat onto the concrete, the warm fluid sizzled slightly and Sayeeda had the unpleasant impression that the things bite might be poisonous. 

“He was always weak when it came to females,” Saxon rejoined, causing Sayeeda to arch an eyebrow. Whatever history Neil had with Saxon it was obviously more personal than she had imagined. Neil had told her that he had been a mech pilot in some war, he didn’t really seem old enough to have been kicking around the galaxy long enough to have that sort of history. Well if she survived she supposed she could ask.

“Whatever, just boost me,” she snapped, pulling open closures to loosen her leather bodysuit and gain a few extra inches of motion. The Hex glanced skeptically at the hangar roof across the street.

“You will break your bones,” he said, the assessment surprisingly neutral, as though voluntarily breaking bones were something that ought be considered but not necessarily rejected. Junbug moved back up the accessway to give herself a run up.

“Only if I’m really unlucky, and besides, its not like my options look that great otherwise,” she added. Saxon squatted down and made a stirrup out of his clawed hands.

“If you abandon me I will kill you as well as the pilot female,” Saxon hissed, his voice filled with menace.

“If I had a credit for everytime I heard that one,” Sayeeda said and sprinted down the accessway towards the hex. Just before she reached him she bounded into the air and bought her right foot down in his hands, the Hex uncoiled like an olympic shotputer and hurled her out over the street. For a moment she arched upwards on momentum before gravity reasserted itself. Spending years in speeding combat vehicles prepared you for that shocking second when the ground wasn’t there. You had to keep functioning, keep thinking, or else you were going to loose your vehicle in an unexpected gully or swale. Sayeeda twisted forward as she flew, letting her head drop. The street below rushed up and for a moment she thought she wasn’t going to make it. Then her hands struck the roof of the hangar and she let them fold slowly as she tucker her chin down and balled her body up. She tumbled across the ferocrete roof and slammed into one of the ventilation motors that perched atop it with a crash. The leather clothing she wore saved her from being torn to bloody rags by the stunt but the jolt she had adsorbed with her arms and wrists hurt like hell. Groggily she came to her feet waving at Saxon. It didn’t sound like anyone in the street had noticed either the airborne mercenary or the sound of her abrupt return to the ground, that wasn’t surprising, the steady thrum of the Highlanders plasma motors was enough to dull the senses of anyone this close.

“Now I just have to get in touch with Taya,” she muttered brushing at her now ragged clothing with irritation. The heel of one of her boots had torn away in the fall. Curse this planet and everyone on it. 
[@POOHEAD189]