[i]Bang[/i]. Electrifying pain jolted through her bandaged-up shoulder but she did not wince or give an inch; the coil-gun held firm and steady on target. Only her lips pressed together in an angrily contorted grimace, signaling that the woman felt any injury at all. Brows furrowed, she focused her winter-grey eyes on the prize and tightened her grip on the trigger one more time. [i]Bang[/i]. The dud shattered harmlessly against the human-shaped practice target, indicating a hit where the left-side ribs should be. That was her last shot; nine rounds, seven hits, one head shot. She’d done much better in the past, but in the end it was all meaningless statistics. Real combat was nothing like firing at a target. Nothing in the world could emulate the physical and emotional chaos of two human beings trying to kill each other. Cass closed her eyes and slowly exhaled, releasing the tension in her arm muscles and gently lowered her gun onto the counter. Rhythmically pulsing pain flared in her right shoulder and it felt hot under the bandage. Instinctively touching it, she immediately came to regret the decision and quickly retracted her fingers. She still asked herself if she had made the right call, or if it was merely carelessness that had let the situation get out of hand. The shooter was little more than a kid, trigger happy and nervous. She could have talked him down. That’s what she thought. But then something happened. Maybe she moved a little too suddenly, maybe the kid tripped. Maybe there had been an unexpected tremor in the ground. Something set him off and made him pull the trigger – but he was a poor shot. Hit her in the shoulder; she got him in the gut. The contracted medic zipped him up in a body bag and stabilized her wound with a skin spray and then they were off. Business as usual. To get shot at for someone else’s gain. To kill clueless idiots so that other idiots can live. Business as usual, she thought and shook her head with a look of disgust while she removed the empty mag from her weapon and tossed it in a designated bin by her stall. Glancing at her watch, she turned to leave, signaling to an attendee outside that she was finished. She still had a few hours. --- “Good shit, right?” Cass watched as a sizeable puff of dark green smoke escaped her lungs out of her mouth, obscuring the viewport into space, wherein were clearly visible the dead surface of Derelict and, behind it, the hellish red glow of Maasym. “Tastes fishy, I don’t know,” she mumbled, turning her attention to the girl with obviously-dyed blue hair who sat next to her. Of course, Cass knew about her profession but she was always freshly surprised by how brazenly the girl was wearing those perilously revealing outfits of hers on a daily basis – even when not on duty. No one passed her by without having their eyes stuck on her for a moment or two. Sometimes more than that. “Algae from Europa. Come on Cass, do you know how much it costs to get that shit here?” She held out her hand and, when Cass handed her the inhaler, took in a deep breath of the synthetic substance herself. “It’s all right. I just like to stick to the classics, you know me.” And also, this mix made her feel dizzy somehow. Perhaps it was spiked with something other than what Alyx was saying. Cass leaned back against the bench, arms and legs wide. “No, I think you’re nervous,” Alyx suggested out of the cloud of green smoke surrounding her pretty head. “Bullshit. What about?” Cass retorted, crossing her legs. “You tell me. You know I’m good at telling these sorts of things. Comes with the job.” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s my shoulder. You ever had a bullet go straight through yours?” They swapped the inhaler again, Cass took another puff, this one with less enthusiasm than before. “I had a number of things in me but that’s not one of them.” She grinned, innocent as a girl. “I’m gonna do a side gig. If they take me.” Cass eventually admitted after an awkward period of silence between the two, wordlessly passing the inhaler back and forth. “Let me guess: More macho stuff?” blue-hairs teased, leaning closer and putting her slender hand on Cass’s cold iron thigh. Cass gave her a look of disapproval. “Not much else I’m good for, is there?” “You’re always so self-depreciating. Lighten up a bit, sunshine,” Alyx encouraged her and wrapped her arm around Cass’s shoulders, careful not to touch the bad one. “So what’s this one about?” The taller, black-haired woman returned the gesture. “Origin, believe it or not. They’re setting up a new ground team for some scientist schmuck. They need someone to guide and protect them. Pay’s much better than what Mercury is giving me.” “You’re doing that in your off time?” Alyx asked with concern. Cass nodded: “Whenever else would I?” “So when are you actually going to take a break?” The mercenary had no answer for her friend. If she ever wanted to be free from the shackles of corporate enslavement, if she ever wanted to be treated fairly and with respect again, then sacrifices like this were necessary. There was no other way she could ever collect the money necessary to pay off her mounting debt. “Well… if you do ever need a break, then, you know. I’ve stopped charging you a while ago,” Alyx offered, almost sheepishly. “Maybe I’ll drop by later,” Cass suggested absentmindedly. “To, to tell you how it went, I mean.“ The two of them sat for a while, each contemplating their lives so far as their gaze was absorbed by the crimson abyss of Maasym’s star.