(Collaboration between Mach2 and Ghost Shadow)
--
Havok moved with eagerness and haste, hoisting his rifle over one shoulder. "She's clever...for an organic. Banks are already equipped with a wealth of equipment and computer systems. Setting up base was intelligent. However, we should prepare ourselves for traps. The paranoid ones are the worst." He finished irately. "Hardest to find, hardest to kill; always have a backup. It's a good thing you have me here, Mistress." He said with a curt nod as he continued on. 

Vagrant rolled her eyes, her gaze focused on the bank they were approaching. The building was relatively huge, and each of the windows looked to be blacked out. "Yeah, because I ain't capable of figuring out a couple o' traps," she laughed as they reached the building. "Just 'cause she's smart don't mean I can't handle it." 

She looked at the door they had reached. Solid steel, no windows. The differing paint colours at the hinges hinted that it had previously been replaced. "Probably locked...betcha I can pick it, though," Vagrant said confidently, reaching to test the handle. 

Havok saw her slowly approach the door. A single scan of its make confirmed his fear and he jumped in, grabbing her hand tightly before she touched it.

"Mistress, no! It's rigged..." He stated in a protective tone. Without releasing her he knelt down, picking up a rock. He tossed it underhand towards the door; it bounced off as a crackle of electricity radiated across the entirety of the door frame. 

"Before you make arrogant claims, Mistress, ensure your optical sensors are up to par." Havok advised, his snarky, playful tone returning once more as he let her go. "Now, let's find out how to fix this door." 

Vagrant watched the rock, the crackle of electricity unmistakeable. "Oh..." She frowned, nodded, and took a step back from the door. "That coulda been interesting." 

Looking back up at Havok, she shrugged, appearing unphased. "So how do we un-electrify a door?" she asked, fully expecting him to have the answer. 

Havok looked down at her, sighing in an irate tone. "Mistress, how many times must we go through this: I was made to [i]kill[/i] people, not save them! With your exception, of course, Mistress. Knowing information brokers such as these, there's usually a code to deactivate the door trap. But where, I wonder?" Havok asked curiously, pacing about.

She shrugged. "Betcha that guy woulda known the code if you hadn't scared him off," she answered with a smirk.

"Mistress, had he either known there was a code, or he *wanted* to tell us the code he would have. Organics of his type become very reasonable upon the threat of death, I've observed. I archived all the information I would have out of him. Shall I find him once we're done and set him aflame? I haven't used my flamethrower in awhile." He mused with an offwards glance.

 Proceeding to walk back and forth around the entrance, she mused to herself. "Bet there's a passcode or something. And I bet there are idiots who work here who forget it...." she mused to herself. "Maybe someone was stupid enough to write down a hint somewhere. That'd be nice, eh?"
 
 "Hmm, you may very well be onto something, Mistress. I recommend we look around the facility, organics are horrible when it comes to remembering key phrases or passwords."
 
 She nodded, beginning to look, but clearly wary to touch the building after the demonstration with the rock and the electrified door. The walls were brick, in good condition for a building in Zone Beta. 

After several moments, she stopped in front of a section of the wall. There was a brick perhaps a foot out of her reach, but she could clearly see the discolouration. It was lighter than the surrounding ones, which were all a perfectly even shade of roan. "Hey," she said, turning to Havok and pointing at the brick. "That one's funny."

"Funny? I don't hear it uttering any humorous statements, Mistress. If by 'funny' you mean 'displaced' then, please, say so." His tone was playful, however, most likely only to cause irritance rather than actually insulting her. 

"The hell's 'displaced' mean?" Vagrant asked, shaking her head in annoyance. "I'll say what I feel like saying."

Havok reached up, noticing the brick was loose. Pulling it free from the others he looked at the back of it..."2, the number written on the back is 2." He stated aloud, examining it closely. 

She grinned broadly, proud of the fact that she'd spotted the brick. "They're actually dumb enough to write their password down?" she asked incredulously. "Awesome. See any more weird bricks?"

"I can try, Mistress. We shall see how effective a searcher I am." He stated before getting to work. 

"I believe them writing down their own password was to compensate for human error. But I have not asked this Datacore, herself. Once we meet her, Mistress, shall I shoot her in the knees? It will be a great way to gather information." He suggested happily, eventually pulling out another brick marked with a '4'. 

"I'm gonna lose count of how many times I gotta tell you...no shooting anyone unless I say yeah," she said, taking the brick from him.

Holding both of the bricks in her hands, she looked at the two of them. The '2' brick was a few shades darker than the '4' brick. She gave a thoughtful noise, realization striking her. "Hey, I betcha they go from dark to light...or light to dark. They ain't the same colour."

Havok approached, bending down slightly to examine. "Ah, yes, optical scans confirm you are right. You show excellent observational skills for an organic, Mistress." He complimented with a nod. "It appears the Datacore thought of everything. But will she think of a bullet between the eyes? Why can't I kill her, Mistress?" He asked in despair. 

" 'Cause I need her help. Killin' her don't get me that," she grumbled.

She looked at the wall, pointing out a third brick for Havok to retrieve. "That one there, it's weird, too," she said. 

Havok nodded once, procuring this one down. "It's marked with an 8. Which shade of color is this one, Mistress? My photoreceptors were not made for differentiating shades of color." He stated, somewhat shamefully. 

She raised an eyebrow, laughing. "Really? The super death bot of doom can't tell colours apart?" she taunted him, taking the brick and setting it down on the ground in line with the other two. "4, 8, 2...or 2, 8, 4."

"Mock me if you will, Mistress, but I can hit a target with [i]perfect[/i] accuracy. Differentiating colors is not a useful skill then, now is it? Anyways, back to the task at hand. My computers cannot decide whether to choose 4, 8, 2....or 2, 8, 4. I suppose our best bet is to try both codes and see which one works." 

Without another word he walked over to where the keypad was, preparing to type in the first code. 

Vagrant watched Havok, nearly bouncing back and forth with excitement. "Do the 4, 8, 2, one first," she instructed excitedly. 

"Very well, Mistress, but please, calm yourself. The last thing we need is an over-excited group of bandits attempting to rob us the find. Though, spilling blood would be quite fun." He offered thoughtfully, typing in the 4, 8, 2 code. The field deactivated slowly, and a loud, ominous click sounded as the door unlocked. 

"Now, let us enter, but please, Mistriss; be on your guard." He advised before the door slid open, his rifle out in front of him. 

Karis watched them enter from the monitor in her office. They seem smart; after all they were able to get through the door. "Activate floor" She spoke into the intercom and the floor flipped from wood to a slick tile slippery enough to break bones if slipped on. 

"I'm on my guard," Vagrant confirmed, walking directly behind Havok. "Anything in there? I don't see anything. Maybe they don't even know we're here yet."

She kept up the stream of chatter as she peered past him into the door. "I think it's safe. No one's shooting at us or nothing."

"Mistress, I strongly recommend you use your [i]sense[/i] rather than [i]sight[/i]; the best traps are those *unseen*, look beyond." He advised, carefully taking a single step forward, feeling his own foot begin to slip; he stamped down defiantly with the other, supporting himself. 

"Ah, an old but practical trick. The floor is slippery, dangerously slippery. Be cautious; you organics are so uncoordinated." He said, retaining his current stance. 

Vagrant made a face, seeing what Havok meant about the floor now. "It's just a slippery floor..." she muttered, moving to take a step forward.

She had been expecting the ground to be similar to an icy street in the winter time. Even though she stepped cautiously, her feet couldn't find a grip against the ground. A second later, she was sprawled across the floor, sliding up against the wall and swearing up a storm. 

"Can't even get past this? Oh just wait until you get to the next trap!" Karis laughed over the intercom after seeing the girl take a spill over the tiles. 

Havok looked up sharply. "A grave mistake, Datacore: not only have you revealed yourself within the building, but you have also given away the fact you have [i]more[/i] traps laid out. Oh, how I cannot wait to bash your head against your own damned computer screen." He hissed, holding up his rifle and shooting the intercom with it. 

He knelt down slowly; though he was metal and quite sturdy, he wasn't infallible to slippery conditions and would no doubt fall, if careless. "Come up now, Mistress. Hopefully this prepares you for what remains." He said calmly, lifting her with one hand.

Vagrant accepted the help reluctantly, knowing her feet would only fall out from under her again if she tried to stand on her own. Once she was up, she grumbled something about not calling her 'mistress', before making her way very slowly forward. Pushing against the wall, she was able to slide a few feet further. 

"Come now, stay steady, Mistress. I fear more traps shall befall us." Finally, after what seemed like hours they had passed the slippery floor, and were onto more solid, stable footing. "Now, observe once more; it's quite obvious this...delusional keeper of knowledge has set up a few toys for us..." 

When he feet touched steady ground again, Vagrant smiled. The sliding floor of the lobby had been replaced with a long hallway. "That wasn't so bad. If all the traps are like that, this'll be a cakewalk," she said nonchalantly, walking forward again.

A small beep sounded after a few steps. Vagrant froze, unsure of what she had just triggered. She waited in apprehension for a trap door to open beneath her feet, or for knives to shoot out of the walls. Instead, there was a bright flash of light. She squinted, then raised a hand to cover her eyes as the light intensified.

The familiar weight of her backpack straps disappeared in a second, and she heard the clattering noise of something falling to the floor. "The hell?" she muttered, turning around and opening her eyes again. 

She swore loudly when she saw her backpack's contents lying strewn across the ground...and even louder when she saw that her legs and the entire rest of her body were unclothed. "What the hell?" she yelled, panicking. "[i]The hell was that?[/i]"

The girl dropped to the ground, scrambling to cover herself and pick up the contents of her backpack. "Turn around!" she ordered Havok, looking up at him. 

Havok turned sharply as he saw the flash of light, staring silently as he saw both Vagrant's backpack and clothing disappear from sight. "Are you attempting to seduce me, Mistress? I'm afraid I'm not programmed to reciprocate any romantic or sensual emotions organics experience. However, if you're so yearning for companionship you'd strip down in front of your assassin droid, I'd be glad to locate us a bar to go to. I'd even threaten an attractive young man to lay with you, if that is what you wish, Mistress." He said, already turning around at her command. 

"I ain't [i]seducing[/i] you. It's another damn trap," she spat, still curled up and kneeling down on the ground in an attempt to keep herself covered. "I don't strip down for no one, 'specially not robots."

 She reached forward, relieved to see that the change of clothes she carried in her backpack had [i]not[/i] been vapourized. She pulled on a white tank top and a black pair of pants, but could do little for her lack of underwear or shoes. She would have to buy some later. Frowning, she gathered up the rest of the contents of her bag, sliding an oversized pair of brass knuckles onto her fingers, and stuffing a crumpled photograph into her pocket. A handful of spare change had also fallen to the ground, and she quickly picked it up. Strips of white cloth joined the photograph in her pocket, used for wrapping her knuckles for fights. 
 
 Standing, she turned to look at Havok again. "Okay, you can turn around again," she answered. "You're damn lucky I hit that trap, that woulda fried you."
 
 After a second, Vagrant tilted her head, a slight grin appearing on her face. "You'd threaten a guy to sleep with me?" she laughed.
 
 "A trap? Ah, yes; vapourization ray, interesting. Though more effective against actually [i]armed[/i] opponents." He turned around once more on her command. [i]"You'd threaten a guy to sleep with me?"[/i] His mistress asked in an amused tone. 
 
 "Well, I would if you commanded it, yes. I consider it a win-win; you'd get to savor the sexual relations you appear to yearn for with a passion and I get to see the reactions organics take to my various threats." His photoreceptors flared ominously.
 
 "I [i]might[/i] take you up on that offer," Vagrant consented mischievously. She corrected him quickly. "And I don't yearn for nothing with a passion. Shuddup."
 
 She started to walk forward once more, and then stopped. "Your turn to go first," she told Havok, gesturing for the droid to take the lead. 

Havok merely nodded, taking the lead once more; his posture crouched and poised. "Hm...it appears she took the message. No taunting words from the intercom? Perhaps she's afraid I'll shoot that one too." He said, a sly undertone to his voice as he continued to walk. 

Vagrant followed behind, some of the red finally leaving her face as the embarassment of having her clothes vapourized wore off. She was more angry at the fact that her backpack was gone. Now the only things she had left of Austin's were the brass knuckles and the photograph. After that last little trap, she was thinking she might let Havok indulge his desire to smash the Datacore's head into her computer monitor.

Barefoot, she stepped down the hallway after Havok, on alert for the next trap. 

The hallway cut off into the next room. It was large and open, only a thin sheen of light coming through; toppled desks, chairs, and papers littered the floor around them. 

Havok held his rifle out in front of him. "Wide space, multiple obstacles for cover. Prepare for impending combat; no doubt this is a perfect room for a rather devastating trap." He advised, yet no fear was in his voice. 

Karis leaned to the microphone and began to talk. "Robots, move" She said and a few rooms over, the robots came to life. Their red eyes now glowed as they began to walk out of the dark room into the old office where desks, chairs and papers were scattered everywhere.

Her brother's brass knuckles already on her fingers, all Vagrant had to do to ready herself was raise her fists in front of her face. At the sight of the robots, her face twisted into a smirk. "We can take those, yeah?" she said to Havok. "They just look like more useless versions o' you."

Havok chuckled aloud as he saw the clunky machines emerge; no doubt he had expected them. But he turned to look at Vagrant upon hearing her comment. "More useless? [i]More[/i] useless? If you're insinuating that these...tin cans, barely worthy of a scrap yard pose even the smallest threat to me, then you're about to see the show of a lifetime!" He bragged in a determined tone, grabbing his pulse grenade strapped to his platform he tossed it at one of the machines lumbering towards him, holding his rifle up in preparation.

"Fire," Karis spoke. She didn't mean bullets or anything, but actual fire. And that's what then came from the grates on the faces of the robots. Actual fire being shot out at the targets. 

Vagrant danced backwards as the flames appeared, feeling the heat licking at the air in front of her face. It was unexpected, and she was caught off guard, but she managed to avoid burns. She waited for a break in the stream of fire, and then rushed forward, the spiked metal knuckles on her fist heading for the head of the nearest machine.

Havok ducked for cover quickly, watching as the flames danced about the floor of the room. "Tactical assessment: pyromancer class platforms, equipped with flamethrowers. Stay outside their range, the farther the target; the lower the accuracy." He sighed audibly as he saw Vagrant to up to [i]punch[/i] it. 

He, however, held his rifle up, aiming down the reticule carefully and attempting to shoot the gas tank strapped onto the lumbering palooka's back. 

The fuel tank of the robot let out a sharp hiss as the bullet connected with it before finally exploding. Pieces of the machine lit aflame by its own internal fuel were scattered about the office. The rest of the clunking monstrosity's brethren appeared unfazed and continued the assault.

Vagrant ducked with lightning speed, reacting to the noise of Havok's rifle before the explosion even sounded. She hit the floor, wincing only slightly as flaming debris grazed across her back and shoulders. "Watch it!" she warned Havok, though she was undeniably glad to see the machine destroyed.

Karis could only look at the security screen in shocked at what she saw. How could her robots be [i]losing[/i] the fight? Upon getting a closer look at who was fighting against her own traps, realization hit her like a slap in the face. 

She typed information into her computer at a hasty speed, results coming up within seconds. "Ariette Forge, 17 years of age, born in District 15 to Scott and Jeanine Forge; brother to Austin Forge. This street rat's been places." She commented with a small chuckle, moving onto the robot. 

"Unit HA-VK built by...Henry Jamison? Guess the guy's got more dirt on him than I thought. 5 years old, advanced combat platform; passed down from owner to owner, becoming a freelance, sentient bounty hunter. Those ones are the worst." She grimaced, typing a few more commands into the console. 

"Initiating Hellfire program, increase temperature and spread of flames, seal all doors in the area; if I can't burn them out, I'll smoke them out." She stated darkly, smiling in a sinister manner. 

Only moments after the first one exploded, the other machines were moving forward again. Vagrant danced back, out of reach of where she anticipated the flames would reach, a mocking smile on her face.

The sound of a door closing grabbed her attention, and she turned away for just a half a second. But that was long enough for the defense robots to attack. Before she knew it, the flames that she had thought wouldn't reach her were licking at her arms and body. She yelped, jumping back. The smell of singed hair hit her before the pain of the burns did. 

She cringed, looking down to see her arms pink and blistered from the flames. "Ow. Frickin' [i]ow[/i]," Vagrant swore under her breath, quickly retreating another few steps from the nearest robot. 

Havok's eyes seemed to flare in anger, he would be sure to pay [i]special[/i] attention to the Datacore once they had the *pleasure* of meeting. 

Havok sprinted to wear Vagrant was, ignoring the flames entirely. "Get behind me." He commanded, his usual jovial tone gone, replaced with supressed fury and determination. 

Vagrant wasted no time in doing so. As much as she hated to give up a fight, she knew this was out of her league. Havok could end this fight in a fraction of the time it would take her, and spare them both a good deal of injury. He held his rifle up, shooting anywhere that could impede the machine's movements: knees, feet, photoreceptors, hands. 

He lopped another grenade to the feet of the robot farthest from him, hoping to impede it, if not destroy it entirely. 

The explosion of the grenade rocked and shuddered the room about them, competely demolishing any debris or obstruction in the immediate vicinity. The robot, now critically damaged only lumbered about a few steps before falling, lifeless; the red menacing glow of their photoreceptors now dimmed away until nothing was left, signifying the brute's demise. 

The other machine didn't even look away, already busy attempting to recover from the devastating blows Havok delivered. A well placed shot to the joint that connects the arm to the torso was severed and the now useless arm fell away. 

The robot groaned aloud, continuing its demonic onslaught of fire. Havok shot a whole clip into its chest, the front panel falling away; revealing the inner mechanisms of the metal monstrosity. 

Havok aimed his rifle up, landing a single shot on the internal fluid storage. It began leaking quickly, eventually lighting the entire machine on fire. It roared aloud, a horrible, ear-splitting noise before falling, the ravaged metal black and charred. 

The room finally went quiet, and Vagrant slowly stepped out from behind Havok. Her eyes widened in approval at the sight of the fallen robots. "Not bad, Mr. Robot," she acknowledged, approaching the nearest scrap of metal and nudging it with her foot.

She turned back around to face Havok, grinning arrogantly despite the stinging burns on her arms. "I coulda finished them, though. Just saying."

Havok looked at her with exasperation. "Mistress, were I to try and enjoy myself and let *you* deal with these hulking pieces of junk then I would be staring at your singed corpse wondering where to go from here. You may be strong on an organic level, Mistress; I will not deny that. But my mobile platform and even...[i]these[/i] ones are far superior in make and structure!"

Vagrant rolled her eyes, in total refusal of Havok's claim that she wouldn't have made it against the robots. "Come on, let's keep goin'."

Karis tapped a single finger against her cool desk in anxiousness; they were getting closer than she thought. She couldn't keep the doors sealed for long, it was only a temporary measure and she didn't have enough time to make all the proper internal deadbolt seals. A well placed shot to the door control could have it open within minutes: she'd need to prepare herself.

Opening the drawer in front of her desk, she procured a pistol; though small in make, it packed quite a punch and was *most definitely* from Alpha Zone. Her assailants would be on her before long, but she would be poised...and ready.

Vagrant walked forward, leading the way confidently. At the opposite end of the room, past the shreds of metallic carnage, was the next door onwards. About to reach for the handle, she hesitated for a brief second, and then withdrew her hand. The girl turned, grabbed a scrap of metal from the ground, and lobbed it at the door. "See, I'm learnin'," she teased Havok, listening and failing to hear any tell-tale crackle of electricity.

Only when she knew it was safe did Vagrant test out the door. The handle proved to be stuck, and ellicited a groan of frustrated annoyance from her. "This one's locked...and I don't got nothing to pick it with," she told Havok. 

Havok nodded approvingly upon noticing her test the door. "Oh, Mistress, you learn so fast." He praised in an approving tone. "It appears the Datacore sealed the door. Not a deadlock, it seems, no. Work is too sloppy." He looked around for a few moments before finally resigning to shooting the hinges of the door. It fell down with a loud [i]thud[/i]. 

"When in doubt, Mistress, shoot it." Havok advised cheerfully enough, stepping through the doorway into a very dark, sparsely furnished office. "Ah, there's our friend." Havok stated in a biting tone.

Karis gasped, turning around suddenly in her chair as she heard the door collapse. She held up her pistol awkwardly, she was trained in information, not combat. "What do you want?" She hissed, managing to retain composure in her tone, though her posture appeared desperate and fearful.

Vagrant stepped through the door immediately behind Havok. Where the sight of someone holding a gun at them may have frightened others, caused them to hesitate, Vagrant only smirked. "Put that thing down," she told Karis, her tone conversational. "We don't need no bullets flying around. 'Sides, he'd," she nodded to Havok, "Gun ya down before you could even finish pulling the trigger."

She crossed her arms, watching Karis. "All I want's a few answer to a few questions. You're s'posed to be good with answers, yeah?"

Havok remained stiff and composed, his rifle aimed at Karis' head in case she tried anything. 

The woman stared daggers at Vagrant; how dare this dirty little shrimp be giving her orders? But she had no wish to play draw with an assassin droid and complied, laying the pistol on the desk carefully. 

"I'm an information broker, yes, and a damn good one." She spat out, her pride obviously hurt by the fact she was discovered. "I suppose now is the time where I trade information for my life, yes?" Her tone was very casual, as if she was almost equally as bored as she was frightened by this encounter.

"Yup, sounds about right," Vagrant nodded. She paused for a brief moment before speaking again, taking the time to word her question and savour the anticipation for the answer. "Whaddya know about Austin Forge?"

Karis sighed, walking over to her computers and quickly typing in the words. "Ah, yes, Austin Forge; your [i]sweet[/i] brother." She said in a taunting manner. "Stole weapons for food, pissed off a few gangsters and got his jugular slit open in moments, he was quite the character. Anything specific you wish to know before I take this pistol and put a bullet in my own head?" She asked impatiently. 

Vagrant's expression twisted into a deep scowl. Hearing another person talk about her brother so casually was more than enough to get her temper going. "I wanna know the names o' the guys that killed him," she said. Her casual tone was gone, replaced with barely-suppressed rage. "Names, faces, addresses. I wanna find them." 

Karis merely shook her head, typing a few more keys in. Data came up at a blindingly fast rate and a few pages were printed. 

"I'm one of the few to still use paper printers, I find them much more convenient." She stated, handing the papers to Vagrant. "Here is the identities of the men who killed your brother. Best be careful, though. They'll kill you too without a second thought."She said, almost wishfully.

Vagrant took the papers, flipping quickly through the first few pages. Finally. Now, she could go and get herself some sweet revenge. Fixing Karis with a cold smile, she shook her head. "They'd have a hell of a time trying. I don't go down easy."

She folded the stack of papers down the middle, stuffing them into her oversized pockets. "Thanks for the time," she told the Datacore, turning to head for the door. "C'mon, Havok. LEt's go finish a job."

"Affirmative, Mistress." Havok stated, making his way towards the door. Karis offered her own cold 'sweet' smile. Suddenly, when Havok was looking away, she grabbed the pistol, firing at point blank range; the energy bolt going through Vagrant's knee. 

Vagrant didn't see the weapon fire, nor did she feel the initial pain. One second, she was stepping towards the door. The next, her leg buckled and she found herself tumbling to the ground.

[I]Then[/I] the agony seared through her leg. Pain shot up her thigh and down her calf. Pain that she knew had to be accompanied by blood. A sound somewhere between a groan and a yell escaped her tightly clenched teeth. [I]Don't look. Don't look.[/I] Quickly, she fixed her gaze on Havok and Karis, anywhere but her knee. It proved to be the wrong place to look.

As soon as the shot was fired, Havok was planted in front of Vagrant, literally shooting the pistol out of Karis' hand. 

The information broker hit her knees with a yelp, clutching her now-mangled, smoking hand. 

Havok threw his own gun to the ground, his fury upon him. Havok threw a strong right hook, sending Karis to the ground before grabbing her by the side of the head with both hands. 

He began to squeeze dangerously, applying hundreds of pounds of force into the pressure. "Havok," Vagrant warned, her voice shaking.

Karis could do nothing except groan loudly in pain, clawing at the cold metal hands that would not release.

 "[i]Havok![/i]"

The worst part was that Havok made no sound, no speech, no noise, just silence. He pressed and pressed and pressed until finally the nauseating sound of bone caving in on itself sounded. 

Blood pooled between Havok's fingers and flecks of bone and brain matter lined the immediate vicinity. Havok dropped Karis' now lifeless body to the ground, where it landed with a [i]thud[/i], blood pooling all around her from her opened, hollowed out skull. Havok attended to Vagrant, examining her. 

Havok holstered his rifle on his back and lifted his mistress up, intending to carry her out of the facility. If Vagrant hadn't been panicking the second Karis had shot her, she certainly was now. The girl's face had paled of any colour, and she was shaking. For a second, she struggled against Havok, trying to get away from his blood-covered hands. "Put me down!" she ordered in a terrified voice.

She stopped struggling as she finally caught sight of her knee. Her breath caught in her chest, and she went silent and wide-eyed. Blood covered her leg, turning her black pants dark and shiny. It dripped onto the floor, droplets spattering there. A childish whimper of fear escaped her at the sight, and she looked as though she may pass out. 

Havok spoke little as he carried her out, merely looking at her on occassion. Whether it was a look of pity or concern or impatience could not be told by his skull-like head. 

Finally he broke the silence, "Mistress, you have nothing to fear; you are safe now. You have the information you require on the men who slaughtered your brother and the Datacore is dead. You should be celebrating! I will try to see about finding you a clinic to treat these wounds once we find somewhere to hide, I fear my programming does not entail medical service." He finished with a small sigh before becoming silent once more. 

Vagrant nodded shakily at Havok's words, trying to force herself into a calmer state. Aside from her fiercely aching knee and the minor burns, she was unscathed. Havok didn't seem concerned by her injuries...maybe her knee wasn't as bad as it had initially looked. Even now, the pain was tolerable. So long as she didn't actually look, she could handle it. 

"You didn't have to kill her," Vagrant said through clenched teeth. Even if she could block the image of her own knee from her mind, the memory of Karis's skull crumpling in Havok's grip was a bit harder to shake. "Coulda just knocked her out and left..."

"Mistress." Havok began coldly, the same tone of dark foreboding anger in his voice once more. "She shot you, she made that choice." Was all he said, eventually leaving the damnable bank. 

"Now," He began again, his jovial tone back as if it had never left. "Where's the nearest hospital?" He asked curiously.

She shook her head. Hospitals, for Vagrant, ranked nearly as high as blood on her list of things to avoid. "I dunno...I think there's one a few streets over." She racked her brains, trying to remember where exactly they were in D-13, an area she usually knew like the back of her hand. "Yeah, small place. Hanover Street Clinic. Don't think they ask too many questions, neither."

"Then we shall head there, immediatly." Havok said, making his day down the street, Vagrant still in his arms. 

"Mistess, I am so sorry I did not react sooner. As your guardian and assassination droid, it shames me that I allowed you to be hurt when I was only a few feet away. I hope the wound does not pain you too much." He added sorrowfully, his head cocked downwards slightly. 

"Nah, don't worry," Vagrant told him. As much as it hurt her pride, the accident was a large part her own fault. "I turned around on someone who had a gun in arm's reach. That's just stupid."

"And it ain't hurtin' too bad," she lied. "I've handled worse."

Havok looked at her, "Mistress there's no need to lie to me. Your body lacks much in the way of scars or marks of previous altercations. This injury is new, but I won't argue with you." He conceded, eventually reaching the clinic. It was a small building, slightly dingy yet clean in its own way - for a Beta Zone building. 

Havok stepped inside, receiving a few odd glances from patrons and staff alike in the waiting room. 

"There was an accident." He began in a truthful tone, adjusting his vocabulator. "I am a protocol droid in service to this young lady who works at the Adamanium mill, we were attacked by raiders; she was shot. I procured this rifle from one of the dead assailants for protection just in case." He lied, sounding very convincing as he did so.

Vagrant was relieved for Havok's lie. In any other situation, she would have been able to pass a lie off without hesitation. But not when her knee was dripping blood all over the floor of the hopital lobby. The receptionist behind the desk, a woman in her late forties, looked at the two of them and nodded quickly. "We'll get you in immediately," she told Vagrant, paying little attention to Havok even though he had been the one who had spoken. 

She picked up a phone from the desk, speaking quickly. "Paging Dr. Keller. There's a young girl here, bullet wound in her knee." A nod later, she set the phone down and looked up at Havok. "He's on his way. Thank you for bringing her here-"

"He's stayin' with me," Vagrant said firmly before the woman could suggest that Havok leave.

After a brief hesitation, the receptionist nodded. "All right."

An awkward silence fell upon the room while the odd-looking duo waited. After a few moments, the door parallel to them opened and the [url=https://evbdn.eventbrite.com/s3-s3/eventlogos/27245869/paul.jpg]doctor[/url] stepped out. 

He was an older man of at least fifty, with curly graying brown hair and a thin line of scruff. His face was weathered but friendly and was dressed nicely, for a doctor in Zone Beta; he was wearing a simple dark gray frock coat over a matching waistcoat with a name badge on it. Under this was a white dress shirt and black dress pants and leather lace-up boots.

"Ah, yes, hello." He said in a cheerful tone, approaching the two of them. "I am Dr. Emmet Keller, pleasure to meet you. Please come with me." He said with a friendly smile, exiting from the same door he entered from. 

The door led to a rather small, but efficient looking patient room. "You can lay her down on the bed there, thank you." He said to Havok. "I'm rather intrigued...I've been in medicine for nearly 30 years and I've never seen a protocol droid bring a patient in." He said, sounding somewhat interested, but still friendly. 

As Havok set her down, Vagrant quickly scanned the room for something to look at. Something other than her bloody knee. Jaw still clenched painfully tightt, she finally fixed her gaze on the door, listening as Keller spoke. "Now then, let's see what we have here..." Dr. Keller said, holding a small datapad with a stylus. 

"Hmm...yes, blaster score to the knee, it appears the energy cell is still embedded. Bleeding but...the obstruction is fortunately protecting you from bleeding out." Dr. Keller began, speaking more to himself than to Vagrant. 

"And [i]how[/i] did you say you got this?" He asked curiously, furrowing his brow as he cupped his chin with one calloused hand. 

"Adamanium mills. Raiders, and I got shot," Vagrant answered, repeating the story that had been told only minutes earlier, though in far fewer words. She looked anxiously past Keller at Havok, as though seeking confirmation that she had remembered it correctly. "My bot got me out and brought me here."

Dr. Keller looked at her sympathetically, "I do apologize. We've been having more and more raider attacks recently, it's slowly becoming a large issue." He commented, his face sober and serious. 

"Well, be sure to shake the hand of whoever gave you this robot. I'm no technician, but that's an amazing function." He said, offering a small smile in Havok's direction. 

"Alright let's see...the bullet doesn't appear to have pierced anything major, but...I'm afraid we're going to have to replace the knee. Were this a regular bullet, we'd be having a different conversation, but this is an energy score; I'm not even sure how such a weapon made it down here. The bullet from this particular gun burned and fried nearly everything inside your knee, so it requires a full prosthetic replacement." He said gravely, offering a sad smile for hopes of lightening the seriousness. 

Hardly any of the words registered for Vagrant. In fact, she deliberatel tried to tune it out, not wanting to hear the details about the damage that had been done. But she caught the gist of what he was saying. Karis had buggered her knee for good. "But, not to fear, prosthetic knees are quite common around and [i]shouldn't[/i] impair your mobility too much. We can get you into surgery immediately, if necessary. But we'll have to ask your robot to remain outside in the waiting room during the surgery." He stated seriously. 

Havok reacted to this. "Doctor, I must object, I must remain by my mistress at all times!" 

Dr. Keller quickly turned to Havok, "Don't worry, she's in good hands, trust me." He reassured, holding up a hand to calm the nearly-frantic machine. 

Havok's reaction was mirrored by Vagrant. She looked at Keller, the panic she had been managing to suppress creeping back into her expression. "He don't leave my side," she said, trying to speak in her usual intimidating tone, but instead realizing she sounded like a scared little kid. 

Dr. Keller looked at her sympathetically, "I know how you feel, I really do; but he'll be right outside in the waiting room. But I can't have him in the operating room, there's just not enough space." His mouth was curved into a small frown as he said this. 

After a moment's reluctance, Vagrant finally nodded her consent. 

"Alright then," Dr. Keller began, rubbing his hands together. "Let's get started, shall we?" Havok slowly left the room, giving one more glance to Vagrant before sitting in the waiting room, opting to grab a holo-magazine and read it. 

Dr. Keller had a hover-wheelchair sent in for the short transit to the OR, disinfecting his hands and putting on gloved before adding advanced surgical goggles, face mask, and cap. 

He rolled Vagrant into the OR, a gray, bleak looking room with a metallic surgical table in the middle surrounded by large pieces of equipment. 

Two nurses were awaiting him inside and helped put Vagrant on the surgical table before turning on the computers and equipment. 

"Alright, Vagrant," Dr. Keller began, "I believe it's time I tell you what [i]exactly[/i] this surgery will entail: we're going to open up your knee complet-"

Vagrant quickly shook her head, cutting him off. "I don't wanna hear it, just do it," she said, her expression betraying just how unnerved she was. 

Dr. Keller stopped as she interrupted, offering a small nod in response. Before he could begin one of the nurses approached and began whispering in his ear. 

"What? No, no I thought we got a new shipment in just a few weeks ago! All out? Are you sure?" He whispered back, his tone not happy in the least. "Damn..." He swore in a furious tone, though remaining quiet. He sighed, thinking. "We'll make do..." Was all he said. 

Approaching Vagrant once more he exhaled deeply, "Vagrant it seems we're almost completely out of our anesthesia stores. I thought we got a new shipment recently but the increase in raider attacks has caused us to run completely out." He stopped for a moment before continuing, "I'm going to apply a numbing serum to your knee to attempt to dull what I can but...there's going to be some pain." He said truthfully, the words tasting like poison as he spoke them. 

She didn't speak, not trusting her voice to conceal the terror she was now feeling. [i]You can handle it,[/i] she told herself. She'd handled pain before. That time she cracked the bones in her knuckles with a wayward punch. Countless beatings and bruises while growing up in the streets. She nodded in response to Keller's news. He took a rather large syringe from a nearby shelf and carefully injected it into Vagrant's torn knee. He held a rubber rod-like device for her to bite on before continuing. 

He restrained her arms and legs with metallic cuffs attached to the surgery table to keep her from moving about too much. It took all of Vagrant's self-control to not fight against him. Every instinct screamed at her to punch him in the face and book it out of there. Instead, she forced her arms to stay limp, to not struggle against the doctor who was legitimately trying to help. Already, she could feel the pain in her knee lessening thanks to the serum injected. Maybe she would barely feel it. 

"This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you..." Was all he said before grabbing the cutting tool. He slowly lowered it onto her knee, beginning to open up the ravaged flesh and cutting completely through to the bone. 

Instantly, any of Vagrant's hopes for minimal pain were gone. She bit down on the rubber rod, hard enough that her teeth ached and her jaw creaked in protest. The sound of her kneecap being sawed open sent her into a panic, and she was unable to suppress the yell of pain and fear. If it weren't for the restraints, noses would have been broken. 

A nurse handed him a precision cutting laser where he carefully separated the bone from the tendons. A small mechanical arm was lowered from the ceiling where it extracted the kneecap entirely from the area, lowering it onto a metal tray. Vagrant could only watch in wide-eyed terror. 

"Removing dead tissue..." He updated in a collected, determined voice; using the laser to cut out any black, dead tissue that remained inside the knee. 

"There's the bullet...it's embedded deep." He said, controlling the mechanical arm from a small joystick attached to a computer. 

The bullet was gently pulled out, distorted from going through muscle and bone. It fell with a small [i]clatter[/i] onto the tray. Glancing over at it, Vagrant felt her stomach lurch. If her knee wasn't in so much agony right now, she knew she would have vomited at the sight of the bloody, warped, bullet. 

Once Dr. Keller thought his job was done he asked for the replacement knee. It was bleach white and appeared advanced enough. Dr Keller had the mechanical arm gently place the new knee where its previous occupant was located. 

He grabbed the laser once more and slowly began to cauterize and close the skin around the new prosthetic, the smell of burning flesh and smoke rising up to meet him. Were he not an experienced doctor he would have heaved right there. Fresh pain met Vagrant, and she was once again unable to suppress a yell, muffled by the rod she was still biting down on. 

Hooking up a leg brace around the new prosthetic, Dr. Keller tested the new knee, ensuring it was working effectively. Vagrant watched, a quieter whine escaping her every time the joint bent. By this point, she could see black licking at the edges of her vision. [i]Don't you pass out. Don't you dare pass out,[/i] she ordered herself. 

Finally, with sweat on his brow and unshed tears in his eyes from the awake-surgery, he was successful, removing his goggles and mask. The second he did so, Vagrant relaxed slightly. She unclenched her jaw, letting the rubber rod fall from her mouth, and lay back against the table. The girl's breathing came heavily, and she looked as though she had just run a marathon. The searing pain had been replaced with an intense ache, but was now tolerable, if only barely so. "That's it? Over?" she asked Keller hopefully, exhaustedly. 

Dr. Keller let out his breaths slowly, wiping the tears away from his eyes before speaking. "Yes...yes, you're done." He said tiredly, running a hand through his mess of hair. "Nurse, please get Vagrant a hoverchair and return her to the patient room..." He said, sounding exhausted. 

The nurse complied, returning after only a moment and helping Vagrant into the chair. Only now did she allow herself to look at her knee. The bleached white of the prosthetic stood out sharply against the freshly cauterized skin, the entire joint encased in a sturdy brace. Vagrant had no idea how deep into the joint the false knee went, nor did she care. All that mattered was that it was over. She looked back at Dr Keller, offering him a genuine smile even though her knee still ached fiercely. "Thank you," she said before the nurse steered the hoverchair from the room. 

The chair went down a short hallway, the nurse eventually entering a hospital room. It was a far cry from the abandoned houses Vagrant usually slept in. Plain and unadorned, with a bed and a small desk with chairs. "You can rest for a while now,"she told Vagrant kindly, stopping the chair beside the bed. 

With the nurse's help, Vagrant was able to get into the bed. She lay down on top of the covers, leg stretched out flat. "Can you go get my robot? Am I allowed to see him again yet?" Vagrant asked.

"Of course," the nurse nodded, leaving the room to go find Havok. 

The waiting room was a...mess. Chairs were flipped over and frightened people sat behind any cover possible. Havok, however, was sitting civilly in a chair, looking through another magazing, his gun lying in his off-hand. The nurse looked around, alarm crossing her face, before quickly addressing Havok. "The girl you brought in, you can go see her now," she told him nervously, before quickly going to attend to the frightened people hiding around the room. 

"Thank you." Havok replied cheerily, standing up and walking into the patient's room. 

"Mistress, you appear well. Are you nauseous? Do you need a bag? I would prefer if you didn't get vomit on my platform." He said in his usual happy tone, holstering his rifle on his back once more. 

"I been better. I ain't gonna puke, though," Vagrant answered with a forced smile. "Knee hurts like hell..."

She wasted no time. As soon as Havok had entered, Vagrant was pulling the sheets of paper out of her pocket. "Worst deal ever. A knee for a bunch o' papers," she grumbled, passing half of the stack to Havok. "Wanna help me read up on the guys we're goin' after?"

Havok nodded, taking the stack of papers and flipping through them. "It appears the Datacore spared no information. Fear is an incredibly useful tactic against organics." He noted, his eyes glowing more than usual. Before he could continue, however, Dr. Keller entered the room. 

"Hello, Vagrant, coping well?" He asked. His eyes were tired but his usual cheerful demeanor was back. 

She instinctively stuffed her share of the papers back into her pocket the second Dr Keller entered. "Yeah, coping good," she answered. Even though her knee now rendered her immobile, she was eager to leave. "How long I gotta stay here?"

Dr. Keller typed a bit of information into the computers. "For a few hours, at least. You need to rehabilitate your injuries and get used to the new knee, you only just got out of surgery." He said, eyes on the screen in front of him. 

"I'm running up the bill...total costs come up to 750 credits." He said, tapping the stylus of the databad against his chin. 

Vagrant frowned, looking uneasy. "I don't got that much," she answered simply. Her share of Havok's bounty put her three hundred credits short. Even with her own previous funds, she still didn't even come close. 

Dr. Keller sighed deeply, as if he was making an important decision. "Oh...it seems the computer had an error. It says you don't owe anything..." He said in a knowing tone, his eyes not moving from the screen. 

The uneasy frown was instantly replaced with a broad grin. Vagrant didn't believe the computing error for a second, but she wasn't about to argue. The good thing about Zone Beta was that things weren't ever monitored too closely. Keller's 'mistake' would likely go unnoticed. Everyone would forget about the girl that had come in for a prosthetic knee. "That sounds a hell of a lot better," Vagrant answered gratefully. 

"Yeah, it does." Dr. Keller said with a small smile, standing. "Well, I'll let you rest." He wrote something in a small card. "Hand this to the receptionist on your way out. You're free to go whenever, but I strongly urge you to rest for a bit." He said seriously before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. 

The second he had left the room, Vagrant pulled out the stack of papers once more. Anxious to leave though she was, she knew that a rest would not be a bad idea. "We'll get these read through, then we can leave," Vagrant told Havok, already beginning to work through the first page. 

"As you command, Mistress." Havok responded, flipping through the other pages. "Harvey Bishop, lives in District 17, works in an auto shop, evidence of continuous gang activity. Jackson Grant, works as a bartender...no current gang activity. It appears he defected." Havok stated, "Most curious. Finally, Wyatt Cain, large gang activity, no employment. Lives off gang funds." Havok finished, folding up the papers. 

"Pictures of all of 'em, too," Vagrant added as she finished with her own pages. "This is gold. Datacore woulda been a perfect place to go...aside from the whole shootin' me bit. And my backpack getting zapped. I'm pissed about that."

She stuffed her pages into her pocket once more, sitting up and swinging her legs off to the side of the bed with a small grunt of pain. "Yep, that feels nice," she muttered, and slowly stood, putting barely any weight on the prosthetic and still struggling not to grimace. 

Havok supported her with one arm. "Mistress, do not strain yourself. While I am quite satisfied you are seeing the superiority in cybernetics, I do not need to carry you everywhere again. You are quite heavy for a girl your size." He said jokingly, poking her stomach sharply. 

She fixed him with a slightly confused look, caught off guard by the joke. "I've been studying organics and their sense of humor. Usually it revolves around looking at tactical weaknesses and then exploiting them for personal self-esteem and cruelty." He stated, tapping his head with a single finger. 

This got a laugh from Vagrant, mostly because she didn't understand a word of it. "I'm only heavy 'cause I'm solid muscle," she answered with a grin. 

Leaning on Havok for support, she was able to limp towards the door and back down the hall. Several people, likely the ones that had been terrorized by Havok earlier, cast her wary glances and gave her a wide berth as she entered the lobby. "Doc said to give this to ya," she told the receptionist, passing her the card. 

The receptionist took the card with widened eyes, appearing rather shaken. "Th-thank you." She managed to squeak out.

"Come along, Mistress." Havok stated, supporting her as he left the small clinic.