Open Space and Asteroid Field

It had been a long shopping trip, or so Dante thought as he walked through the marketplace of the Independence. Unaccustomed to the mass of species assembled, he was quickly finding himself overwhelmed by the eclectic collection of sentients gathered, all hawking their wares in various timbres and assorted languages. In all though, Dante was impressed with his new look – it wasn’t every day you dropped a small fortune to retrofit an old armor suit. Besides the fact, Dante couldn’t help but feel a little bit of nostalgia creeping into his heart...he had had some adventures in his old armor; his training under Kael Skirata, the assorted mandalorian op. But, in the end, he had just never taken to the Mandalorian life that much - war was great, culture was great too, but...he had his own culture, and he had tasted too much death to learn to develop a taste for it like the Mandalorians.

If anything, he enjoyed most the years that he spent wandering the galaxy in that armor. Before he had come across the Monk Bal’shay – his Matukai Mentor – and then Arcturus after that, he had spent quite a while simply roaming...nothing but him, a ship, and his armor. When he had told Arcturus this, he had laughed, saying that he himself had wandered the stars, conquering systems, building kingdoms, and eventually abandoning them so that he could wander again...he hadn’t believed Arcturus until he had come across some old datafiles, showing Arcturus to be self proclaimed Emperor of the Techno Union. After that, he took Arcturus’ stories a little more seriously. Now, walking down an bustling marketplace with no force at his side and nothing but his armor to protect him, Dante felt a strange and familiar feeling rising up...the rush to keep on his toes, the constant urging to keep his wits about him. It was a familiar feeling; he got it most often when he was fighting with the blade; the need to test himself truly against an opponent. And what better way to test himself than without the force? What better way to see his limits?

With a flick of his eye – thanks to the suits pineal eye sensor – he engaged the suits systems with a glance. Weapons primed as energy was diverted, shield emitters harmonized, targeting sensors were engaged as missiles were activated, and the suit suddenly came alive...pulsing, breathing in time with Dante. Or, that’s how it seemed to him. With another glance and a blink, he completed the weapons test, and then initiated sensors. The AV-1s came with internal med sensors, external environmental sensors, and multiple imaging systems...when paired with a sensor pack like the 9320/B though, the two sensors working in tandem were able to produce a massive amount of information. His HUD made a ping as sensor waves began broadcasting...and slowly the system updated itself: motion sensors, lifeform sensors, energy sensors, comm sensors, environmental analysis...all was overlaid across his HUD. It was actually rather marvelous...the raw data detected by the sensor pack mounted on his shoulder was automatically translated by the environmental comp in his suit; allowing him detailed analysis of his surroundings.

Walking over to a vendor, he casually picked up one of the items...a pot by the looks of it. Focusing on it, the pineal sensor picked up his gaze, scanned the item, then returned pertinent data... 20% Carbon, 20% Silicates, 10% Ceramic, density at 15%, with a hardness of 1% compared to total available strength factor...pretty generic stuff. Setting the pot down, Dante focused on the vendor himself, a ping and a scan later, data yet again streamed down his display. Species Klatoonian, male, height at 1.7 meters, weight at 175 kilos, wearing clothing based primarily on animal wools and plant byproducts, energy signature under left breast pocket of jacket – consistent with a type B powerpak, a common power source for most blaster pistols – metallic mass located in subjects right boot, identified as durasteel, paired with a small yield energy signature...a vibroblade of some kind.

::This makes things SO much easier::

The Klatoonian looked at him quizzically, and Dante just shook his head, leaving the stall. All around him, the world seemed to be opened up...a world of motion and energy bands and comm signals. Ooh...comm signals. Focusing on what appeared to be bands of green light in the air, Dante focused on a particularly thick cluster around a particular sentient. Automatically, the broadband antenna synced with his helmets pineal sensor, and scanned through the spectrum until it found it’s target...there was a pop as speakers engaged, and then...

“Szzzzzzzzzzzz *SQEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLL* zzzzzzzzzzz”

Clapping his hands to his ears, and then frantically rolling his eyes about in his helmet, he eventually turned the loathsome noise off. And, right then and there, went through the settings to auto adjust all incoming speaker noise at a nice, tolerable, GENTLE drone.

::No more bleeding ears::

Now curious, Dante focused on the comm band once more, trying to figure out what had occurred. His suit possessed no algorithmic processor, and no comm analysis unit...thus so, it took him several moments to work out the issue: the comm band was encrypted. Apparently he wouldn’t be able to decipher encrypted comlink signals...something he would definitely need to invest in should he truly take up this bounty hunting business. And why not - he needed time to heal, to acclimate to his new condition. He wasn’t a complete novice when it came to the art of “normal” warfare. Bounty hunting would allow him to test his martial prowess without his powers...to see just what he was capable of.

But, there were a few more things to take care of – primarily, transportation. The AV-1s was built to have repulsors integrated into its armor, but Dante had long ago had the repulsor emitters switched with shield emitters. While not what it was designed for, the suit was nevertheless capable of powering a combination ray/energy shield over itself...and quite effectively; after all, its original function was to power a repulsor engine for thirty six hours. Now though, Dante had to question the choice. Shaking his head, Dante slowly headed towards a new vendor...looked like a small transportation dealer. Approaching the vendor, Dante keyed his external speakers.

::I need something small, one person, long range, moderately fast::

The vendor looked at Dante with a patented “Really? This same dance?” kind of look.

“With respect...your gonna have ‘t be a LOT more specific. We talking atmospheric? Space capable? I could sell you a glider and fill all those specs.”

Dante’s look can only be surmised in one way: -_-

::Ok then. One person, preferably atmospheric based, NON chemical – don’t want to deal with backwash and chem trails – high maneuverability, sustained flight, and decent altitude.”

Nodding his head, the Rodian vendor gestured for Dante to follow him as he walked from behind the kiosk, and a little deeper into his establishment. Gesturing at a display, the Rodian smiled(?) widely.

“Sky slasher. Fast, repulsor based, great battery life, and the highest maneuverability of anything you put your feet on. Altitude caps at a hundred or so meters.”

Silently, Dante stared at what essentially was a skateboard with repulsors. Picking the board up, he turned it over several times before setting it down.

::Only a hundred meters?::

The rodian shrugged.

“Repulsors are aligned in a double column bank laterally, that gives it an extremely large amount of maneuverability...not so much as far as altitude.”

Dante shook his head slowly after a few seconds.

::Can it hook up to a micro processor?::

The Rodian looked a little doubtful.

“There’s not exactly a lot of room for add ons and mods...it’s literally a board with an engine. But, if you want something that’s compatible with your armor, why don’t you go the tried and true jetpack way? A personal propulsion device might fit your needs, and your armor looks to already have propulsion mounts.”

Now it was Dante’s turn to look doubtful.

::I’m not exactly a fan of jetpacks. They have a tendency to accidentally go off. Besides, the range sucks::

The rodian held up a finger and led the pair over to a new stand.

“Not so sir! What we have here are repulsorpacks...decent battery life, decent range, decent altitude...they can perform at jetpack standards but for much longer durations...they’re practically built for sustained flight.”

Dante crossed his arms, still not convinced.

::I want statistics...not “decent”::

With a huff, the rodian pulled out a datapad, and after a few seconds, began rattling off some numbers.

“Eight hours battery life on self contained battery pack, top speed of one hundred kilometers an hour – slightly slower than a chemical pack – with an altitude of three hundred and fifty meters. Anything higher than that and she stalls. Micro control surfaces along the back of the pack help with maneuvering, while an auto stabilizing gymbal helps you maintain direction, capable of hover mode, and a quick start of five seconds. Micro processor compatible, recognizing most standard HUD interfaces, with the exception of VISTA operating systems...maneuverability is a little laggy at three seconds to fully change your direction at a ninety degree angle.”

Inside the helmet, Dante lifted an eyebrow.

::Your telling me it takes three seconds to make a turn?::

The rodian looked a little disgruntled, but crossing his arms otherwise held his ground.

“Comes with the territory, this is a travel aid, not an acrobats device. That’s also at top speed...you get ANYTHING going a hundred K and it’s not going to turn on a dime. At half to quarter speed, you could throw in a maneuvering thruster or two and get some incredible handling out of it.”

The rodian had a point...and without inertial compensators, he wouldn’t want to turn that fast anyway. With a slow nod, Dante gestured at one of the packs.

::What do you recommend for maneuvering?::

Walking over to a sportswear display, the rodian returned with what looked to be two armored boots.

“Mastergrav-1000’s...typically used in sports, but the things are reliable. I recommend them for maneuvering at higher altitudes, and as a supplement with your pack.”

There was a long silence as Dante looked at the set...before finally nodding his head slowly.

::Charge them to me::

With a gleeful look, the rodian rubbed his hands together as he handed the items – more like heaped! – into Dante’s arms. While the little creature rang up prices, Dante struggled to secure the pack onto his back – the rodian eventually coming back over and helping him. After triple checking that the brackets were firmly locked into place – the repulsorpack conveniently covering the powercell housing in the back of his armor – Dante told the alien his credit number as he pulled on the boots. Later, Dante would see if he couldn’t switch some of the plating and sensors over to these new boots. A few minutes later, and Dante was walking about the marketplace once more, looking for lab equipment. After a while, he found a medical technology kiosk – decent enough, but it wasn’t that impressive. He ended up purchasing a chem synthesizer unit, a molecular microscope, an analysis grid, and a molecular bioscanner. At another kiosk, he bought a holoreflector and macro analyzer, along with a specialized archeological microlab, a geological substrate analyzer, and a standard carbon dater. Just for kicks, he also bought a broad spectrum analysis unit, a few medical compounds for his darts, some sterile workbenches, a chair or two, and a pair of miniature generators.

-------------------------------------------------

Several hours after he had left, Dante returned to the crate with several small hoverloaders...laden with small to mid sized machines of various makes, models, and alien origin. Inwardly, he hoped Daniel knew how to read and operate alien technology...the stuff could be finicky. He didn’t see Jace around...he hoped that was a good thing. Quickly, he began setting up the workbenches along the walls of the crate, and then pushed a generator against either side of the crate. Once done, he began evenly distributing the tech inside the crate according to usefulness...arranging one side for visual analysis, and the other for chemical analysis. Once done, he got down on his hands and knees and began plugging in the various cords into the generators...and then...he was done. Sitting in one the chairs...Dante’s shoulders slumped, the hours of picking, shopping, selecting, and dealing with vendors – that while helpful – had utterly exhausted him. That and the fight with the Jekk...reclining in one of the chairs, Dante slowly leaned back...his body cushioned comfortably against the foamplast of the suit.

Finally, Dante went to sleep...hopefully not awakened for some time.

Something about space thrilled him, the vast emptiness of dark and silence is boring to most but open space was freedom and excitement thew his eyes. From hyperspace a dreadnaught heavy cruiser appeared in fair condition, its crew were in panic. The captain stood up from his chair then looked to his first officer. ..Is it ready. His officer nodded, it looked like they were all waiting for something. Moments later a Victory star destroyer appeared from hyperspace approaching the dreadnaughts right side. It was Captain Dyre and his crew, bunch of pirates running down the inferior for their goods and other supplies. The captain of the dreadnaught attempted to contact Dyre, it took a few moments but he took their call.

I should of known it was you in that destroyer, Alek Dyre. He said to him, then looked to his officer and received a nod in reference of the cargo they had on board. Alek smirked, his face partially concealed by his cloak. He stood up and lowered the hood.

You forgot Captain. He looked out into space at the Dreadnaught. And you better know its me who's coming, because It'll always be me who shows up, GOT IT?. He smiled, but that vanished and he crossed his arms. Now, we both have something in common right now. And that's your cargo, but only one of us can have that cargo. And it seems to me, I have the bigger ship.

He sometimes bragged about his ship, it was much better then the heap of garbage he had before. A bigger ship called for a bigger crew and since he could haul more cargo, he got more credits and could pay more crew members. Well then Captain. I guess you'll have to chase your precious cargo threw the Asteroid field ! Alek squinted his eyes then walked over to his right to one of his crew members. Scan the Asteroid field now.

He said to one of the crew, he looked out into space at the field until the crew member spoke. He's telling the truth...80 crates full. Alek brushed his fingers just above his mouth then shook his head, something wasn't right because he knew about the special cargo on board that ship and they wouldn't of given it up that easy. He returned to the coms and spoke to the dreadnaughts captain.

You're a fool. He said, just to let him know. I know what special cargo you may or may not currently have on board, the weapons, captain. Come on, I'm not easily fooled. Nice trick though, something an idiot would of believed. Something any other pirate would of killed you because of. Now, I'd like to stay and chat, not really but lets get back to business shall we?. Alek said, taking a bet that this man was bluffing. He waited for a response until he got one.

Captain Dyre, i assure you...we have no 'special' cargo. What your looking for is drifting into the field right now.
Alek had patients, but not a lot of it. He chuckled with a slight nod, kept the com link on and looked to his weapon control crew member. Arm the torpedoes and lock on to the ships life support. Make sure they die slowly..

The captain of the dreadnaught responded rather quickly.
OKAY! No one has to die here captain. I have the cargo your looking for. We'll send it over immediately, but i need your word that me and my crew will be left unharmed.

Alek wasn't a murderer, he was just good at bluffing and getting serious when he actually wasn't. Sounds fair.. He said then switched the coms off. He smirked then got a few of his crew and headed down to the hanger bay where the cargo would be received. The captain wasn't always successful in getting what he wanted, but usually when he wanted something he went for it and Alek liked to go big, such as blending his ship amongst an Imperial fleet and playing hide and go seek. Those were the times when he liked to play dangerous, now it wasn't so big time pirate type of guy. He merely tracked down small transport ships and stole valuables. Just like the crate of weapons he just received. After when his business was done, he took the ship out, heading back into hyperspace.

The sleep was deep...silent...fulfilling. Accompanied by dreams, he seemed to be surrounded by a miasma a rose scent, whirling blue and white colors, and gold...so much gold everywhere. As the dream faded away and Dante slowly stirred, it was only then that he realized that it was a dream of Serenna on the day she was taken. With a slow shake of his head, he froze at the confining restriction that seemed to clink to him like bubble wrap; just as quickly though, he calmed himself...the fact that he was wearing armor registering with his mind. Now wide awake, he slowly sat up, his suit coming out of sleep mode as he sent out a passive scan to check his surroundings - trying and failing to stifle a yawn as he did so. He froze though, as the suit chimed back a positive reading for about forty five contacts within sensor range.

"...We're not near the markets, are we."

No, they weren't. And in this section of hangar, he had yet to see more than a few techs and engineers scurrying around to refuel the ship...nothing like the crowd that was coming. Peeking out of the crates doors, Dante's eyes practically bugged out of his head at what he saw. Forty five armed soldiers in black plastoid, all carrying rifles and pistols, were marching in orderly formation towards the crate - and the ship. With a curse, Dante rushed out of the crate and towards the ship - ignoring the shouts behind him. His mind whirled as he tried to figure out how they had located him...he had initially thought that the comm burst from the trap in the crate hadn't given away their position - turns out, it just took them a LONG time to get here. Old Strahl wasn't THAT lazy about letting people suffer apparently...the lizard had become more cautious. Running into the ship, Dante exited with a pair of industrial repulsor clamps - used frequently to move cargo - and rushed out to the crate, clamping them on, before pulling the crate with a screech across the deck plating. Typically you needed four (one at each corner) to move a crate manually like this...but two, plus colossal strength, seemed to cut it. Yanking the crate along, Dante could see on his HUD that the troop formation was now running, abandoning all ranks, and quick approaching at a hundred fifty meters...hundred twenty five...one hundred...

::JACE. WE HAVE COMPANY!!!::

It took Indy nearly four seconds to decrypt the comm signal, an embarrassment which prompted the immediate re-assessment of her current decryption protocols to determine why she had gotten so slow, but when she finally replayed the contents of the message, her first action was to contact Oz in his lab.

Seymour.

Oh great, what does she want now? She's not still mad at me for that warship comment earlier, is she? "Yeah?" The young engineer was bent over a workstation fiddling with a diatium power cell and some sort of ring assembly that had a slot in one end for the power cell to slide into. The power cell itself was blackened and blown apart on one end, apparently not able to withstand whatever heinous test Oz had forced it to undergo. It's gotta be the plasma conduit variation in the power cell. This is the third one I've tried and every single one has reacted differently to the absorption field. Maybe I should start testing the plasma arc outside the containment unit first... get a reading on each cell's specific variances before plugging it into the recycler and blowing it apart again. Meh, it's worth a shot I guess.

Seymour, we are under attack.

Oz lurched in surprise and nearly swallowed the bolt he was holding between his teeth before managing to spit it out and reply. "We're WHAT! When? By who? Ships or soldiers?" If this is another play by the hutt cartels to steal my baby, I swear on my massive intellect that I will wipe them off the map.

The attackers identities are unknown at this time. Their infiltration team has been eliminated, but their target seems to believe they have access to several star destroyers and they managed to send a partial distress call.

"Star destroyers!? Who the..." Wait... the hutts don't use star destroyers. And the way she said target... "Indy, who was their target?"

The man who arrived with the crew of Galdaart Fel and subsequently received a large crate which turned out to be a trap. I believe his name is Dante.

Right. Not the hutts then. "Keep the lockdown activated and prep the hyperdrive. Whether those star destroyers show up or not, this location isn't safe anymore. We'll need to relocate." Those gorram frakkers think they can attack MY ship? "Send the recall to any ships that left and said they were coming back. We leave in an hour, star destroyers or not." Oz began stalking out of the workshop, his posture and expression reminiscent of a thunderhead, but Indy's voice caused him to turn back.

Seymour, I believe there is also a saboteur on board that survived the initial attack. I cannot locate him on scanners, but I have visual recordings of his entry into the Loronar medium transport known as the 'Red Cred'. He has yet to exit the ship.

"Fine, let this Dante guy know. But don't tell him I'm coming."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The comm inside Dante's helmet crackled to life again as Indy established a connection.

A single saboteur has survived the attack and is now hiding somewhere aboard the Red Cred. I would recommend a thorough visual search, as sensors appear to be ineffective.

And then the comm died and Indy was gone. Or as gone as she ever got while one was aboard the Independence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oz's temper hadn't cooled a single degree by the time he reached the Cred, and if anything he'd gotten even more amped up as his mind ran through all the possible scenarios the attack could have created (and I do mean ALL). "Where is he?"

Energy readings from his armor suggest that Dante is in the starboard engine compartment. (since there was plenty of time for Dante to get from the port engine to the starboard one while Oz was en-route) I still have no location on the saboteur.

"Fine." Was the only reply Oz gave as he stalked up into the Loronar and headed straight for the starboard engine housing, where he stood and waited until Dante finally backed out of the crawlspace. Uncrossing his arms as the man stood, he jabbed a finger toward his armored chest, somehow managing to ignore the massive height difference between himself at only five and a half feet and the armor-clad titan in front of him. "What the HELL did you get my ship mixed up in?"

"Gahgh!" The strangled gasp that escaped Oz's lips was about the farthest thing in the galaxy from dignified, and he bent double to prop himself up with hands on knees as he tried to regain his breath. Gorram frakkin' judo creeps! I should frakkin' ruin his armor for a week! Maybe make the comm system alternate between squealing and playing those terrible Justine Bibiere songs non-stop. Yeah, that'd show him. Once he did regain his breath however, a slightly cooler head prevailed and he managed to avoid downloading the pop artists first thirteen albums into the man's comm system. I guess he's as much a victim here as I am.

"I..." Deep breath. "Was not..." Just breath through it. "Sneaking!" His breaths started to come easier as he straightened up and faced the man. "Now answer my question!"

"Indy, contact their crew. Let them know what's going on." His voice had quieted considerably after Dante's urgent warning, but it still couldn't be considered a whisper. Who's this bozo think he is? Trying to sneak onto my ship and screw stuff up. Frak him. "Indy, everything electronic in this ship is about to shut down. Get ready to run a scan." If this guy is using some kind of stealth tech, his day is about to get a lot more screwed up than mine. Closing his eyes and focusing, he reached out with his mind and began locating every piece of technology inside the Loronar. It took him a few seconds, but once he found them all, he sent a single mental command. Deactivate. The ship instantly went dark, all the tech inside it succumbing to the simple command, and Oz dropped unceremoniously to the deck with a thud. Turns out the human mind has to actually practice these sorts of things in order to properly handle the strain. Who knew?

With the mental command gone, all the devices onboard the ship suddenly flared back to life, revealing his prone form on the floor mere seconds after the darkness had begun. That was more than enough time for Indy, however, and her scans from outside the Loronar had easily pinpointed the location of the suddenly visible saboteur before his stealth systems could re-engage.

He is in the lower hold.

Even as she sent the message to Dante, another message was being sent to the Independence's medbay, summoning a medical team to retrieve Oz's unconscious form.

Jace was in the lift between the ground floor that held the stowage and the main compartments which held all of the crew essentials when his commlink rang out. He pulled it from his belt, staring at it as the situation donned on him. Who in the Force would be assaulting them on a ship like this? They must be pretty serious or at least close with the captain to be able to get on this vessel. The possibilities ran through his head while the lift approached the lounge. Was it the Jekk, or whatever they were called? Hopefully not, he did not like those things. He'd take a fierce firefight or a losing battle over those brainless monsters any day. Death Watch? Most likely not. They would have assaulted Saffia first if they wanted to be rid of the Emerald Blades, and he would have heard by now. His old arch-nemesis-now-acquaintance, the Pirate King? Nah, they had left off on a good note. Had the remnants of the Hellborn Military arrived to end their old ally?

As the lift doors opened and Jace ran down the hallway towards his bunk, his hand knotted into a white knuckled fist just at the thought of it. He sincerely hoped it was them. He would run-through and dismember every last one of those nerf-herders if he had the chance. And when he was through with them and standing before Ramiel, he'd be sure to make him pay. Make him pay dearly for what he had done to Linn.

Jace reached his bunk room and rushed to the locker, swiftly yanking it open and delving into the contents within. He placed his A280 Blaster Rifle and several powerpacks on the table next to him and pulled out his tactical vest. While he did have his combat armor, he needed something quick and effective to carry his ammunition and gear in times like these. Slipping on and zipping up his vest, he packed the pockets with his extra magazines and slapped on of them into his rifle. Taking one of his head sets out he placed it on his head and connected it to his commlink which now rested in his left breast pocket. Ready for a fight, Jace left the bunk room with his weapon in hand, ready to smite the scum that decided to attack.

But as he jogged down the hall, the cool demeanor and level head he adopted into his firefighting technique took over. He wouldn't see any of his old foes out on that hanger floor. None of them would be able to find him out here at the least. No, these guys were after somebody else. One of the crew members who had a dirty or secretive past. Just then Dante sprinted past him from the cockpit, heading down to the other levels while yelling another warning to him. Jace refrained from hitting himself now that it was so obvious. Who else would attract trouble like this other than one person. Dante. He slowed to a stop and watched his friend run down the hallway.

"I heard you the first time! Who do we have on our doorsteps this time?"

Jace didn't wait for a response as he realized what Dante must be doing. He'd done it plenty times before, and had practically every one of his ships modified in such a way. That being said he had damaged just as many by taking the safeties off. Turning around, he made his way up into the cockpit so that he could begin the start-up sequence the second Dante had finished. Slinging his gun around the seat, Jace got himself ready to start the ship up once he got the call. Instead he received a little information on the situation (finally) and an order to get the crew back onto the ship. He sighed, pressing the transmitter button on his commlink to Dante while he prepped a message to be sent to the crew members.

Star Destroyers? Who the hell did you invite to this party?

Jace released the button on his personal commlink and pushed the one on the ship's communications board.

This is Jace. We've got a lot of company headed our way and we need to leave now. Get back to the ship ASAP.

As he finished, a little light on the console blinked red. Dante must have finished. Jace quickly went to work starting up the systems. Diagnostics systems were online. Shield systems were coming online. Life support systems... suddenly shut off. As did everything. He was left in the dark for a few seconds before the lights came on. That was very strange. And he knew ships well enough that he knew Dante had nothing to do with it. Something else was amiss. Grabbing his blaster rifle, Jace made his way down to the engine room via the ladder route.

He cautiously dropped down the last hatch, letting the Force cushion his fall to make it nearly silent. It was empty except for a single form on the floor. He stepped over to what looked to be the man who was working on Fel's ship and droid. Jace took a knee beside him and checked for a pulse, noting that it was still fairly strong. That... and there was something else different about him. He could feel some sort of residual energy coming off of him. Whether it was from the Force or something else, he couldn't tell. Nevertheless, he had to continue on. The mechanic would be fine.

The door to the engineering department opened and Jace stepped into the stowage area with his weapon ready. But he saw nobody. He spotted several pock marks on the floor and walls. There was scuff marks on the floor leading to the cargo hold. That is when the sounds of a struggle could be heard, as well as distinct whine of a vibro-blade. Jace rushed over to the hold doors and opened them, weapon ready and adrenaline starting to pump in his system in anticipation of a fight.



Jace stopped and simply looked over at the form on the floor beside him, wondering where he had come from. A second later he was answered when Dante rolled through and put the finishing touches on the man, putting him into the ceiling followed by ramming him into the wall. Jace had witness much more brutal methods that his friend had used in the past, but even Jace had to admit that was up there on the list. He lowered his weapon as Dante checked for a pulse and miraculously found one.

"Friend of yours?"

Seeing that Dante was intent on dragging the poor agent across the floor, Jace took a few steps lead and opened the lift doors. He noted the streak of blood on the walls and the one trailing behind the limp form.

"You know we just got this place cleaned of my blood."