STARSTUCK:Rocket Punk

Join Kaylin and Felix, a Mercenary team hired to do a job In New Orleans in the post apocalyptic United States

The cold steel of the command deck was covered in red. Steam rose from blood and viscera. The bodies littered the ground: each one curled up, now free from fear. The heads were blown apart, turned into sick parodies of life. She stood there in the center of the maelstrom of the dead, the black folds of her suit soaked with blood, her arms hanging  while her hands gripped white knuckled to the twin Super Colt Customs. The handguns smoked with a receiver empty of rounds: the firing mechanism hot, heavy. She stood there. The pale, emotionless expression of her face juxtaposed by splashes of crimson dripping like water down her face. She stared at one of the bodies- nearly a corpse, given the shallow breaths she was taking. The woman twisted in agony, eyes shut, with several leaking bullet holes spewing her life. Her eyes shot open, and she jolted up, looking straight into her doppelganger's eyes. The clothed one with the guns, and the naked one with the blood stained hands. One could not tell the difference between the dead and the living here; the way both of them stood, pained and painted by both victory and defeat.

“Is this what we were all along?” The woman wept. She fell to her knees and whimpered as the woman brought the Colt to her forehead. The room echoed with the sound of the gunshot.

Kaylin’s eyes fluttered open. A long, warm breath escaped as she remained completely still, stumbling out of  the cloudiness of sleep. The simple cloth sheets bunched against her as she scanned ...The room ...Her room. On The Little Nemo, Safe. No one in here but her. The morning sun shone through a recycled glass window located high above the bed in her chamber. She pushed herself up, swinging her legs to the floor, flinching from the chill of the steel plates. To her left was her nightstand, on which sat a single Colt, the maple grip resting next to a bottle of gun polish. She took the gun to check the chamber and the clip, and then switched the safety on. Kaylin took a second, smiling, turning it over like a baby in her hands, admiring the brass laid slide and the cobalt black trigger and hammer.

She stood, her feet adjusted to the cold of the floor as she walked to her closet, pulled on a old faded pair of jeans,  keeping her nightshirt. She brushed her messy, badly cut hair with her hands as she began to walk down the hallway, her stomach demanding food.

Kaylin swore to herself, cursing the designer who decided to place the recreation area and the sleeping quarters on two separate floors. she pulled herself up the ladder into the kitchen. The air was lousy with the smell of fried eggs and cooked vegetables; Felix, the mechanic for The Little Nemo was busy preparing a healthy, nutrition-filled breakfast for himself and his pilot.

Kaylin took the last rung with catlike grace, making no noise pulling herself into a crouch, using the island to block Felix’s view to her. Felix was always trying to get her to eat “healthier” than her usual diet of pre-war packaged food and chips, which usually consisted of an ecological mixture of vegetables, fruits, grains and proteins in some odd combination. It's always the same logic to him, Kaylin thought as she pulled herself upright, opening the cabinet behind the ladder porthole and grabbing a bag of chips. The rulebook of-

“ The rulebook of the ICPS dictates that we must supplement edibles acquired on mission with as much healthy and nutritious produce as can be obtained for reasonable prices, “ lectured Felix, with slight disappointment in his voice. Kaylin turned around, a bag of chips in her left hand. Caught red handed. Felix stood looking at her, eyebrows furrowed, with a skillet full of green peppers, tomatoes, and onions in hand, his right hand propped on his hip.

Kaylin shut the cupboard, making narrowed eye contact with Felix. She didn't feel like arguing over the points made on the rulebook, the practicality of the advice inside, or the fact that they weren’t even in the Intercontinental Police Service anymore. These conversations lead nowhere at the end of the day, so she merely brought out the trump card.

“You do realize I am the captain of this ship?” Kaylin asked irritably, raising an eyebrow at Felix. A slight smile grew on Felix’s face.

“And a captain should make sure not to become sick due to a lack of nutrients in a critical moment.” Felix responded, grinning victorious, feeling her lack of fight in this matter today. Kaylin sighed, smirking. For someone who was such a stickler for “Rules” he sure ignored the hierarchy of command. But, that's why she liked him- he didn't stick by the books rules - the book reinforced his rules, as stupid as they were... Kaylin took a seat at the island , setting the bag of chips aside her.

“So, what’s for breakfast today, then. Wakey wakey eggs and veggies?” Kaylin asked, leaning into the counter.

“Aww, come on, give me a little more credit than that. Stir fried vegetable medley, served with egg on top and some oatmeal on the side.”

Kaylin rolled her eyes. “Sounds like window dressing for grown crap and eggs.” Kaylin ripped open the bag of chips, it letting out a loud pop. Felix had a double take.

“Hey, wait a min-” Felix complained, but was silenced by Kaylin, who pointed at him,  hand curled around a chip.

“ Oh no. If we are playing by the rulebook, mister Inspection officer it specifically says your healthy produce SUPPLEMENTS, not replaces, on-site edibles. So, you can shut your mouth, and let me eat.” Kaylin reasoned. Felix stood perplexed for a moment, and cracked a large smile, shrugging.

“Fine, you win.” Felix admitted. Kaylin’s mouth drew into a grin, as she chomped down on the large chip, beating Felix at his own game.

Felix served himself and Kaylin a plate. Kaylin took the plate and began to work through the dish. It wasn't that Felix was a bad cook- Nay, he was one of her favorite cooks, thanks to his science background from the ICPS schools, which didn’t hinder his passion for cooking. She wasn’t against vegetables or eating healthy. She just hated sitting down awkwardly for 20 minutes, having to listen to chewing noises and make small talk- which was abysmally hard for her. Fortunately, Felix had something to pointedly talk about, as he picked up a rolled up plastic map and spread it in between them on the island.

“So, what’s the next job opening we should check for?” He asked, scratching his nose and uncapping a small marker. Felix and Kaylin worked as mercenaries, guns for hire who only took jobs on one assumption; no jobs as a result of revenge or malice. They were mercenaries, not assassins. Kaylin chewed in thought for a moment. She circled a broken heart on the map with a dry erase marker.

“When's the last time we stopped in to talk to Heartbreak?”

“Mm….. two months ago? Let's see.” Felix began to count off his fingers. “The Helix job took three weeks, Abraham gave us that… That investigation of Little China took 2 weeks, and we took a total of him, 8 days off. Yeah, about two months. Then again, we’d want to stop by anyways.”

“Why?” Kaylin queried. Felix smiled.

“It's always nice to see Henry.” Kaylin gave out a small laugh. Henry was quite a… character. Such a soft hearted man for the owner of a hiring company. Kaylin drew out a path through air currents and thermals, and finished her breakfast, jumping up and picking up the map, rolling it up.

“Any problems with the old b***h?” Asked Kaylin, crumpling up the bag of potato chips, and tossing the trash in the garbage. Felix was shocked, strapping the dishes into the cupboard, and then frowned while he lowered the island into the floor through a rack and pinion system that click-click-clicked.

“D-Don't call it a b***h! Nemo’s engine is a rugged mare. I swear, It’s way more reliable than any of those Mustang's gauge systems. Those things would pop a gasket if you even dropped in slight ounce more of Fuel than was recommended.”

“Come on, she’s a dump! admit it.”

“ Name one thing wrong with her!” Felix asked, with a huff. Kaylin, stood next to the ladder looked unimpressed at Felix, as she tossed the map up to the next floor.

“Ladders.” She said as she mounted the ladder to the cockpit.

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

The cockpits of rockets were intense networks of steel wires and dials to control the  wings and inner mechanics of the ship. This was done to allow the rockets to both take off and land with ease. The only problem is balancing out the need of steering and engine maintenance. It’s what brought forth the ICPS (InterCapital Police Service) Mechanic - Pilot system, which Kaylin and Felix used to be dutiful partners of. The Pilot was the leader, in charge of all combat, navigational, and out on the field decisions. The Mechanic was to follow the Pilot's decisions, to the best of his/her ability. The Mechanic was also in charge of day to day maintenance, repair, and a variety of technical skills required to operate a Rocket. Or, as Kaylin liked to simplify it as, “I point, He shoots.”

Kaylin pulled herself up the ladder, moving past over the naugahyde seat and then into the red plastic. The chair stood parallel to the floor, bolted to the side of the cabin. The cockpit was enclosed by a mass recycled plastic dome, that encompassed the entirety of the nose of the rocket. Kaylin, doing a brief overview of the tension gauges on the various puppetries of the ship. After doing a full system check, Kaylin pulled up a CB radio attached to the command deck, and switched the radio on.

“How are we doing down there? Almost ready to go?” She crackled through the radio.

“Just about. Almost finished shaping the Fuel.” Felix replied, the faint sounds of scraping metal and thumping of pipes being heard over the crackling radio.

Felix, as a Wrench, was in charge of managing Fuel and various piping systems for water, coolant and other inter-ship functions. Felix used a putty knife to mold 6 ounces of the stuff in a vague conelike shape on the blastbell of the ship, which was a large steel cone  with a small spike at the center of the bell. With a quick pull of an adjacent lever, the blast shell lowered into the outside of the ship, preventing the extreme heat and fumes from entering the ship. Felix then, in a moment of paranoia, ran his fingers along the seal, checking for air. After two sweeps, Felix, satisfied, pulled up his radio and switched the speaker on.

“Ready to go. Just say when.” Felix said.

A huge smile grew on Kaylin's face. She felt that welling tension deep in her stomach. As much as she bashed the ship, the old girl was always a beauty to fly.

“Three.”

Kaylin locked the seat, preventing the wheels from rolling around, and gave a last check of temperature gauges and pressure.

“Two.”

Time began to slow everything around her as she drained herself of emotion, her face growing more and more slack. She pulled into herself, feeling her body go hollow.

“One.”

Kaylin closed her eyes, and braced herself for the incoming shock.

“Go.”

The rocket’s small pile of Fuel was hit with a small spike of heated aluminum. Like the birth of the universe, from nothing came a giant, deafening blast of energy, burning the iconic green flames under the ship as the purple knife shot off into the sky like a bolt from the blue. The ship shuddered as the metal was propelled blazing into the sky. Kaylin, however, was suspended in time moving at a slow pace, herself outside of her body, but still feeling the steady flow of blood coursing like a stream through her body. Her eyes darted, as she gives blank looks from dial to dial. .001 units off course. A slight flick of the control stick fixed that. Kaylin's body felt of being suspended in water above the ground. Of being kept aloft by your own thoughts. Any moment you break concentration you’ll fall plummeting to the ground- even though there's no actual danger of falling, Just failing.

5 miles.

6 miles.

10 miles.

And then thirty. Kaylin pulled the nose of the rocket down hard, letting the hunk of avalon's and speedlines move along the curvature of the earth rather than from the planet’s gravitational grasp.. She let herself relax, her face feeling filled, the droning sound of blood coursing into her head. She was back to herself, the emotion of joy filling her body. Her radio chirped with Felix whooping.

“Nice!!! I could feel how perfect that takeoff was! Atmospheric pressure has been equalized.. these pipes won’t burst anytime soon. Air pressure in the ship is normal…. You feeling alright in the cockpit?” Felix inquired, releasing the speak button, taking a second to monitor the thermometers near the shell as the Fuel gave a dull roar through the back of the ship.

“Uh, yeah. That was a hell of a takeoff, wasn't it?” Kaylin said, still recovering from her drain, but filled with a sense of pride and excitement towards the praise. Kaylin then leaned back, drumming the arm of the chair. Nothing to do but watch the sunny skies and the yellow weedlands below her as she directed the Little Nemo.

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

The rocket screamed as the landing gear neared the ground, back first due to a set a manuvers orchestrated by Kaylin's commands. The Fuel was almost fully combusted, but due to an unexpected thermal updraft, they had a minute left to burn. The pilot shifted back away from her mind, making the micro adjustments needed to keep the ship stable while the lady had her fit. She spied from her window the titular Heartbreak Henry.

Henry was a heavyset man with a thick carpet of hair on his forearms and a brow that would let someone assume he descended from cavemen. The way he came upon his name has two variants- He either used to be a casanova who broke so many hearts that he decided to open up a mercenary business to try to support all the illegitimate children he had spawned, or, from those who had seen him naked, from the large glass porthole that was placed in his chest, to allow the quick removal and replacement of a heart in case he had the 6th heart failure of his lifetime. Both were correct. Henry, clad in khakis and a button up collared shirt with a tie, walked forward, arms crossed, tapping his booted foot.

Finally, the rocket fizzed out, as the dock stands clanked to the ground hard, the ground below them scorched black. A small, smooth door that blended into the side popped open, with a rope ladder tumbling out, followed by Felix tumbling out, giddy with excitement as he hopped out the ladder and ran towards a smiling Heartbreak. For mercenaries, life was too short to not take joy in seeing friends.

“Henry! How are you, you old b*****d? I'm so glad you haven't keeled over of age yet! Planning a retirement yet?” Felix poked, shaking Henry's hand and giving him a quick hug.

“Heh, Not yet, Wild one. Have you finally derived Kay off with your spaziness?” Henry joked, peering out below his eyebrows at the hatch. Kaylin stepped out, fully clothed in her standard attire- A coal black suit, matched with a light blue plaid tie and a white button up. The clothes were a complex fiber weave that would stop most small arms rounds- Another gift of service from the ICPS. The suit had not a crease in the black weave, and seemed to deflect the dirt around Kaylin, remaining pristine even in contact with the dust cloud kicked up by the ship. Henry gave out a long wolf whistle, and began to yell:

“Hey, b***h, maybe next time try to get dressed as you send an alert to the ICPS of me camping on their doorstep? What was up with the flailing about you just did?”

Kaylin walked forward, grinning.

“It's good to see you too, old fart.” Kaylin gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Henry waved the two of them towards the door.

“I just got a shipment of some food. A bit of everything. Care to join me for a quick lunch?”

“It's like 11 in the morning!” scoffed Felix.

“It's 1 o'clock somewhere, friend. Come in, come in.”

Henry’s home was a lie, simple as that. The country home had a plain exterior, with one big blue door, two windows on each side of the house, and a rustic treated wood color covering the house’s walls. The roof was a deep green, and honestly, the whole place looked way too out of place for the fact the abode stood completely alone, Like a sort of one house Levettown. However, past the spacious front room and wing, you enter the service room, where Henry did business- Endless rows of files kept in perfect alphabetical order, a table with requests spread out, and a room off from the work room that contained a small armory, just in case if a client decided he didn't like his rates. Henry was a first class man, a philanthropist who owned a mercenary hiring company that was an incredible success. What's to note is, at the top of any ad for the place, and through word of mouth, theres always one non negotiable rule- No unwarranted attacks or murders. Henry reasoned, “If you are going to kill a man, that’s in between you and him.”

Henry shut the folders, collecting the papers and setting them aside at the card table. He offered two chairs for Felix and Kaylin. Henry grabbed a loaf of bread and canned ground pork, splitting the metal holdings open with a knife and spreading it on the bread. He sat down, sandwich in hand as he pulled the top folder from a stack to the right of Kaylin.

“Luckily, I just got the plans for a job that looks right up your alley. However,  There's a caveat.” Henry mentioned after swallowing a bite of his sandwich, dabbing away crumbs with the side of his shirt. Kaylin’s fingers twitched. She wanted a cigarette, and when she wanted a cigarette, it meant that whatever Henry is about to say won’t be good.

“What's up, Henry? You know we feel the same way about dirty jobs.” Felix replied, leaning forward in concern.

“No, I understand.” Henry put his hand on his heartport. “Heartbreak doesn't mean stopping lives, it means hurting them to get stronger, to protect others. The client is… different. She told me not to tell people the specifics, which is usually a red flag, but…. I know her. I can promise she’s one of the good guys. But all I can say is, you need to go to Dallas.”

“And?” Kaein pried, the feeling of paper on her lips.

“And nothing. I can't tell you anything else. I'm sorry. Again, I wouldn’t let this stand normally, but, I know her.”

“Did you…. You know?” Felix asked, arching an eyebrow and leaning back. Henry began to guffaw.

“No, no! Nothing like that, but, well, it was a mutual kind of attraction, just… Never acted on, you know? Nothing ever came of it.” Henry chuckled, eyes glazed with reminiscence. Kaylin coughed, snapping Henry back as he shut the folder.

“Ah, yes, but I can promise that it will certainly be well paying, even with my 20% cut. She’s good for that.” Kaylin’s lips pursed in thought. This had shady all written over it, even for a mercenary business, but Henry swore by the client's credibility.

“I don't know, Kaylin… But, well, You can confirm she's up to it, right?” Felix asked, tapping his foot rapidly. Henry wiggled the folder, taking a bite of the sandwich again, and swallowing.

“I do know exactly what the job involved. Trust me, you’ll be ok. What’s the answer, champs?”

Felix looked at Kaylin with expectation. Her eyes were closed in thought, as she thought of what bits about Dallas she had heard of in recent months…. aside from the regular attempts at organizing the city into some form of power factory for the ICPS, which happened everywhere anyways. Kaylin opened her eyes, and calmly replied.

“ Henry, if you think she’s trustworthy… we’ll do it. You haven’t led us wrong yet.” Henry gave a small smile, and finished his sandwich with one big bite.

“Good. I already sent the letter.”  Henry responded, guffawing.

“For f**k’s sakes, Henry! Again? You are the worst.” Kaylin groaned. Henry continued to laugh, slapping his leg.

“You’ll receive further instruction from there. Head to the main marketplace, and buy a beef kabab and honey” With that, Henry walked into the armory, the squeaking of a cage opening as both Felix and Kaylin stood. Felix gave a concerned look at Kaylin, with those damn puppy dog eyes.

“What.” Kaylin said, perturbed. She had a feeling-

“Are you totally sure about this?” Felix responded, cocking his head and looking worried. Kaylin gave a sigh, grabbing her hip and turning to Felix. “No, I'm not. But with this amount of red tape, that means this will be well paying. we might not have to work for a month. We could go, I don't know...Australia's nice this time of year, I hear.” Felix shook his head.

“If we go to Australia, we should do it in the spring, at the very least. I like the states when it’s colder. Maybe hang out in Boston? Oh, what am I saying. Let’s hurry up and go.” Felix shrugged, and stood up shaking his head. At the end of the day, Felix trusted Kaylin’s judgement when it came to this sort of thing. Reading meters and engine hums, that he could do, but reading people was a whole other can of worms. Kaylin stood up, and indicated Felix to follow her. Whatever was in Dallas, it sure as hell wasn’t going to get any better by waiting.

The rocket touched down about 6 miles away from Dallas. No one ever went above ground in the town without some form of protection from the sun. The massive ozone layer hole meant that even towns a good distance from the U.S. Mexico line would get scorched within hours. Dallas was a mole town, an interconnected network of tunnels from oil prospectors back in the day. People rarely ventured outside for these reasons, staying underground or in air conditioned buildings, chilled with ice and fans.

Luckily for the crew of the Little Nemo, a journey into the underground was unnecessary: Large reformed refrigerator trucks had been modified for a quick, comfortable journey into the city, and one happened to be waiting for them. The truck was a shiny aluminum, with a faded decal of a laughing cow with his fully formed, marinated ribs falling out of him. Small puffs of exhaust floated out and up from the tailpipe. Felix, after a quick bargaining match with a short, red haired driver, gave him 5 clips of 9mm as payment, and hopped in with Kaylin. The frosty wind billowed out of the door as Kaylin pulled the metal sheeting open, with a pair of blankets thrown on some welded metal sheets as a form of insulation. After standing outside, the freezing winds were inviting to Kaylin, as she plopped down upon the seat, shivering as her spine hit the back of the cold metal. Felix sat close to the edge of the seat, trying to minimize contact with the cold chill of the seat. The fans loudly blew into the tiny metal case, blanking out the noise of the road. The driver kept taking peeks back at them through a window encrusted with ice, revealing that the driver seating was also sharing the insulation of the back. He was wearing now a parka, mittens, and a gas mask.

Wait…  Kaylin thought. A loud hissing filled the chamber. Felix lifted his shirt immediately to his mouth, indicating that Kaylin to do the same. Kaylin buttoned up her suit, and hopped over to the door, digging her hands towards the seal. THe door seemed to have been sealed well enough that she wouldn’t be able to pull it open. Her head began to feel heavy, as the fumes dived around the impromptu mask and into her nostril, smelling sweet. She turned around to the sound of gentle knocking, spotting a collapsed Felix near the small window, rapping on it before slumping over. Her gun slipped out of the holdster, her hand waving as she lined up a shot. BANG. The pilot fell to the ground on her rear, the kick of the pistol near impossible to handle in her dazed state. The last thing she remembered was the driver staring back with wide, angry eyes through the gasmask, glancing back to the road to Dallas.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ed fruit. That was her first conscious thought. He second conscious thought was Must be a basement... Her left eye was bruised shut, but she felt her back cold against a wall- wet stone. Not metal.

Distantly, she could hear the whimpering of a man, and the scratching of metal against concrete. At that moment, she shifted, and realized that she was against Felix’s coat. She narrowed her mouth into a grim. She felt a hand pull on her hair to force her up, shifting her body to a straight up sitting position, forcing her right eye open. A large, bulky man with a thin mustache stood in front of her, in periwinkle blue gloves, wearing a faded tweed jacket. He rubbed his mustache, and looked to his right, and Kaylin followed his eyes.

That whimpering was in the same room she was. Laying on the floor, with his headskin ripped and shredded on the top of the left temple was a man dressed unusually well. Her eyes traced down his bloodied pants to the set of black combat boots standing confidently in between his legs. Her eyes followed the boots, moving up the calves to see a bright bubblegum pink dress, with large lapels and ripples. It was a nice dress, prewar, kept in mint condition… aside from the red splashes of blood resting on the hem. Moving further up- Is that a corset? She looked down the woman's arms, which were capped with red fingerless evening gloves. She held a baseball bat, with nails driven into the tip, the sharp ends of the nail being sawed off, leaving only the heads of the nails standing on the outside of the bat. The woman was capped off with platinum blond hair, that seemed to catch the light and throw it back into a persons eyes. In a different situation, You would've said she was beautiful. Now, she was an enemy, who had a mean looking slugger and looked like Kaylin was the next target.

“You know, it’s kind of funny, in a way - how this whole thing turned out.” The woman said with the voice of a brass bullet casing hitting the floor as she turned her back to the man, twirling the bat in a circle.

“L-Look, Mrs. Queen, please, I wasn't, I didn't-” The man pleaded. With a flash, Queen turned around, bringing the bat overhead and smashing it into his raised knee cap, extending his leg and leaving a sharp crack coming from the hit. He yelled, tears streaming down his face as he let out an elaborate line of curses.

“Oh! Oh! OH. So reporting my EVERY F*****G MOVE AND LOCATION was not spying. Nor was listening in on my conversations with Ember? Or perhaps the strange ability for the Southern Front Army to swoop in EVERY F*****G TIME I tried to give rations to the people YOU REFUSE TO FEED? Yeah, I get it.” Queen swept her hair to the right, revealing her shaved side, with scar tissue being impressed into the side of her head, like a side swipe of a bullet. Queen picked up the spy by his collar, looking into his eyes with a displeased expression, to the point where the spy looked away in shame.

“This is what you are going to do. You are going to go back to your fancy leaders and tell them you escaped on an inch of your life. That I broke that kneecap with endless delight. You’ll get a medal, get some rest. But for now on? You are my b***h. You are my little spider, my fly on the wall. Understood? “ Queen’s eyes flashed with malicious glee. ”

The man whimpered and nodded, the right side of his face swollen and closed, blood dribbling from where Queen’s bat had left an impression. The alpha let go of his collar, letting him fall to the floor as the other woman stepped forward, a bottle of whiskey in hand, and gave it to the man to drink. As he brought it to is lips, she coaxed the bottle up, feeding the liquid down his throat, like a mother does for a baby. This woman, while wearing much more conservative clothing, gave a feeling of more elegance and queenliness than Queen did. It was a plain green business dress that clung to her body, with a simple rope necklace on her throat. She was a dark shade of mahogany. There was no detectable emotion on her face, with her eyes concieled by green aviators.

Queen wiped off her bat and turned her attention to Kaylin. Kaylin’s right eye glared with steel at Queen.

“Hey, Boss, the other b***h is-” scoffed Queen, turning to the woman beside her, before

Kaylin stepped in.
“Cut the crap. I want to talk to you, not good cop over there.”

Queen looked bored at Kaylin, sticking a finger in her ear. The other woman, on the other hand, cracked a slight smile. Bingo.

“So, Queen, I'm guessing you set this up to see our loyalty? That a quick session of torture to see if we were worth our salt?” Kaylin raised her right eyebrow. She saw it then- The flash of something deeper in Queen- a calculated, measured splash of intelligence as she thought this through.

The feeling of the nail bat crashing against the side of her head was enough to send Kaylin's stomach rolling. Ok, maybe she was wrong. She saw through blurred eyes the spy being carried over the shoulder by the mustached man. Queen screamed like a child, fussed about with the hem of her dress as Mustache walked out the room, the large metal door closing and…. the screaming beginning to fade, as she was tugged to a sitting position. She felt a handkerchief dap against her bruised eye and found it to be from… Queen, with her hair swept back over her shaved portion.

“Sorry about that. Stepping out of character would of ruined everything I was trying to do. Points for calling me out though, but I bet your familiarity with Henry helped out?” Queen said, in a calm, thoughtful voice with a posh accent tempered by adrenaline. Kaylin didn’t say anything. “I’m guessing Henry told you he had a thing for blondes, didn’t he? “Queen pulled out a small Kabar, and used it to slice the ropes binding Kaylin as the other woman helped a now awake-and-very-much-confused Felix catch up to speed. Queen sheathed the knife and gave a demure laugh.
“Oh, that Henry. I take it you are Kaylin? I'm glad, we can skip the whole nasty torture segment!” Kaylin bristled at that line. Felix stood up, and walked to the bar, looking with curiousity at Queen

“Ok, I understand the whole process of testing our honesty, but… Didn’t Henry vouch for us?” Felix questioned, leaning forward on the bar. Her back was turned, examining the shelves of booze. With grace, she pulled down a bottle of sherry and set three glasses down in front of Felix, who promptly pushed one back. “Um, I don’t drink.” Shrugging, Queen turned around , placing the glass back.

“I don’t trust anyone. It’s nothing personal, Just something You have to pick up fairly early on in my line of work.” She began, mixing a gin and tonic. The other woman picked up the glass of sherry and gave it a delicate drink. “I figured, Shake them around a little, frighten the f**k out of them, and see if they crack immediately. So, Kaylin, I assume you to be a sherry-”

*Click*

Kaylin stood, colt trained right on Queen’s forehead. Queen held her gin and tonic in a dull way, looking disappointed at Kaylin. Felix sat up ramrod straight, alarmed. The other woman, on the other hand, still sat eyes to her wine glass, ignoring Kaylin's obvious intentions. Kaylin’s hands were wrapped around the gun, with the safety disarmed.

“Um. Well, way to make this awkward K.”

“Don’t call me K. Step away from the bar. I'm not risking anything.” Kaylin commanded. Queen stepped back, taking a sip of the drink.

“I'm not either, Kaylin. This had no abusive intentions behind it. I simply needed to see if you had what it takes.”

“So hitting me in the face is a good way of seeing “What it takes?” Gee, let's see if you have what it takes to do whatever the f**k you are doing with a bullet in your head.”

“Kaylin….” Felix pleaded, eyes darting from the still bored woman in the corner and the door, waiting for Mustache to burst in.

“Seriously, Felix?! She hit me in the head with a f*****g bat! Who does that??”

“Kaylin, you are walking out of here alive regardless if you accept my offer. Pulling that trigger confirms your fate, but leaving your finger off of it makes sure you walk out of here alive, or possibly richer. I'll get one of my doctors to patch you up, as it was with no ill will. So please, drop the gun. I've done all the actions, and not enough of the talking.” Queen mused.

Slowly, Kaylin lowered the gun. Everything did add up.. Henry’s hesitation, the way she acted when the spy was out of the room, the calm demeanor of Number 2 over in the corner and the absence of weight in the gun.

“The gun’s empty, isn't it?” Kaylin sighed.

“You got me. Drink?” Queen responded with humor in her voice.

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

Queen formally introduced herself over the glass of wine. Her full name was Queen King-“Ridiculous, I know. My father was a big fan of poeticism.”- and she had been slowly conquering Texas, starting in the town of Dallas for the last 5 years,  establishing power over all the small gangs present after the war, making them into her own personal army. What she swore by, however was that her influence was for the better.

“Without my vast influence, eventually, some warlord would of stepped up and taken control, and promptly lead to civil war and attacking other towns for resources. And, assuming this warlord was not an immortal, his death would cause a massive power struggle, and cause any dominion he had established to shatter. I, however, plan for such an event, by constantly combing the world for new potential leaders. Like Ember over here- I found her operating a small group of petty thieves, rather impressively.” She gestured to the ebony statue behind her, finishing her drink. She rose, and nodded towards Queen as she strode to the door, picking up a violin case at the door.. Queen nodded back, and Ember left, giving a slight chill to the atmosphere of the room. The woman didn't speak, but she had presence, danger about her.. Kaylin swallowed, clearing her throat.

“As much as I appreciate the history lesson, Ma'am, I’m still not clear what you are intending to hire us for.” Kaylin commented, swirling the glass. Felix stood behind her, and gave a brief nod.

“She’s right. I love hearing about the political situation here in Texas, but I'm also concerned about its relevance.”

Queen smiled. “Oh, yes, should've gotten straight to the point. You are going to be representing me in New Orleans, as an effort to have control of it diverted to me. If they do not comply, you will kill Jerrico, the leader of New Orleans, and return to me.”

“Oh.” Kaylin said, taking a drink of wine, and then choked on it, along with Felix with his water.

“WHAT!”

“WHAT?”

Queen looked nonplussed, running a finger around the rim of her glass, raising an eyebrow.
“Was that not clear?” At that moment Mustache walked into the room, taking off his gloves, showing the wear and tear of many days of work.

“The spy has been moved outside of the city, and is being deposited in Fort Worth. My friends will be keeping tabs on him. Anything else you require, Mrs. King?” Questioned Mustache, in a thick, texan accent. He had a powerful, strong body of a man to which hard labor was not unknown, but there was a certain gentleness behind the strength of his frame, like his spine was suspended on pillows, or his biceps were prone to cradle children.

“Nothing else will be required, Jonathan. Please, go home, and tell Isaac that if he keeps being patient for his father, I can promise a new toy.” Jonathan smiled, a thick, goofy smile, and went blank faced, muttering a thank you as he left. Queen turned back, swiveling her bar stool and crossing her legs.

“Oh, apologies. Yes, what was confusing about what I said?”

“Queen, I- We are not killing machines. We can’t-”

“Oh, hush, Kaylin. If I knew you were ICPS, you really thought I wouldn’t know about your nickname? “The Quiet Death”, right? The woman of the Burrowfield Mass-” Kaylin’s brain flashed back to this morning, before she grit her teeth and felt her muscles strained with restraint, fighting every urge to put this arrogant son of a b***h in her place, before Felix put a hand on her sholder

“Mrs. King, Kaylin can’t possibly do something like that again… That was a long time ago, and something we’d rather leave in the past. We will have to reject, i'm afraid.” Felix wove, dissolving the tension in the air immediately.

“Alright, alright…. You will not open fire unless you are fired upon. Instead, act as my representative, please. See about making an alliance. Is that acceptable?” Queen said. She looked back and forth at Felix and Kaylin. Felix looked at Kaylin, who, while never breaking her glare, nodded slowly. She stood, downing the rest of her dwindling liquor, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Your ship has already been reFueled. You have 5 hours to report back- I'm not a fan of waiting. Given you don’t plan to stage an assault, I think you carry enough firepower anyways to protect yourselves, am I wrong? No? Then get going.” Queen stood up , and walked to the door, her combat boots clicking in rhythmic fashion. The door was thrown open, and with one last glance, Queen left the duo alone.

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

The walk back to the ship was silent and awkward, as the tension kept Felix and Kaylin walking alone, breaking their strides for one another. Kaylin was still perturbed by Felix’s inability to back her up on shooting the woman that just clocked her with a baseball bat. Felix, however, was miles away, disturbed by how easy it was for someone with a personality like Queen’s gave in to his demands.

(“With someone like her… There's an angle. There’s always an angle. The question is… what?”) Felix bit his tongue. He always did this when he had to think through a quick conversion or a Fuel adjustment- It was a focal point, just as Ishmael described. For just a moment, a great crevice of emotion opened before Felix upon thinking about Ishmael, which he crashed shut by sparking conversation with Kaylin. “What do you think Queen’s goal is?”

“Let's see. Crazy, stupid, bat slinging barbie who has delusions of greatness. Is narcissism a good objective?” Kaylin responded. She shrugged her sore shoulders and looked rather cross. Felix shook his head.

“Crazy, possibly. Delusional, realistically. But she’s not stupid. The fact that she left you thinking you were in power for most of the situation is a sign of higher thinking.”

“Explain.”

“Well, is it easier to convince someone that you mean them no harm, and wish for everyone's success by never taking away their means of protection? She made you think you had the power to protect yourself letting you keep your gun. However, she put herself in an underground vault, to protect herself from any possible backup if you tried a more direct approach. Everything was planned, aside from the spy, I know it.” Felix lamented and chewed his tongue. Kaylin walked, and looked at Felix deep in thought, the way he pursed his lips and then threw them to the side, like he kept an idea on his lip, and tossed them to the side when analysis proved it ineffectual or useless. It was a charming little tic, watching his face tightened in thought, the gears whirling in his head. Kaylin then realised she had been staring for a minute, and coughed.

“Regardless what her plan is, we need to stay focused on how we present ourselves to Jerrico. Maybe we can charm him enough to become Queen’s representative, satisfying her and keeping us alive. You do have that formal suit still from the ICPS, right?” Kaylin questioned and tugged on the lapels of her suit as an indication. Felix groaned.

“Ol’ Ball and chain, eh? Are you sure-”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Come on, how likely is it that-”

“We are representatives. We need to look totally serious, not some random joker. You are wearing that suit, and that’s an order. Sorry Felix.” Kaylin then checked her watch. “We’ll need to take off as soon as we arrive at the ship. How much prepping time?”

“Um… Approximately 15 minutes. I’ll need to pull the new Fuel on board, and do some shaping and power balancing. I assume in flight you'll want me to get dressed up?”

“Yes. Now let's pick up the pace. The last thing I want is another person expecting us to be done at a certain time, and end up running off their schedule.” Kaylin commented with a voice filled with sarcasm. Her lips tingled, and her hand felt light. She really, really wanted a cigarette.

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

“Nice Try. But you’re stuck with it.”

Felix had “accidentally” coated his light grey suit with splashes of oil and grease. That eager, goofy smile of his gave his guilt away. Upon hearing Kaylin, he shrugged his shoulders, and walked out of the Little Nemo. The trip was uneventful, with a regulation landing and takeoff, and Kaylin giving her suit a quick dust off.

New Orleans was a flooded town, where almost all first floors were abandoned. The bombs had lead to a mass flood that had transformed the city into a series of concrete, green algae towers with a dark, mysterious water under the shades of the town. However, as a result of the flooding, the town had grown as a hub of life, for the vast quantities of nontoxic fish that swam through the remains of the buildings lended itself to being a successful dock town. The buildings were bridged to one another, with planks of wood and nails, and modified fishing and recreational boats in between the city streets. On a small dinghy was where Felix and Kaylin found themselves on their way to the Cathedral, the marble throne of the city. As the small boat bobbed about what used to be the city streets, The city breathed and shuttered around them. A woman beating a rug out of a window two floors above the water level. A group of boys perched on a billboard stone, long fishing poles stretching into the water below them. A small speedboat zoomed past, with a group of grim faced policeman clutched onto their rifles. Very young looking kids paddled around, carrying floating waterproofed bags with a variety of trinkets inside, that came up to the side of the dingy, throwing deals out for a variety of nonsensical crafts. Kaylin leaned back, her sunglasses glinting in the sun, trying to ignore the onrush of noise. She felt tempted to buy something, just to try to get the kids back home, but buying one would be the equivalent of dropping a tenderloin into a cage of dogs.

Not that Felix knew that. He picked out a small molten glass flower, and a small necklace with a engraved fishbone trinket on it. He tossed two boxes of screws at the kids. The other children, witnesses to the stranger's generosity, began to become turbulent, their hands clasped onto the edges of the boat, waving more deals from their mouths. Kaylin sent a look to the driver, who nodded, accumulating the speed as to indicate to the children that the pair was all spent. The children left, giving a moan of disapointment. The two passed from the flooded realm to the moss eaten, fallen apart leftovers of the river lined hotels, and where the Mississippi once flowed. The water took a stillness to it unlike the busy edges, with the buildings dotted with stone faced snipers.

“You know, this might be a nice place to take a vacation. Lots of water, sun, quiet… We could just live amongst these people for awhile.” Kaylin ruminated. Felix stood up, moving to her left on the seat, smelling of motor oil and river water. He held the glass flower out to Kaylin, smiling. The rose red petals caught the light, tossing the ember shade onto the floor of the dingey.

“If, of course, we aren't branded as revolutionaries to the local aristocracy. Which we kinda are…” Felix mentioned, with a bit of laughter in his voice. Kaylin took the flower, turning it around with her hands, letting the patterns mix like a kaleidoscope. “You're welcome.”

Kaylin slugged him gently in the arm, laughing. “I was going to say ‘Thank you’, you a*s.” Felix merely shrugged, and leaned back, soaking in the sun.

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

The Cathedral, the heart of New Orleans. A marble monument standing in the mossy skeleton of the city. It’s arches and spires untouched by the wear and stain of water, the stairs leading up to its entrance drifting out of the water. In juxtaposition with the roman pearl columns stood machine guns, fully loaded, manned by yet more soldiers. The high reaching arches of the temple cast long, dark shadows, with the massive power of the monument echoing in the city streets. Felix and Kaylin hopped out of the boat, splashing into the remains of the streets. Kaylin shifted her arm, double checking for her handgun under her suit jacket. She had no intentions of starting a fight, but that doesn't mean Jerrico didn’t. Felix straightened his tie, and nodded at Kaylin. She began a brisk walk to the main doors, the water splashing about her ankles. What little remained of the gardens was pieces of driftwood that used to be shrubs, kept to the ground with the weak roots. A small fountain stood in the middle of the water on the way to the door. The fountain head hung with brass ordination.

The door was a decomposed cedar, Felix observed from Kaylin's knock, which left a small impression on the large door. For several, pulse pounding seconds, the world was still. Then, with the sound of a latch, the door opened. A large black man stood in the doorway, holding a Tec-9. His left eyebrow was burned off, which he raised at their intrusion into this citadel.

“Who are you?” The man questioned, with a voice that would make stone rattle.

“We are the representatives for Queen- The leader of Dallas, if I'm not mistaken. We are here to discuss a possible alliance with Jerrico.” Kaylin, with an air of boredom, said. The front doorsman was meant to intimidate- even if Queen didn’t send a message, showing no fear would possibly gain at least a moment of his time. The man gave a flicker of recognition in his eyes, and motioned his head inside.

The insides of the cathedral could be compared to the throne room of a Mongolian warlord. In the center of the room stood a gigantic table assembled out of old pews and large doors.. On this table laid gigantic collections of fishbones, fruit peels, and half eaten fish, both on the floor and the plates. Pillows lined the alcoves, in corners, where more thugs laid. They smoked marijuana cigarettes and gambled, playing card games often with women close at hand, cheering them on in clothing that would put a stripper to shame. There were 4 guards, hunting rifles in hand above on the banisters, gazing down at the orgy of sin below with a look of jealousy- Must of taken the short straw. The stained glass windows had incandescent patterns of Jesus and the Virgin Mary drifting onto Gin Rummy and Texas Hold'Em Rivers.

At the head of the building, where the altar used to be, stood a throne/bed, most likely taken from the head priest of the building. The bed was covered in silky cloth, of various colors, and ramshackle tied jewels and pieces of gold ripped from candelabras. On top of the bed was two whole candelabras, burning  a pale gold.

Sat, on the bed was the infamous Jerrico, his body hunched over, leaning on his remaining knee. His right leg was replaced with a wooden ordination, carved with simple glyphs and histories of past conquests. His hair was a mirky yellow, like the filter on a cigarette. His skin was pale, shiny, and slippery like a fish. A large double barreled shotgun laid in his lap, which he idly polished, bored.

Kaylin swallowed. The lack of easy cover here was intentional- Even if these baked to the gills thugs couldn’t land a shot, They wouldn't need to- enough bullets flying to one spot would eventually do something. She strode with confidence, stepping over the plates and mess with ease, Felix following closely behind. His eyes tearing up at the smoke. Jericho took notice of them, his eyes dimly moving up, and then glistening with excitement upon realizing who the duo was. Jericho stood up, hefting the shotgun onto his left shoulder, grimacing ear to ear.

“Well, if it isn't the tyrant’s f*****g lackeys.” Jericho bellowed.

Not a good sign thought Kaylin. “Hello, Mister Jerico. I assume your day has been well?”

“Woke up, fucked, ate, fucked again, and received my daily tax. Oh, and fucked again. Probably did more then you have this entire week. “ The warlord claimed with a twisted smile, pelvic thrusting upon every mention of the f*****g. His eyes glowed with delight as he saw discomfort that fell on Felix’s face. Kaylin, however, was unamused.

“Have you received the message from Queen, yet?”

“Ah, My penpal. Not recently, no, but I have some inkling what it's about. Some kind of alliance, I s‘pose. “ Jerico scratched his nose, looking slightly discombobulated by the mere thought of Queen.

“Yes, we are looking for a sorts of alliance, Sir. The details should be coming through soon.”

At that point, The doorman slammed the door shut, holding the exact letter that was missing from the conversation.

“Ah, speak of the Devil! Jacob, bring it over. “ Jerrico then pulled a penknife out of his belt, motioning for the letter. With a quick slice, the letter spilled its contents, which he read with his right hand. “Ah Hum. Ah Hum.”

“Queen has a lot of tactical backup. Could be a useful ally in these turbulent times. “ Kaylins fingers itched. She shook her hands, moving out the feeling. She glanced up to the balcony, spying the gunmen with their rifles. Not much cover from them.

With a swift movement, the man crumpled up the document and tossed it over his shoulder. Kaylins body tensed at the sounds of the crinkling paper. Felix gulped, glancing about the room.

“Gentlem’n,” Jerrico exclaimed, “It seems we have some rapist in our midst.” He gave up a large, yellow smile. “Of course, you mean to f**k me, d’nt ya? You could've just asked, both you and Queen. But guess what. I don't deal with rapists.” Jerrico puckered his lips, and used his fingers to let out a shrill, loud whistle. “Kill ‘em.”

The next several seconds passed quickly. Her Colt slid smoothly out of her holster. Into her right hand as she grabbed Felix’s hand. The chamber reverberated with the sound of the Colt firing. The bullet spiraled into Jerrico’s fake leg. It splintering the wood and causing the tyrant to fall to the ground on his shotgun bearing hand. Jerrico’s hand clutched up. both barrels firing of the Remington and landing into Jacob. His head popped like a watermelon. Upon passing by Jerrico, Kaylin fired 2 bullets into his body. Extinguishing his filthy yellow flame. The crew of the Little Nemo hopped over the bed. Kaylin and Felix pushed it onto its side, using it as a temporary barricade, finding faded cutouts of men’s interest magazines, a pile of shells, and a stack of grey cylindrical cans of a militaristic nature.

“Why did you kill him!?! You didn’t need to kill him!” Felix shouted over the resulting din of gunfire, bracing against the heavy frame of the bed.

“God damn it!!!” Kaylin grimaced, firing bullets in quick succession at the gunners hiding on the second floor. They ducked down, the barrel of their rifles sticking out above the balcony. The harlots screamed and ran out of the building, before a guard slammed the door shut. Jerrico sputtered on the ground, his shirt dampening with blood. “FELIX. HE. TRIED TO. KILL US.”

Felix swallowed his pride against the resulting hail of bullets. He’ll save this for later. “Got a plan??” Felix then picked up one of the cylinders off the ground.

Kaylins pistol went click. With a swift motion she disengaged the magazine, grabbed it in mid fall, placed it into her coat and slid a new clip into the gun. “Nothing yet. You got anything?”

Felix turned over the cylinder. There was various holes cut into the device, with in big bright orange letters on the top was written STUN. He turned it to Kaylin, grinning. “5 plans, it looks like.” Kaylin gave it a quick glance, and gave a heavy sigh.

“Only your kind of luck… “ She ducked down, bracing her back against the bed, reloading again. “Go with two. One in here, one outside. On my signal. 3, 2… 1!” Felix pulled the pin, tossing it over the bed frame, and kept his head down, covering his ears, along with Kaylin.

The flashbang did what it did- It flashed with a big bang, causing all of the bullet hosers in the room to fall to the floor, covering their eyes. With everyone in the room incapacitated, Felix and Kaylin leaped from their cover, charging forward for the door. A man was bracing himself into the door, clutching his useless eyes. Kaylin brought her pistol forward- before Felix shoved it away and shook his head at Kaylin. She rolled her eyes as Felix guided the man to the floor, away from the door, and then waited for Kaylin to toss open the door, hand on the pin.

Outside of the cathedral, 3 patrol boats floated in the water, Uzi’s pointed at the door. To the patrollers, a mix of confusion hit them once the gunshots ended as a large bang and flash shot through the windows of the church. Imagine their surprise when the door flew open, athey sent a hail of bullets down it in panic- and then having the world go white.  One tall gunner soon found a crushing haymaker smacked across his face, shattering his lovely roman nose into pieces of what it once was.

Kaylin fell into the driver seat, twisting the ignition on, letting the engine roar as Felix, with a bergrugended sorry pushed another man off the boat. From the left, a Molotov cocktail flew in, and found its shattered resting place on Felix’s back.

Flame burst out on the deck and onto Felix’s slick back, the coat still sticky with oil. Felix began clawing at his buttons on his jacket. The flames licked against the coat, filling the air with the stinky smell of burned cloth and melted plastic. The buttons unlatched, and Felix tossed the suit jacket off into the water, falling to the deck, gasping. His skin was singed red. He stumbling rose to his legs, walking carefully along to the seat next to a very worried Kaylin, whose eyes darted on and off from the sunken streets and to Felix. For a bit, they sat there silent, as Felix felt his heart return to normal after the brush with death. The various snipers who doted the roofs seem to have disappeared.

“You know, um… If you really didn’t like the coat, you could of just tossed it when I wasn’t looking.” Kaylin commented curtly, looking into her lap. Felix looked at her with those big eyes of his, which were framed with moistness…. And then began giggling loudly, unable to control himself. Felix couldn’t stop laughing. He doubled over, holding his stomach in pain, face still painted in a smile. Felix reached over and punched her shoulder lightly. “Hey! What was that for?”

“For making me wear the damn thing in the first place. What can we tell Queen?” Felix wondered, holding a curled finger to his lower lip, wiping away tears.
“Aside from the truth? I’d figure she’s just as fine with this outcome. Jerrico is out of the picture, and she can sweep in, gaining control. It’s not rocket science to see she could care less about those who oppose her.” Felix sunk down into his chair. He supposed Kaylin was right, but something just felt so wrong about the whole ordeal. For one, if Jerrico planned to say no, as his demeanor said during the entire discussion, then why not just shoot them and get it over with, rather than go through all these theatrics? “Hey, don’t overthink it too much. Some people are just crazy.”

“Some people, huh…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door clicked shut as Felix and Kaylin left the main office of Queen’s empire. It was barren, unadorned in the remains of the Dallas police HQ. She was peering over maps of New Orleans. As she sat, numerous squad were already blasting towards the city on the water in caravan. Queen leaned back, scratching the shaved left side of her head. She let the off white paint of the room fill her mind, giving her an emotional blankness that she could lose herself in for just a moment. a gentle knock rang out against the door frame.

“Come in, Ember.” Queen called out patiently. Ember sauntered in with dull confidence kept in her body. Her violin case was slung across her back Her legs shimmied over to the broken office chair across from her, and she sat down, her eyes furrowed in a look of confusion

“Ma'am, you seem to be playing a very risky game with that former ICPS officer here.” Ember responded, in her smooth, authoritative voice of her’s. Queen raised an eyebrow, giving her a glance up as she marked another transport line. “She’s called “The Quiet Death” for a reason- You don't get to be one of the Aces without having the chops to make it. Are you sure doing what you did was the correct course of action?”

Queen stood up, and walked to the wall, feeling the smooth lines of paint. She then turned back, and stated simply:

“Loyalty is buyable. Faith is luck. Manipulation, however, is something you can always count on and predict, if you do it right.”

“I don’t follow.”

Queen sat back down, and took out a piece of paper. She took her dry erase marker, and quickly wrote out a schematic.  

“See, if you rely on things like loyalty or faith, you can get fucked, as it's a required two way street- once they discover you don’t trust them or have faith in them, the game ends. However, with manipulation, you will know that the person will be mad if they find out the gambit, and will do what they think will lead to you at a disadvantage. Look at Jerrico: He obviously thought shooting the messenger, who I set up as a smart tactician and negotiator, would cripple me; Or, it was just pure spite, which, if it killed Kaylin, would be just as fine- It would prove she didn’t have the skills. But, Kaylin stuck it out, taking out the major leader of the faction without having to get my hands bloody. Even if she was to just flee, I’d have information on the layout of the city from her eyewitness account, and of put Jerrico on the offense- Which then I could sweep the city out from under him.” She swept the paper towards Ember, and twirled the pen in between her fingers. Ember examined the paper sagely, and then folded it up, sticking it into her case. She stood up, smoothing out her dress, and walked towards the door.

“One last question. What does that say about us?” She asked, nonchalantly. She leaned back, looking at Queen with hooded eyes curiously. Queen smiled blankly.

“I’ll let you figure it out.”

With that, Ember stuck a cigarette between her lips, and left the room.

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

“Holy s**t.”

Kaylin lifted up one of the large bullets- a 50 caliber. Out in the wastes, one of these was worth its weight in gold, even if someone didn't have a rifle for it- cannibalization of parts was very common out there. And, it was in military grade condition. She set the bullet back down, glancing at Felix, who was already going at full speed. His eyes looked down upon the reward, frowning.

“We shouldn’t of accepted this job. Now, she thinks she owns us.” Felix muttered, biting his lip. Kaylin stood up, pushing the crate to the side amongst the others, and tapped her boot against the deck.

“Well, she doesn’t. We still chose what jobs we take. She has no leverage, so we’ll be fine.” Kaylin responded, scratching her nose. Felix said nothing back, leaning against the wall. The clinking of pipes echoed throughout the ship as they stood there, silent. Felix then slipped onto the ladder, saying nothing as Kaylin grabbed a small beer can and a folding chair, walking off the ship into the burning Texan sun

Author's Note

Tear me A new one, please