Runnin' on Empty

[Dante Sotari]

Telos​

Shoulders hunched, hands shoved deep into pockets, Dante trudged across the bridge that spanned the empty air between city districts. This time of night, the pathways were largely devoid of the snarling but legitimate traffic of business hours. While it wasn't the dark and rugged small hours of the morning, where glit dealers and their marks prowled, it was well past the hour where reasonable people were already wherever they were going for the evening, and too early for them to be starting to stumble home.

She'd been planet hoping for months now, making her way across the galaxy from Alexandria. From passenger ship to freighter, never taking the same ship for more than a single leg of the journey. She'd abandoned her identity a half dozen times on a half dozen worlds, and she was pretty sure the current hair colour was close enough to her original shade again that she should probably change it again soon.

Shivering against an icy wind, she pulled her coat harder around her. She'd traded this one, shabbier, less ostentatious but sturdy, for the one she'd brought with her on Arkania, somewhere around the halfway point. It was probably time to trade it out again, she mused. Carefully, she fingered the long barreled blaster pistol she kept snugged underneath it, the weight familiar and comforting.

Running low on funds, and most of the way across the galaxy from where everything had gone so wrong, she wasn't entirely certain what her next move was. Settle down? She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept in the same place twice.

But she could remember exactly the last time she'd woken up next to the same person two mornings in a row.

"Hey!"

Not paying much attention, someone walking in the opposite direction clipped her shoulder. She frowned, eyeing him up and down before shrugging deeper into her coat.

"Watch where you're going," she muttered, ducking her head and pushing forward past him.

She caught sight of the flashing lights of a bar in the distance across the bridge. She didn't need to figure out her move for tomorrow. That was good enough for now. Something warm to eat and something cold to drink.

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Echoes"]

It still felt strange.

To be captive inside your own body.

They often said that the worst fate there was is to become paralysed, but retain your consciousness through it all. Be able to see, taste, listen and maybe even speak, but otherwise not be able to do a single thing.

Not be able to move a single muscle.

Strange then that I haven't felt better in my entire life and still somehow feel like I am a prisoner. The bar was loud, rowdy, it attacked the senses and didn't give them much room to breathe. The corner of the counter gave the best view while minimising attack vectors. How do I know that? I learned it, the memory is there, but it doesn't feel like *my* memory.

What the difference is was anyone's question.

Fingers curled into a fist before I loosened the grip again. One of the patrons looked funny at me, but I took another sip from the beer and let the glass settle in front of me. No point in taking up attention. "I am in position." Rookie voice, hopeful, pride in it and it was amusing. Had I ever been this way?

The door clinged open and the bell chiming hit against the ears.

A quick look saw a woman walk in, face covered and the scarf only left her after a few moments. She sauntered, pace hastening once the alcohol pouring came into view for her.

Interesting... almost as interesting as her stride.

How do I know she was (or is) military?

 

[Dante Sotari]

She skipped the first two bars, turning into the second in a bluster of wind and stray golden hair.

The bar was already about as full as it was going to get that evening. Until Dante walked in. Most of the patrons were already engrossed in whatever their night brought them. Hazel eyes flickered over the beings gathered, breathing in the warm, familiar scent of the place.

Planets changed. All of them different. Different smells, different feels. Even the air tasted different. But a bar? The slightly sour smell of old ale, even in the best of them. Smoke. There was a certain comforting familiarity in knowing that, wherever she went, bars across the cosmos all smelled the same at their core.

She tugged down her scarf from over her nose, snugging it up under her chin as she threaded her way through the crowd to the bar. She glanced over at the grey eyed man, eyes catching for a heartbeat before she followed the natural curve of her movement and nodded to the bartender.

"Whatever local ale you've got on tap," she said, tapping her middle finger twice on the bartop.

Without thinking about it, her eyes cast over the mirror behind the bar, scanning the reflection for anyone who seemed to be taking undue notice. She'd changed plans at the last minute, boarding a ship for Telos rather than her original plan. So while there was no actual way anyone could have been waiting here for her. But she checked anyway.

Not that she particularly relaxed once she thought it was clear.

Grey-green eyes cast back over to her right as the bartender slid a drink to her. She nodded, depositing a credit chit on the counter before turning to lean against the bar. Pulling a slim silver case out of her pocket, she opened it just enough to draw a cigarra from. Flicking open a package of matches, she made a face, scanning the bartop for a book. Most places had them, but apparently either this place didn't condone the filthy habit or else had run out.

Sideways glance at the man next to her, down to the half finished mug of beer, then back up. No yellow finger tips, but then again, neither did she, yet.

"Hey, got a light?"

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Echoes"]

His attention was split in so many ways it was difficult to seperate where he ended and the rest of the room began.

The deadly woman with a penchant for ale.

The nervous but excited chattering of his 'partner'.

The cursing of one of the drunkards as fleshy palm hit the jukebox a few times to get it to work.

All of it received equal attention, none of them lost focus because of it and Morgan knew for a fact that this hadn't been possible for him before the incident. Barely able to keep six numbers in his head, much less this expansion of awareness.

"Yeah, why not." The words slipped from his lips before her words even registered fully. Finger tips went digging and found his lighter at the bottom of a pocket. White brushed metal, not gold, but the handcrafted ornament etched into it spoke of expense.

Fingers flicked and the lighter ignited with a soft flame waiting.

Once the tip burned pleasantly the lighter disappeared again. "I am Morgan, you?" The question posed seemed genuinely curious as his head tilted as if to listen.

The fact that the head tilt was caused by an insistent string of swear words straight into his ear did not necessarily minimise his interest. Vance wondered how difficult it could really be to infiltrate a bar like this one.

By the sounds of it... pretty hard.

 

[Dante Sotari]

She leaned in slightly, cigarra on her lips and inhaling softly as he lit the end. Yellow, to orange to cherry, cheery red. She let it settle, taking a long drink of ale before bringing it back to her mouth and drawing in a long low breath.

There was clear appraisal in her eyes as she swept them up and down before back at the mirror absently. The door was still quiet, and nothing in the rest of the bar had changed. She didn't really expect it to, but she couldn't help it either.

"Morgan? Dani," she supplied. Tucking the cigarra into the corner of her mouth and not letting go of her glass, she offered him a hand to shake.

Most people wouldn't recognize the particular callous on her thumb and index finger, so she didn't even worry about it.

"Anything good?" She asked, tilting her head at his glass.

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Echoes"]

Skin touched skin and his was lit on fire.

It felt like his skin was being brushed by steel wool. Every fold, every line, every callous, it was noticed, noted, catalogued and put away for later inspection. If there had been any doubt that he was currently talking to a soldier that went away with the callous on her fingers. The depth and angle of the texture suggested long range.

"Depends on what you consider good." Morgan replied before the tilt of the head smoothed out as his partner on the other side of the line calmed down. "I will let you taste mine, if you let me taste yours." It was clearly about the ale.

Nothing more.

The flicker of his eye moving up and down for a heartbeat was probably imagined. In the meantime the back of his head was still pushing around her name.

Wasn't hers, was it? Not with the contempt at the corner of her mouth, not the soft exhale once the lie was offered and not called out. But that wasn't any of his business. Not when Morgan had a job to complete in this very bar.

Criminals loved their bars and it was no different here.

 

[Dante Sotari]

She arched an eyebrow at him. With a slight tilt of the head, the lowering of his voice, a look in those grey eyes, it could have been a flirt. But she honestly wasn't sure if he even realized it could have been if he'd wanted it to be.

"Who could say no to such a ringing endorsement?"

His own hand had been smooth, strong but under utilized. Probably worked in an office or something. Bee would have known, but then, he wasn't here. Could have pegged him down to which corp by his hair cut and the invisible lint on his cuff. Something tightened slightly at the corners of her eyes.

"What the hell," she said with a good natured shrug, choosing the route, as ever, that pushed those thoughts out of her mind in favor of whatever the now was.

She pushed her glass across the bar toward him, accepting his in return. It wasn't a shy sip, but neither was it immoderate or greedy and her eyes cast up slightly, as if trying to place it. Then she shrugged, clearly unable to.

"Local brewers need to up their game, but it's alright," she agreed.

"Velusia now, they make a dark salted beer, can't remember what it's called. Cut it with a knife. But this'll do the job."

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Echoes"]

"That a fact?" Morgan retorted before taking a mouthful of hers.

The taste bit against his tongue and the man hummed in apparent appreciation. "Bit light around the edges, but the bite is pleasant. I prefer the Metellosian Dark- not too expensive and rich texture." He pushed her glass over again before accepting his own with an inclination. It was strange, because Morgan had never been to Metellos, had he? A blink and the memories flooded back in, sitting in a low-scale gambling house with an unfamiliar women hanging on his arm.

The beer tasted excellent, as did her touch on his neck.

A small frown brushed past his expression, before he smiled - trying to wipe away the anxiety. They had said that amnesia was a common occurrence after what had happened to him. They would slowly filter their way back again, they had said.

"Haven't seen you around before," Lips curled up as a hint rather than an expression. Suggesting that if he had seen her before... he would have remembered. "Business or pleasure, Dani?" The name didn't even fit in his mouth right. No, it was clearly not her name, but that was something for a different time. Again his head tilted, again it seemed as if he was listening, again it was the insistent screeching of a child on the other side. But why did Morgan feel so annoyed about it?

Wasn't this his first time as well?

Another blink of the eye.

Memories flooding in of prior missions, dozens and more and more, before retreating back into the shadows.

No, this wasn't his first rodeo at all.

 

[Dante Sotari]

She nodded with a certain appreciation. He knew his beer.

"Well, the knife part? Sliiiiight exaggeration. But the rest? Gospel, or may lightening strike-"

The phrase was fine on it's own, but the way she cut it off, it was obvious that she'd been about to say more. A habitual response, cut short. Her hand, index and middle fingers pointed, had been on their way to her chest, but that also cut off short, returning to her glass. A long drink, nearly a third of the glass before returning it to the counter and inhaling deeply on the cigarra. Exhaling to the side, she caught the tail end of that flicker of a frown before it vanished again.

Hmm.

"Just passing through," she answered cagily, looking around casually. Sweep the mirror, sweep the bar.

The way he kept tilting his head. Someone else might have just thought he was attentive. But she knew what it was like to be sitting in one place and have a partner whispering in your ear from somewhere else. No one was that attentive without the glint of flirt (entirely absent here, even despite his implication). The barest way his irises flicked to the right occasionally, but not seeing anything before returning....

Someone was talking to him.

Ever so slightly, she pulled back, her torso shifting away by just a few degrees.

After his hand shake, she didn't think he was a professional, not in her line anyway. So what the hell was he?

"So this is a usual watering hole for you? Seems a little.... divey for a regular haunt. No offence," ​she added with a glance over to the bartender. He shrugged helplessly.

"I just work here lady."

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Echoes"]

Ain't the usual place someone would pass on through.

But the looks were deceiving - slight prep, lip curled up, pleasant to look at, but the hands... the hands had told him the real tale and then there was the way there was calculation in her eye. Every so often Dani would cast a look at the mirror, keeping an eye on the door and the rest of the room.

What was she?

The callous was worn, brushed almost smooth from lack of friction, she hadn't used her rifle in quite some time now.

"Should ask for their Saturday Special, you'd see why I keep coming back." Wasn't strictly speaking a lie. He used to go here often, feel a little bit like a bad boy amidst the grime and dust. It had been a serious desire, but now he felt silly about it. The blaring in his ear continued, until his eyes brushed past her towards the door. Two people came in: one was the target and it was followed soon after by the boy. From here Morgan could see the transpiration, slick as a shine rubbing against the lad's neck and cheeks.

This was a complication.

He should have removed him before entering the bar.

The apologetic glance did nothing to please him. "Excuse me, nice chat but I have business to attend. Her next's on me." The chit dropped next to his glass would be enough to cover his tab and pay for her following drink plenty.

 

[Dante Sotari]

"Rats. As delighful as whatever their special is sounds, won't be here that long."

Five days in the same place? She wouldn't even be here this time tomorrow. Originally she'd planned on taking a room at the motel across the street, but after meeting this Morgan and the weird way he was acting- how it didn't jive with his appearance- well, she was already planning on making her way to another street, maybe the next district over, before bedding down.

Which was disappointing because she'd been looking forward to stretching out after a drink or two.

But when his eyes brushed past her to the door, hers canted up to the mirror.

Two men. One nervous. A smile at her new 'friend', familiar, knowing, apologizing-

Chit.

"Yeah. Nice meetin' you," she muttered, tone saying that it might not have been, right hand sliding from her drink to under her coat as he walked away.

Chit chit.

"Back door?" she asked the bartender in a low undertone. He nodded over his shoulder- it was apparently a not uncommon request.

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Echoes"]

Something was wrong.

Not with the woman, he had already written her off for the moment. The situation itself was shifting like the overwhelming but slow pace of a tectonic plate.

Morgan could see it expand before his eyes even if he could not act.

Their target shifted his face slightly, looking away from the sudden light and sheltering his eyes and that gave him full view of the rookie getting too eager by half. His body was ready, pumped up as the situation locked itself in his mind, but the mind was unwilling. It was still shackled to its old narrative: I am not fast enough for this.

And that ensured that he wasn't.

The blaster rang out, plasma burning straight through skin, meat, throat and dropping the rookie. Immediately the target (ruffled atrisian) swung his blaster towards Morgan.

Eyes widened.

Not for himself - the trajectory was slightly off and wouldn't hit him, his eyes could see that as light as day.

But all of this had happened within the span of a second and the current path would hit Dani. He moved this time, step back, fingers curled around her shoulder and hand pulling down firm and without pause. The blaster fire rang, cutting a path through Dani's former position and hitting the bottles behind the bar.

"Sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen." Morgan murmured quickly, but as he looked up the Atrisian had already disappeared. The agent cursed and rose up, the entire bar was in chaos, people running and trying to get away, the barkeep hiding behind the bar. "Feth." He moved through the thinning crowd and reached the rookie.

Crouching next to him.

Dead as day.

It should have filled him with nausea, first time he had seen a corpse, right? He blinked and a memory hit him. A woman in his arms, he was cradling her, blood everywhere, he was crying.

It hurt.

 

[Dante Sotari]

She'd watched it all go bad in the blink of an eye, reflected in that mirror.

It wasn't exactly what she was expecting at first- the three not a team- but it hardly mattered. Hazel eyes narrowed slightly and she was already turning, drawing the long barreled blaster pistol as the ruffled atrisian brought his own to bear on her back.

What she wasn't expecting was Morgan to step in and push her down.

Her shot went off at an angle, missing her target- the man targeting her she thought, and for good reason.

One moment, everything was clear.... and then the next?

She didn't understand just what was going on.

Dante didn't put her pistol away, just pointed it up as she scanned the bar for the man who had killed the kid and tried to fire at her. Her mind raced, trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle- He'd been sent by the man who had murdered her husband? Then these two were.... what? Sent by who? A third party, maybe he'd pissed off other people?

Of course, there was a simpler solution, she realized when her gaze came back to Morgan, kneeling over the kid.

That this had nothing to do with her. Just coincidence that she'd picked this bar, instead of the first two, or moving onto the next down the street. Keeping her pistol out, she scanned again, moving to a spot instinctively where she could watch his back as he paused. Unless the whole thing was more convoluted than Dante could see as being worth it, he'd tried to save her life, even if it hadn't needed saving. That counted for something.

She looked down, lips thinning and mouth tightening. She'd never seen his body. Hadn't gotten that closure. But she understood what it was like.

"At least it was quick," she said quietly. A beat and then- "I'm sorry."

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Echoes"]

Hand brushed eyelids down and Morgan sighed.

Blink.

Memories of him doing this a dozen times, more times, too many times. It allowed him to wipe away the sadness on his face and replace it with something close to impassiveness. If this had happened so many times before, then there was no point in being sad about it now. Each life just a tool, snuffed away when their use was over.

That was the instinctual response.

But it didn't feel right and Morgan denied it. Lives mattered, every single one of them, that was why they had been hunting the Atrisian. "No time." No time for grieving, for feeling sorry, they had a job to do and his eyes widened as he realized that this wasn't over by a long shot. Morgan pushed himself up, studying the bubbling bartender, fearful and in fetal position.

Then Dani.

"Not sure your name is Dani, but that hardly matters now. That Atrisian is planning a bombing." it was personal. "You got experience, help me?"

He needed a second- at the back of his head he knew that chances of success had gone down by 80% once the rookie got killed.

 

[Dante Sotari]

When he looked up, he'd realize she already was. Her stance, the position she'd taken up, the way she was scanning the bar and the position of the pistol, ready, always ready, held up against her shoulder and pointed at the ceiling. She was still, calm, but alert. And even if she hadn't actually agreed to anything, she'd taken his six without hesitation.

She spared a glance down at him, grey-grey eyes skipping to his partner before back to the room around them. As long as he was down there, training said she couldn't afford to talk to him directly, someone needed to keep an eye out.

Reaching back, she absently tucked the right side of her coat into the back of her belt, freeing up her dominant arm from getting potentially tangled in the long duster. A habitual motion.

"Dani's close enough," she muttered.

Glancing down quick before up again, she mulled it over for a heartbeat before responding.

"You got other back up?"

If he did? She was so out of here.

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Echoes"]

Eyes scanned up and down.

Good stance, alert, eyes scrolling the room and awaiting further enemy contact. Dani was stable and efficient, if his first request had been born out of shadowy calculation and a lack of options, then this sizing up made Morgan realize that she was exactly what she needed. His estimates went up substantially in his head.

She would be a better partner than the rookie.

John.

His name is- was John.

"No, we received this intel last-minute." Morgan made a few more calculations (strangely how he could vividly remember being bad at numbers, before his accident... hadn't he been?), the atrisian would be by the end of the block by now. There was no time to waste anymore, if she wasn't interested than that was that.

"I need to go, a few more minutes and there is no chance I will be able to catch up again."

And a lot of people would die.

Greys searched hazel, was she in or out? It was now or never.

 

[Dante Sotari]

Oh, she did not want to know who 'we' was. One hundred percent did not give a mynock's balls who 'we' was.

Honestly, she was a little sorry she'd asked if he had back up. Not knowing, she could have pretended she could have walked away without regret. Why had she asked? Walking away wasn't in the cards now. Not because she particularly cared about the bombing.

"You've got my back, but who's got yours?"

Bee had leaned in, settling a kiss on her lips with a smile even while she was frowning up at him.

"It's my job to worry about that. You've got enough to handle on your end."

She'd wrinkled her nose, making a face at him. They'd only had that conversation once, not long after they'd started sleeping together. She had trusted him, that he had it. That he didn't need someone on his six. His position was always one of greater security, and they both knew it. She was the one with her rear end hanging out in the wind if a hit went bad.

"Well, just remember if you die out there, I'm gonna be really pissed. I'll mourn for like, a whole day," she'd smirked, teasing him.

"Wouldn't want that," he'd murmured into her hair. "I'd hate to see you rend your hair and rub ashes all over."

Rolling her eyes, she'd turned fully into his arms.

"Promise you'll be careful," she'd said suddenly, her tone soft. He'd blinked in surprise, and nodded slowly. Raising two fingers, index and middle, to his heart, he smiled crookedly at her.

"Promise. Gospel truth Dan, or may lightening strike me down."

Morgan'd had her back. Who had his?

Stepping back, she jerked her head toward the door.

"What are we waiting for?"

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Echoes"]

He was already walking and didn't respond to the question.

Not because Morgan was ignoring her, but because every minute was valuable here and he could practically feel them ticking away. The door was pushed open and they stepped on through. Cold wind biting against his skin. The sudden stimuli made him shiver slightly, but he managed to center himself.

Eyes scanned the crowd.

There were pockets of panic, groups where the Atrisian had busted through in an attempt to get away from them. "There, let's go." Morgan moved through the crowds and it was now that Dani would be able to see his... experience or training anyway. He didn't so much go through the crowd as much as danced around it. Slipping in and out of empty pockets, lingering just long enough for Dani to follow suit, before moving forward. They passed a civilian, cradling his head, blood on his hand and a small group of people around him.

"Only got the blaster?"

Could be worse... could be far worse, but it could have been better too. They were getting close and they'd have to be ready for anything.

 

[Dante Sotari]

She wasn't sure how she'd so badly misjudged him. Corporate officeman? Please. He was Ops, plain and simple. She'd known enough of them, laughed with them, drunk with them- bled with them. His type usually paved the way for her type, getting the intel or clearing the path to the target.

Funny, how that worked out, even here.

Dante shouldered her way through a pair of sentients that had closed ranks behind Morgan. She'd been trained for different things than he had, but she could appreciate the way he moved like water between stones.

"Get me a clear shot and I only need the one," she muttered when she came up against his back when he paused.

This was more chaotic than she preferred. The crowd complicated things. There was nothing more unpredictable than a crowd of civilians. But sometimes, the choice was made for her.

[member="Elliot Locke"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Echoes"]

Curt nod was all she got.

It would be a challenge here with the crowd moving like an organic beast around them. Morgan could find his way through them, but that wasn't the same thing as giving her a clear shot. Not when the target in question was a terrorist maniac who didn't give a crap about civilian casualties, they didn't have that kind of luxury.

"There." Morgan didn't point, instead he slowed down to allow Dani to catch up with him, shoulder brushed against hers as his eyes were focused on the now-trundling Atrisian.

Smart one.

Get a clean break from the scene and then minimize the risk of being caught by acting inconspicuous. Running right now would only have caused him to stand-out between the crowd. The nightlife was a problem now- had this been just a city on a less urbanized planet they would have the streets to themselves.

But this was Telos, District Keezhsa, the people never slept here.

"Gonna get closer and get you your shot, see you on the other side."