Easy Money

[Travis North]

((I'm bored.))

A short glance to either side, two MPs stood in a corner on the left. This may not go over so well... The din of a busy lounge filled everyones ears, the sound of a glass breaking over a man's head could barely be heard. It was only when he cussed aloud that everyone turned.

"You rotten puke." That was the enraged voice of an army sergeant. "I'll kill you!"

A step to the right and the first punch was avoided. In it's return was a swift kick to the abdomen. "**** *** army grunt. Why don't you drink somewhere with a trough like you should."

A hook came from the left and connected with a shoulder which deflected it. The shoulder continuing into the jaw of the poor combatant. He fell back into the MPs who were withdrawing their stun batons. All three men yelped as the stun batons hit, both men's batons hit the staggering soldier and were forced back on themselves by the falling body.

A whistle blew. More MPs The two on duty weren't total slackers after all. A call had been made. The combative soldier groaned as he regained his footing, he could take a few hits unlike the MPs which were now on the ground. The lounge began to clear out. Only those who had placed bets and wanted to watch remained.

"I'm not gonna be beaten by a pilot. I'll have your head." The soldier went for a grapple.

"Wrong sir. Wrong." The punch came quick and landed straight on the jaw. "You get nothing." The man fell. "You lose. Good day sir."

The MPs were swarming in. Time to go. A hop over the bar top and into the back room. The bartender was in the back collecting money from some patrons, a grand smile on his face as he did so.

"How much?"

"Four hundred fifty." Was the cheerful reply, his hands were quite busy fumbling with credit sticks.

"My cut please."

"One hundred as agreed upon." The middle aged barkeep threw over a credit stick. "Next week?"

"I'll think about it." The back door whined sliding shut, it wouldn't overcome the sirens outside however.

[Khendon Sevon]

He breathed out a plume of hot air onto his almost blue hands. The heat drew a dull aching sensation from the numb appendages. The black eyed man rubbed vigorously to force blood back through the constricted vessels. He dramatically drew his trench coat closer and turned up the collar.

Cold weather made him uncomfortable. He didn’t like being uncomfortable. It displeased his stomach. When his stomach was upset, so was he. When he was upset, others became upset for a short time—then they became dead.

It just happened that way.

It also just so happened that a man stepped out the back door of Bart’s Bar. It was a usual occurrence.

Then there was the action that tended to go with a man heading out the back.

Grizm lifted the heavy repeating blaser. His shadow became elephant-like and stretched over the newly arrived man.

The only light was behind the tall, dark, and wide of shoulder thug and cast a gritty yellow smear of illumination on the alleyway. The stretched veil of darkness placed an oil smear over the ugly details of the urban decay that clung to the streets like a death shroud. The breeze wafted sewer smells and loose papers in a vile, menacing way.

“Easy, Money,” he winked down the sight and showed broken, battered teeth between his fat lips, “just relax.”

[Travis North]

Blaster. Cheating bastard. The credit stick tumbled over the rough ground. "Take it."

A glance to the corner of the building where the alley met the road. The sight of MPs didn't come. Although the sound of booted footfalls were many, and close by.

"I'd snatch it quick before the guys come round. Nearly got caught two weeks ago." A small chuckle as hands were raised behind head. "I can guide you through a quick route to get away from here while avoiding their patrols, so long as you let me live."

[Khendon Sevon]

“No, Money,” he said with a crooked grin, “I don’t think you understand.”

The thug flicked a switch and a whining hum momentarily revved from the large-bore weapon. A hand snaked its way down to a satchel that was slung over his shoulder. He reached beyond the flag and withdrew a pair of cuffs. They were thrown to the ground and slid in front of the newly arrived man.

“Put them on, you’re coming with me.”

[Travis North]

"This has got to be my lucky day." Snapping the binders closed and then locking them to together the brawler took a step forward. "Where to?"

Worthless MPs. The sirens ended and not a single officer was stepping into sight weapon at hand.