Two in a Million

[Nen Lev'i]

I have the absolute most awesome job in the universe.

Well, okay. Not the most awesome. I'm not a porn star. I'm not a superhero. I'm not one of those banker guys who can manage to devastate entire planetary economies, and still manage to earn a bonus come Life Day that's fatter than a Hutt's ass. Nor am I a super-secret super-spy, though I'm not far off.

In truth, I'm more of a super-awesome super-thief. Or at least, half of a super-awesome super-thief team. I'm the brains, and she's the, well -

My aim dropped, the electroscopic sight on my sniper rifle scanning down her back to focus on what looked like a pair of gokobs going at it like forntarchs in the seat of her pants. Which was to say, I was holding a few hundred thousand credits-worth of advanced weaponry and sensor equipment, and I was using it to stare at Andana's ass from three blocks away.

A smile tugged at my lips. Like I said, I have the absolute most awesome job in the universe.

"Looking good from up here, Dan," I called into my comms, resisting the urge to reach up and press the headset into my ear a little, like they always seemed to do in the holovids. Andana would probably have been proud, had she been here, and not reached the stage where all she felt for me was irritation, contempt, and the kind of inexplicable fondness you felt towards the cute little runt of a cowlpup litter.

I sighed at that. Given the choice, I would have preferred that she felt a little different about me. But I guess you can't always get what you want.

Ah, well. At least I still have an awesome job.

[Andana Callax]

Some days she wondered at her own sanity.

No, that wasn't right. She wondered about it frequently, and hoped it was doing well, wherever it had fled to. There was a time when she was practical, level-headed, and always did the right thing. Never argued with her elders, never did things she was told not to...all in all, she used to be perfect.

Dana still thought she was. Perfectly happy to do what she wanted, when she wanted, and with who she wanted. Odd then, that she'd hooked up with Nen of all people. She was at a loss to explain the appeal of working with him, though he at least knew what he was doing and had the experience she lacked. He came up with the plans, she executed them. It worked well.

Only lately, things had begun to change. Well, not change in a bad way...just...a weird one. Nen was...a friend? A partner? It just wasn't as simple as it used to be to explain. It was something more, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that yet.

"Looking good from up here, Dan,"

His voice crackled over the comms and actually brought a smile to her face. Dana rubbed at her temple with her fingertips and tried to remember to breathe deeply as she flatly ignored the weird sensation.

"You sure you're not using that scope to look at my ass again?" she quipped back, tilting her head to look back up towards his position, a faint smile in place of her trademark scowl. "Good down here, too. Looks like the info was spot on. Four guards, rotating every twenty, and they should start the lock-down procedures soon. We'll be good to go in less than ten, hun."

That 'hun' had slipped out far easier than it should have.

[Nen Lev'i]

Damn it. Busted.

I followed her line of sight, picking out the guards she mentioned. Our target was a lock-up: one of those rental storage places, down by the docks. Some ingenius little bastard had bought the place out, and was now using it as a front to cater for the local gangs: somewhere to stash the merchandise that they smuggled in, before they moved it off somewhere else. The thugs were on his payroll: not exactly the best quality mercs that money could by; burly enough to keep order at any rate, and stop someone from just busting in and taking anything.

Well, stop anyone except from me, that is.

The bigger crime cartels had their own landing platforms; their own warehouses; this place was just for the small fry. They hadn't told us who we were going after, but to be honest, I didn't really care about that dren. A job was a job; money was money; and we'd been offered a sweet cred cheque for this little number.

Security would be tight once we got past the doors; nothing physical, but pleanty of alarms, sensors, and annoying-as-hell cyberlocks to bust past. Luckily, I'd had the forethought to slice into their mainframe a day or two before; slipped myself a backdoor in.

This was gonna be a total ryshcate walk.

My rifle panned back to her, again focussing on where she'd caught me looking before. Not that I cared. Common knowledge that I'm an ass man; and man, did she have a fine example. "How long until the guards cycle again?" I asked, trying to fight the childish grin off my face, and out of my voice.

[Andana Callax]

Right then.

Five minutes and counting.

Dana stretched a bit where she'd been perched, atop a much lower building that had been empty for months. It afforded her the easiest route down to the entrance and the best vantage point for creating the spectacle to distract the guards with. Fingers patted the pocket that contained a pair of grenades, of the flash and noise variety, and not of the obliterate everything kind.

The perfect kind for a distraction.

Especially one where the hit was only being carried out by two people, and those people weren't after any of the contraband that was normally moved in and out of this place. No, their quarry was a titanium briefcase with information in it. What it was, they could only guess. But given the hefty cred chip waiting for them upon delivery, they didn't much care.

She was looking forward to the vacation she'd planned for afterwards.

"T-minus one minute, Nen...fifty-nine...fifty eight..." Dana said softly through the comm, rising to her feet and stretching out before perching on the edge of the roof. A one story drop she'd already measured and tried. Ryshcate.

Fingers smoothed over the weapons she wore - shatter blasters in thigh holsters, a rifle anchored down her back, and a pair of long echani knives tucked into her boots. Like a freakin' girl scout - an armed-to-the-teeth ninja girl-scout.

"...three...two...one...go!"


Dana tossed the grenades at the momentarily unmanned gate and jumped.

[Nen Lev'i]

There are my babies, I thought with a grin, watching as the specially-prepared explosive devices I'd rigged up for the occasion exploded in an orb of shimmering blue. It was an electromagnetic pulse device; designed to spark out any electrical device within a five-meter radius. Not enough to knock down security at the bunker; that wasn't the point. Rather, it was to knock up security; or rather, knock on.

As I watched Dana's incredibly awesome, badass, and sexy gymnastic dive out of the range of the EMPs and into the entrance of the store, the main gate came crashing down, an extra-heavy reinforced set of blast doors sliding into place. Now, most people think "Oh, shit," when they see blast doors, but for me it was a "Hell yeah!". Y'see, this was the plan, believe it or not. There were four guards outside, and four guards inside, every shift: the latter taking downtime to stop them getting bored and complacent every twenty minutes. If any one of them caught us, they could trigger a silent alarm, summon reinforcements, and we'd be frelled.

So, we'd waited until the first four had ducked inside to switch places, and then triggered a lockdown. Sure, Dana was trapped inside with eight thugs for hire; but hell, she's Echani. She eats guys like that for breakfast, and then regurgitates them so she can pound the sweet dren out of them. If anyone can handle those odds, it's Dana.

Dismantling my sniper rifle as fast as I could - admittedly feeling a little disappointed that I didn't get to use it - I shoved the parts back in my duffel, and slung it over my shoulder. All that was left was my datapad; a few keystrokes and I was in, full access to the entire security mainframe. Yeah, that sounds unbelievably convenient, I know. I'm just that frelling awesome.

I made for the stairs that led off the roof, punching up the security cameras as I did; main corridor. There she was. There were they. I bit my lip, a wave of nerves and concern - or maybe just nausea - swirling around in my stomach. "C'mon, Dana," I muttered, glad that my comms weren't set to transmit everything I said. "You can do this."

[Andana Callax]

Short platinum locks shimmered in the emergency lights of the hallway, red and blue flickering as the building struggled to bring power back online. The power mainframe failed, finally, and the backup generator neglected to power itself on to help.

It made Dana's grin grow all that much more vicious.

Thankfully the blaster that sat snug in a holster down her back had been custom-built - it began life as a DC-19 Stealth carbine, but it sure as hell didn't look much like the original now. For one, it could fire far more than 10 shots in its highly valued stealth mode.

For another, it was compact enough to not hamper her movements - which, to an Echani, was the most critical feature for any weapon she carried. Pale eyes narrowed as she took stock of the broad hallway and the positions of each of the...thugs. That was the nicest thing she'd likely be able to say about them.

Two of the thugs behind Dana moved forward just as she spun around, each of them catching one of her hands as she brought them up. They smirked, and she shook her head with an almost pitying smile. She might be a petite little thing, but she was far, far stronger than she looked. That she owed to having inherited her mother's slender frame and her father's strength and agility.

Bloodshot eyes widened as she planted her feet and pulled, bringing them stumbling towards her. She dropped into a crouch as they let go of her and unsheathed her vibroknives, slicing deep into the backs of their thighs - immobilizing them as she sliced through flesh and muscle.

It took the pained screams of their comrades to launch the other lumbering hulks into action. Four of them charged her immediately as she tumbled out from her crouch and into a standing position. They moved a little faster than she'd anticipated, though with no less amount of rage and uncoordination between them than she'd expect. Hire thugs were often solo workers who, when thrust together in the worst of circumstances never could work in a cohesive unit.

Just once, Dana thought, she'd like to encounter a challenge like a fluid fighting team. Maybe ex-military...stormtroopers were always entertaining. Trooper Marines ever more so, and their uses extended beyond the battlefield.

Her breath was driven out of her with the impact of the first thug who caught her around the waist and drove her back into the wall. She felt the tell-tale pain in her chest that meant at least one rib had cracked, if not broken. That was going to be a bitch to heal unless they got paid for this heist.

If nothing else the pain refocused her mind and brought the encounter into sharper clarity. Her vibroblades were still clasped in her hands - an Echani who dropped her weapons wasn't much of an Echani - and plunged one of them into the side of his neck. Pale eyes narrowed as blood gushed forth, the blade sliding through the major arteries like a hot knife through butter. Her expression hardened as he let go of her and crumpled to the floor, while the other three paused ever so briefly to glance down at him.

It was enough to let the adrenaline racing through her system dull the pain and turn it into something she could use. Dana stepped forward into them and before they could react had slid right by in a graceful series of spins that would have made a dancer jealous. One by one they dropped, clutching at their throats, until she stood two meters away from the last pair.

They...were a little different. They stood back, blaster rifles trained on her, following her every moment with tight gazes. She arched a brow and slowly bent down to sheath her knives in her boots once more, noting with detachment that her pale grey silk-weave outfit was a total loss, as covered in blood as she was. And not all of it was red, she mused.

Arching a brow, she stood with her hands resting lightly on the hilts of her trusted blasters. She took a good long look at them, her head tilted and her expression showing nothing save boredom and disinterest. The one on the right was a typical human, tall, broad-shouldered...reasonably athletic and made her wonder if he'd played smashball. The one on the left, however...something was familiar about him.

Not as tall as the others, he made up for it with a leanly sculpted physique that bristled with weapons. She froze as she caught sight of his eyes, a distinct shape and a bright, lambent crimson she'd had recognized anywhere.

"Eric?" she managed to say in a whisper, blinking in complete shock and barely catching herself as she took a half-step forward.

He narrowed his eyes and glared at her as he spoke, his once warm voice rough and unfeeling. "Andana. I should have known it was you. See you finally came to your senses and left home."

"I thought you were dead, Eric. They told me you were dead..." her voice emerged in a weak version of her normally brash tone.

"Surprise, little sister. The black sheep of the family isn't dead like everyone hoped."

"That's not fair Eric-"


Dana's voice cut off as she stared down in surprise, a projectile from her brother's shatter gun buried in her side. Pain exploded across her senses, obscuring her vision as she watched the last pair retreat down the hall and disappear behind an emergency exit.

"Umm...Nen? I could use a hand here..." she managed to say as she tapped the comm in her ear, withdrawing a silver capsule from her pocket and breaking it open. A bright green fluid slid across the gaping wound and numbed the pain almost completely - but the effect was only temporary, and it wouldn't do much to stem the bleeding. Pressing a hand tightly over it with her shirt bunched up underneath, she pulled the DC-19 from the holster on her back and turned to head back down the hallway towards their objective.

[Nen Lev'i]

"You could use a hand?" I muttered under my breath, though the sound wound up a heck of a lot louder as it echoed down the vent shaft. It was all part of the ellaborate plan - we trigger a security lockdown, trap the reinforcements outside, and a handful of guards inside, and then I cut my way through a blast door and into the vent shafts using a lightsaber.

Yes. A lightsaber. Probably sold off by some bounty hunter or other who'd got tired of keeping it around as a trophy, or some dead private collector who'd acquired it somehow and his widow was selling it off so she could buy a gold-plated handbag, or something. But still. You'd be amazed what you can buy on the black market on a world like Nar Shaddaa, if you've got the credits.

So far, it was all going great. I was in the vents; Dana was kicking minimum wage thug ass all over the corridor; and then there'd been the gunshot, and those words. I didn't need the yellow glow of the lightsaber to make me look pale and sick: I felt it. "Dana," I muttered, weakly, mind flailing for some sort of scheme... plan...

Instincts kicked in, and I jabbed a finger into the activation stud on the 'saber, stabbing the thing trough the durasteel of the vent shaft. It melted through the metal like a knife through butter, little sparks of boiling metal spitting out, singing tiny specs onto my skin and clothes. I didn't care. It didn't matter. Dana was in trouble.

I carved a rectangular - well, rectangle-ish - hole into the durasteel; spent about a second marvelling at how neat I'd actually managed to be on my first try, before I tried to shove the thing down, and open up a hole into the corridor below. Except, well... it didn't budge. Some of the molten metal had cooled enough to provide more resistance than the scrawny little muscles in my arms could handle.

"Damn it," I grunted, shuffling forward - careful not to lnd my shins on anything hot - and tried to use my body weight to shove the weakened plate out of the way.

Bad plan.

The plate hit the ground with a crash about half a second before I landed on top of it. My feet had hooked the edge of the vent on the way down, so at least I landed more or less head first - head first enough at least to use my arms as a crumple zone, and merely knock the wind out of myself, rather than shattering anything. But still, it hurt like royal hell.

I rolled onto my back, a little dazed, before I managed to clamber to my feet and tugged out my blaster. I had no idea which way to go; it took me a minute to reverse-navigate the vent shafts in my head to work out which way the entrance was. Orientated, I set off at a run -

Voices made me duck through a side door. Bunch of thugs - including a nasty looking blue guy, holding a slugthrower. My gut twisted with rage, but I managed to hold it back; held myself still, hiding in the shadows as they passed. I caught a few scattered words. Sounded like he was boasting. My grip tightened on the lightsaber. Bastard.

There wasn't time for revenge though, no matter how awesomely cool it might be. So I waited for them to past, crept out, and sped off towards the entrance.

I couldn't find her. I hadn't reached her yet, and every step made me grow more worried and frantic. She was hurt; and for once on one of these damn jobs, she actually needed me. First time ever; and if I didn't find her soon, I'd let her down, the only time it would ever matter.

My voice was tight; tensed with concern. "Dana?" I called into my comlink, weakly. "Dana, where are you?"

[Andana Callax]

Blinking, she slid into the alcove at the end of the hallway and breathed a sigh of relief. Only, it turned into a grimace as pain began to seep into her senses around the numbing agent she'd poured on the wound. For a brief moment, she propped the DC-19 between the door and her knee, leaving her hands free to tear apart what remained of her shirt.

Most of it was carefully and quickly folded atop the wound, while the rest was used to tie the makeshift bandage in place. Dana really needed her hands free, especially as quickly as it seemed her stop-gap was going to wear off. Wiping her hands on her pants, she adjusted her black bandeau (http://i38.tinypic.com/2vc7sd4.jpg) and picked up her favorite toy once more.

Tilting her head, she looked up at the door and debated kicking it open, but without Nen's toys to tell them it was the right one, she hesitated and wondered if he were inside yet.

Footsteps reached her ears before his voice came across the comm, eliciting a smile and a sigh of relief before she managed a reply. "Alcove, far end of the hall. Briefcase should be in here if the intel is right." Dana murmured as she tapped the comm in her ear. She shifted her stance and turned into the other side of the alcove to be able to watch for his approach.

[Nen Lev'i]

I spun slowly on the spot, eyes darting between the three options that the floor plan presented to me. One I knew led towards the entrance; the others delved into the depths of the facility, branching off - in memory served - into numerous other halls along the way. Her comment that she was nearing the location of their target certainly ruled out the entrance hall, but that was scant help.

My insides twisted at the way her voice sounded. She was trying not to let me hear - trying to make sure that I wouldn't worry - but I could always tell. Three things I can always pick out as fake: gadgets, orgasms, and Dana saying that she's okay.

My hand rose to the comlink again. "Any chance you can be more specific than the hallway?"

[Andana Callax]

"Right...sorry...left-most branch off the entry, gray duracrete floor, as opposed to the other two that are revolting shades of green."

Dana replied before her lips pressed together in a tight line. There was a bit to much he could read into her tone, and she didn't like that at all. Gods, she hated to make him worry about her...she was supposed to be invincible.

Except, apparently when her supposedly dead brother shot her.

There was a question she wasn't looking forward to Nen asking.

[Nen Lev'i]

I peered at the floor, frowning heavily. It all looked grey to me; trust a woman to pick up on the subtle differences in the shading of the 'crete mix. I found the green - though to me, it looked more like a turquiose or teal, if I'mhonest - and, ruling them out, went for the more purpleish version, and set off a run.

Part of me wished I hadn't. Part of me wished it'd stayed lost, and never found her. Part of me wished that because, no matter how terrible I would have felt knowing that I'd failed her, it wasn't a patch on seeing her hurt.

You ever had that sensation where you desperately wanted to do something, but knew you couldn't? When it feels almost like you're being physically restrained, and yet there's nothing touching you; nothing stopping you? That's how I felt right then. I wanted to be able to take her in my arms, and keep her safe: shield her from everything. I wanted to grab that gun, sprint down that hallway, and blast every last bone in the body of whoever was responsible; make him feel a million fold what he'd inflicted on my Dana.

But I couldn't. That wasn't what I did. I was the tech guy. I was the back-up. I was the sidekick. Dana was the one who played hero; Dana was the one popping caps in asses.

Sidekicks don't get vengeance.

And sidekicks don't get hugs.

I managed to muster a sheepish smile for her, slipping just enough of my dispair into my voice to make it sound sarcastic. "What the hell is this?" I asked, gesturing towards the dressing she'd scrabbled together for herself, shaking my head. I made a move to shrug the kit pack off my shoulders, but stopped, my eyes narrowing. "If I try and patch you up before we get out of here, you're probably gonna kick me in the head or something, aren't you?"

[Andana Callax]

The panic in his gaze was there for only a moment, quickly stuffed away under the bravado he normally used around her. But she knew him a bit too well for that to work. It was sweet, really...sweet?! Damn, she was losing it and fast. It took her a little too long to wipe the tiny smile away from her lips, and left her hoping he just hadn't noticed it.


Dana slumped back against the wall and half closed her eyes, her gun dangling somewhat loosely in her right hand, while her left pressed her 'bandage' tight.

"This? This is the shirt you made me buy last time we were on Coruscant...apparently it doesn't stop slugs very well." Dana quipped, trying to force a little levity into her tone past the hints of pain.

Trying and failing, really.

"Normally, I would...but not this time, Nen. Just patch it over and we'll worry about the slug later. Need...need to get the case and get...get out...of here. Do you have a numbing cap-capsule? This one's wearing offf real quick..."

[Nen Lev'i]

She was right, of course.

About the shirt, I mean. It didn't stop slugs very well. At all, in fact. It did however stop me in my tracks, particularly when it finally dawned on me that I was looking at Dana without her shirt on. So, okay, there was that elastacated thingy stopping me from seeing anything good, but still. Shame it wasn't me that got to rip her shirt off -

That thought got firmly pushed to the side, and I dropped to a knee, rifling through my pack for the emergency med kit. I glanced up, hesitating at the words I was about to say, fighting violently against the urge to blush. "Take... uh... take your shirt off," I half-mumbled. Never thought I'd hear myself say that to Dana.

Momentarily, my eyes met with hers as I brandished the can of disinfectant expansofoam - something that some company cooked up to plug the holes from slug wounds to keep them clean and open; to keep them from healing up into ugly scabs and scars, and what-not - and I offered an appologetic smile. "This is gonna feel weird," I warned, "Kinda like the sick feeling you get when you've been kicked in the stones, but in your side."

I frowned. "Not that you have any -" Great. Slick move, there, Nen. "Or maybe some sort of lady part -" My eyes fell, creeping towards the associated area. That was worse. I wrenched my gaze back up, winced, and reinforced that appology smile. "This is gonna feel weird," I tried again.

[Andana Callax]

"And here I was, thinkin' you'd be all smooth like ya are with Ri, the first time you asked me to take my shirt off."

Dana tried to smirk knowingly, but her control was shot and it ended up an all too wicked kind of a smile. She knew full well about the redhead's appetites, and knew that what she and Kalail wanted, they always got. Especially if what they wanted had trouble saying no. That was another thing she took issue with them about. Not...that she'd said anything. Yet.

She carefully avoided his gaze as she peeled away the blood-soaked shirt and dropped it, fingertips exploring the mangled entrance wound. Before Nen could swat her hand away, Dana moved it up slightly, prodding at what felt like a cracked but not completely broken rib.

"So long as its sealed up, I dun care about weird..." she swore as the sensation felt just as 'weird' as he'd said, cursing at Eric under her breath.

[Nen Lev'i]

Smooth hardly seemed like an appropriate description of me on any day of the week; but I guess it worked, as a relative term. You're probably wondering why I'm more bumbling and awkward with the cute Echani girl than I am with the superfox pornstar, right? Well, I'll level with you. From the get-go, Irridia was always a no go; a no way; a no chance in hell. Same with the Boss. I knew that. I accepted that.

I'm not ready to accept that with Dana just yet.

I ignored her question, because I didn't trust myself not to say anything stupid - probably something about kissing it better, which would definately get me kicked in the head. Instead, I gently placed my fingers either side of the wound to hold it open, and let loose with the foam. I could feel the skin tighten as the stuff expanded into the track that the slug had left; felt it tense too as she winced, trying yet again not to let me see. I would've shaken my head if I wasn't concentrating: I thought it was us guys that were meant to buy into all that macho dren.

Satisfied that the would would hold for now, I bundled up the rags that had become of her shirt, and shoved them in my pack. It was a force of habit; while no one on Nar Shaddaa would waste their time trying to get law enforcement involved, on pretty much any other planet that was a definate concern, and there was no use leaving around an easy DNA trace. Might as well make those forensic bastards work for their tax credits to score a crime charge, only to have us skip bail, or worm our way out of a conviction somehow. Again.

I stood up, slinging the pack over my shoulder, and gestured towards the 'in here' she'd mentioned. "Ladies first," I offered, casually; quickly appending "Ladies with guns first," before I got shot.

[Andana Callax]

Leaning forward, she quickly kissed his cheek as he stood, very much before the hamster in her head could get the DON'T DO THAT filter moving again.

Stupid rodent.

Blinking up at him, Dana coughed and then concentrated on her gun for several moments, needlessly checking everything approximately fifteen times, all the while mentally wondering what the fuck had gotten into her.

Aside from the gods-be-damned slug.

When they got the hell out of here, Dana was heading straight for the cantina. Alcohol was in order after a mission and a day like this. It would help her make sense of everything. And even if it didn't, well, it couldn't get any more fucked up.

"Right...gun...through the door..." she muttered, stepping through as it whooshed open to reveal a standard sized storage room, with a myriad of crates and shelves scattered around the perimeter. Their quarry sat atop a small table roughly in the center of the room, under the lone light fixture. It was all a bit cliché, really, but who was she to argue.

[Nen Lev'i]

I can't describe how I felt; not if you've never felt that way yourself. I was stunned and confused; but I could feel the irresistable tug of a smile at the corner of my lips. My heart went nova, and a shockwave of wonderous, happy warmth raced out through my body. It was the strangest, most inexplicable, and most inappropriate sensation I had ever experienced; and also the most wonderful, and fantastic; better than drugs; better than chocolate; better than sex.

Well, okay. Not better than sex. And maybe not better than those awesome chocolate fountains where you get the little marshmallows on sticks to dunk in; few things are quite that fantastic. And hey, put the two together, and you've got one hell of a fun evening, particularly if you can convince the woman - or women - involved that if they keep 'exercising', they'll burn off the chocolate calories before they settle.

Woman involved?

Dana involved?

Sex, chocolate, and Dana?

Damn it, Nen. Focus. It was just the pain, probably; the pain, or the numbing agent, or the blood loss. Her judgement was clouded. Impared. Must be.

I sighed, following dutifully through the door, already feeling deflated at how effectively I'd talked himself out of any remote optimism on the subject. My eyes settled on the podium towards the centre of the room. "I guess that's it, then," I said, approaching carefully - almost reverantly - and leaving Dana to watch their six, or whatever it was that she did when I was in a room, absorbed in being geeky, and she was behind me.

Hell. Maybe she was staring at my ass. That's certainly what I'd do if our positions were reversed.

Without another hesitation, I wrapped my hand around the handle of the case, and yanked it free of where it rested. Above me, a synthesised siren began to wail; a warning of the security measures I'd just triggered. My eyes shot to Dana, preempting her complaint with a note of sarcasm in my words. "Oh no. The bad men that shot you will know we're here," I muttered, shaking my head as I strode past her and into the corridor.

I made it barely three steps before I stopped, eyes settling on the crowd of thugs bursting around the corner and into the hallway. I turned, practically diving back into the store room, shoving the emerging Dana back in with me.

I shot her a sheepish smile. "The bad men that shot you know we're here," I grunted, as my hand slammed on the door control, sending a sheet of thick metal to seal the entrance. But I knew that wouldn't be enough.

Setting the case down beside me, I pulled out my trusty black market lightsaber and, holding it close to the door controls, thumbed it into action. The blade leapt forward and lunged through the wall, sparks exploding from the controls as it pierced the circuitry. It was strangely satisfying, causing damage with such efficiency, but even that wouldn't be enough. I estimated; counted; searched my memory for how the door had looked on the other side. Killing the 'saber and stepping to the opposite side of the frame, I guessed at where the controls were on the outside, and repeated the process, stabbing blindly through the duracrete in the hopes that I could take the external controls out of the equation.

I sighed with relief, stepping back and stowing the 'saber. "That should keep them out for now."

[Andana Callax]

She sighed and pressed a bloody hand to her forehead, before following Nen out into the hall. His absolutely unruffled demeanor was endearing when it wasn't irritating the hell out of her as it normally did.

Dana hadn't decided which it was today as her attention was on keeping the peculiar numb sensation at bay and not getting shot again.

Slower than normal steps followed Nen out the door as she ignored the klaxons and flashing lights, eyes rising to glimpse Eric coming around the corner again and raising his slugthrower. Her eyes went wide as Nen spun on his heel and shoved her back inside and out of the line of fire. It was a startling few seconds with the flash of his lightsaber lighting the room, highlighting his features.

Dana had landed on her ass in an inelegant heap on the floor, eyes narrow as she glared at Nen. "Oh good job, Nen. Now you've locked us in here, them out there, and we have no way out." she hissed and struggled to get to her feet. As he set the case back down on the table she stood at the door, staring at it as she could hear muffled voices on the other side.

Arms crossed over her chest as a wince marred her features for several moments. "Dammit, Eric...I wish I knew what happened." she murmured softly.

[Nen Lev'i]

I motioned to fold my arms across my chest; luckily I managed to stop myself and disable the lightsaber before I actually did. That could have been messy. Really messy.

Arms as condescending as I could make them, I fixed Dana with a look of reproach. "Do you honesly think I'd trap us in here without some sort of plan for getting out?" Okay, so that's exactly what I had done. I had no clue how we were going to get out of this mess; the unfortunate thing about safes and security lock-ups was that they were fantastically good at serving as makeshift prisons, as well.

I frowned, standing there for a beat or two before I sprung into action. It was aimless action, of course - just pacing - but I made it look like I was searching the room or something, with some kind of purpose. Meanwhile, I was frantically searching my brain for useful information on the security system, floorplan, structural blueprints -

Blueprints. Blueprints, blueprints...

"Blueprints!" I exclaimed, snapping my fingers and spinning around on my heel to jab an accusing finger in Dana's direction. I returned to my sweep of the room with renewed vigour, sizing up the huge pillars of durasteel-lined duracrete that made up the skeleton of the building. "About a third of the way across..." I mumbled, pacing to the relevant point in the room. There was a crate in the way. I shoved it with my foot. It didn't move. Heaved into it with my shoulder. It still didn't move. I stopped. Sighed. Sidestepped a few meters.

"Under this room," I explained, dropping into a crouch, and gesturing towards the duracrete floor, "Is an old sewage duct from the building that was here before this one." I cocked my head to the side. "It's a long way, down, but -" But? But? I waggled my fingers, urging a thought to spark in my brain. One did. I lanced a finger out towards the gear I'd dumped beside the door. "- there's climbing equipment in my bag."

Dana stood, watching me. I had to make shooing motions to actually prompt her to go fetch it. I would have done it myself, but I had more important things to do. More awesome things to do. Like slicing through a duracrete floor with a lightsaber. I held the thing in front of my face, planted a kiss against the pommel, and pressed it gently to my forehead. Best. Purchase. Ev-

I frowned, my eyes catching something on the hilt. Small scores; symbols, maybe? Not a language I recognised, mind. That was intreguing. And cool. And irrelevant. I was getting distracted. Again.

Clenching my jaw and chastising myself for my attention span, I helt the emitter an inch or so above the floor, and thumbed the device into life. A fleeting thought struck me, and I hoped against hope that the floor above the tunnel was thin enough for the 'saber to make it all the way through.

[Andana Callax]

"Oh no you didn't just shoo me off to fetch something..." Dana muttered under her breath, shaking her head as in spite of herself she went towards his bag. She took off her back holster as she took the few steps, realizing at last that the shot to her side had torn through the strap and ruined it. She'd have to carry her baby the rest of the way.

She set it down next to Nen's bag and quickly opened the misshapen thing, making a mental note to accidentally burn this bag and buy him a new one. It was in appalling condition and hanging on by a thread...at least in her estimation.

Bloody hell...now she was as easily distracted as he was. Just what was in that damned foam he used to close her wound? Blinking, she stared at her right hand and shook her head, swearing that for the briefest moment she was seeing double. But that couldn't possibly be right.

No...Dana was just a little stressed, and she'd be just fine she mused, plucking the climbing gear out and securing the line to one of the duracrete pillars. She readied the gear as she stood near him and watched the lightsaber cut through the 'crete like a vibrosword through flesh.

[Nen Lev'i]

So, okay. I'm not the most fantastic arts and crafts person in the world. Every time I try and make something even, it always winds up a little squiffy around the edges. I put the effort in, and all that; I just don't quite have the execution worked out right. Even so, I was pretty impressed by how round the hole I'd carved in the floor looked. Which made it extra annoying when the section of duracrete didn't conveniently drop away, and smash against the sewage duct several meters below.

I dunno. Maybe I'd cut at a slight angle, and there was friction around the edges that prevented gravity from being able to yank it out properly. Or maybe some of the molten 'crete had cooled and resealed the gap, or was just causing extra friction and stickiness around the sides, or something like that. Honestly, I wasn't sure. But being me, I couldn't just admit that I'd screwed up. Oh, no. So I had to pretend like I had a plan. Make a few extra slices across the center of my nice neat circle; carve it up into smaller sections; stand up and try to smash through the thing with my boot -

Ironically, the brute force approach sorta worked. Well, brute force and logic, anyhow. I sliced some diagonals through the 'crete - basically carved a triangle cross-section that would drop away nice and easy, and then stamped on the weak point I'd created. My damn foot nearly disappeared into the chasm I opened, nearly dragging me to a painful, broken-leg, sewage-sodden landing below. It was only an unprecedented fluke of balance and agility that kept me stable.

Accidental success or not, I still managed to flash Dana a triumphant smile, grabbing the climbing gear from her; strapping the harness around my shoulders. Success has this weird affect on me; it makes me over-confident, and prone to showing off. So I didn't really think things through... I just jumped. I mean, okay: it's not like there was a convenient surface I could abseil down or anything. But still; it wasn't until about two seconds before the line snapped to it's full extention, and nearly snapped me in half that I realised how stupid I'd been.

Annoyingly, I was still a few meters off the floor. Not far enough for it to hurt, but certainly far enough to make the process of detatching my harness and letting myself drop free the rest of the way a little bit clumsy. I ignited my lightsaber - because of course, I'd been stupid, and not bothered to bring any of my other gear down with me - and briefly scanned the tunnel. I wish I hadn't, because it made me realise what I was standing in.

Looking upwards, I caught sight of Dana, peering down through the hole at me. "Send my equipment down next!" I shouted up, voice echoing back at me in a slightly creepy and sinister way, "And then you. There's a bit of a drop, but don't worry... I'll catch you."

[Andana Callax]

She frowned as she peered down at him, not liking the idea in the least. But she had no other choice, given that this was their only option for a hasty exit.

Could the day get any better?


Dana sighed as she lowered the rest of his gear down along with the silver case, waiting until he'd taken them off the end of the rope. Another moment saw her buckled carefully into her own harness and her lips pressed tightly together against the intense discomfort the strap crossing over her wound caused. She turned, looking back at the door as if gazing through it to the commotion outside as her ear caught Eric's voice. There was no time left to wait.

She compressed the clip holding her gear to the primary rope, letting it do most of the work as she slid down smoothly. Roughly halfway down, she realized her fingers had gone numb and unresponsive as her descent became sluggish.


"Nen? I can't....can't feel my fingers anymore..." Dana said softly, blinking down at him before she blacked out and her descent stopped abruptly, leaving her dangling.

[Nen Lev'i]

I'd almost forgotten about panicking. It was an indulgence that I was usually too busy for on these kind of jobs, and with everything that had happened, I'd completely forgot to tap into it to fill the brief reprieve.

But there it was. I knew, before those words tumbled out of her lips. Don't ask me how; I just... know these things. I could feel her consciousness flagging; could see her speed dropping; and then she slumped, hanging there in mid air.

I should have known better, of course. Should have set up a guide line, or something like that; made it so that I was lowering her down, not the other way around. Hell, I should have let her go first; I should have been the one waiting up there until the last minute. But no; I went and got my hero roles reversed. Instead of being the hero that waits until the last minute, making sure that everyone escapes the dangerous situation before being the last to leave, I'd decided to be the hero that dives into a dangerous situation first. I'd gambled on the wrong type of hero.

I swore under my breath, sizing up the distance between her and the ground. Now that I was standing, the rope didn't look that high of the ground anymore. But then, I was thinking with my head and my hands; I wasn't forced to size up the distance while suspended from a harness that hugged uncomfortably around my man parts. Even so, she was still a good few meters above that, suspended in the air half way between me, and the hole I'd carved in the vault floor.

Damn, that was a neat looking hole. But now was hardly the time to size up my handiwork.

I scanned around me, looking for anything that might help - debris I could stand on; something I could reach with; but nothing leapt out as obviously useful. I ran to my gear, rummaged through the equipment I'd brought; found another set of those climbing gizmos that I'd bought on a whim - weird, clamp type things, that gripped onto the rope like a deadlock. They were designed to be used to lower yourself down slowly, just like Dana had been doing. Alternatively -

I grabbed my harness; haulled it back over my legs; over my shoulders; strapped on the rest of the climbing gear. I let one of the clamps hang from my belt, bashing against the insides of my knees like oversized cartoon testicles; no time to dwell on that, though. I backed up, giving myself a good few meters of distance from the rope; ran; and jumped.

Words cannot describe how damn relieved I was when my fingers wrapped around that rope; they can't describe the gut-wrenching panic either, as I realised that the only thing stopping me from being swung off the rope and thrown by inertia into the duracrete walls of the sewer pipe was my scrawny little biceps. I fumbled at my waist, haulled up the clamp, and wrapped it around the rope; let myself hang from it a moment, to let the adrenaline subside. There wasn't much time to waste, though; Dana needed me. Again.

Reaching up the rope as far as I could, I pulled, the synthetic fibres biting into my hand as I struggled to lift my own bodyweight. Oh, gods, it hurt like hell, and I swore at myself for avoiding the gym, instead of just practicing harder when Dana had laughed at my feeble pull-up efforts. I grabbed the clamp; slid it up; advanced a foot higher up the rope. Then rinse; repeat; another foot. And another. And another -

By the time I let myself stop, I was right alongside her, my body hanging suspended right beneath hers, ready to cushion her landing just in case, oh, I don't know... the people trying to kill us managed to break down the door, and cut the suspicious looking rope suspended through the hole in the floor.

Don't panic. Breathe. Concentrate.

Her breathing was shallow, and clearly she was in a bad way; even so, she looked almost peaceful for a person suspended ten meters above the ground, and I didn't have the heart to wake her. Instead I reached around her; grabbed the clamp on her rope; loosened the brakes enough for her to drop a few inches, the weight of both of us held by my own safety line. One hand on her clamp, the other on mine, I inched us slowly down, lowering us towards the ground; or at least, as far as the rope would permit. The clamp snagged on the safety knot I'd tied in the end of the rope, to make sure that Dana didn't simply drop off the end when she reached the bottom.

Damn.

I'd dropped from here. It wasn't so bad. But then, I'd been conscious. With Dana out of it, there was no way she could unstrap herself; and then I'd be stuck with the problem of her suspended over my head. Somehow, I doubted she'd appreciate another running jump attempt, given the orientation I'd likely land in. Ideas, ideas, id-

"Sorry, Dana," I muttered, dropping her bodyweight down against mine again, and shuffling the clamp as low down on the rope as it would go. With my free hand, I fumbled at her waist; plucked out the hunting knife she kept there. Deep breaths. Confidence. Come on, Nen.

I reached up; pressed the blade against the rope above me; twisted myself so that there was no way she'd do anything but land on me. "Really sorry," I added into her ear, my chin over her shoulder, my shoulder providing neck support for the imminent fall.

Then, without another word or thought, I thumbed the vibroblade into life, and let it slice through the rope like butter.

[Andana Callax]

A faint murmur of pain passed her lips as they fell, and another, less faint than the first as they landed in a heap. She stirred, but only the slightest bit, as she curled into his chest where she'd landed, forehead pressed against the side of his neck.

Dana slowly came to, opening one eye first, and then the other, cursing her existence as a fresh wave of pain set in. She squeezed her eyes closed and tilted her head back, trying to puzzle out where she was.

Right...abseiling...fingers numb...Nen...

...where is he, anyway?

Her eyes flew open as she realized where she was sitting and just how much she didn't mind being there. Silver eyes blinked as she met his gaze, cheeks flushed with warmth that she hoped could be attributed to feeling more than a bit poorly. "How...long was I out?" she asked softly, trying to find a delicate way of getting out of Nen's lap, without rushing and making the moment even more awkward.