Dodging Glances From the Walls, Attn: Maris Kala'myr, Mercury Flux

"What's wrong? Is he another of your 'friends'?"

Daniel was so focused in on the Devaronian that he almost didn't catch Mercury's inquiry. "What? Oh. No. Not a friend," he stammered out, embarrassed. He gave a small, self-deprecating chuckle that was more to put himself at ease than to satisfy his allies' concerns. His entire body had gone rigid, stiff. It was reacting to the danger that his mind was no doubt perceiving right now. The fight or flight response had been triggered, and running didn't seem particularly good of an idea, not when he had both Mercury and Maris to back him up should it come down to a fight. The slicer sincerely hoped it wouldn't, but if it did, his odds would be significantly increased for the better with his new companions' assistance. That is, if they decided to step in and help as opposed to leaving him out to dry. He wasn't exactly their problem, really. "Definitely not a friend."

The Devaronian stalked up the bar, taking a seat and summoning the attention of the bartender. Even with his attentive senses strained, Daniel couldn't make out what the Devaronian and the bartender were discussing, but if he had to guess, it was probably about a twitchy little slicer whom had been seen in the vicinity. The bartender had seem him enter, knew he was over there; would he snitch and screw Daniel over? It was likely, and for the few agonizing seconds as Jaskk gesticulated and spoke to the listening bartender, Daniel forgot to breathe. His body seemed intent on remaining as still as it could, as though that would somehow magically allow him to turn invisible, or to disappear. If only he had a stealth generator, that would be one purchase that he knew he wouldn't regret; perhaps he should look into it . . . if he managed to escape from the predicament that was fast approaching its climax. Any moment the bartender could betray his location, and then things would go downhill. Fast. The other scenario involved the bartender lying, and what reason would he have to do that?

Shaking his head, the bartender seemed to affirm a negative answer and Daniel found his own head mimicking the action. Hope was rising within him; it didn't seem as though the bartender was going to sell him out, after all! Maybe there were good, decent people in the Galaxy, after all! Even in a scummy place like Mos Gamos, Tatooine. Who would have figured? But the Devaronian didn't seem convinced or satisfied with the answer and his hand strayed to his side. Daniel sunk lower into his seat, as though trying to melt right into the cushioned booth itself. Instead of pulling out a weapon, though, he withdrew a wallet and slid a few credit chips towards the bartender. A bribe. It was smart, really. But whatever reason the bartender had had for lying the first time wouldn't stand up to the greed that was naturally embedded within every person in the Galaxy, a Galaxy that ran on money. He seemed undecided for a moment more, but it was a brief moment. Then he was pointing an accusing finger over towards the booth where three people sat: a dark-skinned man with large hair, a beautiful woman, and a skinny man whose horror at being spotted could not have been more apparent.

That gruesome grin that had been given him once before spread again across the Devaronian's mouth as his yellow eyes narrowed in on the human male. He didn't make a move towards them, obviously put off by what could only be interpreted as the human male's new friends. Though they were little more than acquaintances still, Daniel was very much grateful to his own ingenuity in joining up with Maris and Mercury. His initial instinct, although worrisome at first, had come through once more. It didn't seem as though the horned sentient was going to make a move with his prey surrounded by other people who might come to his aid. A debate seemed to pass across his face, as though he were tempted to try his luck and attack anyway, though he ultimately seemed to decide against it and departed from the cantina. It couldn't have been as easy as that if Daniel's earlier experiences with the trio were anything to go by. Jaskk was likely just going for the rest of his buddies, wherever they may be. If he had to guess, they'd be coming back soon and in full force to get their vengeance and they wouldn't let anyone stand in their way.

"Uh, you know," Daniel began, using a finger to loosen his collar in what would have been seen as a nervous cliché in any good holomovie. "I'm feeling kind of tired . . . You guys wouldn't mind cutting the night short and heading back, would you?" If they did, well, then he wasn't sure what he'd do, but sticking around here was going to end up being a good way to get shot. Heading outside alone didn't seem to appealing either considering that they could be waiting out there for an opportunity to jump him the moment he leaves. And even if they weren't directly outside, walking down the dark alleys of Mos Gamos at nighttime was just tempting fate. Decisions, decisions. They were what made life so difficult sometimes. The slicer wished that there was some sort of technological device that could tell him the best thing to do, but even math and science had their limits of clairvoyance.

Maybe he should be honest with Mercury and Maris about all this, maybe they'd help him out if they knew what sort of trouble he was in. The fact that they were Confederates made him hesitant to explain the details, or entreat upon them for aid, but desperate times called for desperate measures. They were the only ones around who would be willing to lend him a helping hand. If the Confederation really was a government for the people, then wouldn't they be obliged to help him out? He was a Confederation citizen, after all! Sure, he was also a criminal that constantly fought against the established system of authority, but it was only so he could squeak out the meager existence he led. They knew about his past imprisonment, and still agreed to allow him to assist them in their mission so obviously they trusted him to a degree. And . . . and he was an asset! He was an asset to them because of his skills; he was one of the best slicers around. He could help them, he could. They needed him. If he was dead, he wouldn't be much help then, right?

Swallowing his reluctance, Daniel sat up in his seat a bit straighter and spilled the facts of the matter. "Okay, it's like this: when I first ran into you, I wasn't headed anywhere, but rather running away. From those three that you saw earlier, to be specific. They want me dead. I'm not sure why." A lie. He knew why, but that didn't really matter because it was a stupid reason anyway. It's not like he'd purposely screwed them over all those years ago. They should've just let sleeping laigreks lay. But noooo. "I give you my word--I swear--whatever I did, whatever they think I did, isn't worth me dying. I'm not actively seeking trouble, you know? I wasn't looking for a fight or anything. I just . . . want to put the past behind me and start over. Live my life. That's it." It was the closest thing to a heartfelt appeal for his life that he could manage then and there with no prior preparation. While it probably wasn't the most sincere utterance, it still had its truths within it. Enough to warrant him earning what he was after.

"I just thought that since we're working together and everything that you should know," he said, meek and quiet. "Just in case." His eyes fell to Eloise on his lap who seemed unconcerned by anything save for Maris whom she was still eying with suspicion. "I'm sorry to be so much of a problem. I promise I'll make up for it. I really am good at what I do." That was an undeniable fact. Daniel may have been socially challenged, and may have had Lady Luck gunning for him, but when it came down to his knowledge and his skills . . . well, you couldn't find a better self-taught slicer outside of the Core.

"[ . . . ] Definitely not a friend."

That became obvious by the behaviour shown once Daniel had seen his acquaintance. There were few things Mercury had seen that looked so pathetic; trying to merge into a seat was a mighty step to take when attempting to avoid someone. Exactly what business the pair had the pilot could still not fathom, but one thing was for certain; they were not on good terms. Whatever Daniel had done, this Devaronian was not going to invite him over for a drink and exchange pleasantries. Even as Maris exchanged a look that disagreed with any such precaution as drawing his weapon, the Lorrdian still couldn't sit easy with a threat being so nearby. His hands returned to the table in front of him, wrapping around the glass and taking a sip. If push came to shove, and the Devaronian tried to jump them at their table, the little glass would serve as a good deterrent if pushed with enough force into the thugs face. Mercury didn't agree with the occupation Daniel had chosen to go with, but his crimes seemed nothing compared to his future prospects should the ruffian get his hands on him. It wasn't just the mutual benefit that the Confederates got from having Daniel work for them, but the fact that the slicer was another living being with every right to a peaceful life like anyone else. Just because this Devaronian disagreed didn't mean that the opposite would be so. Thumper was a Confederate soldier, and breaking the law would not happen when he was around. The thugs intimidation of Daniel would not be tolerated, and if any kind of action came against the seemingly diminutive human then whether their mission brief dictated it or not, Mercury would have to act. He hadn't signed up with the thought of blowing up the Hutts business, or fighting the despicable rebels, but to help the people that needed it.

With anticipating eyes the pilot watched as the bully wandered over to the bar, chatting with the bar man before slipping him a bribe. Well, that certainly wasn't allowed, but something told him that Maris wouldn't be too pleased if he wandered up there and confronted the pair at present. The situation was delicate enough, the little things like that would have to be overlooked for the time being. Once Daniel was safely tucked away from the Devaronian then perhaps Mercury would be able to find the time to come back at confiscate the bribe, as well as dishing out a warning before calling it in for another officer to come by and check up. Of course, there was every chance that another string of bribes would begin involving the Confederate officer, but Thumper had trust in his colleagues, and was sure that the likelihood of such a thing happening would be very low. There were plenty of good people within the organisation that wouldn't be so inclined to accept things like that. Unfortunately the Devaronian spotted the group, but declined from coming over straight away to spark some trouble. Instead he left, which only brought up the reason why. No doubt Maris and Mercury's presence had been the defining factor into his decision not to act, but with his disappearance the Lorrdian could only wonder what he'd return with. Some weapons perhaps, that would give him the upper hand? Or was he simply going to go and find more manpower? Leaving now was an appealing option, but the Devaronian could simply be waiting for them once they did so. Whatever happened, trouble was brewing, Mercury could feel it in the air. Like a scent from another room it drifted to him, then consumed by his sense of smell and alerting him to the likely happenings in the near future. This night would not end quietly.

"[ . . . ] You guys wouldn't mind cutting the night short and heading back, would you?"

It was in that moment that Thumper finally came to a decision by himself. Leaving was certainly the best course of action they could take. Whatever was going to happen, it would be dangerous and between having a firefight inside a bar or out in the relatively deserted streets of Mos Gamos, Mercury would pick the latter. There wasn't any point endanger people without due reason, and right now there was none. The chances of a nil percent death rate between the occupants of the bar was incredibly low, and there was no way Mercury and Maris could ensure the protection of them should the Devaronian's friends get trigger happy. They had no part in the Confederate agent's business, and especially not the slicers. It was unfair to drag them into trouble unnecessarily. With a glance over to Maris, who obviously had the last say, Merc decided to throw his two cents in, just to make sure she was aware of the facts that led him to his own decision.

"We should leave; I get the feeling he's going to come after us soon whether we're in public or not. If we're lucky we could lose them in the street."

Sure, that would be hard, but it was the only plan the pilot could formulate that didn't involve some bodily harm coming to one of the groups, and he doubted the thugs would be enough for two highly trained Confederates, so that left only one other outcome. If they were to lose them it would have to be in the second half of their journey. Should they leave down the same route they'd come, first they'd need to traverse the empty quadrant of Mos Gamos, which would leave them terribly vulnerable to a number of attacks. After that though the crowds came, and with them cover. Slipping away from view would be simple, especially if the streets were still as busy as before -- which the Lorrdian was fairly confident of, since drinking seemed a popular occupation of ones time on Tatooine. After that, when entirely sure they weren't being tailed they could spend the remainder of the night in Daniel's room until the Devaronian and his friends got tired of searching for them. At which point the real mission could begin, one that was sure to prove much harder than evading petty fights from low league thugs. It was going to be an encounter where neither party would get away entirely unscathed by the experience, but if all went well the Confederates and their new party member would come away reasonably well, while the Hutts reeled from the repercussions.

"[ . . . ] Live my life. That's it."

The plea wasn't entirely sincere, but it was enough to bring something akin to pity from the pilot. He'd already decided to help Daniel out, but this just sealed the deal. If the slicer truly was trying to start a new life, Mercury could sympathise when the past crept up and made things difficult. Granted, Daniel was slightly at fault for deciding to return to Tatooine -- a very well known hive of criminals and general morally ambiguous members of society -- but then again work wasn't easy to find on the nicer worlds. Even Coruscant wasn't the most opulent place for employment, and so people were forced to branch out to places they would have otherwise not considered. These problems likely stemmed from the war, which inevitably drew attention away from every other issue. Despite the Confederations size, the Alliance were causing enough trouble to case enough headaches and while they tried to counter the rebels public duties were put on hold. Jobs only came from within the military, and other militarily related industries, like shipyards, weapons manufacturers and independent security companies. Daniel didn't seem the type to move into that kind of occupation, and as such his options were no doubt rather slim, and who could resist the lure of the criminal underworld when funds were stretched? Mercury couldn't blame him, as much as he'd like the slicer to make a u-turn and put his skills to better use. There were plenty who would employ him if he was indeed as good as he made out to be. Likely the only thing he needed were a few positive recommendations, and as little weight as Thumper's word probably held, he would be happy to help the slicer out if the man needed it.

"[ . . . ] I really am good at what I do."

"If that man decides to cause trouble then we'll deal with him when it happens. I'm sure between us we can defuse the situation one way or another," that was for sure. Mercury was ready to use force if necessary. There was no chance he'd risk the health of either Maris or Daniel just to protect some lawless Devaronian. A little overpowering might even help to deflate the thugs ego a little bit, or teach him not to pick on people for no good reason. Tatooine would be a much better place if people were more cautious about people, even if they didn't look like much. Mercury would certainly fit the bill, being so slight and small as he was, and if truth be told Maris was no heavyweight either. But Thumper was confident that she too had received enough training to make up for those weaknesses, as many perceived them to be. If anything, Maris was probably trained to a much higher degree, being some mysterious agent from some unknown branch of the Confederation. She was still an enigma as far as Mercury was concerned, which gave him the occasional feeling of apprehension towards her. The pilot knew she wasn't a bad person, but there was always that fear of the unknown that seemed inherent to all living beings. Mercury liked to know a bit about the people he worked with, and although they were slowly getting there, understanding what her role was within the Confederation would put his mind at rest.

"Definitely not a friend."

Discretely her eyes followed the hostile Devaronian as he approached the bar. Every scrap of information the droid could gleam from his stance and mannerisms was assimilated and a complete entry of the fellow was created within her databanks. If Maris was anything it was efficient and she would know what the Devaronian was planning to do before its simple mind even began to form the thought.

Silently the droid approved of the hostile's approach to the situation. Under many situations, bribery was more adept at extracting information than physical violence. It was more discrete and gained less stares than slowly cutting on an informant until they spilt their guts. Maris knew that from experience and the informant did spill his guts, quite literally. Of course, bribery could only be exploited when surpluses of funds were at hand and some sentients had a particularly high price. Sometimes the cost outweighed the advantages of discrete information acquisition.

She smiled softly as the fiendish Devaronian narrowed his eyes upon their slicer who was failing to merge into the comfortable seat. They had been made and Maris simply sipped her drink. The probability that the hostile would approach was minimal. But the droid was on guard nonetheless. Her pistol could be drawn at the slightest provocation and she would fire without warning. She didn't have any moral qualms about killing, especially when an assignment hung in the balance. Unfortunately for the Devaronian and his comrades, they now stood between Maris and her goal. That was not a place one wished to be. Sipping her wine, she watched the target leave. He had made a wise decision. However, predictive algorithms calculated his return. This wasn't over yet.

"Uh, you know, I'm feeling kind of tired . . . You guys wouldn't mind cutting the night short and heading back, would you?"

Daniel didn't look tired, if anything, he looked like he was ready to bolt for the door and never look back. Frowning, the droid shook her head and tried to compute why humans said one thing whilst meaning the opposite. It was illogical and impractical. He was showing intense fear markers and his stress levels appeared off the chart. This was not the time to be sleeping. Unless, somehow, their intrepid guide found the thrill of being chased soothing. She would have enquired before Mercury cut in.

"We should leave; I get the feeling he's going to come after us soon whether we're in public or not. If we're lucky we could lose them in the street."

It was probable that the Devaronian would return with his friends. This could end tonight and Daniel would have a weight lifted from his shoulders. It was not her concern how much weight was upon the slight build of their slicer, unless it interfered with their operation. Those three could prove troublesome. It was within that moment that their fates were sealed. Looking between her two accomplices as they spoke in turn, Maris waited a moment before nodding. A tactical retreat was the best course of action for now.

"Okay, it's like this: when I first ran into you, I wasn't headed anywhere, but rather running away [...] Live my life. That's it."

"I know," said the droid quietly after taking another swig of wine and moistening her lips. She slid the glass towards the centre of the table. "I am very observant," she added with a grin. Sliding out from the booth, Maris patted down her clothing and looked to Daniel, "We should leave soon if you wish to avoid hostilities, Mr Davies." There was little compassion in her voice and it sounded like she was reciting from a text book.

"I just thought that since we're working together and everything that you should know. Just in case. [...] I really am good at what I do."

"If that man decides to cause trouble then we'll deal with him when it happens. I'm sure between us we can defuse the situation one way or another."

"Your candour is appreciated, Mr Davies. Thank you for sharing that information." The droid said quietly with a small grin on her lips. She turned to Thumper as he spoke, grimacing slightly, and tilting her head to the left. "Yes, as my associate put it. We can diffuse the situation one way or another." There was a subtle emphasis on the last word. Maris had already ruled out a number of ways that this situation could be diffused and only one existed within her cerebral processors. Luckily for Davies, it was the most permanent of the solutions.

"Follow me, please," she said sweetly, heading towards the door. Now that the situation had changed and the possibility of hostilities was high, she would be taking point. Besides, they no longer needed Davies as a guide. Maris had recorded their route from his lodgings to the bar, backtracking wouldn't be an issue. Stepping out into the chilly night air with the smallest of smiles upon her lips, Maris scanned their surroundings for threats. Only once she was sure that they were safe to continue did she begin to walk.

"If that man decides to cause trouble then we'll deal with him when it happens. I'm sure between us we can defuse the situation one way or another."

There was something distinctly reassuring about those words despite the threat of violence within them. For once, it wasn't being directed at him but rather in his defense. Should the Devaronian and friends return in hopes of giving the slicer a good thrashing, his new colleagues would be willing to stand up for him. It wasn't something that he was used to, having someone else prepared to go to bat for him. In fact, the only other time in his recent past in which he had another genuinely looking out for him and his interests was when Brin had defended him way back when from a crazed Espo whom had been looking to take his life for a few aged crimes. And then there was Dolomar when he'd been part of the rescue operation as much as anyone else, and so had been under his associates protection then as well. But with Brin, it'd always felt as though it was more than just duty, like she was . . . like she was really his friend. Well, he hoped so anyway. It was nice to have a friend.

And so it was once again a rather great relief to have people amongst him who were willing to put up with his quirks and help him out of his problems, even when they were unrelated to the task at hand. Trouble had a naughty habit of following him everywhere he went, shadowing him like a spectre of death just waiting for an opportunity to strike, just waiting for its chance to come crashing down on Daniel like a hammer. So it was that he was more than grateful for any and all who could see past the messed up man that presented himself first and foremost to the good guy beneath; and appreciate that guy that they found there. Daniel knew he wasn't perfect--far from it--but he liked to consider himself a decent person, humane and just in the ways that mattered most. In truth, he was just a little lost. Okay, more than a little. He was really lost, having been set adrift in the Galaxy for years with no clearly defined destination. He needed an anchor of any kind, really. Whether that was a friend or something else, he'd have liked to have one. For now, it was just survival, and that was too broad of a category to provide any immediate comfort or grounding.

"Yes, as my associate put it. We can diffuse the situation one way or another."

His relief was further cemented by the woman's words. Despite appearances, Daniel couldn't help but feel as though there was something truly dangerous about Maris. Her cool demeanour was all at once consolatory, assuaging any of his fears that he'd be alone in this situation, but it was accompanied by vestiges of an unspoken deadliness. He'd only met her twice, this being the third time, and all previous times their meeting had been purely coincidental and beneath friendly enough pretenses. The slicer didn't know what the female Confederate was capable; he could only guess. Being the paranoid person that he was, he was more than willing to give Maris the benefit of the doubt in her skills and abilities, pegging her as one of the elite amidst the Confederation's employed soldiers. She certainly wasn't like most 'feds that he'd had the displeasure of coming up against. In fact, Maris could be rather amiable . . . and nice. At least, she was nice to him, for whatever reasons. He didn't analyse the logic there too much because he'd rather just appreciate her genial attitude towards him. And as long as she was on his side, he had nothing to worry or fear from her. Right?

"Thank you, thank you," Daniel replied in a rush of syllables. "You won't regret it. Helping me, I mean." Part of frequently dealing with sentients who weren't much smarter than a plank of wood was the habit of needing to explain one's self to them. Daniel often elaborated more than was probably necessary because of this habit that had developed rather than because he thought those he was speaking to didn't understand him or weren't capable of comprehending. Not to mention, his mouth tended to ramble on in conjunction with his overeager mental processes, and it was like trying to suddenly stop a hovertrain that was going over a hundred miles per hour; an impossibility most times, in other words. Luckily, most either didn't notice or seem to mind, adding the quirk to a long list of ones that the twitchy man was in possession of.

"Follow me, please."

Daniel was always happier in a submissive role rather than a dominant one. He was a follower by nature, and a leader by circumstances. Being independent as he was left him with a gaping hole in regards to someone to follow and obey, forcing him to make his own decisions, do his own things, and generally suffer the consequences of the choices that he himself made. This could be why he enjoyed working for employers so much as opposed to just doing his own thing; they gave him direction, a goal, and a reward. On a mission, there was very little more than that that Daniel needed, except for maybe a challenge and that was almost always guaranteed in such a shady business like slicing. Contrary to most people's feelings, Daniel liked being told where to go, what to do, when to do it. He liked having someone else in control that way he didn't have to be totally responsible for everything that happened to him. It was sort of nice not to have to think out everything, but rather just go with the flow, letting what happened, happen, and allowing someone else be the fall guy for transpiring events.

At the same time, it was also just nice to work with another living person for once. Computers were fine and all, but a little social interaction did wonders for the soul. On that note, once it seemed that the coast was clear, Daniel spoke to Mercury while Maris maintained the lead some feet ahead of them. "So, do you two work together a lot?" he inquired quietly, thinking it was a safe enough question to ask. His eyes wandered back to the dark-haired woman who confidently, but cautiously continued ahead. "Is she always so . . . so . . .?" He couldn't think of the word even whilst his brain ran through dictionaries that he'd memorised in his spare time. There just didn't seem to be an appropriate word to describe Maris or the way she acted. He would have settled on enigma, but that didn't quite fit. Whatever the word, it wasn't a negative one. No, aside from her being a Confederate, he really couldn't say anything bad about her.

Glancing downwards at Eloise, he wondered if his thoughts and spoken questions were inappropriate.

((Does anything happen on their way back to the motel?))

(( Indeed something does. When they haven't gone more than a hundred yards away from the cantina, their horned stalker shows up again. His minions/thugs for hire have reappeared as well, all looking mightily pissed that a scrawny little human managed to escape them once before. It looks like he's summoned up a few additional brutes for the occasion, to deal with the unexpected presence of Daniel's new allies.

The Devaronian smiles that horrible smile of his as he and his 'friends' move to surround the trio. "Leaving so soon, Lucky? I can't let you do that... there's still our unfinished business to deal with." ))

Thumper was quick to follow Maris out, keeping Daniel close by just in case anything should happen. It was more instinct that actual thought, done so many times in the past with important people, droids and objects that the Renegades had been assigned to protect over the years. Even if someone else was watching over them, Mercury liked being nearby. Not that he didn't trust others, oh no, he was sure whoever was working with him was picked for good reason, and had no such doubt in Maris' abilities. But there was nothing worse than being unable to react to a situation. That gut-wrenching feeling when you see something terrible happen but are too far away, not quick enough or just not in a position to help out. Mercury had felt it plenty of times, time and time again, one after another. Space combat left you isolated from others, especially those outside your Flight. All you could do was watch as another Renegade was captured in crossfire and torn apart, shredded by the horrifyingly pretty streams of light liberally shot out across the battle sector. There was nothing that could be done, which was possibly the worst bit about the entire thing. The Lorrdian knew every one of the Renegades that were shot down, not just from their last battle but the one before that too, and every one stretching back to the time that he joined, and he wouldn't forget them. Even though the records were wiped, Mercury kept his own little database, but unfortunately he felt he was forever adding to it. A little memorial to them, if nothing else, to his friends, not his colleagues.

"So, do you two work together a lot?"

The pilot had slightly gone off in a daze, as terrible as that was for the slicers safety, but thoughts like those often consumed him one way or another. His head snapped over to Daniel in a manner altogether unlike his usual laid back, carefree self, causing several dreads to bounce and shake atop his head. But the question brought a smile to his face, despite the surprise. It wasn't strange to believe that Daniel was having the same problem getting used to Maris' behaviour as Mercury was. She was a lovely person, as far as the Lorrdian could tell, and there was nothing in her behaviour so far that didn't indicate she was honest too, which was a delightful thing to find among undercover agents. Yet, there was just something odd about her, the way she spoke the way she acted. Mercury was unable to describe it, but being a master of body language he could tell Maris' wasn't quite like everyone elses. The only explanation the pilot could come up with though was that the woman had gone through different training, likely more intense to try and prepare her for missions like this one on a regular basis, perhaps even long term ones. It didn't matter though, as long as Mercury could become friends with her their different lives within the Confederation didn't matter. At the end of the day, they were still allies, even if the woman might be from Mercury's rivals; the Army.

"Is she always so . . . so . . .?"

"I'm not sure, this is our first mission together," the Lorrdian answered truthfully. It wasn't like information of this nature was endangering their mission, was it? Either way, Daniel was going to be working with them, so it would be his arse on the line. Mercury doubted Maris was all sugar and rainbows when it came down to the task at hand, and was even more doubtful she was prone to forgiving betrayal. Thumper certainly wasn't. But the slicer seemed a very nice guy when it came down to it, he wouldn't sell them out, Merc was sure of it. "I think it's her usual behaviour, I haven't noticed a change since I met her. She's nice though, trust me there are much worse people in the Confederation."

A gospel truth if ever there was one. Even within the Renegades one could find worse eggs than Maris -- not naming names, Hadrian. Mercury was still thanking his lucky stars to have someone along who was at least amiable towards him and others, even if she seemed not to have the same sense of humour as anyone the pilot had ever met. Perhaps she was just too caught up in her work to get out much, Thumper knew the type -- Hadrian -- and wouldn't put it past the Confederation to create another with the same social patterns. Still, the Lorrdian couldn't understand their mindset. He was very much a social creature, and found himself feeling much worse when he was left alone for long periods. Had it not been for his hectic and erratic schedule, the Confederate would have likely bought a pet, but as it was giving the poor thing enough attention would be difficult, and had Mercury been in the animals position he'd have wanted social contact on a regular basis. There was always time for that when he retired though. Mercury still had places to visit, people to meet. The galaxy was a big place full of exciting things, and the pilot wasn't going to stop until he'd experienced everything. Tatooine could come off the list, forever, since he doubted it was somewhere he'd like to come to. Hopefully one day he'd get an assignment on Zeltron, or Naboo, those would be fun and relaxing for sure, even if he had work to do.

"You probably know her better than I do. Where did you two first meet?"

It had been nagging him for some time, how and in what circumstances the two had met. With information like this he could also properly judge the slicer's history, and with better understanding came more trust. No one enjoyed the unknown, and often held a fear towards it, but once knowledge came people relaxed. Mercury didn't so much mind the facts, but rather relaxed once he'd gotten to know the individual. It was a strange way of doing things, and often left him open to terrible situations where he'd ended up being manipulated, but it was in-built, something Mercury had been doing even during his early years on Lorrd. There was no getting rid of it now, certainly not. Thumper would forever be stuck with it now, the only thing he could do was hope that he never met the wrong people. So long as he kept around good circles, there was little chance he would find himself the subject of abuse of any kind. The Renegades presented a nice little cushion to fall back on anyway, forever being there for one another, like one giant family -- prone to engagements with the enemy. It was strange to think how things might have gone had the Lorrdian not signed up, very strange indeed.

Everything stopped when the Devaronian and his gang emerged, seemingly from the shadows rather than any alleyway. Mercury didn't make any suddenly movements for his gun though, not yet. They didn't want a firefight to erupt unnecessarily, and that was all that would happen if someone make hasty actions. All the Lorrdian did was grasp Daniel's bicep, hoping to keep him close to provide some form of protection. They were, after all, trying to bring harm to him primarily. The two Confederates had simply gotten in the way of the thugs and their objective, and like most people the gang were ready to overcome those obstacles in order to succeed. But that wasn't going to be an easy task, especially since the pair had the element of surprise. They weren't just some hired goons, they were trained specialists and by far a match for the crudely armed men. This wasn't going to be easy, for anyone, and with the criminals moving to surround the three humans something was going to kick off any moment.

"Leaving so soon, Lucky? I can't let you do that... there's still our unfinished business to deal with."

There was a horrible smile on the Devaronian's face, one that twisted his features unnaturally making him look like some gruesome gargoyle rather than a person. It was also mocking of the situation they were in, which Mercury didn't like one bit. There would be no greater pleasure than to snap a pair of stun cuffs around those violence prone arms of his and leave him for the authorities to snatch up. He'd learn his lesson the hard way, through the justice system of the Confederation. There was possibly no greater torture than that anyway. He'd certainly be a different man when he came out the other side. Still, regardless of the movement and the actions of the thugs Mercury remained steadfast, making sure that while he watched and tried to predict the movements of those aggressors nearby, he wasn't giving them any reason to launch an assault. The pilots grip on Daniels arm remained, just in case an attack was coordinated against the slicer -- who Thumper doubted was really up to the challenge to evading anything; he was far too timid for situations like these, it seemed. His other hand continued to hover in the air, but was ready to be flung into action. Whether that be to his gun to simply in an attempt to ward off the thugs with his fists. Firstly though, Thumper needed to assess the situation properly; there was nothing more stupid than to act without due thought.

(( Can Mercury see if any of the men are armed? If so, what are they armed with? Is Mercury capable of preempting any of the thugs attacks through his Lorrdian abilities? ))

((All of them are armed with a variation of weaponry. Mostly ranging in the heavy blaster and blaster rifle categories, nothing military issue, but still equipment that can kill under the right conditions. With his Lorrdian abilities he can easily see their plan of attacking through their body language, but exactly what isn't revealed until they move and if they try swarming him he would be unable to prevent some of the blows from landing.))

The droid knew they were talking about her. Although she walked ahead of the men, she could easily pick up the specifics of their hushed conversation. Choosing not to intervene, she allowed it to continue, predicting the possible information gained from eavesdropping could be advantageous. Maris was always playing a role and it was good to get feedback and alter her charade accordingly. She was also interested to hear how Davies recounted their first meeting. The truth of the matter was stored within her data cores and the droid was curious, in an analytical capacity, of the deviations in their stories. While human memory was capable of storing vast amounts of data, it was a faulty storage medium and prone to corruption. She frowned briefly, attempting to calculate the mean time to failure for human memory.

Faster than the blink of an eye, current strings of thought and calculations were suspended and pushed to redundant data cores and cogitator constructs. Deadly processes were brought out of their state of silent awareness and given full control. Governor and limiter circuits released their grip of synthetic muscle bundles with the immediate threat of violence that bled from the shadows. The Devaronian had returned and he brought friends. Maris blinked and threat analysis protocols and algorithms streamed through her cerebral processors, calculating odds and percentages of survival, maximums and minimums were compounded within picoseconds and modelling algorithms had already computed countless scenarios.

"Leaving so soon, Lucky? I can't let you do that... there's still our unfinished business to deal with."

She looked impassive, blank, almost as if the gravity of the situation had yet to dawn upon her. The depreciated expression 'deer in headlights' could have been used. She didn't know how Lucky was with any degree of accuracy, but that data could be extrapolated. Daniel was Lucky. He was too. The processes resigned to the redundant architecture made a note of that. Daniel Davies didn't know how lucky he was. Not that the droid believed in luck. There was only probability and chance. But she understood the definition and how the organics used the word.

Maris' neck turned smoothly to regard Thumper and Daniel. The modelling probabilities calculated earlier showed that a frontal assault was not wise. It would have been different if she was alone, but she had others to worry about. The slicer was close to Mercury; that was good. Daniel was their target and they wouldn't risk firing on either of them. The Devaronian had unfinished business and that couldn't be concluded with a dead Daniel. A plan had already been assembled within what passed for her mind. Unfortunately, the squishies lacked the proper delivery mediums to explain what she was about to do in sufficient detail given the time and security constraints. In lieu of sophisticated communication protocols, the droid resorted to the next best thing.

She winked.

The wink was known to the droid as a negation symbol. However, the syntax was ambiguous. It could be used before, after, or even during the act. The number of different states made interpreting a wink somewhat difficult. Luckily for Maris, it was an organic gesture and they shouldn't have had any problem understanding it.

Snapping her head back to the Devaronian and his thugs, she let out a shill cry to the heavens and portrayed an expression of sheer terror. Triggered physical reactions helped to seal the deal. Tear ducts opened and moistened her face, cutting shallow trenches through the thin layer of dust that had gathered on her cheeks. Her hands shot out before her in a submissive sign of surrender.
"Please, don't hurt me!" the droid cried, altering the pitch and tempo of her voice, crackling out the words with ample fear. It was convincing and probably a little unnerving for a woman that barely raised her voice. "Please! Oh, god, please! I don't want... please! Just take him! Take them both! Just don't hurt me!"

It was convincing for a reason. The raw and fearful emotions were as real as the droid could recreate. Maris had recorded and analysed the vocal patterns of a woman she had extracted information from some time ago. Biometric breakdown correlated the vocals to the facial contortions, completing the terrified visage. Maris snapped around, seemingly unsteady on her feet and looked straight at Daniel and Thumper. Her eyes were red and appeared bloodshot, tears glistening in the darkness.
"I'm sorry." She whispered with a shake of her head in a tone just loud enough for her audience to hear. With a fleeting glance towards the Devaronian and his crew, Maris fled into an adjacent alleyway and disappeared into the shadows.

((Was Maris followed by any of the Devaronian's men into the alley? If so, can she take them out?))

((The Devaronian remains behind, but his two buddies follow her. Maris will be able to dispatch them easily. Soon after the two leave the larger party two other men arrive to support the Devaronian.))

"I'm not sure, this is our first mission together."

That was certainly news to him. He wasn't sure why he'd assumed otherwise, but it was probably due to the fact that he just figured most Confederates knew other Confederates. The probability of everyone knowing everyone in such a massive government was highly unlikely since the majority of military personnel probably didn't even deal with each other as much as they dealt with the enemy. Then again, if you wanted to judge by degrees of association, if one soldier knew another soldier and that soldier knew two other soldiers--and so on and so forth--then by a technicality, everyone would be aware of everyone else in an exponential fashion. But the slicer knew that that wasn't how the real world worked; it'd be more convenient and less full of lonely people if it was. In any event, it was still peculiar to Daniel that his two Confederate allies were just as much strangers to one another as he was to Mercury. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing, the unfamiliarity, but he didn't think it was a bad thing either.

". . . She's nice though, trust me there are much worse people in the Confederation."

Oh, he knew that better than most. The words triggered a small memory within his complex mind, pulling it from the dark recesses like dragging a file from the trash bin of a computer. The flash of recollection was mere minutes of his life while in prison, but it was enough to remind him of just how foul some Confederates were. Like a fragmented video file, it skipped and stuttered within his head, but the gist was there, enough for him to accurately remember some of the lesser horrors he'd experienced while in custody. Pain always provided a very vivid portrayal of events, and Daniel immediately regretted having thought about his prison persecutions at all. There was a reason that his brain had locked them away; it wasn't for safe keeping, but to protect him from having to live over those horrendous moments in his life. For someone like Daniel, he'd barely managed to survive his first and only stint within the confines of a cell. To do so again would kill him, he had no doubt. So to remember was out of the question, and back to the trash bin the memory went. If only he could empty it entirely, never have to look back.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly. He was, in fact, in agreement with Mercury, though. Maris was one of the nicer soldiers that he'd come across. She smiled a lot, which was nice, and she was also very kind to him, which was also nice. The pretty woman probably dealt with the scum of the Galaxy--people like him--all the time, yet she didn't seem to have been affected by it--like him. Civil, courteous, polite . . . these were all words that he'd have used to describe her. At the same time, though, he had to wonder just what she was capable of. Just because she looked harmless didn't mean she was; Daniel looked incapable of doing much other than twitching and generally being shifty but he was a genius in many senses of the word. Like they said, you couldn't judge a holonovel by its cover. But what he saw and what he knew of Maris so far, he liked. There wasn't anything bad he could really say about her except for the fact that she was working for the Confederation. It was a black mark to be sure, but Daniel was willing to overlook it at present.

"You probably know her better than I do. Where did you two first meet?"

He blinked, looking very much like an Eopie caught in the headlights of a coming speeder. "Where did we meet . . .? Oh, uh." It took him a few moments to recall, his memory being what it was. Luckily, Maris wasn't someone so easily forgotten compared to most people that the slicer dealt with. Usually he wanted to forget the nasty sentients who verbally and physically abused him. Such was not the case with Maris since she had been nothing but friendly to him back then. "On Coruscant. I mean, we met on Coruscant. I was fixing a system for a Confederation company. . . base . . . uh, place; I don't really remember exactly. Then we met again as I was heading off-planet. Coincidence, really. And we didn't really have much time to talk or anything . . . so, yeah. I don't really know her any better. Not really. Which is why I asked, because I was just . . . wondering . . . yeah." He allowed his sentence to trail off as his thoughts and attention was drawn to the shadows that seemed to melt from the walls into a trio of angry looking sentients. Oh, no.

"Leaving so soon, Lucky? I can't let you do that . . . there's still our unfinished business to deal with."

Fear was etched in Lucky's expression. That and maybe a little disbelief. Daniel couldn't believe that they were going through all this trouble just to get back at him for something he'd done years ago, something that he hadn't done with malice or malintent; just done it because he could. It felt as though he was being punished in such a way that didn't fit his crime. In fact, he'd gone to prison for a crime very similar to it. He'd done his time there. As far as he was concerned, he didn't deserve anymore punishment for anything ever again after all the horrible things that the Confederate prison had subjected him to. Unfortunately for him, it did not seem as though these past acquaintances shared this belief. No, they were obviously more concerned in pummeling him into a mushy little Daniel-shaped scrap. By the end, he'd look like he'd just gone through a meat-grinder, he wagered. The twitchy man shifted uncomfortably, his eyes glancing towards an escape route moments before a hand clapped against his arm, keeping him stationary. What in the--? But it was only Mercury who had seized him. The why was beyond him, but he didn't like it one bit. It made him feel trapped. And cornered animals hated feeling trapped.

"Oh. Hi guys," he stammered out, hoping that maybe he could talk himself out of this. In the meantime, he tried subtly yanking his arm from the Confederate's grasp. How was he going to run if he wasn't freed from Mercury? "No hard feelings about earlier, right? I mean, we're all adults here, right? We should be able to come to some sort of . . . agreement? Yeah? Look: what I did way back when was wrong, and I'm sorry that it caused you any trouble. But it's in the past, you know? Why don't we just let bygones be bygones and, uh . . .?" This was getting him nowhere fast seeing as the murderous expressions on the trio's faces were just growing dark for every word that he uttered. He was just making things worse, and so he promptly shut up, scooting behind Mercury a bit more as he struggled in vain to make the Confederate let go of his freaking arm. What kind of sadism was this? It was like being in a personal Hell, a little like being back in prison, trapped here with Confederates and criminals alike, and neither he was entirely sure was on his side. Except for Eloise, of course. But she didn't really count, especially since she'd bounded off at the first sign of trouble to hide behind some trash containers. Smart Gizka.

"Please, don't hurt me!"

Then, if things couldn't get worse, Maris suddenly developed a twitch in her eye, and then decided to betray them. Or him. He wasn't sure if Mercury wouldn't follow her example. They were teammates, after all.

"Please! Oh, god, please! I don't want... please! Just take him! Take them both! Just don't hurt me! I'm sorry."

Daniel looked as shocked as he felt, unable to hide the emotions inside of him. He was terrified. So much for Maris being some super secret Confederate agent capable of dispatching dozens of enemies at a time. Sure, his expectations had probably been a little high, but this was more than just disappointing. Maris' departure would drastically lower everyone's odds of survival. Now he was outnumbered, outgunned, and outmaneuvered. Maybe Mercury was really skilled with weapons, but even so, how was he going to take down three people without risking either of them getting shot first? If only he would let him go, then Daniel could make a run for it. No sense in all of them getting killed, right? Okay, that was cowardly, even for him, leaving the poor Confederate to deal with Daniel's problem. The slicer began to fumble in his bag for his hold-out blaster. This was fast-approaching a fight and he got the distinct feeling that he was going to need it.

"She left us!" Daniel said to Mercury, as if he hadn't been there and seen just what she'd done, as if he needed a verbal play-by-play. His whimpering voice was practically shaking with terror as his twitching returned to him tenfold. "I can't believe she--she just left us! What are we gonna do?!"

"Please, don't hurt me!"

Since the moment the Devaronian's voice had pierced the night air, Mercury had been predicting the run of events. The thugs would circle them, trying to cut off any kind of escape they had, and thus impose the advantage they had in numbers upon their victims. If nothing else, this should scare the three humanoids and hopefully make them more receptive to the hopelessness that was their situation. No doubt they hoped that both Maris and Mercury would hand over Daniel without any kind of struggle, and then they could have their way with the nervy little slicer without any interruption. They were playing by the rules of scoundrels and thieves, the rule of might is right, and intimidation. However, they knew nothing about the pair before them, both Confederate agents with defensive skills greater than the average hired goon you'd find on a planet like Tatooine. They hadn't done their research, and it would inevitably pay. That was what Thumper believed, but when Maris began panicking the Lorrdian was unable to restrain the shock and doubt that came with her reaction. It was only after a moment of consideration that the pilot believed this was just some ploy pulled by the woman, probably in an attempt to even the odds to some small degree.

"Please! Oh, god, please! I don't want... please! Just take him! Take them both! Just don't hurt me! I'm sorry."

It was risky, splitting up like this, but Mercury had no choice but to trust in his superior. Not only for that entire reason -- he was under her authority -- but also because, before the Lorrdian could voice any concerns, the mysterious Confederate made a run for one of the many alleyways parting from the main street. Before his eyes, the woman disappeared into the shadows of the buildings, and the pilot couldn't help but grow slightly nervous at the prospect of fighting off these thugs as well as preventing any harm coming to Daniel. Not only because he was a valuable asset in their mission, but also because Thumper had grown to like the man, even if his life choices were on the wrong side of the law in the past. He was trying to change, and the most important thing was the present and the future, not the past. Even had the slicer been detestable, it would have been hard for someone of Mercury's nature to leave him to the terrible fate that would result in keeping private company with these men. Daniel's slight physique seemed especially susceptible to damage, now that he thought about it. The slicer was certainly not built for the rough and tumble world of Tatooine.

Keeping close to his charge Mercury eyed the firepower the thugs around him possessed. Maris had managed to draw away a couple, but there were still two men circling like vultures around the pair, along with their Devaronian leader. Enough to pose a serious threat to Daniel's safety, regardless of the Confederate ready to stand in the way. Mercury had only his pistol, while these men carried heavy blasters and rifles like an advertisement to the inefficiency of the Illegal Arms branch of the Confederation. With some luck he might be able to take down one or two, but that still left a third. The trick would obviously be timing. Maris had left them to take out whoever followed her without the others knowing; that was the only logical stream of thought; Maris hadn't abandoned them, Merc was sure of that much. She was a Confederate, and one that the pilot had full faith in. They wouldn't pick someone who freaked out in situations like this. Maris had a plan, and no doubt it would be entirely successful, so long as Thumper didn't mess anything up for her. A mind link would be perfect right now . . .

"She left us!"

. . . Yes, a mind link would be very much perfect right now, not only between the two Confederates but also their startled friend. More than his own movements, Thumper was worried the fidgety slicer would do something to disrupt Maris's plan, and in a gunfight things like that usually led to injury or death. Mercury had unfortunately seen it too many times, rookies losing it in the heat of the moment and in their quest for survival only bring about their deaths. At the end of the day there was nothing that could prepare you for that moment when the extinguishing of your life could very well be imminent. You had to suppress that fight or flight urge and listen to orders, remain calm, think clearly and rationally, and as a result survive. It was all about tricking those instincts. Thumper was used to situations like these, perhaps worse when he found himself in the middle of a dogfight out in space. One minute you could be fine, bolts missing by inches, then the next you could find alarms flaring, the ship tearing apart from the intense pressures and then you were dead. A constant tension would consume you, but you couldn't allow that to make you freeze because that only upped the chances of death. It was a horrible circle to get trapped in, but at times like these you realised how lucky you actually were.

"I can't believe she--she just left us! What are we gonna do?!"

There was no way that Mercury could completely put the slicer at ease without giving away Maris's plan. It was important that they didn't catch onto the fact that Thumper didn't believe the agent would not be back. He had to act like he was just as shocked as they were. However, putting the act on too much would make them equally suspicious, so the pilot settled somewhere in the middle. Fixing a stare on the Devaronian his dark eyes only left the horned ringleader to watch for any incoming attacks by the others. The pilot needed to stall them until Maris finished getting rid of the two men following her and return, but exactly how was escaping the Lorrdian. Normally he was incredibly social, but this situation called for an entirely different sort of sociability. To keep up the act Thumper couldn't get too friendly, not without endangering Daniel. The two needed to stand together if they wanted to get through this alive, the problem was did the slicer understand that? Mercury could only hope, because otherwise things were going to get extremely difficult extremely fast.

"And what business do you have with him? I don't want to be standing in the way of a good cause, after all."

It would probably freak Daniel out some more, but to be honest his feelings weren't a priority currently. Thumper had shifted into work mode, and that was outlined by rigorous methods and well practised plans. Afterwards he'd apologise for putting Daniel through all this, and point out how it was for his own good in the end. This was a problem that had followed him, and they were going to get rip of it for him, so a little stress was a fair trade-off, in the Lorrdian's opinion. As far as he was concerned, they were doing him a favour and the only way they could successfully do this was their way, which was a way Daniel needed to learn soon if he was going to work with them. The slicer was smart though, from what Mercury could tell, and hopefully wouldn't act out of turn to the little act. However, from his reaction to Maris the pilot wasn't entirely confident in his slicer colleague.

(( How does the Devaronian reply? Do any of his mates make a move against either Mercury or Daniel? ))

((His goons remain at a distance, making no threatening motions yet, but they look ready to jerk their trigger fingers. The Devaronian gives another of his smiles, regarding Merc with a little bit of disdain.

"Private matters, you better keep out of it," he responds, the tone carrying a warning that the Devaronian will act if Merc gets in his way. The collected group are not afraid of them. Not yet, at least.))

Crouching on her haunches in the darkened alley, Maris waited. The synthetic muscle bundles were tight in anticipation, ready to pounce at the moment's notice. A good number of secondary systems and protocols had been temporary taken off line to focus purely on this moment. She had to be fast. Maris had take a calculated risk in separating from Daniel and Thumper. She did not question her skills, far from it; she knew exactly what she was capable of. A high percentile calculation expanded within her cerebral processors, Thumper could handle himself. It was their asset that Maris was concerned for. Daniel wasn't trained; he wasn't like them. She trusted Thumper to keep Daniel safe until her return.

Her prey approached. Heavy boots stomped through the sandy streets, displacing the sediment. The men slowed, blasters leveled and itchy fingers resting across the triggers. Hushed whispers passed between the pair. Neither knew where their quarry had gone and neither understood how the tables had turned. A powerful arm snapped from the darkness of the alley and took the closest by surprise. Fingers wrapped around the lower portion of his face, stifling a short yelp. With frightening ease, his boots lifted from the sand and his head cracked hard against the adobe wall. There was a moment of resistance before his head collapsed.

Withdrawing her hand from the mess of bone, the remaining goon leveled his blaster upon the assassin. She weaved within the confines of the alleyway, ducking under and getting uncomfortably close. Rising quickly with a flurry of motion, she broke his arm across his shoulder whilst simultaneously driving an open palm into his throat. The delicate digits closed like a vice, destroying his throat. A quick flick of her wrist snapped his neck. Releasing her hold, the thug fell to the sand.

The encounter had lasted 2.3421 seconds. The minimum time to escalation for Daniel and Thumper was 9.5329 seconds.

Stepping over the body without a second thought, she continued through the alley, following the confined back road around until it rejoined the main thoroughfare. Still within the safety of the darkness, Maris reached to the small of her back and drew her blaster. After quickly checking the power cell, she thumbed the safety. The pistol looked natural in her hand, like she had been born to wield it.

Rounding the corner silently, Maris emerged into the main street behind the devaronian and his remaining thugs. The journey through the alley had taken 6.4291 seconds. Turning, she walked towards them with pistol raised. Maris had already decided what she was going to do with them. She had decided nanoseconds after the devaronian had shown his horns. None of them would be compromising their mission by hounding Daniel. In fact, they would never hound the slicer again.

A set of firing solutions had been calculated the second Maris had set eyes upon them. She could see Thumper and Daniel standing unharmed. Thumper was talking; his words weren't important. With only the small indifferent smile upon her lips, Maris followed through on her firing solutions and recalculated for survivors.

((Is Maris able to kill all of the devaronian's men? If not, how many does Maris take down and does her distraction allow Merc (or Daniel) to finish the job?))

((She takes down the one closest to her with ease, the other guard reacts too quickly for her to reach him in time, but Merc or Daniel will be able to dispatch of him with the distraction she has provided. The Devaronian is slightly baffled, taken aback by the sudden turning of the tables.))

"And what business do you have with him? I don't want to be standing in the way of a good cause, after all."

Betrayed, betrayed, betrayed. His allies had turned traitorous in the span of a few seconds, and he now understood why Mercury refused to let go of him--he was leverage. The Confederate was going to use him as a sacrifice to save his own skin! Daniel should have seen it coming, he should have anticipated such a turn of events. He was smart. Why hadn't he seen this coming? He was also gullible. That explained it. Yes, he was too trusting. Only Eloise and Brin were real friends, friends who wouldn't have left him for dead. Maybe this entire thing was a trap! An act, a play, a facade--some sick and twisted game that was at the slicer's expense. The Confederates never wanted to utilise his skills, they just wanted to play with him a little before killing him! Sadistic monsters, the lot of them. Why had he ever thrown in his towel with them?! The convicted felon had known better than to deal with the very people whom had locked him up, locked him up and tortured him, locked him up and tortured him and . . . and . . .

It was like the flood gates were opened, unlocked by sheer terror. The panicked man's mind could not suppress all the horrendous memories that were normally kept in the dark recesses of his analytical mind. They flashed back to him as vividly as if he had never forgot them at all. One by one, every experience, every moment during his incarceration returned to him in a furious torrent of torturous images. And each image was accompanied by the sensations that had been wrought at the time. There was so much pain and fear, the trauma not having lessened over the years, only kept away from his conscious mind for his own sanity. But sanity had deserted him too, leaving the shattered pieces of a broken genius in its wake. Daniel remembered. All of it. Not just the tiny cell in which he'd been imprisoned within, or the bullying done by the other prisoners, but the experiments. Oh, god, the experiments!

He went downright limp against Mercury's hold, instead moving his hands to clutch his head. It felt as though someone were drilling a hole right into his brain and he couldn't do anything to stop them; it hurt, it hurt! Daniel could hear himself talking, saying something, but it was mere gibberish, or repeated pleas for leniency, barely audible beyond his chapped lips from which the murmurings passed. Shaking his head, he looked very much like he was having a psychotic break and maybe he was. The twitchy, fragile man felt as though he was losing his mind. Why couldn't he repress the memories any longer? They . . . they just wouldn't stop coming back to him. Those horrific moments in his life seemed intent on doing more than just haunting his subconscious, they were no longer content with plaguing his resting mind. Sleep had never been safe, but now it seemed as though the horror would continue on during his waking hours. No, no, no!

And then a shot rang out and Daniel half-hoped that it was aimed at him. Anything to stop the awful recollections. But there was no physical pain done to him and the shot served to shake him out of his self-induced pandemonium. Blinking his eyes and still trembling, he looked up just in time to see one of the Devaronian's friend's heads being blown away in a shower of red mist and bloodied chunks. The scene would have made Daniel sick if he was cognizant enough to realise what was happening, but instinct had kicked in due to the lack of mental logic. His mind had seemed to have abandoned him, but with Maris' surprise return brought with her a sense of survival. The remaining two opponents seemed just as amazed by her sudden arrival as Daniel was and both didn't seem to know what to do in the few seconds that passed between their buddy losing his head and consequently his life.

The incredible thing about life and death situations was that one's person tended to act with or without the consent of their mind. Daniel didn't even realise that he'd moved until he was plowing directly into the nearest adversary, the Devaronian's final backup. Mercury must have released his arm but he didn't remember that either. It was such a strange sensation as they went crashing to the ground; it felt as though Daniel's mind was detached from his body, as though he was watching himself tackle the man from a third person point of view. He didn't know what to do once he'd gotten the man on the ground though and he knew he probably looked as shocked as the man looking up at him did. Hopefully it'd provide the necessary distraction and allow Maris and Mercury to handle the Devaronian.

There wasn't enough time though to hope that they'd be able to dispatch the Devaronian and save Daniel from the predicament that he'd gotten himself into. One thing about slicers were that they were as unused to physical labour as they were to pain. He felt the man's fist connect with his jaw and it caused him to flinch backwards and then tumble sideways as the man threw him over in order to take back the position advantage. Another fist came at him and then another and Daniel could only raise his thin arms as a pathetic defense whilst the man attempted to beat him to a bloody pulp.

This day was easily turning out to be one of the worst ones ever.