A Badge of Honor, a Badge of Shame

[Jiang Winters]

The news had come as a shock to Dalang.

Elena Markovich, the lovely 20-something daughter of Police Chief Jakob Markovich, had been shot in the heart. She'd been enjoying dinner with her boyfriend when a gunman in a speeder drove by, riddling her and her beloved with a volley of ballistic pistol fire.

Dalang had no love for her father. The man had railroaded him out of the Police Department and had condemned Dalang to the life of a simple thug in the undercity. His daughter was different, though. He remembered her clear as day; as sweet and innocent as they came, Elena had had a bright future. She was everything her father wasn't, and so much more. She didn't deserve to die, not so young.

Understandably, every precinct under Markovich's command was in an uproar. One of their own had been attacked and they were going after the culprit with a vengeance. The attack had occurred scarcely six hours ago and they were already mobilized - Dalang had to admire their swift, if predictable, response. They were analyzing the crime scene, searching for suspects and witnesses, and preparing to launch a full-bore manhunt to bring in their man.

He sighed as he walked out of the hospital, his tail swaying and both paws thrust into his pockets. His Ninety-Ten tugged at his belt, the weight of the powerful handgun a comfort to the former police officer. Dal caught a cab to Edaj Citcalag Megamart; more specifically, the mall in which the Megamart was housed. The mostly-abandoned mall served as apartment complexes to Citcalag's employees, Dalang included.

The feline arrived within half an hour. He'd intended to completely flee Coruscant, but with Jiang's daughter in the hospital, they wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. He figured that he might as well gather up what few things he'd left behind. The feline paid the cab pilot and hopped out onto the local spaceport's taxi pad, and began making his way through the crowded streets leading towards the nearby mall.

Little did he realize that the Police had already identified the handgun that had fired the killing shots, and that the handgun was his old service pistol. A bounty of nearly 40,000 credits had been placed on his head, and while only the most well-connected of hunters and criminals had heard of the bounty, it was only a matter of time until every hunter and their grandmother was chasing him. He was running out of time, and he didn't even know it.

 

[Surviver]

Allen ran and jumped across the stacks of cargo like he was being chased by the entire republic army. Narrowly avoiding collisions with crates and barely made landings made up the majority of the process. The lights for the cargo bay had been set to 5% of their average output so that the stacks of cargo became barely recognizable shapes in the dark. It was one of Allen’s training methods to keep him physically fit and at the top of his game. It was also one of the times he felt most alive.

It got his blood pumping and focused his mind on the simple purpose of reacting to the latest obstacle and sudden gaps. No job to do, no enemies to watch out for, and no people to deal with. Something felt wrong with that last part. He should be happy that there was no one to bug him with idealistic viewpoints about the universe or waiting to kill him when it benefitted them. There was this feeling in the back of his mind though, like he actually wanted to have other people in his presence. Not to talk to obviously, just the presence of another sentient creature somewhere nearby. Maybe it was because Catrina had recently left for her own travels. He’d spent ten years of his life with someone else always on his heels and now he was alone again. It was a silly feeling and would hopefully pass with time, but it couldn’t hurt to indulge in the presence of others while it still had a sense of enjoyment to it.

Ten more minutes of cargo hopping brought an end to his allocated half hour. A few light bruises, sweat, and a sense of fulfillment were his rewards. He travelled back to his room to clean up and change into his standard black outfit. He opened the door to find the knife still on his bed where he had dumped it. It was a gift from his latest client for a job well done. He went over and picked the thing up with a scowl. It was a knife that was specifically designed to disembowel the target. He gave it one more look of contempt and tossed it onto his dresser to dispose of later. He had no need for weapons designed for the purpose of inflicting the most pain. A kill should be as quick and painless as possible for the victim. There are exceptions to almost every rule, but it is a dark path when the exceptions start outnumbering the times the rule is followed.

A few minutes later, and feeling very refreshed, Allen moved to the bridge for the imminent landing. He trusted the modified droids to run the ship at least as well as a human crew, but he always felt better when he was sitting at the controls. The planet was already filling most of the view ahead of the freighter. He went through the process of negotiating a landing spot with the facilities needed to load and unload freighters. Thankfully his admin droid helped speed up the process. Within twenty minutes he would be on the ground and free to wander as the mood took him. He might even find a job worth taking somewhere along the way.

*******

He’d been on Coruscant for hours now. Things with the ship would be taken care of by now but that was no longer on his mind. After contacting some old clients he heard of an interesting job that hadn’t hit the public yet. A bounty wasn’t really his thing but this got him interested. The money would be nice but there seemed to be something more going on here.

Local records show the target as dead and whatever cover identity he took up was top of the line. Why would he blow all that to come back on the radar? If Xeron could collect the bounty that would be a nice bonus, but he was being driven by something else right now. Something felt wrong about this situation and he couldn’t get it out of his mind. If he was right about the situation being slanted then an innocent man was about to be the target of a manhunt. If he was wrong then there was 40,000 credits wandering around out there with his name on it.

Either way, he still needed to wait for his contacts to get back to him about the cover identity. No matter how good, someone always knew something. The problem was finding that someone. His datapad warned him of an incoming message and the ghost of a smirk could be seen for a brief second. He had his target and luck was on his side. Someone had been able to track down a residence as well and it was relatively close. Xeron would be there in a matter of minutes.

 

[Redfield]

Some people would think Malax was a weird man, but he loved the idea of being part of his environement, observing and getting to know everybody around him. Sometimes, he spent hours meditating just to follow what happened at the nearest fast food stand. There were so many people in this gigantic city, and he felt the urge to see each one's face and to know a little of his or her every day life.

It just so happened that one day he bumped into this really, really cute girl. He said hi and had a few minutes of small talk with her, but she was intelligent enough to not talk to strangers. And Malax didn't really look like a trustable Jedi Padawan. He had normal clothes on, like he usually did when walking around in public.

However, just a short talk wasn't enough for him. Malax didn't like the idea of being a stalker, but this young woman had something irresistable about her. He decided to follow her, telling himself he was going in her direction anyway. He didn't really have a direction though. He was free for the day and motivated to get to know the city a bit more as well as some of its inhabitants. Besides, there was hardly anything more attractive to follow than her backside.

He followed her around for the rest of the day, observed her from a cafe, a bar, bought a newspaper. He had no bad intentions. As soon as it was dark he would get back to the Order. No doubt his new Master would have some ridiculous task for him. Well, this was good enough training in stealth and reconnaisance, no? He wasn't really observing her by the end anymore. He was thinking about his own life, comparing it with hers.

Then, right before he was about to leave, he witnessed it. The figure shot them with countless rounds, her and the guy she was eating a meal with. Malax, in shock, cursed. He had been observing her the entire day, and now in this moment where he wasn't focusing on her and what happened around her, some idiot murders her? He couldn't believe it. He looked down and try to see her killer, but it was getting dark, and the remaining light did not make it easy. Besides, the speeder was gone as quickly as it had shown up. Malax thought of the situation, and quickly came to the conclusion that it would be impossible to catch up, as much as it would be stupid to remain at the scene. Who would believe a young man, a Jedi Padawan who stalked the girl, observed her for no reason. No, he did not want to get the Order into this. He was in enough trouble anyway, and he didn't need the Masters to know what weird things he was doing in his free time. In fact, he didn't even want them to know he had spare time on his hands.

He made away and found a quiet spot to go into himself and meditate. She was the police department's chief's daughter, he found out that much while observing her. He went on to figure out more about this case. It did not last long for the police to get active, and he followed their steps. Malax did not know why, he felt obliged to do so. He could not just walk away and forget about what he had seen. Maybe he would be able to help without the world knowing about it.

 

[Jiang Winters]

The trip to the mall was wholly uneventful, save for the usual hustle and bustle of the crowded streets. Dalang was relieved to get inside the structure. With its sole inhabitants consisting of the megamart's employees and a handful of deranged cleaning robots, the mall was as quiet as they came and provided a pleasant change in pace when contrasted to the streets outside.

Once inside, he made a beeline straight for his residence. It wasn't listed on any official records, but a handful of his own contacts -and, by extension, a number of local criminal organizations- knew of the place. The deception was necessary after the incident with Mr. Jadeonar, in which some shadow organization took the place of a Republic Security Force patrol and took Dalang, Jadeonar, and some man named 'White Knight' into custody, only to free Knight, murder Jadeonar, and then cover it all up by faking the death of all three through the use of a 'shuttle accident'. Assigned the alias of Dal Renshu, Dalang had been expected to keep quiet about the entire thing.

Truth be told, he'd never been terribly keen on keeping that identity intact. He preferred being Dalang Cheng Winters, not some random nobody spawned from the pen of a spook sitting in a dusty corner office.

It didn't take him long to navigate his way to the mall's second story. The store that he'd converted into his home was located there; he reached into his back pocket for his keycard, only for his fingers to find nothing. "Shiong mao niao!" he swore, his lips pulling back in an irritated snarl. "I'm not going all the way back to Ji's ship to get that damned keycard," he grumbled.

A brief examination of the door revealed that it wasn't particularly sturdy, being thin plasteel in construction and set into a flimsy wooden frame. Dalang faced his shoulder towards the door and crudely rammed it; his sheer mass caused the door to buckle under the assault and shear off its hinges. It clattered to the ground and he stumbled inside, thoughtfully rubbing his shoulder. "I'd forgotten how much that hurt."

He snapped up his plate carrier off the couch and slipped it on, cinching it down tight to his torso while still leaving himself enough room to breath normally. He rolled his shoulders and torso around as he readjusted himself to the weight of the armor. Next came a heavy black rucksack, loaded with all the tools of his various trades - door breaching kits, lockpicks, ammunition, uniforms, armor, knee and elbow pads, tools; 70 pounds of raw weight.

The tiger then went for his last remaining piece of kit: an M52 assault rifle. He clipped its butt-mounted lanyard to the right shoulder of his vest, then let it hang down along his side. After stuffing his vest with loaded magazines from his gun locker, the feline's apartment was finally empty - he had nothing left that he wanted. His shotgun, light machine gun, and most of his personal belongings and gizmos were already aboard the ship. All that was left was now carried on his person.

Pulling on his usual CSX ballcap, the Kasa Horansi padded out of his apartment, taking care to step over the shattered door. "...Eh, it'll come out of my deposit. I hope."

 

[Surviver]

Xeron reached his destination with no problems. Anyone following him would have had problems given the pace he set and the fact that he would seemingly disappear as he unconsciously slipped into the shadows he moved through. He quickly moved to the second floor of the scarcely populated mall.
On his way to the residence he stepped over a small cleaning droid that was continuously trying to clean up an oil trail that it left behind it as it moved. His plan was to wait and see if the target came home. He arrived just as a hulking creature wearing full body armor stepped over a broken door. Either this was the target or someone had beaten him to the punch. Well, no point in trying to be subtle about it. He took up a neutral stance and asked, “So, are you Dalang Winters, Dal Renshu, or one of the bounty hunters after him?”

 

[Redfield]

Malax followed the immediate police responce as well as the overall investigations very closely. There was a lot to be found in old newspapers and other similar archives about the police chief as well as his family. It did very much prove that it had disadvantages to being important.

When the police produced their suspect, every instinct in the young Jedi ran alarm. There was just too much fishy about it. He knew that many people did stupid things, but this was ridiculous. Also, the speeder, as well as the shape and figure of the shooter. Even if Malax had not observed the criminal for a long time, he could still make out that the person they were looking for was definately somebody else.

What to do?

Some police officers had already seen him walk around their perimeters, but it wasn't something too unusual or unallowed for a jedi. He decided to work on the police's side of the investigation for now, since he didn't like the idea of finding the suspect along with a couple bounty hunters or overly motivated policemen. That would involve too much explanation. Besides, he still wasn't willing to say he was a witness. No, instead he would work annonymously.

One thing he saw clearly was that cruiser. He printed out a picture of the model and wrote a small note to it, with very ugly and therefore unrecognisable handwriting.
"Da murda's transport"
He made sure nobody saw him when he slipped the note to the investigating detectives at the department. Then he went on his way to the public library. A police chief had far too many enemies, but maybe he would find something dark about his daughter.

 

[Jiang Winters]

Dalang's brow furrowed as a man addressed him. A human, to be more precise; the fellow was tall but thin. He looked more nimble than rugged. His ears perked attentively as the man spoke, only to flatten in alarm a moment later. "Bounty hunters?" he repeated. Genuine surprise registered in his voice, and the feline's gun hand instantly went to his assault rifle's grip, his forefinger extended along the side of the trigger guard. He'd dealt with bounty hunters plenty of times during his stint in the force and in his private work after he lost his badge. They were, by and large, dangerous and dirty individuals who resorted to violence at the drop of a hat and switched allegiances as fast as credits changed hands. If such people were after him, then he was going to be on edge for a good long while.

The Kasa Horansi shook his head after a moment. "No, I'm not a bounty hunter. Just a friend of Dal's. I stopped in to see if he was home, but his door was kicked in. Maybe those hunters you mentioned already got to him," he suggested with a hitch of his shoulders.

He tucked his rifle's butt into his shoulder and grasped the forward pistol grip with his free hand. Dal crossed the weapon over his chest, which placed the rifle in a semi-ready position from which it could be brought to bear on any aggressive bounty hunters who might present themselves. Usually, Dalang didn't resort to force of arms, but until he knew who or what was after him and why, he felt that he needed to defend himself by force.

"If there is a bounty on Dal's head, mind telling me what it's for? I ought to give him a call and warn him. If it's a legitimate crime he's commited, it'd probably be wise of him to just turn himself in and let the proper authorities care for him. It'd be a hell of a lot safer than letting some gorramed bounty hunter take him in."

--==--

Meanwhile, the police were dead-set on pursuing Dalang. Though they'd been given an image of the murderer's transport, they still focused on finding their suspect himself. There were millions of speeders on Coruscant, if not billions; in the time it'd take to find a single speeder, they could have brought Dalang in ten times over. With a bounty on Mr. Winter's head and a horde of Hunters chasing after him, it was only a matter of time until the cat was brought in, at which point the victim's father wholly intended to see the cat suffer a tragic 'accident' while in his custody... An accident that, if he had his way, would take at least a day to run its course.

 

[Surviver]

Allen’s attention was immediately drawn to the movement for the gun. It didn’t look like he planned to use it on him but it would be careless to cross the possibility off the list. He made sure that his arms stayed in a position that showed he wasn’t reaching for a weapon or trying to be a threat. If it became necessary he could still flick his daggers out but whether he could do anything before that rifle came to bear was anyone’s guess.

As for the “friend” statement, that was fairly see-through but it was still marginally possible that it was the truth. If that is how he wanted to play it, then Allen would go along with it for now. “I see. As for turning himself in, I think it would be a death sentence for your friend to do that. He would undoubtedly be found in his cell with a rope around his neck or some other tragedy that is unfortunate and in no way the fault of the police. Seeing as the reason he has a 40,000 credit bounty on his head is the police believe him to be the one that killed the Police Chief’s daughter, Elena Markovich.” Allen played close attention to his reaction and added a quick question. “Do you believe that your friend could have done such a thing?”

 

[Jiang Winters]

"What!?

Dalang's jaw went slack as he processed the news. He was wanted for murdering Elena? He could scarcely believe it! He'd known her ever since he joined the Force; while he hadn't known her well, he'd always been kind to her and she'd always shown kindness to him. Anyone with so much as a shred of an understanding of Dalang's relationship with Elena would know that he'd never wish harm on the girl.

He moved his hand away from the rifle's forward grip and lifted his hat, rubbing his forehead with the back of that same hand. "Shun-SHENG duh gao-WAHN! That son of a bitch Markovich must've placed the bounty. Guy's had it out for Dal for years. Guess railroading the poor guy out of the Police wasn't good enough for our wonderful Police Chief. Almost makes sense that Dal's the first one he'd pick as a target," he muttered, before shaking his head slowly and replacing his cap on his furry head.

After taking a few moments to collect himself and calm himself down, he answered the man's question. "Look, there's just no way Dalang did this. He's been with his brothers the last few months. Sonam's been in the hospital, and Dal was just reunited with his big brother, Jiang, and Ji's daughter, Naomi. Dalang's been spending all his time with them. Timing issues aside, it's just not who Dal is. He's a cop, through and through; there's no way he'd ever hurt anyone who didn't deserve it, and Elena didn't deserve it. He thought she was a great kid, and he was always wishing her the best. Whoever did this wasn't Dal, I'll guarantee you that."

 

[Surviver]

While Allen might not be the best judge of people, he had picked up some skill at observation through his work. The reaction at receiving the news seemed to show genuine surprise and shock. If this was Dalang then he seemed to have no idea about the events that got a bounty on him. This reinforced Allen’s belief that the police had gone in the wrong direction with their investigation, which is not that uncommon in his experience. The statement about the chief having a personal grudge against Dalang just solidified that belief. After all, someone having it out for others in the same line of work was the most common job he came across.

Running on the assumption that this is all true then an innocent man is the target of a manhunt organized by a corrupt police chief. He sought this out based on a feeling and because he thought it might be interesting. Now he couldn’t ignore the situation even if he wanted to. The thing to do would be to track down the real culprit and enough evidence to make sure his guilt can’t be ignored, then find a reasonably straight cop to turn it all over to. The only real problem now was rule 4.

“So, how do you feel about tracking down the real culprit and clearing your friends name then? I would be willing to lend my services to your cause for ten credits an hour plus expenses and any valuables we find on the murderer that don’t qualify as evidence. Retaining my services would also provide you with quick access to a ship should we fail and have to get your friend off world.”

 

[Redfield]

Malax actually enjoyed investigating in the matter. Probably too much, which was why he was constantly drifting off the core of the matter. He wasn't really making any mentionable progress, but more and more he discovered that the police were blinded with ....well, hate. He had already thought of somebody from the dark side of the Force being behind this. But that would go much too far assuming that.

The police chief held a grudge against the suspect, and that was clouding his judgement. The young Jedi was disgusted with the lack of patience and competent thinking among the police ranks. Malax had found tons of clues that lead away from the current wanted suspect, but no real solid evidence. He doubted the police would listen to him simply because he said that he felt something wrong, even as a Jedi. The doubt was even bigger that the majority of policemen would consider tough investigations rather than just arresting their current suspect.

Malax had no problem with this so far. The problem here was that seemingly the entire police department had no objections to the chief's plan of letting the suspect have a tragic accident before arriving in public custody.

His next step would be finding a policeman who actually honestly wanted to solve this case the right way. He went about observing them one by one. Leaning out an ear for rumors and such.

There had to be at least one good member of the police who would listen to him and follow his clues, or even help him free the unrightiously held suspect. And if there was just one such good man, Malax would find him before the day was at its end.

And even if he failed, at least he had gotten a first impression of the local police force.

 

[Silkboat]

Meanwhile at the spaceport, it was a typical day for Alicia. She was going around the ship, making sure that everything was ready for takeoff. She didn't want a repeat of last Tuesday. That was a real pain. Just... stuff everywhere. You have no idea.

She opened the door to Elise's room, the door creaking a little bit; she made a mental note to oil the hinges later. "Hey El, get your stuff ready for- huh?" Before she knew what was going on, Elise had grabbed her by the arm, dragged her over to the computer in the corner, and sat her down in the chair.

"What's this?" she asked as she read over what was displayed on the screen. "Something I snatched off the network from a few bounty hunters," Elise replied. "It's a pretty big bounty, but... I started doing some looking around in a few databases, and it seems really fishy."

"Well, okay, but what are we supposed to do about-" Alicia was interrupted by the sound of her sister loading a capacitor into her rifle. "Oh, no. No no no. We are not going to go running all over Coruscant looking for this guy."

Elise chuckled. "We don't have to. I found a residence registered to him around..." she brought up a map on the computer and pointed to a group of buildings. "Here." Alicia stared at the map for a moment. It wasn't actually that far from the spaceport they landed at, and it probably wouldn't take more than a few hours to investigate.

After a few moments of silence, she let out a defeated sigh. "All right, I'll go get my gear."

 

[Jiang Winters]

"...I don't exactly have much in the way of money," Dalang replied. The feline's tail flicked apprehensively and his ears lowered. The man before him seemed to have a very mercenary spirit; Dalang was worried that the fellow would try to turn him in if he refused to pay up. Of course, he could lead him right into a police trap if he did pay. "So this is how it's gonna be, huh fate? I go left, I go right; it doesn't matter, the end result is the same," he mused silently.

"Guess it couldn't hurt to have the help. Sure, I'll agree to your terms, at least for the next day or so," the Kasa Horansi stated somewhat reluctantly. "We'll have to start in the underworld. We can't go to the police - Dal and I are the same species, and I'm not about to get arrested because humans can't tell one cat from another. Maybe if we can pull together some information about the girl, we can find out if a hit was ordered on her or if someone was trying to get back at her old man."

The cat began to pad away from his apartment. "We can figure out exactly where to go later - for now, we'd be smart to get out of this mall. If you were able to find Dal's place, then it's only a matter of time until more bounty hunters show, or worse, the police themselves."

--==--

As fate would have it, Malax wouldn't be so lucky as to find a single upright cop in the entire precinct. Markovich's men were as corrupt and twisted as they came, and those who weren't corrupt were blindly obedient or naive. The few decent officers in his precinct had been efficiently purged through a series of false allegations, transfers, and other underhanded means. They, like Dalang, were now scattered and incapable of defending themselves against Markovich.

Because of this, most of the officers wanted nothing more than to put Dalang's head on a pike, close the investigation, and call it 'good'. It took almost no effort, and they knew it would please their chief to no end because of his hatred for Dal. The few who wanted to close the investigation still wanted to bury Dalang, if only because it'd make their chief happy. With not a single officer willing to question each other's work or the Chief's opinion, the entire department was chasing blindly after one feline without so much as a hint of an investigation into their other suspects.

It'd seem that, if Malax truly wanted to stop the Chief's madness and ensure that the investigation was handled appropriately, he'd need to try to gather enough evidence to bring down Markovich - something that would inevitably lead him to an encounter with a certain tiger and his allies.

 

[Silkboat]

"So this is the place, huh?" Alicia couldn't help but be disappointed as she pushed open the the doors to the mall. The place seemed to be almost entirely empty save for a few cleaning robots, one of which came too close to Alicia for comfort, and had to be driven away with a few kicks to its frame.

"This is the place," Elise echoed behind her. "There's no official records of him being here, but I cracked the networks of a few criminal organizations operating in the area and-" Suddenly she was cut off by the sound of Alicia's armored palm hitting her own forehead. "I can't believe that you- didn't you learn anything from the last time you did that?!"

"Of course I did!" El shot back. "I was really careful; they probably didn't even notice that I got in." Her older sister glared at her and grumbled, "That's what you said last time, and you remember what happened then."

"How was I supposed to know they'd trace my connection back to the ship? And come on, it's not like you'd be any better at covering your tracks!"

"Three days!" Alicia shouted. "It took me three days to clean up all of the bloodstains around the ship after last time! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get blood out of a control panel?!"

"I think I do, since you were bitching about it to me the whole freaking time!" Elise shouted back. "You probably spent more time in my room bitching about cleaning cables than you spent actually cleaning them!"

The person they were looking for completely forgotten for the moment, the two continued into a very loud and pointless argument.

Ah, sisterly love.

 

[Surviver]

With an agreement to Allen’s terms it was now an official job. He would use all his skills and resources to reach the completion of the job. “I have a few well-placed contacts in the underworld so it shouldn’t be impossible to find out whether a hit was put out or not. As for leaving quickly, I agree. I found you through my contacts and I know for a fact that they will try to sell that information after a respectable waiting period.” He thought for a second, “That would be around five minutes for the ones I used. We’re lucky in that respect, they are considered fairly honorable for the business.”

Xeron took up a position a few steps behind Dalang. It was a respectful distance to follow at and thanks to the cats bulk it gave Xeron a chance to disappear into the shadows before someone could spot him from the front. He already had an idea of where to go after they left the mall. “I have a safe house in the city that we can use. It isn’t in the best neighborhood or very big, but it is off the radar. It’s under an alias that I know hasn’t been cracked yet. So even if the police can somehow tie me to you they won’t be able to track down the safe house for a while.”

Allen was feeling weird. Helping people wasn’t a new thing for him. He couldn’t help it usually; it was just something he had to do to keep himself from feeling like crap the next day. He’d come to believe it was somehow related to his job, maybe some kind of karma thing or whatever. That by helping out people in need he somehow made up for killing or inconveniencing some of his targets. Not that they didn’t deserve it in most cases but it still needed balancing. The problem was he felt it was ultimately pointless. That no matter what he did things would not get better and the ones making things worse would ultimately win. It didn’t do wonders for his personality.

Ever since Catrina left on her mission to make the universe a better place, Allen had been feeling off though. He’d actually been lonely after she’d left and was even starting to feel like it wasn’t all so pointless. If there were others like Catrina out there then maybe the universe wasn’t as bad off as he’d thought. All those thoughts and feelings had culminated in Allen seeking out someone in need and offering to help. Sure he’d asked for payment for that help but no one could honestly expect him to work without pay. It all boiled down to the simple fact that Allen was changing. He was become more friendly and open. It wasn’t very friendly or open, but what could you expect from a man that dealt with backstabbers for a living. After this job was done he would have to take a serious look at himself and find out what he wanted out of life.

 

[Redfield]

Redfield could not believe that he didn't find a single honorable soul amongst the police. However, he did not give up that easily. He promised himself to search until the end of the day, and that he did.

After that, he would decide to search for answers on the other side of society's scope. He would try to find out more about the killer instead of the long arm of "justice" chasing him.

Malax would not be investigating the underground right away though, still being busy with futile downtown research on the matter. The others were going to have a head start, but since they were looking for the same answers, he would run into them sooner or later.

 

[Jiang Winters]

Dalang scarcely had time to acknowledge his new 'friend's' words when the relative stillness of the Mall was abruptly shattered. The thumping roar of a gunshot echoed through the structure. The feline instantly tensed and instinctively crouched as he shouldered his weapon. A drunken voice called out, "We know you're in here, kitty kitty! C-c'mon out and play! Heereee kitteh kitteh!"

The feline's ears flattened. The noise was coming from the Mall's lower floor; he peeked over the railing and looked down, near the fountain at the very center of the mall. Sure enough, a gaggle of spacers and half-witted bounty hunters were gathered around, wielding a motley assortment of weapons ranging from spiked clubs to shotguns. Dal frowned and shook his head. "Great," he muttered, "Space rednecks."

He crouched and looked to Allen. "They're just clustered down there, but the only exits off this story lead to the ground floor. We gotta get 'em to fan out so that we can slip out. Any thoughts?" he queried. Since he had help, Dal figured he might as well make the most of it!

 

[Surviver]

Allen glanced over the railing as well. The way they were clustered gave him an idea that he quickly discounted. One well-placed grenade would probably take out most of them and send the rest running. The problem was that it was highly destructive and he probably wouldn’t consider it if it wasn’t a bunch of bounty hunters down there. He didn’t have a high opinion of bounty hunters.

In his experience bounty hunters have very little in the way of rules. They are willing to take any job as long as someone is willing to pay for it. While that is similar to Allen’s business, he at least has lines he won’t cross. An assassin will kill you, but a bounty hunter may take you alive and there is a good chance you could end up in slavery or a torture chamber afterwards. While he’d decided against the explosive solution, Xeron wouldn’t mind if they had to cut a few throats on the way out.

He thought of a more peaceful answer to their problem that relied on the apparent idiocy being displayed by the hunters. He quickly moved back towards the apartment and return with the little cleaning droid he’d stepped over earlier. He pried off the cover and hooked in his datapad to access the malls cleaning network. It was old and in horrible condition but he was able to access the main cleaning protocol for all the droids. It didn’t take him long to make a simple change to the outdated software. The main protocol that was being transmitted to all the droids in the facility was no longer to clean. It was to stay out of sight and create as much noise as possible. As an afterthought he hit a few buttons and held out the datapad. “Make some kind of cat noise.” Any capable droid would repeat the recorded sound along with the other sounds as long as it was out of sight.

 

[Silkboat]

Their argument interrupted by a sudden gunshot, Alicia and Elise turned to see what was causing the commotion. "Are those...?" Elise began. "Yeah," her sister answered with a groan. "Bounty hicks."

"So, what do we do about them? Should we just..." she reached for the rifle slung over her shoulder, but Alicia shook her head. "Nah. Not worth the ammo. Might be best to just wait a while, see if they get bored and leave."

And so they did exactly that. Sitting against the wall near the doors they had come in through, the two waited and hoped that the bounty hicks' attention spans were as short as their reputation implied.

 

[Jiang Winters]

Allen's distraction worked, albeit far from flawlessly. The incredibly simple-minded bounty hunters began flinging obscenities and random bits of refuses at every spot where they heard a cat, and soon became thoroughly convinced that their bounty was teleporting around them. They panicked, and within moments their flung obscenities were joined by hails of buckshot and blaster bolts. The din of gunfire filled the air, joining the shattering of glass, the ripping of wood, and the screams of onlookers in a single confusing symphony of destruction.

Up on the balcony, Dalang hid his face in his palm and shook his head. He couldn't believe that something as simple as a distraction had ended up provoking the bounty hunters into shooting everything that meowed. "These guys really were behind the door when the brains were handed out," he muttered. The feline produced a pair of 'smart' earplugs and stuffed them into his fuzzy ears - they'd dampen the sound of gunfire, but would still allow normal conversation through. Then, without any explanation whatsoever, he popped up above the balcony and aimed his rifle at the biggest, ugliest, smelliest-looking redneck he saw.

He squeezed the trigger twice. The rifle thumped and sent two incendiary tracer rounds screaming down into the man's chest. A plume of red mist exploded from his back as the rounds exited his pudgy torso, while the hydrostatic shock of the bullets' impact sent ripples cascading through his rolls of fat. He squealed, toppled over, and miserably flopped about. Dal switched targets, popping off another two rounds at a slightly less pudgy but equally foul hick. "Like shooting fish in a barrel, pal; open up on 'em before they figure out where we're shooting from!" he barked to Allen. If they kept the pressure on, then there was a chance that they could wipe out enough of the rednecks to convince the rest to flee before they too perished.