“A, listen, they didn’t give me much of a choice, they came in right before you arrived and held out a sack full of credits and seven guns. They promised much but took even more, seemingly for fun… I’m an arm shy. And I don’t have to tell you what a disadvantage that is in my profession- anyway, I just wanted to warn you. They mean business. They’re coming for you.” ::blip:: “I knew there was something more to the story” The Aviatrix mumbled aloud, as she switched off the holographic message from the proprietor of Chip’s Bits. She was at the helm of her Velostar airship ripping across the cosmos. As the stars blurred outside her craft, our heroine contemplated her next move: “I could slow down and let them catch me, they wouldn’t expect that,” she thought “or I could get the upper hand and stop in the Plexus System where I have friends… do this on my terms.” She set an easy-to-follow course for the nearest planet in the Plexus System- Hydraxia.

The air was thick with smoke emitted from the dozens of brightly colored pipe bowls grasped in the hands of the many patrons of Une Pipe, a smokery and bar located on Hydraxia. But more importantly- it was owned by Cast McCall. Cast and The Aviatrix had met not too long ago when Cast had been, we’ll say, over-served, and gotten a shade belligerent with the wrong folks. Luckily help had been present in the form of The Aviatrix- a debt which Cast claims he’ll not soon be able to repay. She sat with her back to the door, as to appear vulnerable, but with a reflective surface in plain sight. “Is everything set?” She inquired to Cast without turning to face him. Cast was a tall man, unknown to many as the owner of the establishment, where he currently sat at the bar next to The Aviatrix. “Everything is as you requested- especially the bit secured under that very specific seat you just so happen to be at… Should I expect a remodeling bill?” “Well I won’t be the one to elevate the situation… that’s something you’ll have to take up with the Hell Rats, if they come.” No sooner had the words escaped her lips than the door was flung open and there stood a dozen Rats backlit by the neon glow emanating from the street.

The once noisy room went silent and several patrons moved to collect their belongings. An unmistakable metallic clang repeated in the air as the Rats’ Voltruvian metal armor plates clanged against one another as a result of their less then balletic steps. Four of them flanked out to the exterior of the room, six of them fanned into a line parallel to the bar top, one moved in front of them, and one hobbled to the lead- they were all armed. The Hell Rats had a reputation, but so did Cast McCall, and so did The Aviatrix. Without turning, The Aviatrix addressed the lead Rat: “I thought you’d be here sooner- maybe you’re not all the stories say you are.” The Rat hissed back: “No, we’re more. And you’d be good to keep that in mind, young lady.” “I don’t threaten,” she snapped back. Cast moved to interrupt the quickly mounting tension: “How about a drink for everyone? Calm our nerves- no reason for anything to get out of hand over bruised egos. Rock,” he called out for the bartender, “a round of…” his speech stuttered for just a moment as the face behind the bar was not the one Cast expected, but a familiar and trusted one nonetheless. “A round for all of us,” he continued after the almost imperceptible pause. The man behind the bar nodded and set out 15 glasses. “Thought I’d join you all… since there’s no one left in the place.” A fact he pointed out as he gave a nod around the room, who’s inhabitants had all vacated. He made a mess of pouring a pink liquid into each of the fifteen glasses, to which Cast gave a disapproving, but entertained glare  “What will we drink to?” The bartender asked. “To a mutually beneficial deal” the lead rat retorted, “just as soon as you all drink.” The Aviatrix looked to the bartender, and then to Cast. Cast gave the slightest of approving gestures and they three drank- The Aviatrix, Cast McCall, and the bartender, who was not Rock. They upturned their glasses on the bar, and with a smile the lead rat knocked back the pink liquid, as did the other eleven. “Now, what we came here for…” The rat cozied up to the Aviatrix and as she turned slightly away from his foul breath and unpleasant demeanor, she palmed the firearm Cast had secured under the bartop, but it soon became obvious its use would not be necessary. The rat’s right eye started to twitch. He let out a sharp cough. His eyes widened, his whole body lurched forward, and life left him. As it did the other eleven rats spread throughout the room. “Remy, for god’s sake did you have to kill them?!” Cast shot at the bartender as he looked around his establishment, now littered with the lifeless bodies of a dozen Hell Rats. “I take it you’re not the regular bartender- but I’m also curious as to why I’m not dead” The Aviatrix inquired. “No ma’am, I am not. And that particular toxin I added to our drinks doesn’t affect our species.” He retorted. The stranger hopped over the bar, settled a hat atop his head, and peered under it toward Cast: “And yes sir, I did. First of all because they’re garbage creatures. Solely in this universe to earn credits by any means  possible, no matter what they have to do or who they have to kill.” He turned toward The Aviatrix, and tipped his hat: “The name’s Remington Firth ma’am, and secondly, but more importantly, because I know exactly what they wanted from you.”