Justice never wavers
It is my single purpose
Relentless the pursuit
I will find you where you hide
Counting on your indecision
Deciding when to strike
Calculating movement
The senses of the chase

– VNV Nation / Retaliate

She checked her internal chrono again. The fifth time in the thirty seconds. The waiting started to irritate her. Bloody fuckers, someone should teach them proper punctuality. she thought, while unconsciously cycling cycling through her pistol’s ammunition reservoir. Even though she hadn’t intended to do this, it still brought a smile to her face. Enough matter for three-hundred shots of APDS or one-hundred flechette bursts. You just have to love Outremer technology.

Before she had the chance to tinker around with any other settings, the door she had been watching finally opened and vomited out two persons into the street. “Vomited”, because for a short time they were silhouetted by a bright light and surrounded by harsh, loud music. This only lasted for a few heartbeats until the door closed again.

During the few heartbeats that this lasted, her SAI had scanned and processed the faces of the two people now out on the street. Both were now framed in red rectangles. One flashing, the other muted. With a fierce grin, she stepped out of her hiding place and fluidly, and oh so calmly, put a bullet through the forehead of the one person framed by the muted red rectangle. She allowed herself the small pleasure of synchronizing the shot with the muffled beats from the establishment behind the two marked ones.

The other one had just enough time to reach for his own weapon before her pistol was firmly pressed to his temple and a sharp edged knife drew a small rivulet of blood from his neck, when she placed it there with vicious speed.

“Do. Not. Even. Think. About. It.”, she hissed into his ear. His eyes widened.
“Vi…”, before he could finish whatever he wanted to say, she thrust her knee into his groin, putting all her augmented strength behind it. He went down, vomiting and quickly falling unconscious.

“You slimy piece of shit. I will add this pair of boots to your crime-sheet.”, she spat out while looking down at him. Releasing the tension of the last few hours in a loud puff of air, she shook her head and opened a commline to her ship and sub-vocalized a short message: “I have two parcels to handle, one destined for cold storage, one for the locker. Acknowledge.” The answering click-click arrived mere seconds later, making her frown. She opened the line again. “Syl, I swear, if you are risking my ship, I will hurt you!” This time, the answer wasn’t a click on the commline. Instead, the area around her was illuminated in harsh, blinding light.

“Me, risking your precious Cœur-de-Lys? I’m not stupid, Vicky.” The grin in the other woman’s voice was hard to ignore. “But I thought that you’d perhaps need some clair support. Seeing as ‘risky’ is a more apt descriptor of your oh-em, y’know? So I brought the Mule.”

The Mule was a small, brutish, hauler craft. It was heavily armoured, heavily armed and very fast. At the same time, it was almost impossible to maneuver it in any way that could be described as ‘graceful’. And right now, it was circling around the gothic spires of Sigmus City, most probably giving some civilian flight controller a rage induced, apoplexy.

“It’s VICTORIA, Syl. Victoria. Not Vickie. You know that I hate that nickname.”, Victoria sighed into her mic, while tying up her still-alive prisoner. With a hint of desperation in her voice, she continues. “I put up with your other contractions all the damn time, so please… At least grace me with my proper name?”

With a loud crash, a cargo-container affixed to the the Mule by a thick strand of nanocables hit the street a few meters away from Victoria, just as she had finished her last sentence.

“Y’know that it’s hard for me. That stupid memus…”, Sly stopped herself. Took a deep breath. “Meme. Virus. The meme virus is being a bitch and refuses to clean out o’my system.”

Victoria huffed as she hauled the two bodies into the cotainer. Not with effort, thought. This was a huff of indignation. “Please!”, she snorted while looking up at the Mule, closing the container and punching it twice. “Yeah, you hate it when it forces you to say stuff like “clair support”, but you were calling me ‘Vicky’ waaaay before we met those prankster-psychos.”

With a snap, the nanocables went tight and the container was lifted up into the Mule’s open cargo compartment.

“Mh. Might be. Might’nt be. I plead innocence!”, Sly shouted, with a smile. A few moments later she sobered somewhat and continued, “I’ll meet you back at the spaceport. Don’t dawdle. …Vicky.”. With a laugh, she cut the connection and proceeded to turn the Mule into the right direction.

Victoria watched her friend fly away with tonight’s work.
Amateurs. I am working with a bunch of crazed amateurs.
She turned towards the city’s main streets and started walking towards the nearest Taxi-stand. And a smile grew on her face.
But they are my crazed amateurs.


Outremer, n.

1. The area to the galactic “north” as seen from the Sol System which hosts the mysterious ‘Communality’.

2. (former usage) Unexplored Space

3. (archaic) An area beyond the sea


“The Communality”

A collection of humans and four alien races that was discovered one-hundred-and-seventy years ago.
How those humans reached the stars before the rest of humanity remains a secret.

The aliens of the Communality still remain the only sapient life humanity has encountered.

Cultural, political, technological and economical contact and exchange between current human space and the Communality is heavily restricted and guarded by the Communality itself. The humans residing in it present the diplomatic point-of-contact to humanity and refuse to side with or support any of the current factions.