Blades and Kurt: Mission One

[RobbyL9]

Sticks looked at Kurt sternly. He didn't enjoy having people mock his name, it was just so much easier to do than Blades and none of the people who ever did were smart enough to fully appreciate the meaning of his nickname. Nevertheless, Sticks agreed wholeheartedly with Kurt. He hadn't become a mercenary to help perpetuate slavery and he couldn't believe that Blades ever would. Sticks looked over at his partner and said as seriously as he could "He's right Blades, stow that pistol and stand down. We confiscate inanimate property only."

Blades couldn't believe his ears. How could his own friend betray him like this after all they had been through? Didn't Sticks say he swore an oath to stick by his brother-in-arms to the end? That he would never abandon him or leave him hanging? Blades' veins rushed rapidly and burned as though filled with toxic amounts of acid. This was betrayal, high treason!

Blades tightened his grip around the pistol in his hand in anger. He was so mad and squeezing so hard that his hand visibly shook from the pressure. He growled under his breath as he looked at the family of slaves and saw only what was being denied him. "Very well." he growled in a whisper, finishing silently If I can't have them, then you won't.

His hand kept tensing around the pistol as he refused to stow it. Catching a small glimpse of his partner's eyes from behind the mask, Sticks' jaw dropped slowly. He suddenly became concerned, his hand ever-so-gently motioning toward his machine pistol. "Partner?" he asked "You... Feeling okay? Lift up your mask."

When he got no response, only silence and inaction, Sticks tried to lift up Blades' mask only to have his hand violently slapped away accompanied by an animalistic growl. Sticks recoiled and jerked his head over to where Kurt was standing "You said he took his drugs, right? I assume you're not talking about his Kolto. How many doses did he take, one or two?"

Blades began to breath heavily, his thoughts becoming homicidal again. In the middle of the three mercs, the slave family remained silent but appeared increasingly terrified. The little girl spoke up again, looking to her mother and saying "Mamae, caes si emn gamen?" The woman just shook her head and shushed her daughter, trembling inside.

[Revan Jast]

Kurt backed away slowly, his hand on his knife. "Let's just say it's enough that you'd be pissed. It's more than the amount he ought to be taking."

His cold blue eyes watching Blades carefully. Any sense of feeling left him; it was only him and the darkness of the killer within.

One wrong move, my friend...

Kurt waited.

[RobbyL9]

Sticks was furious, but he just couldn't show it lest this scene turn dangerous. Blades listened to his two betrayers audaciously talk lies and nonsense about him. He felt his heart pumping faster and faster, just like the initial rush he experienced when he first took the drugs, except this time it wouldn't stop. It just kept getting faster and faster and wouldn't slow down. All he could think about was how much he wanted to murder everything in sight. All the possibilities of how to do it rushed through his mind and engulfed his senses. Blades tasted blood upon his lips and felt it drip from his chin.

Blades seemed distracted, as though he was cut off from the outside world by his thoughts. Sticks moved slowly to try and get a hold of the pistol to break it or disarm it or do whatever he could to keep Blades from using it in his state. He moved slowly, approaching his fellow merc from just behind his back, a little bit at a time. He had motioned as best he could to Kurt to hold still and let him try to deal with it. He hoped he had been understood.

Sticks got within reaching range of the pistol which still clenched tightly in his unresponsive friend's hand. If he could just reach in there and tap the safety, he could neutralize Blades without having to fire a shot and that would give him a chance at least. He reached in slowly, when suddenly Blades spun around violently and whipped him across the face with the pistol grip.

Sticks recovered in time to have Blades take him by the throat and begin to squeeze. He was slammed up against the side of the crates so hard that his own pistol fell out. Sticks gripped his partner's pistol hand to keep it from raising. Out of desperation, Sticks then took his other hand and slapped the underside of Blades' mask, raising it and revealing the horror underneath.

Suddenly and violently being thrown against the opposite crate and toppling to the ground next to the little girl, the image of Blades filled his mind. His partner's bloodshot red eyes burned with rage and his tear ducts bled profusely down his face, collecting at his chin and dripping to the floor.

Blades stood above his best friend, his gun now pointed between Sticks and the little girl who had resumed crying. As if by the force of someone other than himself, Blades could feel his hand almost trying to... Decide?

Blades felt his stomach tighten, but his hand remained pointed at the floor. "Why?" he asked everyone around him "Why do you all want to kill me?"

Sticks raised his hands and spoke quickly, trying with everything he had to talk his insane friend down "Blades, buddy, for the love of gods nobody wants to hurt you. Will you please just take your finger off that trigger?"

Blades suddenly noticed Kurt with his hand on his knife and jumped away. "You! Stay away from me! Stay away from me!"

Blades was now standing so that all of his conspirators stood in his field of view. So now he could see everything. It was all so clear and easy, all he had to do was pull the trigger seven times.

The voice of Sticks drew his eyes back to the ground. Blades only then realized that his pistol was pointed at the little girl's head.

"Blades. Buddy. What are you doin'? Can you see yourself right now?" Sticks' voice said in a fog "Look at this. You're pointing your gun at your partner for gods sakes. This is a family of people. Real people. About to become slaves and for what? So some rich person off somewhere in left field can profiteer from their suffering? Don't you remember all those times you talked about those kinds of people?"

Blades thought back, his arm going stiff and remaining perpetually pointed at the little girl. His memories returned to one day a few months after he became a mercenary with Sticks. They had been assigned to guard an assortment of ships coming in from the outer rim, a general contract by the Republic Senate to protect ships coming in from pirates.

Blades remembered that one of the ships they were protecting was filled with lots of passengers. But the life signals were all jammed together tightly. He and Sticks found out almost immediately and took matters into their own hands, shooting out the engines and neutralizing the reactor. The two mercs boarded and beat the living sense out of those pirates when they saw the slaves in the cages. Naked, bound in awkward ways, some of them too young to talk. Blades swore after seeing that that he would never EVER let money get in the way of who he was.

Back in the present, Sticks continued "Blades, don't you remember why you and I became mercenaries in the first place?"

Blades replied in a strained voice "Because we wanted to make a... A real difference?"

"That's right. We didn't care what anybody thought. We were determined to make things right and do the galaxy some good. But what are you doing now? Where's that all gone?"

Blades' high seemed to offer just enough of an opening for him to pause and examine where the end of his pistol was pointed.

"You're about to shoot this poor little kid. Look at her, Blades, and ask yourself... What would your sister say?"

Blades' expression changed. His eyes looked thoughtful again as he continued to go back in time. As he did this his hand moved towards his side again, just a hair at a time.

As he struggled to latch onto the clouded memories in his head, he heard Sticks say to Kurt "Tell him man. What would his sister say? She looked just like this little girl, didn't she?" Sticks mouthed the words 'Play along.'

[Revan Jast]

Kurt listened to the exchange between the two, his eyes darting back and forth as they spoke. He listened to Blades respond to Sticks question. Because they wanted to make a difference. Yes... hadn't that been why he joined as well? To make a difference... to help the helpless, the poor, the defenseless? Those who could not or were afraid to stand up for themselves?

"Tell him man. What would his sister say? She looked just like this little girl, didn't she," he heard Sticks say.

No, it had not been why he had become what he was today. When he started, he was reckless and temperamental, rash and bold. He only wanted to make-

------------

-the fuckers pay for what they did to her," he said angrily, throwing a glass cup across the room. It contained some sort of alcoholic beverage, a dark liquid that splashed the wall and floor as the cup shattered into a thousand tiny crystals. He was raging, his teeth bared in a feral grin, his eyes burning with blue fire. He finally sat down in the armchair and gripped the wooden rests with his hands, holding them so tightly his knuckles were white.

The man in the dark suit sat across from him, behind a large desk. It looked big and imposing, but Kurt didn't think it'd protect him if Kurt wanted to jump right across it and throttle the fucker. He was so pissed he'd kill anyone right this minute. Regardless of all this and Kurt's thoughts, the man over there seemed to not be disturbed at all. After a moment, he spoke.

"Kurt, I'm going to make this short. I know why you're here and what you're after, and I'll help you get it. We've tracked the killer down to a place about half an hour away from your own apartment. We'll get you the stuff you need and the directions to his place, and you can go there and do whatever it takes to get your revenge."

The man motioned to the guard by the only door into the room, who nodded and opened it. Another guard brought in two somewhat large suitcases and a backpack and left them by the door.

"That's it?" Kurt asked, standing.

"That's all you'll ever need," the man said, folding his hands on his desk.

Kurt shrugged and shouldered the backpack, leaning down to pick up the suitcases. Neither was extremely heavy, and they didn't have anything in the way of markings. He asked why.

"Just in case... you get caught," the suited man replied. "Nothing to link back to us, you know?"

Kurt nodded. He wasn't planning on getting caught.

"A warning before you go, Jervada... he's dangerous. He has skills. Just so you know."

Kurt smiled, but it wasn't a happy one. "I'm dangerous too."

----

He'd just reached his apartment when the person approached him. He dropped the cases and raised his fist to strike as he turned around. The robed figure gasped in surprise and pulled away, raising it's hands in defense. "No, Kurt! It's me!"

"Malika?" he asked, bewildered. The robed figure nodded and lowered it's hood to show a woman with long flowing brown hair and blue eyes to match a strikingly beautiful face, only marred by a long scar that ran down her left cheek. He knew that scar. Their father had done that when he was drunk.

"Hello brother," she said quietly.

"Likewise, my sister," he replied. After a moment they went inside.

-----

It didn't take long for them to catch up on old times. She was married now, to an official in the Empire's higher ranks.

"No wedding invitation?" Kurt said, half joking.

"I didn't know where you were, Kurt," she replied, tears welling up in her eyes. "I didn't know if you were off-world or... or..."

"Dead," Kurt said, his small bit of humor leaving. There was silence for a few moments.

"That's why I'm here though... I heard about what happened to your girl, and through a few contacts I got your address. I'm so sorry, Kurt."

She moved the blankets on the couch aside and sat next to him, putting an arm around him.

"Sorry about those," he said. "I can't... sleep in there after... all I smell is her and death." That was enough for him. He rested his head on her shoulder and cried as she held him.

After a few minutes of that, he stood and wiped his eyes. "But I'll get her killer."

"Kurt..."

"Don't 'Kurt' me!" he said, snapping at her. "He took my love away... my life... and he'll pay. He will PAY!"

Kurt opened the first suitcase and pulled out the clothes and armor, laying them on the chair next to him. He quickly disrobed to his skivvies, not minding her. He threw on the camo pants and shirt, pulling on his boots and lacing them and tying them.

"Listen, Kurt... you're not thinking straight. You can't just be reckless about this."

"What if it was your husband? You'd be doing the same thing."

Gloves on. Armor on. Kneepads, shoulder pads, vest.

"Yes, I would be angry and hurt. It's natural to want revenge, Kurt... but please, listen to me. The way you're going now, you're going to hurt anyone and anything just to get this guy," she said, now standing as well. Her face was stern, showing that she meant business.

He opened the backpack and pulled out the pistol clips and ammo magazines, distributing them accordingly. "Fuck em," he said, not really caring.

"That's not what you said about me," she said, and he stopped. Slowly turning around, he looked her in the eye. She continued: "That's not what you said when I needed you, Kurt. You helped me... because you cared. You killed the man that called himself our father and you didn't hurt anyone else while doing it. Get your revenge, Kurt, if you must... but don't hurt the innocent while you do it. Show respect for the little people... the ones who are tossed about by life's storms and burdened so much by the choices of others. Show some respect, please."

Kurt only lowered his head. She was right... he was being careless and only thinking about himself. He stepped forward and embraced her.

"I'm sorry for being selfish... I promise you no one else besides him will get hurt."

She nodded and kissed his cheek, then stepped away. "Go on, Kurt. I think you have things to take care of."

He put on his helmet and goggles, then opened the second of the two suitcases. Inside lay a knife. He took it out and grabbed his pistol from the hidden cache in the wall, holstering both weapons. Why had the case been heavier than that, though? Frowning, he lifted the bottom of the case out to reveal an assault rifle, the likes of one which had no been seen in hundreds of years, if not more. Those old weapons had used bullets... just like his pistol did. Interesting.

He slung the rifle onto his back and looked at Malika again. "It's going to be a while, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Since you're with this ARGUS company now... I think this man you're after wont be the only unusual death I'll be hearing about."

Kurt nodded. He embraced her one more time and walked out the door. Taking a deep breath, he walked down the hall and into his destiny.

--------

He saw Sticks mouth to play along... but he didn't need to, He knew exactly what Blades' sister would tell him... and he knew what his own would say.

Kurt looked at Blades. "What would she say, Blades? She would tell you to look out for the little people. They have a hard enough time living their own lives. Don't try and live it for them... and never let your own emotions and plans overpower you to the point that you don't care about anyone but yourself."

He shook his head sadly. "She would be so disappointed, Blades, if she could see you now, with your gun pointed at an innocent child. Fight your inner demons, Blades. Fight yourself. You can do it, Blades... you can win this battle. I know I did."

[RobbyL9]

Sticks got to his feet slowly while Kurt was talking. As much as his brain warned him not to believe it, Blades ignored that and fought with himself for control of his body again. Unable to flush the thoughts from his head, he began to claw and hit himself on the head. Blades continued to do that until his head hurt and even bled in from small scratches. He felt his stomach tighten more, making him feel kind of sick. Sick with guilt and regret, more than anything else, it seemed. By the time he was done listening and looking around at all the people he had almost hurt, Blades couldn't believe he had been so obtuse. He felt his arms go limp at last and hang at his sides.

He wanted to say something to acknowledge his best friend, even if it was just the simplest thing, to say how sorry he was. To apologize for straying so far from their original goal, to express his feelings over almost killing an innocent girl or attempting to enslave an innocent family. But no words came, just soft stammering which quickly lowered to a whimpering cry. Blades didn't even know if he could adequately express his sorrow at the moment. And if he could, he didn't feel he deserved to even speak the words he needed to beg for forgiveness.

His fingers slackened and he felt his pistol slip from his hand, finally relieving the pressure and letting the blood drain back into his hands. He could feel more hot liquid pouring from his eyes, but could tell that it wasn't more blood. Blades felt the salt in his tears stinging his wounded eyes as he fell to his knees and forward onto his hands, suddenly feeling incredibly sick. Either from the shock or his body reacting to the over-dosage of Yarrock, Blades retched violently forward and vomited on the warehouse floor. He was sweating profusely and felt very light-headed.

Sticks immediately rushed to his buddy's side when he finally saw him pass out and collapse forward onto the edge of the bright green puddle, staining his cheek. Reaching under Blades' chest, he turned him over onto his back. The last thing Blades was able to recall before blacking out was the mouth of his blood brother, which spoke most comforting words he had heard since he left his home world "You're okay. I got you. Hold on..."

When his friend's eyes closed. Sticks looked up. "Shit. We have to get out of here. Get him and them onto a skiff and I'll have the lifters just take what we got." he cried out to Kurt, starting toward the droid controls "If the second team doesn't get here in time then it's their own damn fault!"

[Revan Jast]

Kurt nodded and jogged for the skiffs, activating it and bringing it over the family.

"Get on," he said, but they didn't understand. Sighing, he picked up the little girl and sat her on it, then motioned to the skiff so they'd get the idea. That moved them.

While they got on, Kurt turned around and knelt by his partner (that was indeed what he was now, unusual or not), grabbing him by the back of his armor and dragging him up onto the skiff. "Damn, man, join WeightWatchers when you get outta here," Kurt muttered. He let go of Blades and hopped down to the ground. "Get a move on, Sticks! I'm setting the explosives now!"

Kurt went around the merchandise and stolen goods, setting the last few of his charges. Not a lot just by looking at it, but there was enough explosives packed into one of these to level a small store, let alone a base like this.

Once he was done, he waited by the skiff for Sticks.

[RobbyL9]

Sticks worked frantically to control all of the binary load lifters. He had to program and monitor the progress of these crappy things, but he did his best because his friend's life was in jeopardy if he didn't work fast enough. Sticks did his best to calm himself and slow his breathing down as he worked. He looked down at the dials and took note of the lot numbers which had been processed.

"Okay we got... Intact droids, not so intact ones, blasters, datapads, medical supplies, spare ship parts." he looked down and reprogrammed one of the droids to make one last lift and then sprinted from the controls to the skiff.

Once there, the lifters had already loaded up the skiff and it looked full enough. "Sticks yelled at the top of the skiff to "Close the ramp, get going!" and jumped onto the rigging on the side, using that to climb up. Finally on the skiff, Sticks breathed a sigh of half-relief and collapsed on the deck, unclasping his mask. His friend's fate was a matter of luck and time now.

Opening his tired eyes, Sticks noticed that the entire slave family had congregated again and were standing there looking at him and Blades who lay nearby. He sat back up and leaned against the balcony, looking up at the mother and her little girl who now sat in her arms. "Uh. Hey." he said nervously.

[Revan Jast]

Kurt manned the skiff himself, no stranger to piloting. A hatch above them opened slowly, letting in the sunlight. It was welcoming after the hard rain that had masked their entrance. Up and out!

He skimmed over the ground, mindlessly knocking down a few trees. That was alright, though.

"Sticks, freighter coordinates, please."

The merc gave them to him, but it wasn't needed after the first minute or two of travel. The ship wasn't huge, but it was big enough that it wasn't easily hidden. Kurt sat the skiff by the ramps so it'd be easier to get the stuff off.

"Ok, listen, there's no sense in making this more difficult than it is, so I'm going to get my ship and dock with you guys. If we're getting the hell outta here, may as well go out the way we came in. As a team. I'll be back."

Kurt descended the ramp and started through the jungle again, leaping over logs and ducking under branches and vines. He began to sweat lightly, the heat warming him intensely through the armor. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and blinked. Ah, there it was. Seemed like it'd been an eternity since he'd seen it. He took his seat in the cockpit and fired her up, rising above the treeline and zooming for the freighter.

He docked with ease and went to help Sticks with the rest of the shit, but he'd already pretty much gotten it all aboard. "You're a fast fucker," Kurt said, grinning at the other merc. "Come on, let's get aboard so we can see the fireworks from high up."

[RobbyL9]

Several hours later...

Blades could feel himself regaining consciousness again. He could tell that he was no longer in the warehouse or in the jungle, the air was no longer thick with droid oil and metal. It was instead replaced with the soothing smell of recycled and purified air; they were inside a ship. Blades had always liked that smell, it was plain, cool and odorless.

Recovering from sleep and regaining control of his limbs, Blades hoped to get up from his bed inside the ship only to discover that his experience on the mission had all just been a bad dream. But that hope was slashed as soon as he spied what was on the other end of the room from him. Huddled together, all in one unit as usual, was the slave family he remembered almost killing his best friend over.

Thankfully, they were all asleep or they might have noticed him waking and gotten afraid. "Wait." Blades whispered "That's the thing, if I'm the guy who did all that then why are they even here?" He looked to his left and saw the bed empty, Sticks sitting in a chair next to it with his head in his hands sleeping. Then he looked to his right and discovered the real reason that the family was here. The father was lying in the bed next to Blades, breathing through a bandaged nose and sporting a medical taping around his knee.

"Yeah. They're here visiting the guy who actually matters." Blades told himself with a sigh, falling back onto his bed and looking at the ceiling "Ah, what in gods' names is wrong with me?" He rubbed his face and temples tightly. The image of the little girl flashed in his mind's eye and he was unable to keep from slapping himself hard on the face several times. His fingers reached into his hair and brushed through it quickly as the memory replayed over and over and over again.

Blades stopped abruptly when he heard a familiar voice say something he didn't understand. He quickly looked in the direction of the sound and found the little girl looking at him drowsily. His hands fidgeting nervously, he said the first thing that came to mind "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." The girl looked confused. "Yeah, right. Still can't understand me." he continued "That's okay. You probably wouldn't want to talk anyway if we had the chance."

The girl continued to eye him quizzically. She was seated on her mother's lap with the older woman's arm around her, but managed to wriggle free without waking her mother and get down to the floor. She walked across the room toward him, cautiously at first. Blades just stayed still so he wouldn't scare her. As she got closer, however, she got braver and soon she was standing at the foot of his bed.

The girl said something brief beginning with "Mamae." Blades had heard that enough times to assume she was referring to her mother. The girl added something more onto her phrase and it sounded almost like she was explaining something.

At a loss of what to say, Blades just shrugged and nodded his head with a sigh. "Yeah. Sure, I guess." he said kind of lamely, sitting up against the wall behind his bed. The girl made a couple more small steps toward him as he did this.

She looked kind of nervous, but more in an embarrassed way than intimidated, as she said her next phrase. "Caen Mamae tul in tu posor Domon."

Blades nodded "Yeah, sure kid." he said, lightly rubbing his forehead with the first three fingers on his right hand "I'm sure you're wanting an explanation for why I did everything that I did back there. That right?"

The little girl paused in her advance toward him. She said nothing, so Blades went on.

"Well, here's the facts babe. I'm a horrible person. I had everything. I was a great soldier, I had the respect of my dad and the love of my mom. Even if my sister was... Different than me in more ways than one, she loved me too and the other way around. But it just wasn't enough."

Everything he said was true. Being a Special Forces operative where he came from was one of the highest honors a man or woman could achieve. They were given special privileges, honor, respect. But all of those things had always been secondary objectives to what Blades really wanted out of life.

He still remembered the day he told his parents that he was not only leaving home, but becoming a mercenary in the process. His mother was heartbroken and the look on his father's face was one that showed he was disowning his son after something like this. But Blades didn't care, he wanted to actually use his skills to fight. And if some good could be done in the process, then so much the better, he thought.

Presently, he looked back down at the little girl who still hadn't said anything. He resumed explaining "I went through all that training and all that awaited me, it seemed was more training and sitting around on my ass, pardon my Huttese." he said, pausing to cough and let his strained voice clear up "I wanted to fight. To feel what it was like to have an enemy, defeat him in an open conflict, smile smugly at him and make him realize he's been beaten by the better man. So I became a merc."

He could feel the tears returning to his eyes as he looked down at the tattoos on his arms. "But the tattoos. The money, the girls, the wild partying. It all came at me so fast and I..." he bit his knuckles tightly "I liked it. I didn't think it would affect me like this. And then I started on the drugs..."

Blades folded his legs up and put his face between his knees and shielded his face from view with his hand. It was just a force of habit, he didn't like others to see him cry.

He wasn't expecting what came next. Out of nowhere, Blades felt the girl take his right hand and lift it off of the top of his knee. She brought it down to her level and wrapped both her arms around it, hugging it to her. Blades didn't know what to say, but he didn't resist either.

After about a minute, the girl loosened up and started stroking his arm like it was a Gurrcat kitten. She looked up again, saying another one of her strange phrases. But this one made the most sense of all to Blades. "Heh. Look at that." he whispered, feeling a tear fall from his eye and hit the bed "Leave it to a little girl to comfort a battle-hardened mercenary with shell shock. I guess it's true what they say about innocence not being wasted on the young."

With that in mind, he leaned closely forward and whispered to her "You are a very brave little girl. You deserve a great life, nothing less." he told her, unbuttoning the top left pocket of his fatigues and pulling out a small piece of metal "I have something here for you. It's always been a lucky charm for me, but I'm thinking that a guy who burns all his bridges the way I do doesn't deserve something like this. So it's yours now."

As he pulled the metal plate all the way out of the pocket, a thin steel chain followed it out. He carefully brushed the girl's long hair behind her delicate ears and placed the long chain around her neck. Blades sighed one final time when he beheld what he was giving her. His Special Forces tag, stamped with his name, birthday, city of birth and serial number. And on the back, an engraving of the grand seal of his planet's armed forces, something only Special Forces soldiers received.

"That ain't who I am anymore. For better or worse, I'm Blades. Blades the Mercenary." he said, tapping her affectionately on her little nose. She smiled up at him, and in spite of himself Blades couldn't help but smile back.

That was short-lived, however, as Blades was shaken back to reality by a large noise from over in the corner. "NIRMALA! Nao sum nirmala!" the little girl's mother yelled, prompting her to run back into her mother's waiting arms. Her mother hugged her to her protectively and glared accusingly at Blades.

This is who I am. Now I just gotta live with it. thought Blades in a gloom, as he sat back against the wall.

[Revan Jast]

He sat in the darkness of the cockpit, the only lights to comfort him flashing and blinking on the control panels before him. He tapped his fingers on the arms of his chair, then ran a hand over his face. The facility was gone, razed by a few charges and a blazing fire. Hard to believe they were done already, because it had seemed like forever in there. All the yells, the screams, the bullets, the blood.

The ship was on auto-pilot, so he decided to let the thing run it's course and unbuckled his belt, releasing him from the pilots chair. He stood, ducked through the cockpit entrance and walked down the hall to the small cooler that sat there. He grabbed a few slices of kath hound roast and stuffed them into his mouth, relishing the coldness of the meat and the taste of the spices. He swallowed and kept going, listening to the hum of the ship around him. It was brighter out here, but not by a lot.

He walked past the sleeping quarters, glancing inside as he did so. Blades appeared to be talking to the little girl, so he didn't interrupt. He saw Blades give her something, and then her mother called her back in that strange tongue. He wasn't bilingual by any means, but he'd never heard such speech.

He waited a few more seconds and walked in, staying some distance away from the former slaves.

"I trust you're feeling a hell of a lot better by now?" Kurt asked, a small smile on his face. "No more drug induced stigmata or anything, I hope?"

[RobbyL9]

Blades clenched his fists and shook his head seriously. "Hell no, man. That was it for me. No more spice, no more drugs." he said trying to get up and being surprised by how light everything felt "Even if I can't give up the rest of vices, that is the one that I am damn dead serious forsaking 'till the day I die."

Blades looked back at the family, which had gone back to ignoring him again. "I don't suppose you or Sticks managed to find someone on board who understands their language?" he asked "It's gotta be the worst feeling in the world right now to have a mother react to me the way she is. And I don't even know any of their names. The little girl's mother yelled something like 'nirmala' at the top of her lungs when she saw her talking to me. Nirmala, I guess that'll do."

Blades stared blankly at the family as he spoke, as though he had forgotten everything else in the room except for them.

[Revan Jast]

Kurt looked from Blades to the family, and then back at Blades. "I'm sorry, but it's a foreign tongue to me as well, and anyone I may know. Perhaps you'll find someone where you're going, wherever that may be."

He made sure he had everything with him, and he did. Blades was still quiet. After a moment, Kurt spoke again.

"Is that what you want someday?" he asked, motioning to the people before them. "A wife, a child?"

[RobbyL9]

"Man, who's high now?" Blades said rolling his eyes and shaking his head "What kind of mercenary settles down and has children? It's actually my job to travel around the galaxy end to end and kill people along the way. I have slept with nearly every species of humanoid out there, what kind of woman would marry that?"

He paced around the room and shrugged his shoulders nervously. "But that wasn't what you asked, was it?" he continued "Do I sometimes wish I could have one woman to come home to? A son or a..." he paused and looked at the girl "A little daughter perhaps? I dunno. It didn't seem at all like the kind of thing I wanted when I was in the army. I still feel that same way. But I... I guess I'm holding onto the hope that I haven't messed up so bad that I keep myself from ever having that if I change my mind."

All throughout this explanation, Blades shrugged and scratched his neck nervously. He couldn't look in the same direction as Kurt because this was the first time he had really come out to anyone about this subject in years. And he was doing it with a total stranger, no less. Blades combed his fingers through his hair once and spoke in Kurt's direction "So what about you? Same question."

[Revan Jast]

Kurt removed a small canteen from his belt and took a sip of the liquor within. He swallowed and tossed the small container to Blades. "Keep the rest, if you like."

He leaned against the wall and stroked his beard, as if in deep thought. "Once," he said, finally. "Once upon a time, yes... I did want that. But the chance was taken from me... and it led to me being what I am now. I no longer have time for such desires or thoughts, partner. I've done what I can to put it behind me because it only holds me back."

He looked at the slave family. "I was like them once. Not a slave in the sense that they are... but I was a slave to anger and hate. I was, for lack of a better word, a complete bastard. And I focused that rage into my training, helping to shape my future. I learned to let go of the hate and the anger after I had done what I wanted to do with it. All that's left in me now is this... hunter blood."

He pulled out his knife and looked at it, turning it this way and that, watching the light gleam on the blade. "But let us be honest with one another. In my dreams... sometimes I see myself being free of this life. Maybe with a woman, maybe not. Maybe with a child, maybe not. Maybe there will be a kath hound puppy in the backyard who'll fetch something when you throw it... maybe not. But in this life, you could come up to me and say: 'Hey Kurt, how about another run for old time's sake?' And I would look at you and say: 'No, Blades... that life isn't for me anymore.' "

Kurt sighed. "It probably has just as much chance of happening as you have of changing your mind, but hell, you never know."

[RobbyL9]

Blades caught the flask and shrugged, opening the cap and having a swig. He choked down the fiery liquid, which stung his strained throat as it went down. Re-screwing the cap, he looked at Kurt and shook his head. "All right. Lemme me ask you something else." he asked "When we were back there and I had my pistols pointed at the captain, why exactly DID you insist that I kill him with yours instead? I didn't exactly question it then, but it's got me thinking."