Shriek and Duo stepped out of the tavern, drifting down the main road. Lantern light cut across the dust as Duo spoke.
"I don't know, boss. He's a headache, sure—but he's plenty useful."
Shriek snorted. "I'd been trying to poach him from Mav since she first pulled him in. He's one of the toughest Luzers I've seen."
Duo nodded. "True. And we could use someone who can work on Mechanicas."
Shriek stopped cold, metal boots grinding against stone. She turned, eyes sharp.
"I'm not letting him lay a finger on ours. Boy's poison to metal. I'm telling you."
Duo blinked. "Poison?"
"Yeah. Poison. Not touching the Mechanicas. But in a fight?" Her grin crept back as she slung an arm over Duo's shoulder. "That's different. All the big crews got multiple Luzers. Once we have a third, we'll be unstoppable."
She squeezed his shoulder, voice dropping into a growl.
"And if we can't have him? I'm sure as hell not letting anyone else take him."
They walked several meters down the road before stepping into a shady gambling hall.
A Puppet on spindly legs greeted them at the entrance, voice flat. "Would you like to purchase chips?"
"Yeah, we'll take double hundreds," Shriek said.
The Puppet's mechanical eyes narrowed. It slid a special chip across the counter, its voice lowering. "Safe betting."
The doors creaked open.
Inside, smoke hung thick in the air. Puppet dealers shuffled cards at warped tables, their glassy eyes unblinking. Bandits and mercs hunched over bets, grumbling at losses, shouting at each other between swigs of Mudd.
Shriek and Duo cut through the haze toward the back wall, stopping at a vending machine. Shriek slipped the chip into the slot. The wall beside it lit up in a Luzid green outline, then turned transparent, shaping into a doorway.
They stepped through.
Armed guards blocked the narrow hall, rifles raised. "Weapons."
Duo unstrapped his gauntlets and set them down with a reluctant sigh.
Shriek detached one of her metal arms with a hiss of gears, setting it aside to reveal the flesh-and-bone limb beneath. Then she raised her remaining arm, Luzid steel catching the dim light in wicked gleams.
"Sorry," Shriek said, smiling wickedly. "This one's attached."
The guard hesitated, then stepped aside. "She can pass."
Shriek and Duo moved deeper into the chamber.
A hologram shimmered to life ahead—a young woman clad in flowing, regal attire, light dancing across her features like shifting glass.
Duo let out a low whistle. "Well, damn. Haven has style."
Shriek folded her arms, unimpressed. "I thought I was supposed to be meeting the big man."
"Yes," the woman replied coolly, "but he is a busy man. I've been made lead contact for this operation."
"I'd rather speak to him directly. I had a proposition for your leader." Shriek's tone was dismissive, her eyes narrowing.
The woman tilted her head. "Oh, perhaps I'm misunderstanding. Are you not in the final stages of your enlistment with Haven? Normally, we vet out those combative to our procedure."
Duo raised both hands. "Whoa, whoa—cool your jets. She just figured the big man would show. We're happy to comply."
Shriek forced a thin smile. "Fine. Let's redo this. I'm Shriek, this is Duo. And you are?"
"I am a Judicator. I'll be leading the operation to liberate Tereliva. Now—" her eyes flickered with faint light, "—I'm told you've been tasked with securing and delivering a Mechanica we want."
"Sure am, got the courier and the device tucked away safe as we speak."
"Good. Keep them secure until I arrive in a few days. Then you will deliver both to me in Tereliva. Does that sound acceptable?"
Shriek's grin sharpened. "Very much so. You can depend on us."
She leaned forward slightly, voice low. "There's just one more thing—"
Back at the Saloon, Jasper blinked herself awake, dazed, wrists bound.
She rolled onto her back, staring into the suffocating dark of the black bag pulled over her head. She'd been here before—tied up in some backroom, underestimated.
Her fingers worked the cuffs. Not too tight. Easy.
She drew in a sharp breath, then exhaled, dislocating her thumb with a muted groan. Metal slipped free. She was already sliding her hands out when a noise stirred just beyond the fabric. She froze, forcing her thumb back into place with a muffled wince.
Slowly, carefully, she curled a hand into her boot, fingers brushing the grip of her hidden pistol. With one fluid motion she pulled the bag off her head—
And stopped.
Dwarven sat under a dim lamp, steady hands tinkering with her battered camera.
"Look who's up," he said without looking over. His voice was level, almost casual. "Housing on this thing was pretty wrecked. Luckily I managed to reinforce it with some scrap they had lying around."
Jasper glanced down at her camera, but the revolver stayed trained on him.
Dwarven finished the repairs, turning the device in his hands once, twice, before offering it out.
She jolted, caught between instinct and confusion. A moment ago, he'd betrayed her to Shriek's crew. Now he was fixing her camera. The contradiction left her bristling.
"A right mess you've gotten yourself into, huh?" Dwarven said.
She snatched the camera from his hand, eyes darting over the reinforced housing—yet her weapon never wavered.
"You know—"
He lunged.
"I don't like guns pointed at me."
His hand clamped down on the weapon, fingers locking the hammer before it could fire. Jasper squeezed the trigger anyway. Click. Nothing.
She twisted, shifting her weight, trying to tear it free. He pushed, trying to wrench it from her grip. They slammed against crates, boots scraping on stone, locked in a tangle neither could dominate.
"You're pretty good, huh?" Dwarven grunted.
With a burst of leverage she broke loose, stumbling into the wall. She snapped the revolver back up and pulled the trigger again.