"So, this Pat Picani?" Virgil asked, checking the hologram Ax had given him. "Looks peaceful enough."

"Yeah but they're a bounty hunter, don't forget." Roman chipped in. He leaned over Virgil's shoulder to get a better look at Pat's flickering blue image.

"Yeah an' there's a bounty on both our heads. Look at this." Virgil swiped the image of Pat Picani away only to replace it with an image of him and Roman. Scrolling text at the bottom of the screen read:

Roman Winston, of E-75, deserted the Resistance and stole an X-Wing on the 4th of the 7th star and was last seen on T-3.5. 600 credits returned to the Resistance alive.

"600 credits for delivering me to an execution?!" Roman asked. "Ain't that nice?" He said sarcastically.

"At least they actually want ya alive for the time bein'." Virgil said. "Look at mine."

Virgil Summers, origin unknown, has left a trail of theft in his wake. Last seen on T-3.5 by a large group, running from a stall he'd just robbed. Dead or alive, 550 credits.

"1,500 credits between us." Virgil said, swiping back to the image of Pat Picani. "An' I'll bet ya'that they ain't gonna go lightly wi' us."

"So what do we do?" Roman asked.

"What we do," Virgil said, minimizing the hologram, "is we try not to die."

"Incus! Hey, Incus!"

Oh, perfect. Just what he needed right now. A visit from Mallious.

"Not now." Janus said, turning away from Mallious.

"Yes, now." Mallious insisted. "What th' Hell? I thought ya said ya had th' engineer?"

"I did!" Incus snapped, whirling around to face his masked compatriot. "I had him!"

"But he got away." Mallious sneered. "So how'd ya figure'that, genius?"

"I didn't let him escape!" Janus was nearly shouting now. "I had him! He had stopped! But then this stupid alien with a gun started shooting at me! What was I meant to do, die?"

"Maybe." Mallious hissed. "Ain'that why ya turned? To finally have somethin' to live for? To die for?"

"Why, is that why you turned?" Janus snarled. "You turned towards death?"

Mallious snapped, "It's better than turnin' away from somethin'."

"Maybe we should just run for it." Roman hissed.

"Shut up."

"But they aren't even here yet." Roman insisted. "We could leave and they'd never know."

"Who'd never know what?"

Virgil practically jumped out of his seat as the bounty hunter sat down. Glasses with a small hairline crack along one of the blue lenses pushed high on their nose, blue jacket over a grey shirt, blaster holstered in their belt, hologram band - maybe two or three suns old. Dangerous.

"So," Pat rested their elbows on the table, lacing their fingers together, "I've got exactly five seconds and two very dangerous hunts sat at this table with me. Tell me why I shouldn't turn you in." They held up a hand. "Go."

Four, three- shit, they were counting down!

"Cause Ax sent us." Virgil said quickly. Pat stopped and looked over at him, still hovering on the number two.

"Did xe?" Pat laced their fingers together again. "Prove it."

"Xe sent ya a comm." Virgil said, slowly but starting to panic. "An'- an' xe said ya'd be able to help us find someone."

"Why should I help either of you?" Pat asked. "Between you, I'll get-"

"1,500 credits, we know." Roman said, speaking for the first time. "We already worked it out. But listen," he sat forward in his chair a little, "the Empire's got a new weapon. Painful, galaxy-destroying, worse than the Death Star."

"Nothing's worse than the Death Star, fighter." Pat snarled.

"This thing is." Roman insisted.

"We've seen it in action." Virgil chipped in.

"Right, right." Pat said, clearly disbelieving. "What does this 'worse-than-the-Death-Star' thing do? And make it quick otherwise I'll cart you both in and collect the 1,5000 credits that I'm due."

Roman snatched a glance at Virgil. Are you sure you want to do this?

Virgil nodded, the slightest fraction of a tilt of the chin. Definitely.

Virgil looked at Pat. "Ya ever heard of molecular disengagement?"

PAT, MY BELOVED! THEY HAVE ARRIVED!
Bye,
Blaize