Chapter 1: Pilot

Set the receiver to fifty-six. It’s morning again. The sky out the window is blue, the clouds are thin. The room smelled like tobacco and booze. There was a hint of perfume here and there, maybe a little gunpowder if you paid enough attention. She didn’t bother making her bed, she’d do it later. Breakfast was ass as always, processed meats and cheap reproduction milk. She could have spent more money on food but she really didn’t care about the luxuries. The second hand ticked over and her earbuds burst to life.

Good morning SZ! It’s seven in the morning and you know what that means! Time to get a break down with ya boy Two-Son! Bonjour bitches! We had one hell of a shitstorm last night in the south-side!

Tight-fitted denim jeans, she could have picked something more practical but she liked showing off when she could. The boots were steel-toed, she slid a knife into one of them. A white dress shirt went over her belt, she checked her piece one more time before slipping it into the holster. Who gave a shit if it was officially illegal? Cops didn’t check you these days unless you started something. She rolled up her sleeves and left a few buttons open, it was freaking hot outside anyway.

Some bandits from the outer-ring had the brains idea to pick-off with some inner-city pinks. Small timers were wrecking up hundred and second street when the Crown showed up. Leave it to the big gangs to take care of trouble before the cops! Somebody decided it’d be style to chuck a big spell into the mix, so mps showed up with big guns.

She smirked, scratching her wrist and looking in the mirror. Slate grey eyes framed with jet black patches of skin stared back beneath a head of jet-black hair and thin eyebrows. Just a little makeup and some shade for her lips. No reason to get crazy, she didn’t have a date tonight. She pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail to keep it out of her eyes. She checked her nails and clicked her tongue, been a while since she treated herself. She shrugged and walked to the fridge and pulled out a beer.

On the east-side the Isar-Corp Refineries are back online! Looks like ASTA is getting ready for a buy-out. Better watch out for those auto-enforcers, big corps mean sovereignty licenses. Those guys got guns!

She downed the drink, tossing the can in the trash and pulling a cigarette before heading to the door. Her tab buzzed and she pulled it out, flicking her thumb across the screen. Another message from work. She frowned and read the details before shutting it off and shoving it into her pocket. She put the cigarette in her mouth and it ignited of its own accord, the only evidence of her causing it a faint glow of her eyes. She took a drag and wrinkled her nose, the burned-sugar smell of mana hitting her like a truck.

The MPs are out in force this morning, that shake up on one-o-two got them rattled and they’re looking for anybody to pinch. The Council’s been busy too, pissing off the Feddies and making a general nuisance with their holier-than-thou.

To her right, a power line hanging from the ceiling was cracked, a faint blue-green glow coming from within. She frowned, piece of shit landlord, and made her way down the filthy walkway and to a set of old iron stairs to the even filthier alley. A human lay on his side on top of what looked like a pile of old shipping boxes. He sat up long enough to make eye-contact before laying right back down and avoiding her gaze. She pushed out onto the street and took it all in.

Listen up, you hooligans! This is our city! One thousand square miles of grey-on-grey, it’s up to you to paint it in your colors! This fat old disk isn’t going to conquer itself. Seven thousand years of history and all we got to show for it is your next crime spree. So buckle up and cause some trouble out there!

She turned down the sidewalk as the hum of mana-powered engines buzzed past her. Vehicles with and without wheels taking gods knew who to gods knew where. East City was the shittiest part of the disk, nothing but slums, junkyards, and factories leading up to the great big wall that kept them all inside. A truck came to a stop next to her and she looked up to see a trio of orcs inside the cabin. Two poked their heads out, one was thin and gangly with pronounced tusks and a mess of purple-dyed hair. The other was thick-set with a bald head and a pair of religious amulets hanging from his neck.

“Heeeey! Yasmine! What’s up chicka?” Purple hair said, “Goin out for a walk? Wanna join us? Could be fun gorgeous!”

“Bring some money to The Box and we’ll talk, honey,” She shot back, “I don’t work a corner.”

The thick set orc elbowed his friend and pushed him back into the truck, “Sorry ‘bout him, reina del rayo, he gets stupid ‘round the ladies. You’re packing today, out on a hunt?”

“You know I don’t talk shop,” She said, putting her hand on her hip, “Unless you think you got info to make my job easier.”

“If you’re out huntin’ I gotta tell Salvatore, he’ll want to know if you’re gonna be ashing somebody,” The Orc said, “But I might have some info for you, you got creds?”

She turned and crossed her arms, smiling at him, “I don’t have any plans to upset your boss, looking for an Erbyl,” She cocked her head, “He’s been stinking up the east side with ‘bliss’. The Crown isn’t a fan of that stuff.”

“Dark aelf?” The orc rumbled thoughtfully, “Nah I ain’t heard about no purpie dealer ‘round here. You sure they’re working these streets?”

“One of The Box’s girls came back from a date on fire, had to take her to a doctor,” Yasmine said, “Her last date was in this area. Crown worked him over and found out about the dealer.”

The Orc whistled, “Hope he wasn’t one of our boys, stupid to mess with The Box.”

“Nah, normie,” Yasmine said, “So any of that itch your brain?”

“Yeah, actually, there’s a new hairdresser a few blocks down, dark aelf, she might know something,” The Orc said, thumbing back the way he came.

Yasmine glanced in that direction before nodding, “Thanks,” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a blank white-plastic card. She tapped it to her tab and tossed it in his direction. He caught it easily. “Thousand creds there, that do you?”

“Nice, yeah that’ll do, good hunting!”

The car sped off, and Yasmine reached into her other pocket, drawing out her signal receiver and switching over to a music station. She took another drag from her cigarette and made her way down the street, greeting people as they acknowledged her presence. There wasn’t much to see, scenery-wise. The Secure Zone-once known as the City of Matra-was all made of the same pale-gray stone. There were no seams between the buildings and the ground either, making it look like the entire city had been carved out of one stupid huge mountain. The monotony of it all made it pretty easy to get bored or lost.

She frowned and flicked her cigarette at the ground, “It’s not like we can leave,” she grunted, and stopped in front of the newly opened hairdresser’s shop. A woman was standing outside, pink-violet skin and long ears with a head of off-white hair that was cut into a cute little bob. She was holding what looked like a small packet of flyers. Yasmine tilted her head and strode toward her, the woman looking up into her face and offering a big smile.

“Bienvenue! Are you looking for a hair cut?” She asked, only to gasp as she was crowded into the window behind her by Yasmine’s stride.

Yasmine put a hand on the wall to her left to block her escape, “I’ll think about it, if you can help me cutie,” She cooed, reaching up and taking the woman by the chin, “I’m looking for somebody.”

The aelf’s skin turned a dark purple around her face as Yasmine leaned in, “I uh… um… wh-who are you looking for?”

“How about you give me your name first, it’ll make it easier for me to shout it later,” Yasmine purred, “I’m Yasmine.”

“C-camille,” The woman babbled, “Camille d’Acosta.”

“Gorgeous,” Yasmine said, “Well Camille, I’m looking for a gentleman by the name of Lucard, goes by Decks on the street. Have you heard of him?”

“M-my nephew?” Camille asked, “What do you want with him?”

Yasmine clicked her tongue and stood up straighter, “He hurt one of my co-workers, I’ve been sent to have a conversation with your nephew.”

Camille’s eyes went wide, “He wouldn’t!”

“I’ve got it on good authority that he would, now here’s how this is going to work. I can have a peaceful conversation with him, he’ll get his one warning, and you and I can have a little fun later,” Yasmine said, playing with the woman’s hair and leaning in even closer so Camille could smell her, “Or, I can get pissed off. You’ve got the golden ticket beautiful, don’t waste it.”

Every inch of the Erbyl’s face had darkened with embarrassment, “I-I-I’ll get him.”

“Good girl,” Yasmine whispered, and pulled away. Camille hurried inside and Yasmine followed her in. The shop was cute, with two sets of chairs for styling, a pair of mirrors, and a few benches for waiting. There was a young male Erbyl sweeping the floor in the back when Camille entered. Unlike Camille who Yasmine could tell was at least in her fifties or sixties (which wasn’t all that old for their kind) Lucard was barely an adult. Camille hurried over to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. She said something and he looked over at Yasmine, terrified. He started to set down his broom.

Yasmine took a deep breath, opening herself to the astral plane and allowing the endless fountain of Mana to pour into her body, searing through her veins before reaching her brain. She worked through the mental form, it was like a dance, exerting her will through thought alone on the world around her. Around them, all the doors in the building slammed shut without a word only to be followed by the simultaneous clicks of their locks engaging. She put her hands on her hips again, “I suggest you don’t try to run from this, you’re in a lot of trouble kid.”

“Psion,” The boy breathed.

“Yup,” Yasmine said, “Do you know who I work for?”

“The Crown?” He asked, his voice growing small, “The Box?”

She nodded, “Do you know what you did?”

He looked at his aunt and then back at Yasmine, “I don’t want any trouble.”

“You got it when one of your customers nearly killed one of our girls,” Yasmine bit out, “Now give me a damn confession and tell me where the rest of your garbage is.”

“What is she talking about?” Camille asked.

“I’ve been dealing bliss, on the side,” The boy muttered.

“But that’s…” The woman gasped, horrified.

“Yeah, a submission drug, used by men who can’t get a date,” Yasmine growled, “Where’s your stash, kid?”

“In my room,” He mumbled.

“Cool, I’m going to destroy it, you’re going to sit there and not get in my way,” Yasmine said, “Are we clear?” The boy sat down on the floor and nodded. “Good kid. I don’t know what you were hoping to accomplish with that shit, but you’re lucky they sent me. The boss was madder than hell. Anybody else would have put a bullet in you.”

“Please! You’re scaring him!” Camille begged.

“Good!” Yasmine barked, “Imagine how that girl felt when all her pain receptors stopped working! When she couldn’t control her inhibitions! When she started to flame out and couldn’t figure out how to breathe!”

Camile shrank under her verbal assault, “I-I-I’m sure he had a good reason for getting involved with-”

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“Sure, yeah, whatever, sob story, I’ve heard it all before, look, you’re drop-dead gorgeous and I really don’t want to drag this out. So take me up to his room and we’ll be done.” She sighed, “And as much as I would like to take you to dinner I doubt that’s even remotely on your mind right now, so I’ll be out of your life as soon as this is over. Clear?” Yasmine ordered.

Camille hesitated, and then nodded, stepping away from her nephew and leading Yasmine up the stairs and into the residence above the salon. It didn’t take long to find the kids room, nor did it take long to find what she was looking for. A simple lock-box beneath the kids bed rattled with the sound of glass vials as she hefted it out. With a thought and a draw of mana she lifted the object into the air and it began to glow with heat. Before long, the sound of popping and shattering glass could be heard from within followed by a foul smell.

“Heat renders bliss inert, it’ll stink but it won’t hurt you,” Yasmine said, clenching her fist and watching The Box crumple in on itself. She let it fall to the ground and turned to Camille. “Welp, business is done, nice meeting you Camille. Just do me a favor and make sure your nephew stays out of stupid shit from now on.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep, that’s it.”

“M-maybe it’s for the best,” Camille breathed in relief, “I don’t want something like that in my home.”

Yasmine scratched the back of her head, “You’re welcome,” She grunted, “It’d be a damn waste if that stuff had drawn the wrong kind of attention.”

“A waste?” Camille asked.

Yasmine sighed, “Man you’re dense, it’s cute though,” She checked her tab, “Ah hell I finished early, I guess I have time,” She said, and rounded on the aelf, who backed into her nephew’s desk, wide-eyed. Yasmine put one foot between Camille’s and put her hands on the desk on either side of her. “You can say no and I’ll leave, no hard feelings whatsoever,” she whispered, “But if you want, I can take the edge off of this stressful experience.”

The woman blinked and looked away, her skin darkening again. “H-here?”

Yasmine grinned.

---

An hour later, Yasmine came down the steps, finding Lucan still sitting on the floor looking dejected. She adjusted the buttons on her shirt and turned in his direction. “Easy money ain’t actually easy kid, pick your battles,” She said and made her way towards the door. She paused and turned around. “Oh and you might want to wash your bedsheets,” She said with a wink before pushing her way out onto the street.

She drew out a cigarette and lit it up, taking a drag as her tab began to ring. She pulled it from her pocket, bringing it to her ear. “O’Haire speaking.”

“It’s Kurda,” Came an almost infuriatingly smug voice on the other end.

“Yo boss.”

“Did you find our dealer?” He asked.

“What do you take me for? Of course. He was a kid, I let him off with a spanking,” Yasmine said.

“Kinky,” Kurda chuckled, “As long as he isn’t distributing that garbage in my city.”

“It’s taken care of, Thorne. You gonna pay me or what?” Yasmine growled.

“Of course! Come on by The Box, hun, I’ll get you squared away. While youre here, you up for some time at the pole? One of my girls is sick.”

Yasmine frowned, “I’ll think about it, it’s been a while.”

“The crowds miss you, gorgeous,” Kurda said, “Let me know what you decide. I’ll even drop my cut of the tips.”

“Generous.”

“Aren’t I though?” He laughed, “I’ll see you soon, O’Haire.” He cut the connection. She stared at the tab for a while before slipping it back into her pocket and scratching her wrist. Damn, it itched. She examined it and let out a sigh, maybe she should get it looked at while she was at The Box. She shoved her hands into her pockets, turned on her heel, and stepped back onto the sidewalk. She was about to turn her receiver back to the radio station when she heard a shout that made her expression go stiff.

“Yasmine! Oh! Haire!” Came a boisterous shout from behind her. She rolled her eyes and turned around only for them to go wide as she saw the biggest male orc anyone had ever seen charging in her direction with the stupidest smile on his face. The next instant she felt the impact of almost four hundred pounds of idiot crashing into her and wrapping its arms around her shoulders and back. The big guy picked her up off the ground and gave her a squeeze. She stared down, deadpan, into the face of Alec Karzai.

“Alec, what the actual gods damned fuck, where did you come from?” She ground out, wincing as he squeezed her. “Memna’s tits! Let go!”

He barked out a laugh and released her. She stumbled and nearly missed her footing before scowling up at the man-mountain. Alec had to be at least seven feet tall, packed with muscle and with an annoyingly pretty face to match it. He was sporting five o’clock shadow and had a pair of silver rings around each of his well-defined tusks. More notably was the dark patches of skin around his eyes that marked him as a psion like herself. He scratched the back of his head of thick dark hair and glanced toward the salon. His expression dropped into a frown.

“Ah man, did I miss it?” He grumbled.

Yasmine glanced at the salon as well and then exhaled, “Who told you I was on the job?”

“Overheard some of the boys down the street gabbin’ about it,” He said, “Figured you might like an extra pair of these hands!” He laughed, showing her his insufferably big fists.

She reached up and put her far smaller hand on one of his fingers, pushing it down and shaking her head. “It was just some punk kid who got a supply of Bliss. Calm your tits, big guy.”

Alec frowned at the young man who was still sitting on the floor in the center of the salon, looking dazed. He glanced back at Yasmine, “Did you ask where he got it from?”

“Not what I was paid to do,” Yasmine said dismissively, turning away, “I wrecked his supply and warned him about picking it back up. Job’s done.”

Alec rolled up his sleeves and turned toward the door, licking his lips, “I could ask ‘im for ya!”

“Or you could not and we could go for a drink?” Yasmine grumbled, “I want to get out of East City as soon as possible and back into the Box.”

“You live here,” He said, confused.

“All the more reason,” She rumbled and turned on her heel, striding away from the big man and waving a hand. “You can stand there looking like some garden variety thug or you could escort me back, your choice big guy.”

He didn’t have to think very long, which surprised Yasmine a little. He hurried after her, falling into step with her as they made their way up the street and past her apartment. She lit up another cigarette and cast him a sidelong look before looking back at the street. “How’s your brother?” She asked, taking a drag and blowing away from him. She was grumpy but she wasn’t a bitch. He shrugged noncomittally and she chuckled, “Off on his own again huh?”

“Don’t keep much track of Amon, he has his own kind of work,” Alec said.

“What happened this time?” She demanded, flicking her cigarette at the ground as they passed a pair of homeless on the street. One of them hid behind a blanket while the other stared at her. She glanced down at the vagrant’s hands and noted the burn scars on his fingertips. They were old. She looked the guy in the eyes and then turned back to Alec.

“Boyfriend trouble, he just needs some time to himself,” Alec grunted, scratching his chin. “Hey did you notice…” He trailed off when Yasmine shot him a sharp look and kept walking. His expression went from confusion to thoughtfulness to a grin and he scratched his arm. “Is the pay going to be good for the job?” He asked as if they hadn’t had the exchange.

“Doubt it,” Yasmine said, “Thorne offered me some time at the pole.”

Alec laughed, “You haven’t danced for him in years! Can you still do it?”

Yasmine snorted, “Better than any of his primadonnas can, that’s for damn sure.”

“This I gotta see,” Alec said, pulling out his tab and looking at it for a moment before nodding once to Yasmine.

Yasmine shook her head and looked up to the sky, “Zera help me in this challenge.”

“God of War, really?” Alec asked, dubious.

“And wisdom and challenges,” She corrected him, slipping her hand down to her hip, “Read a book dipshit.”

“Right, right,” Alec said, rubbing his knuckles a little and in a flash turned around with Yasmine. Alec’s knuckles started to glow as Yasmine pointed her gun at their pursuer. The homeless man with the burned fingertips froze, his eyes going wide as he looked down the barrel of the weapon and then over at the glowing knuckles of the titanic bull orc. He held up his hands, taking a few unsteady steps backward before finding something that appeared to be footing despite the way he swayed on his feet. Yasmine sniffed the air but she didn’t smell alcohol. She looked the man in the eyes again and took note of the heavy bags. When was the last time this guy slept?

“Give me one good reason not to plug you, guy,” Yasmine hissed, “I don’t like being followed.”

“Woah woah! Wait a second!” The man blurted before falling into a coughing fit, when he finally regained himself he held his hands back up and managed to speak, “Please! J-just hear me out! You’re Yasmine O’Haire right?”

Yasmine cocked her head to the right, “Who’s asking?”

“M-My name is Flipp, Flipp Moran,” The man said, “And I have a job for you.”

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