The bar was muggy, but sitting on the swamp would do that to a place. Sweat beaded on Jacob’s neck as he sat at the bar, in between two horrendous smelling oafish men. He winced as the breeze blew the dank odor into his nose. He took another shot of scotch and looked around the bar again. Why did contacts always want to meet him in places like this? He could never tell who was friend or foe in these places. If they had met in the square, back in town, he could have had his own allies stashed in alleys and places. But this was where his buyer felt comfortable, so he had to go with it. He just hoped this hit would be easier than the last one. His last target had been ex-special forces. Probably the hardest hit he had ever had to do. He sighed as he took another hit. Something flashed on the screen about a large ship that had been found months ago, out in an uncharted area of black. Jacob shrugged. ‘Just some looped out freak that decided to take a swim. Why is everyone so hyped about it?’ he thought. Then a picture flashed on the screen of two men. The first was a bald man with a red goatee and an evil grin on his face. The second was a younger man with the most familiar eyes Jacob had ever seen. He looked at the young man’s face. It was slender, but not to the point of being emaciated. It was an old picture, looked like it would have been taken during the war or something. Jacob shrugged and stood from his seat. The news said something about a reward for information on the location of the second man. Jacob shrugged. He was no friend to the Alliance, though most of his clients were higher ups in the infrastructure. Had he been old enough, he felt, he would have fought for the Independents. He shrugged again. This wasn’t the time to dwell on such things. Someone walked in that he knew had to be his contact. She was tall and gorgeous. Her blonde hair seemed to radiate in this dull room. Her long legs were draped with black cloth, but it clung nicely to her figure. The holster on her side housed a sawed off shotgun, that seemed to enhance her appeal. Jacob watched her eye the room, and grinned as her eyes came to rest on his red hair. It had separated him from the crowd for so many years, now it seemed to work in his favor. She walked towards him, her hips swaying gently, almost hypnotizing him. She stopped in front of him and looked him over. She licked her full, red lips and took a deep breath before she said anything. “I figured you’d be taller.” She said, matter-of-factly. He blinked. “What?” “Well from the way they described you, I figured you’d be taller. And they didn’t mention the hair. But the eyes are striking.” She said as her hand reached for her gun. Jacob’s hand went to his own holster, but he found it empty. “What the hell?!” He shouted as he dove out of the way. Her shotgun blast emptied the bar. He stood up, pulling the knife from his boot. “Well what did you expect Cheek? That they wouldn’t look for you? That you could kill Aries and just vanish into thin air? Hardly.” She said as she loosed another volley of metal. “Lady, you got the wrong cat.” Jacob shouted as he fell to the floor and scrabbled towards a fallen gun. Her foot came down on top of the pistol as his hand reached it. He cussed as he looked up the barrel of the shotgun in his face. “You and I both know I’m not looking for a cat.” She said as she racked it. “I’m kind of disappointed though. I figured you’d put up more of a fight.” Jacob grabbed her ankle and yanked it out from under her. He heard her head hit the floor as he jumped on top of her and placed the knife tightly at her throat. “And I figured you were my contact. Obviously not.” He saw his own confusion reflected in her eyes. Then he felt her butt stock slam into his temple. His world swirled as he fell off of her. “Hmm. No wolfish attack? What do you not find me a threat or something?" She asked as she put the gun to his cheek. Then she felt the cold steel against her own face. "No, I really don't." He whispered venomously. She turned and found the barrel of a .357 pointed in her mouth. His eyes were blue, that striking blue she had heard about, but with cores of yellow. His face had the scruff of a few days growth on it. He was taller than the man beneath her, and his hair was brown, though lines of grey seemed to trace along the edges of his hair line. He looked like the wolf she had heard he would have. She grinned. This was her mark. Her leg lashed out from underneath her and struck his shin. A blow that would have sent any normal man's legs from underneath him, Bo didn't react with even a flinch. Her green eyes widened in shock and even (could she say it?) fear. "Yes, it is fear Ashlynn." He said quietly, so quietly she wasn't sure it had been him saying it. He reached down and grabbed her arm, wrenching her body up to his level. She stared into his eyes and felt something make her thoughts waver, and then she felt like she was falling. She couldn't see anything, but she could hear him breathing. Then she didn't hear anything either. Everything was black. No sound, no light.

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They watched him through the security feed. He picked her up, and for a moment they just stared at each other. Then her eyes closed and she went limp in his arms. He laid her there on the table and bent down to pick up the other man. Before he could, a hyena came to stand next to him, licking his arm. He reached over and scratched the animals head. He then lifted the other young man, as easily as he would have lifted a child. "This is your target. He is far more dangerous than he appears. What you have been shown over the passing days is less than we believe he is capable of. Remember he is a psychic as well as what we have now deemed as a Genetic Mutation. You have been briefed on his vital stats. Now, you have been briefed. Get this piece of shit out of my 'verse. One way, or another." The colonel barked. Chairs slid back and men and women tromped towards the door, grabbing weapons on their way through the hallway, into the street outside. All of them walked out, wearing full armor that was concealed cleverly with civilian clothing.

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Jacobs head swirled as he opened his eyes. The lights were dim, thank god. The thud of boots echoed in his head as the man approached. He wore a long brown coat that hung nearly to his ankles. Jake had only seen one other person wear a coat like that, and it had been months since he’d even heard anything about Reynolds. The young man was clean shaven now, though he still looked like the picture Jacob had seen on the screen. “She clocked you pretty good.” He said gruffly as he put a cold towel on Jacob’s forehead. Jacob winced, but let the cool rush over his forehead. He looked at the outlaw, saw care and pain seated deep in his eyes. “Why’d-” Jacob started, but his voice died. His voice rasped. “Sorry, you probably need water. I wasn’t ever one to be a medic, givin bullets was more my speed, not takin ‘em out.” Bo laughed. Jacob nodded as he drank deeply from the offered cup. His eyes roamed the room as he drank. It was a quarters room on a small ship. From the feel of things, they were still on the ground. “I’m looking to get a bigger one, but for now it’ll hold the three of us.” Bo said. “The three of us?” Jacob asked. “Yeah. You, me, and the drunken bastard in the engine room. I don’t ever count space for Whiskey because he can always just sleep in my bunk.” Bo laughed. “Yeah, sure. But what makes you think I’m coming with you?” Jacob said as he stretched his arms. “Because she’s not the only one looking for someone whose name is Cheek, and the safest place you’ll be is on this ship.” Bo said matter-of-factly, his back to the young man. Jacobs hand wrapped firmly around the pistol at his bedside. He aimed it at the young man’s back. He hadn’t intended to go after the bounty on this guy, but he never was one to pass up an opportunity. The shot was deafening, but the effect was perfect. The body hit the floor, and Jacob was up and out the door in a split second. He grinned as he thought of the reward that he’d get when he brought the sheriff of the town to one of the most wanted in the ‘verse. He wandered down to the engine room, where he found a man hanging into the engine, a bottle of rice whiskey in his hand. He cleared his throat and watched the man stumble back. He looked at Jacob as though he couldn’t really see him. ‘He really is drunk! And with the bottle so close to the engine. This is ridiculous.’ Jacob thought as he raised the pistol to aim at the mechanic. The blade had to be at least a foot long as it stretched across his throat. “It’s not polite to shoot people in the back. Don’t you have any manners?” Bo’s voice said bluntly from behind him. “’Ey, keep a hanle on ‘im. ‘E came in an almos put a round in me.” Smith stumbled over the words as he stumbled back to the engine. Bo laughed from behind Jacob as he took his arm and wrenched it up behind his back and hauled him into the small cargo area. He threw the young man to the ground as he pulled his brown leather coat off. He stared through the bullet hole at the man on the floor. “This coat means a lot to me, and you putting a bullet through it don’t help your cause. So how do you suppose we fix this? I mean twine is how it’s gonna get fixed. We just got this other issue, you know with you shootin me in the back and all.” Bo said as he laid his coat aside. Jacob looked up at the man he had just shot with eyes as blank as the space above them. ‘How?’ He thought. ‘You wouldn’t believe it even if I told you little brother’ Bo thought to himself as he listened to Jacob’s thoughts. Jacob stood up and dropped his own jacket. Black ink traced up and down his arms, articulate designs mapped out across the tan flesh. Bo grimaced. He’d tasted tattoos before and knew that they were bitter because of the ink. He had no plan’s on feeding on his own brother, however. Just teach the boy that there were dangers that couldn’t be solved with bullets, that the kid needed to think things through, rather than act on instinct. He laughed to himself as he thought about what had just run through his mind. ‘Me of all people, teaching someone not to act on instinct.’ A growling laugh echoed in the back of his mind. He set his feet and launched himself at the young man. Jacobs eyes widened as the fist met his gut, sending the wind out of his lungs. It felt like he’d been hit with a mule. Stars glittered in front of his eyes. Before he knew it he was off the ground, soaring towards the wall. “Granted this may be nothing more than an overblown sibling rivalry, but things gotta be straightened out Jacob.” His mind swirled but not enough to where he missed the comment. ‘Sibling… rivalry? And how the hell does he know my name?’ Jacobs murky mind thought. ‘I know a lot more than you think I do, young one.’ Said a voice in his head. Jacob’s eyes dimmed, and the last thing he saw was Bo’s face. The sad expression showed him everything, then everything went black.

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The door rattled on the hinges as a gust of wind swept through the street. Nik took a drag off of one of his last cigarettes and looked Jeremy. “Slow day.” Jeremy said as he spit into the bottle. “I didn’t notice.” Nik grumbled as he rodded the barrel of pistol. Jeremy laughed as he spit again. It wasn’t only a slow day, it had been a slow month. That might have been what was attributing to Nik’s bad mood. The cigarette should have been doing something though, unless they were stale. Jeremy shrugged, it was more than likely. He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. “I don’t pay you to sleep, ass hole.” Nik said as he looked over at Jeremy. “You don’t pay me period.” Jeremy laughed as he cracked his neck. Nik blew smoke out into the air of the gun shop. The walls were lined with the deadly merchandise. He marveled at how well stocked he was for this time of year, and wondered how he wasn’t making any money. The wind blew across the paved street again, causing the door to rattle again, grinding on Nik’s nerves even more. The bell above the door rang as it swung open. Both men looked up in surprise. The look of surprise changed immediately as the customer got closer, reeking of rice whiskey. “Shit, another drunk.” Nik muttered. “I’m not drunk, just tipsy.” The man said with a smile. He eyed the piece that Nik was cleaning at the moment with an appreciation. Then he eyed the rest of the counters and the walls. “You got somethin that shoots heavy rounds? Like .45’s or .50’s?” The man asked, flashing that drunken smile again. Before Nik could answer, the door opened again and another young man entered. “Bo, learn to look after your crew would you? Especially when they’re gettin as drunk as this prick.” “’Ey!” Smith said, with a hurt look in his eye. He then absentmindedly went back to looking at the multiple guns that lined the walls. Bo laughed as he went to the counter. “How you been Morse?” Bo asked, still used to calling his friend by his last name. “Good, other than the fact that my wallet’s emptier than the fields around here come hunting season.” Bo grimaced, but scrounged through the pistols, looking to replace one of his .357’s that he had lost on Aries’ ship. He looked down and spotted one that matched his. “Mind if I take a look at that mag. down there?” Bo asked. “The .357? Sure. ‘Ey, Evans, why don’t you get your lazy ass out of that chair and keep an eye on our inebriate over there.” Morse said as he reached for the pistol. “What the hell do you think I look like? A babysitter?” Jeremy asked “You don’t want me to tell you what you look like.” His hand grabbed the pistol, and a crash echoed through the shop. Morse’s eyes jumped to the scene, where Smith had knocked over an entire gun rack of rifles. Smith stood, staring down at the scattered guns. He shrugged and walked towards the door. “You gonna fix that, jack ass?” Morse asked. Smith walked out the door and into the street. Morse rolled his eyes and handed Bo the pistol. “You better be careful with him. Next time he shows his face in my shop I’ll be liable to shoot him.” Morse growled at Bo. “I’ll keep it in mind.” Bo laughed. He looked the gun over with the eye that had earned him some of the better weapons during the war, noticing every slight flaw, every scratch, and every detail. He smiled, because with Morse’s guns there were usually so few of these. The gun in his hands had seen battle at the very least, the wear on the barrel told him that. It was a good gun none the less, and he’d set aside just enough to get it, if he could get Morse down to the right price. “So, don’t guess you’re selling this for any less than five hundred huh?” Morse laughed. “If that.” “Our history couldn’t be taken into account here could it?” Bo asked sheepishly. “Might be able to knock it down to your price range for that.” Morse said as he pulled out a box of ammo. A loud snore echoed from the other side of the room. Both men looked over to find Evans laid back in the chair, sleeping like a baby. “Jin tzahng mei yong-duh” Morse muttered. Bo laughed as he slapped down about four hundered and fifty dollars. Morse counted it and rolled his eyes. “You better be glad you’re a good friend, tah mah de.” “Yeah, thanks Morse.” Bo said with a laugh. He turned and followed Tyler, following the scent of rice whiskey easily with his keen sense of smell. Morse put the money in his safe and went back to clean up the mess that Smith had made. A noise from his ammo room made him stop. He drew out a pistol and checked the magazine. It was full of hollow points so he slapped it back into the gun. He grabbed the door and flung it open. Three men stood in the back corner with a large box that one was typing something into. “’Ey! What the hell you fu-” Nik got cut off by the arming of the bomb the three men had been typing numbers into. “Bomb armed. Detonation in Twenty seconds.” “Shit.” Nik said as he dashed out to the lobby. He felt the flames lick at the back of his legs as he ran. X------------------------------------------------------------------------X

Jeremy turned as Morse came running from the back, motioning for him to get out. Jeremy bolted through the door, his cut-off M-4 banging on his leg as he hauled ass into the street. A deafening explosion followed them as they fell to the dirt. Splinters flew at their backs, and rocks rained down on them. Nik looked up to see Bo helping them up, staring into the rubble that had been the shop. “My head,” Smith groaned. Bo shook his head as he stood Morse up. “What happened?” He asked. “Three guys in the back room blew my shop to bits.” “I noticed the blown to bits part.” Bo said as he held his nose to the wind. He shook his head. “No good, all I can smell is ash and smoke.” Smith stood up, now noticeably sober, and stared into the blackened pile of wood and concrete. Smoke danced its way into the air from the sputtering flames that littered the debris. Jeremy kicked a large chunk of concrete into the rubble. It hit the exposed barrel of a gun and made a dull sound. He rolled his eyes and pulled the gun from the pile. It was still in relatively good shape. He looked at Nik and shrugged. Nik nodded and moved into the trashed building frame and started picking through it. It took them a few hours, but between the four of the men, they got all the serviceable guns out of the wreckage and set them aside.

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Morse looked off as the sun set. Questions blasted into his head as his gaze shifted to the guns that lay on the sidewalk. Bo stepped into his sight and grabbed a stack of guns and turned to walk away. “Yo jackass! What the hell?!” “Grab a handful and come on! Might as well load ‘em up.” Bo said over his shoulder. “What do you think this is, a goin out of business sale?!” “I think its relocation. You’re comin with me bud. You and Jeremy. You can sell out of the ship.” Bo shouted as he made his way across the street. “What?” Morse said, racing after him. “I’ve got a feeling this is my fault, so I’m gonna let you sell out of my ship.” Morse froze, contemplating this offer. Then he shrugged, grabbing a pile of weapons and following Bo towards the ship. He heard Evans and Smith do the same and shook his head. ‘Trouble follows him and I’m still gonna tag along. Just like old times.’

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Jacob saw himself running along the street. How he could tell it was him, he didn’t know. It was a small boy, maybe two years of age. He ran up to another boy and grabbed his hand. They walked a ways when he looked up at the other boy. His eyes were blue, then turned to yellow. He had fangs that touched his bottom lip. Jacob felt fear grip him, then a soothing calm. His eyes opened slowly and he looked around the ship. He tried to move, but found he was handcuffed to the post behind him. His gun lay just out of reach and he could feel the ship moving. He noticed there were gun cases in the previously empty cargo bay. X------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------X

Smith sat on the bridge with Bo as they soared through the black. He looked over at his friend and grinned. “You know we thought you were dead.” He said, shattering the silence. “You’re not that lucky.” Bo laughed. “Guess not. Have you seen Jess yet?” Bo shook his head. “River?” Bo stared forward and Smith had his answer. They soared through the black and watched the stars fly by.

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Her long black hair nearly brushed the ground as she bent and ran her fingers through the dirt. It was still warm from the engines of his ship. The katana at her side rattled in its sheath as she stood. “So, my runaway hound, you got a head start on me.” She said as she grinned. She turned to her motorcycle and straddled it with her long legs. As she revved its engine, she looked up into the dark night sky. “The bounty will be mine, but not until we deal with what lies between us Bo.”

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SO? Have I lost it? Did it suck? I’m sorry I disappeared but I had this horrible thing that blocked my writing in my brain. What’s that called again? Oh well. Did you notice though? The rocks here have no pattern, and we drove too fast to count them. Hummingbird. So, Bo’s back and has a new crew (plus one apparent prisoner) and a new threat it seems. Hold on because this new ride is just getting started.