Back on Opotan, Loosh had me pack up all of our belongings while she took the rod back to Onlan I assumed. I couldn't help feel a little pissed off that I was left packing and with my blood full of port and more recently whisky, I decided not to do it and wait until she got back.

The downside of kicking back on a sofa and enjoying the sun streaming in through the white linen curtains, was falling asleep.

One minute I was dozing, the next minute I was on the floor with a bag over my head and my wrists being roughly tied behind my back as heavy footfalls paced around me ripping the room apart.

After a few kicks to my ribs, someone grabbed the bag and used it to pull my head up from the floor.

"Where's the mage bitch and where's the Clearflow rod?"

"When I get free I'm going to enjoy killing you so much."

He punched me, letting my head fall to the floor for a double whammy before pulling it back again. "I'll ask again. Where's the mage bitch and where's the Clearflow rod?"

"She took it to her boss. All signed sealed and delivered. So you're shit out of luck."

He dropped my head and barked at others in the room. "Head to the transport tower. Spread out, keep an eye out for her. As soon as you find her bring her back here."

More clomping feet, but we definitely weren't alone. The voice in front of me spoke again. "Get him in a chair."

My mind was reeling. Fully sober now as the effects of alcohol just didn't stick in the same way these days, I plotted my next move. They'd done a hell of a job tying my wrists, so that was a dead end. My feet were still lose, thankfully. That was an option for later, once this bag was off.

"Whose your buyer?" The man growled, practically right in front of my face. I snapped my head forward and grinned as I felt the soft squish of nose followed by a yowl of pain.

I was hit around six or twenty times, I lost count somewhere after five. Whoever was throwing punches hit like a sledgehammer.

"Let's try that again," the voice said a little more distant this time.

"If you tell me I'll let you live. If you don't tell me, I'll take a foot, first."

"An Archon I blurted out as if I was scared. I never met them, I'm a direct hire for Malika, but definitely an Archon.

"Which house?"

"I just said I don't know." The man stood and took a step back. "Take his foot."

"Wait, I pleaded. "I'm a good fighter. I haven't even been paid properly yet, just fell on hard times. You guys not need a strong hand?"

"A level 17? Hardly a prize for the boss now is it?"

"I could help you with Malika. If you need information I might be able to get it from her."

"Like I'd trust you if you're willing to turn on your current employer that fast."

"Why do you work for your employer," I asked.

The guy didn't have an answer.

"Is it because you're scared of him? Love him? Or is it the money?"

He punched me again, and again, and then a couple more times for good measure. The chair topped over and as I thunked against the floor I felt the tender brush of the curtains caress my bald head.

I was right next to the window, and the beating this guy was giving me was probably far harder than what the ground would offer.

Someone hauled me back upright, then stepped back a dozen paces. I could still feel that breeze coming in through the window to my left and my attacker was walking back and forth, tutting and commenting on my unwillingness to communicate. I timed his footsteps on the creaking wooden floorboards and just before he spun on his heel at the furthest point away from the window. I bunched my feet and lunged toward the breeze, staggering, with the awkward position from the chair. I tripped on a small table, staggered some more, somehow kept moving forward and as I felt that brush of curtain, that increase in volume form the street, the stoke of a grasping hand across my back, I leapt for all I was worth.

Then I was in freefall, spinning around with no way to see how long I had until the ground would come up to meet me and that might have been a good thing.

When I landed, the hood filled with dust that stuck to the blood in my eyes, up my nose, everywhere really. And that was the positives.

The chair broke along with my left arm. How I didn't break my fucking back with the way I landed on the chair I'll never know.

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People were screaming. I would have done anything to be able to see, but sometimes life is a piece of shit. I roared for someone to pull the hood off, but no one would. Not at first.

When it was finally removed I was looking up into the eyes of Loosh.

"They found you then?"

"No. This is how I get my fucking kicks when I'm alone."

"We better move." She cut the ropes round my wrists, then helped me up.

Armed guards were arriving now and the men who were about to run out into the street and finish the job, slowly faded back into the dark doorway of our home.

"What's going on here," one of the guards barked as they came to a halt in front of us. Loosh pointed to the house. "Gangsters. They attacked my servant seeking to rob me."

"When I didn't give them what they wanted they threw me out the window," I said in pained voice, which wasn't hard.

"You should get that looked at," he said pointing to my arm as if I didn't already know. "Come back with us and we'll have it looked at while you answer some questions."

"Ask the people on the street," Loosh gestured. "I'll heal his arm once we're safe."

"You will be safe with us."

"I don't think so," she said backing away.

"Better if you just come."

She shook her head. "If you make sure the building is clear we will stay there. It's better for Joren to rest at home. You can come in and ask your questions there."

Another guard came up. "The locals are saying he was thrown from the window sir. They've Been here five cycles and never caused no trouble till today.

The captain eyed us with caution. "Very well. Stay here. But we will leave a guard tonight in case there is any more trouble."

Loosh nodded. "That's very thoughtful of you. We appreciate the kindness."

The guard frowned, but Loosh was already jostling me to follow.

Inside was trashed but empty of arseholes. She led me upstairs, but didn't stop at my floor, instead I was guided all the way to the fourth floor where she slept. I hadn't actually been in her quarters yet.

They'd been trashed too, but more just things thrown about rather than smashed up.

"Sit there," she said pushing me on the bed.

She disappeared for a few minutes and returned with two broken chair legs which she laid next to me. From her dresser she produced bandages, and then came to sit next to me. "I can't believe you were thrown from a window, Earl. I'm sorry that happened to you."

"I wasn't thrown. I jumped."

She looked at me with wild eyes. "With a bag on your head, tied to chair?"

"Yep. Did the maths and reckoned it was the better of two evils. I reckoned the floor wouldn't hit as hard as the dickhead punching me. I was mostly right. Just hit the floor at a funny angle."

She chuckled. "How could you not land at a funny angle tired to a chair with a bag on your head? I'll splint this first, then try to heal it a little. I think I have some vodka somewhere to numb the pain."

She headed off again, returning with a large bottle of clear liquid. I took my first swig, and she held out her hand for a drink afterward.

"You think we're safe here?" I asked.

Smacking her lips from the burn she passed the bottle back and shrugged. "Not for long, but the guards will watch tonight and if we stay up here together, they'll have a hard job getting to us so we might as well make it look like we're innocent and leave in our own good time. No one up to mischief would hang around in those circumstances. When they question us, we can tell the guards what happened at Nirrin's. Let them know we don't think the city is safe for us before we leave. I'd like to keep the house and our rep here in good standing if possible."

"Whatever you say, boss." I took another slug.

"Onlan set me onto another lead when I was back at the Perch so I think we'll follow that for a half dozen cycles and see if this blows over. It means setting up a new home in Lasital which is a freezing hell hole, but it won't be forever." She took the bottle back.

"So away from Peralt and his goons?"

"Yep. For a bit at least."

"Yeah, well, about that."

She raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

"I need to kill the men he sent."

She frowned. "You really don't. If you go down that path they won't stop until they've killed you."

I shook my head. "In that case, I won't stop until I've killed Peralt so he can't keep sending people after me. Where does he live?"

She laughed, took another swig, then eyed me with a disbelieving expression as I waited for an answer.

"Peralt is not our target, and for good reason. He's a multi-planetary gang lord. He's one of the major players in this merchant game we're playing, worse he's heavily involved in the black market slave trade. All I can say is, don't worry too much about his overall outlook. The Breaker has her watchful eye on him and he will be dealt with in time. Now is not that time."

I shrugged and drank more. I wasn't going to argue about it. Those fuckers had put me in a position I didn't appreciate and they had to pay. I wouldn't be able to settle until they did.

I noticed she was watching me carefully. "You're still thinking about going after them aren't you?"

I held the bottle to my chest full of mock offense. "Me? I'm not thinking about doing anything. That my dear Malika would involve uncertainty. I'm going to find and fucking murder the men who attacked me. If you say that'll bring Peralt after me, then I'll kill that bastard too. There's no if's no but's just the guaranteed repayment of debts owed."

She slapped her forehead. "I knew you'd be like this. It wasn't personal, Joren."

"It was to me."

She seemed to struggle with my response. She opened her mouth to reply a few times before snapping it shut, no doubt seeing the futility of trying to divert me. After a few false starts she finally settled. Here eyes hardened, and she looked directly at me. "I know you won't rest until you get your revenge, so how about this. Complete this mission with me first, and then I'll help you. With the Siroth networks and backing even if Peralt came after us you'd have a chance. Without that, you're just another dead body and you don't even know it yet."

I didn't like the insinuation that I couldn't do it alone. I lived for grudges. I was ready to tell her to eat shit, and that I was done. But the words wouldn't come.

Since coming here, things had changed. I had dreams again. I could get stronger. I could live longer. My violent past wasn't looked on with quite the same distaste as it was on Earth. Plus, I still had to fight this Stormfront fella.

I scratched my bald head, rubbed my tired face, pushed down the embarrassment and shame of being captured like an idiot. Realized I was more angry at myself for being an idiot rather than the men who'd caught me and then I nodded. "I'll wait for you. But you better help me."

To my utter surprise, despite our earlier dalliances, she leaned forward and kissed me on the head. "It sounds fun. I'm due a holiday and that sounds like an excellent way to spend a few weeks."

I felt a warm fuzzy feeling inside that I wasn't sure I'd felt before. It wasn't love, part of me still wanted to break her neck for all the annoying things she did, but it was… kinship? Understanding? I didn't fucking know, but I liked it.

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