What's Past is Prologue

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

SIX MONTHS AFTER: Lonliness


To an outside observer, Adelaide had not changed all that much over the past six months. If one had seen her then, sitting in the bar of "The Jewelled Ithorian" they would have seen her much as she is now - only looking a little better kept and not quite so pallid. She still had, however, that haunted look about her, especially in the eyes. A restless and uneasy quiet in her expression, as if she was just barely holding on. Which was, in fact, the actual truth of the matter.

While Novus Kota had been a lifeline to a drowning woman - taking her into his protection and training her how to fight, (as only those who've lived and prospered on the mean streets of Ord Mantell know how to) - He had not been able to banish to relentless grief and obsessive need for retribution her personal loss had possessed her of. He had, in his wisdom, nurtured it instead.

His training had been therapeutic. The gruelling daily workouts were both physically empowering and mentally restorative. Adelaide gradually clawed her way back out from depression, channelling her anger and hurt through endless rounds of boxing, weightlifting, cardio, hand-to-hand fighting, into a productive and focused objective. Adelaide was preparing to kill a man. And, in a short time, a days' time in fact - she would be leaving Ord Mantell to go find that man. To kill that man.

The last session with Novus had been particularly strenuous. He had pushed her hard, to the point of breaking. He'd wanted to see her crack, to loose her cool and make mistakes. He'd taunted her, mocked her and even though she understood what he was doing, she felt herself growing angry with him for doing it. She'd thrown him in a move that counter-balanced her own weight against his so that her smaller frame and his were equalized and the difference in strength was momentarily negated. She'd followed up with a fist to his throat, stopping just short of a blow that could have crushed his larynx. Kota had laughed, pleased with her performance, but Adelaide had only asked if they'd finished for the night.

Stepping now from the refresher, after having eaten a solid meal and washed it down with a cool beer, Del brushed her teeth and crawled into bed.

"Only one more night to go...It's going to be good to finally play the role of the hunter." She rolled into the curve of his back and wrapped her arm affectionately over him. The familiar smell of him made her murmur contentedly and as she smiled, her lips brushed his skin. "Y'know I was already asleep, woman" he said with mock irritance. "Liar" she answered, "You snore when you sleep, Aurelias"

The morning came quickly, as it always did and Adelaide dressed with methodic calmness.

Next stop, Imperial Center and the Russard Estate.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

He was still gettin' himself together a bit. Sure it'd helped he'd been given some time off t'figure out what th'frack was goin' on, but it didn't really matter t'him. It was time t'get goin'. Time for Kazaar t'say to hell with everything that'd been going on. The lies and cheatin'. All th'crap that th'Empire'd pulled, that'd been said to 'im by members o'the Alliance (Hey, thanks f'saving us. Now get some rest and don't worry 'bout hunting th'bitch down. Just rest'n relax). Feh, like that was gonna happen.

So Kazaar was pounding 'way on th'bag again. Pretendin' it was everyone he hated. Palpatine. Tarkin (may his ionized bones never rest either. Hope his frackin' ghost haunts th'new Emperor till th'end o'time). Gorgja, to a degree. Haman (horny bastard).

Crei...Always Crei. Albino was th'kinda guy who gnawed at 'is chest from time t'time. Fact he'd taken his son hurt 'im bad. Fact he's manipulated Delly, hurt too. Even if he and 'The Kid' were gettin' long just fine...he hated guys who manipulated dames. Wasn't right. One reason why some o'his punches were directed at th'Black Man too. That guy was a right bastard as well. But always came back t'Crei. He hafta do something 'bout it at some point. Kazaar towelled himself off and headed into th'show. Hell yeah...he'd do something 'bout it.

He got outta th'shower, takin' a moment t'stare at th'mirror and th'scars he'd gotten. Helluva lotta of 'em. And most of 'em were earned. 'Least that's what th'former bounty hunter told himself. Kazaar shook his arms an' walked into his den, taking a moment t'plop down on th'couch and stare up at th'ceiling.

And it was all how it should be. Delly walked in a moment later, smiling that smile as only she could. It was different than Ash, but that really didn't matter. It still got to 'im, th'way few women could.

Kazaar smiled back. Actually smiled. Was nice t'be 'round her. She was a good girl who'd saved him. Saved him like Estelle had. Like Ash had. Kept 'im from spiralling into a dark depression that was only solved (and help 'long) by booze. Was nice t'see her. She was lookin' good too.

"You snore when you sleep, Aurelias." She was one o'the few who he'd listen to 'bout that.

"Feh...like ya don't either, Delly." He kissed 'er, savoring her scent, feelin' her softness. Was pretty nice. They tangled together on th'bed and felt each other.

He woke up later on, rubbin' his eyes and picking up a cigar. There were people who had t'fracking pay. And Kazaar was th'kinda guy t'make sure they got it. And then some.

Bren...this is f'you, pal. Might never o'known ya. But Crei's gonna die.

[Jason Russard]

The day had been a long one. And tiring. The pressure for developing a new and improved line of combatwear for Project Nightmare's elite was making Jason loose sleep at night. And go grey through the day. There was never enough time, and the pressure from the Inquisitors to show them something new was beginning to really wear on him. He rubbed his tired eyes until they watered. Jason reclined himself into the depths of the large, overstuffed leather chair he was sitting in and allowed himself a moment to enjoy the small comforts - a comfortable home, a good brandy, the crackling of a warm fire. It was the solace of a solitary man, unfortunately. Though the house was full of people, his father in his own suites upstairs, Lissell the old man's nurse attending him, servants, cooks, valets...He missed Estelle, his daughter, who was making her own way in the world. And, funny he should think of her tonight, Jason missed his wife, who - he could hardly believe - had passed away fifteen years ago this month. The brandy was good, it burned a little as it went down.

The door behind him opened, and Joshua in his crisp doorman voice announced a visitor. Jason pushed himself up and stood, surprised a little as he had not been expecting anyone. His surprise increased alarmingly, however, as Adelaide was ushered in.

"I had hoped not to see you this soon" he said, greeting her with obvious mixed feelings. She looked....not bad. Oh, she was attractive, no question and her eyes were every bit as compelling as he remembered. But she still had that broken look about her, and it made him very uneasy.
"I take it, this is not just a social visit?" he asked, hoping very much that by some miracle that it was.

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

"Hello Jason" she said, the faintest shadow of a smile touched her eyes.

Jason Russard had proven an unlikely ally to Adelaide. He had been there for her when her son was taking his last, frail breaths. He had stood in the background, yet been close enough to offer the comfort of his quiet company - a precious consolation from such a gentle man. And Adelaide had been so grateful for it. Jason, such a contrast to the volitile, hardheaded man who was her husband, ex-husband, who at the time had been laying unconscious, recovering from a terrible battering he'd received from his confrontation of the Albino. In the end, it had been Jason and not Aurelias who truly had gotten her through that last, desolate night of Bren's passing.

Kazaar had not even gotten the chance to see Bren. Or, taken the chance, as Del was, over time, beginning to suspect. It was easier for Aurelias to be beat within an inch of his life, than look the loss of his own future in the eyes. Such bitter thoughts. Such bitter times.

This was the first time Adelaide had been back to the Russard Estate since those events all took place. She felt a little awkward, out of her element, which was not surprising given she'd spent the last six months in such rough company on Ord Mantel. Here, with the glowing fire and the crystal brandy glasses, Del felt very much an intruder.

Jason must have sensed her unease, for he came over and took her hand.
"Are you tired? Have you come a long way?" he queried.

"You know how far I've come, Jason" Adelaide responded, allowing Jason to lead her over to the fire to get warm. "I know you've been keeping tabs on me.."

Russard had the good grace to colour slightly at her words, for she spoke rightly. Since he had left her on Brentaal, Jason had kept a close watch on her movements - out of concern, nothing more. Or so he told himself.
"So, did you come alone?" he asked, trying not to act too interested with her reply, and failing.

"Yes" she said simply. "You know why Im here?" she asked, it was almost a challenge.

"Yes" It was Jason's turn to answer simply.

They both looked into the fire, allowing the moment to draw out. After this, there would be no turning back for either of them. After this, nothing would ever be the same. Adelaide turned her gaze to look at Jason, her eyes candid and with no apology in them. He had made her a promise back on Brentaal and she intended to hold him to his word. After a time, Jason met her stare, and Adelaide saw in his eyes that he would be good for it.

[Jason Russard]

Jason stood beside her, speaking with her quietly regarding things he knew, tasks that yet needed to be done to expedite her plan. Surprising himself, he spoke with a calm he did not feel. Inside he squirmed, not completely convinved he was doing the right thing, helping Adelaide in this way, yet knowing he was bound by a promise made with sincere desire to help.

Of course, there would be fall out, consequences. Not the least of which would be a probable irate ex-ex-husband (who tended towards solving differences of opinions with violence as opposed to good, healthy discussions). Jason did not relish that particular, inevitable, confrontation with Kazaar, but that was not the sum of it. There was his father...would this be considered another foolhardy act? Jason the Elder had already hinted to his son that he was getting too involved. All these things, yet the real worry was not for himself - it was for Adelaide. She was hell-bent on the road she was taking, and Jason could not but expect it to end badly. Even if she were successful, and looking at her slight frame now he had his doubts, the price her own spirit would pay would be monumental. One did not prepare and carry out a plan to cold-bloodedly kill another and not pay a weighty toll in one's soul. It wasn't possible, nature had made it so.

He looked at Del now, a certain pity touching him. She had lost so much, yet she did not understand that she could still yet loose so much more.

"You dont have to go through with this, Adelaide. You know that, dont you?"

She didn't bother even lifting her head from gazing into the flames.

"When can we get started?" she asked, deliberately ignoring his question.

"I have some things to finish up here first, and then we will go for a ride" he replied softly, sadly.

"Good"

He said, "You can use your room upstairs while you wait..." The room she'd used when Bren was last here, struggling for life. He suddenly felt very awkward for making the suggestion knowing that was exactly what she was remembering, and hurried on, assuring her, "I wont be too long."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Coruscant: The Skydome Botanical Gardens

"Ya know Cochran." Kazaar puffed away onna cigar, ignoring th'orders he'd been given by th'Rebellion doc t'take it easy on the booze and tobacco forra while. "I got all night. Well..." He smirked. "'Least until th'guards come back from their break. Which means...we got six hours. So." His black eyes narrowed t'almost slits as he stared at th'man he was holdin' by one leg offa a ledge. "Where's Crei?"

Cochrane was green-skinned Rodian who doubled as one o'Crei's low-level enforcers. Never amounted t'much but f'some reason th'Albino liked 'im. His eyes widened as th'wind shifted 'round his body. "I-I-I-I-I...swear I d-d-d-d-don't know Kazaar!" His bulbous eyes rolled 'round in his skull. "H-he-he-he's gone uh-underground!"

"That a fact?" Th'former bounty hunter smirked. Someone else'd told him a while ago th'exact same thing. Kazaar wasn't sure 'bout it then (even if Haman wasn't a part o'Crei's normal circle o'scum) and he wasnt' believing it now. "Convince me Cochrane."

Th'Rodian's arms came up inna almost shrug, almost beg. "I s-s-s-swear! I don't know." Then he did one o'the dumbest things Kazaar'd ever seen. He spat on th'hunter's shirt. Lotta people don't it before. Just not a lotta people hanging 'bout 50 stories upside down.

Kazaar's eyes blazed forra moment, then he shrugged. "Whatever ya say Cochrane. M'arm's gettin' fracking tired and I ain't in th'mood t'deal with ya right now."

Hope sprung in Cochrane's eyes. "So you're letting me go?"

A smirk. "Inna way." Then he let go o'the Rodian's leg.

With a scream Cochrane fell five stories before th'rope tied 'round his ankles went taut. Crei's low level enforcer screamed, whimpered, and begged f'mercy. Kazaar only smirked. "Be back inna bit Cochrane. I'm hungry." His head disappeared, only t'reappear seconds later. "Oh yeah...don't frackin' go anywhere."

Chucklin' to himself, Kazaar strode off th'roof and headed t'get some grub. When he came back an hour later, Cochrane was only happy t'tell 'im what he knew.

[Old Man Russard]

"You sure you know what'y're doin?"

The old man's voice reached out to his son who had just passed the open door frame after having seen Adelaide to her room. Jason the Younger stopped in place, deliberating momentarily as to whether to continue down the hallway and ignore his father's question and the obvious doubts the old man had, or not. Jason looked down, his patent leather shoes gleaming against the dark florals of the thick hall carpet and sighed heavily. There was no point avoiding what were only the same thoughts he himself had been having. He back-stepped to his father's doorway.

"I think so" he said, more weary than uncertain, though it was a close thing to distinguish the two. "Its better to help her than have her try this alone. She will do it either way - you know that as well as I do."

The old man held his son with peircing blue eyes, his inner thoughts vying for expression, yet being held in check with a steeled discipline honed through years of dealing with lesser men who thought they knew better. In truth, Jason Russard Senior felt a small pity for his son. Despite what the younger man may think, he understood what his son was going through, knew the struggle of conscience and the decision borne from lack of having any other options. It had, many years ago, been a woman and her predicament that was the reason the old man, and a then younger Millard had parted company on less than amicable terms.

"You could be the loser in all this" the Old Man warned, not unkindly. "If she succeeds, she'll likely not thank you in the end."

Jason the Younger waivered in the door frame, unsure whether to enter or not. "I...That's not why I'm doing it" he protested.

"Hah!" The old man guffawed. "Dont take me for an idiot, son. A man is only truly ever a fool when it's a woman involved" He wheeled his chair around and gave him the full benefit of a hard stare. "Dont ever kid yourself like that Jason, it makes a man too vunerable"

Jason stepped through the threshhold and into the room, moving over to admire the books lined along the walls of his father's study. He found it hard to look into those blue eyes and not feel completely exposed, bad enough that his father was right. "Am I making a mistake?" he asked quietly needing affirmation.

The Old Man smiled remembering his own experience and replied, almost as softly and with no hint of regret, "No. You're doing the only thing you can do." His son looked at him curiously, not fully comprehending the history behind the response yet sensing something deeper beyond the words..

"Just be sure to remember that, Jason, that you could do nothing else.." his father added, returning to his brusque manner, "..when it all goes to hell."

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

Adelaide stood on the balcony of her room, hoping to find relief from the claustrophobia the memories of her surroundings engendered.

Behind her, the french doors creaked slightly, the breeze having picked up in strength and making them sway gently. Fluttering shear curtains tickeled at her ankles as she leaned on the railing looking out over the night-blooming ivies of the Russard Estate. Such a tranquil vista. Even though the colors were diffused in the evening light, she recalled the green hedges that surrounded the grounds, the climbing vines that dressed the building walls like a neatly trimmed beard. A graceful civilized surround, hard to believe it could be associated with so much hurt.


Only the strong arms that now wrapped around her could hold the sadness at bay, harnessing it back into the shadows and pinning it there. It was a momentary respite, but welcome none the less. Kazaar nuzzled over her shoulder to tickle her cheek with his grizzled face - a three-day growth, at the least, Del wagered.
"I wasn't expecting you to come" she said, folding her hands over his. "You always know when I need you the most."
She felt him nod his agreement.
"I've always been able to read ya like a map, Delly" He murmured. "But I cant stay long, I've got work t'do"
He always had work to do. That had always been the problem. Well, the kind of work, anyway. And who he did it for..
After a time, his arms slipped from her, silent in their exit.


She stood there for some time and the moon came out from behind a cloud causing the dew on the grass to sparkle in its light. Adelaide didn't recall hearing the door behind her, but turning, she saw Jason had now entered the room.

"I knocked, but there was no response...." he stated, a semi-apology for letting himself in.

"I didn't hear you" Del said a little absently. "The grounds are so pretty here Jason" she remarked, stepping from outside into the bright glow of the room.

Jason observed, "Pretty...yes." Sheesh, why did he find it hard to speak when she looked at him? "Sorry I took so long" he struggled on, "There was more work than I thought. Are you ready to go?"

Adelaide picked up her jacket from off the chinz settee.
"More than ready" she said.

More than ready.

[Jason Russard]

The journey was conducted in a strained sort of detante'. Seated opposite one another in the rear of the company limosine, Russard and Adelaide exchanged polite conversation, made awkward because of the huge white elephant in company with them. Crei was foremost on the both of their minds, although, Jason found his focus wandering repeatedly to the refined features of Adelaide's profile as she looked out the window at the world speeding past. He marvelled at the graceful line of her chin, the gentle sloping of her throat and the pulse that was visibly beating beneath her silken skin.

They were in the heart of CoCo now and would be for the next thirty minutes before Nigel would turn east toward the "Dirge" neighbourhoods. Crei was not living the high-profile life he had formerly enjoyed - at least, not openly. He had the good sense to know Aurelias would recover and relentlessly hunt him down. It would come as a surprise to find it was Adelaide who should get to him first.

Jason had many friends in many circles within the Empire. Men and women and aliens of all walks who benefited from Russard Industries influence and attendance. And there were twice as many who knew, and owed, his father. Jason the Younger had left no opportunity untapped, uncourted or unthreatened in his quest to locate the wayward Albino on Adelaide's behalf. His good name had allowed him to step through many doors, his money had kept such visitations discreet. He had not liked the affiliations he had courted, but he had not balked at them either. There was more of the old man in Jason Russard than might be appreciated at face value.

Jason spoke as they drew closer to their destination, "Crei's new abode is nothing like the mansion your husband destroyed"

"Ex-husband" Del corrected, incorrectly.

"Well, yes, Ex....Anyway," Jason continued with an unconscious scratch of his forehead. "...it is a dismal, appalling tenement building designed to keep an innocuous profile, but inside it is a sophisticated place with very good security. You will have to be careful."

Adelaide gave him a cold look, "I know how to handle myself, Jason. I know you find that hard to believe, but Im not the same person you knew"

Jason nodded, not knowing how to respond. He was sorry to hear her talk this way. Sorry that it was probably the honest truth.

She looked away, back out the window - clearly her thoughts were for one individual alone.

Jason leaned back against the leather seat, his own gaze falling likewise to the world outside. He thought, none of us are the people we knew.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

And he smiled while Delly handed 'im a drink. She'd been trying t'get 'im to cut back again, somethin' th'Kid'd done as well. "It's not worth it, Aurelias." Delly's tone showed plenty o'concern. "I'm worried what you might do."

Th'smile turned into a smirk. "I told ya, I know what I'm doin'." Th'way he said it wasn't t'be rude and his ex-ex-wife knew it. "Ain't been drinking much as I was. Down t'two a day."

"It should be one or better, yet, none, Aurelias." Her voice was steadfast. "Your job is dangerous enough as it is. I don't want you to be like Fokton, who spends more time drunk than he does sober."

"Hah!" Kazaar took o'swig o'bourbon. "Delly, ya know I ain't gonna let m'self do that." He felt her hand rub 'gainst his face. She always liked doin' that...never complained 'bout him 'forgettin' t'shave from time t'time. She really was pretty frackin' easy going. He smirked...what th'frack had he done t'deserve her?


"Hey Kazaar!" Cochrane yelled. "You gonna let me down?"

"Ya sure Yan Pinkston knows were Crei is?"

"I told you, you bastard, Pinkston talks to Cre all the time." The Rodian's eyes were buggin' out. "He meets him every week to discuss business. Pinkston's become his number one guy! All I knows is Pinkston's at the Fallowhole right now. Real nice place, Kazaar. Buncha naked females walking around." Cochrane nodded his head as if to emphasize the point. "He'll take you to the Albino.

"Now please." Cochrane's hands were clasped together begging. "Let me go!"

Th'bounty hunter smirked and reached for th'rope. "Sure thing pal. I'll let ya 'go'."

He was pretty sure if Cochrane's eyes coulda gotten any bigger they would've. "No no! Not like that Kazaar!" Cochrane screamed as th'human's gloves hands started untyin' the rope. "Let me...." Crei's low level enforcer's screams died out as he plumetted 20 stories into th'gardens.

Kazaar smirked. Nozzlehead shoulda asked 'im t'pull him up before asking t'be let go. 'Course, then he probably woulda shot Cochane instead o'makin' it look like he was trying t'bungee jump. That's what happens when ya get on th'spice too much. Ya tend t'forget t'be specific in what ya want. Oh well...that frackin' idiot's loss.

Kazaar stuck o'cigar in his mouth an' lit it. Time t'find this Pinkston fella then on t'the Albino. Th'soon t'be dead Albino.

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

"Circle round again" Adelaide instructed, and Nigel obediently made the turn.

Jason was a little concerned as the limosuine was not the usual type of vehicle that frequented this area and a lingering presence would be easily noted. "You can let me out at the cross-section a block back from Crei's place" she added, thinking the same thing.

"Are you--" Jason was going to ask if she was sure that wise, but caught himself in time. He had to stop questioning her judgement, at least out loud. She wasn't going to listen to him anyway. "Are you going in tonight then?" he asked instead.

"After you shut down the power grid" she replied.

"After I what?"

"You have controlling interest in Imperial Center Electrics dont you?" Adelaide asked, though clearly she already knew the answer.

"Well, yes, ICE is a subsidiary of Russard Industries, but--" he began, haltingly, however, Del cut him short before he got to the expected protest.

"...So then you shut the grid down. It has to be the whole block. Just isolating Crei's joint would be too obvious."

Jason frowned, not liking the idea she saw, so Adelaide persuaded him, "Just for an hour. Say its some sort of malfunction. I just need a small window of time to get in, Jason. And that will be where your involvement ends" she cajoled. "You are doing nothing illegal - just running a systems check or you had a sabotage threat from some conscious objector nutcase or something. Anything. The reason doesn't matter, it just has to be feasible so the Albino doesn't go on red alert. Here!" she directed Nigel and the limo pulled to a stop.

Adelaide took Jason's hand and gave it a squeeze, "Thank you for this, Jason" she said, looking him in the eye and saw his face soften under her gaze. "I wont ever forget it. You are doing more for me, and Bren, than you could ever know." She released her grasp and opened the vehicle door, "I wont move until the power's down. When Im done" and they both knew what she meant by that, "I'll either be in touch, or...I wont." And again, that needed no explaining. If she succeeded, Jason would see her again soon. If she failed, well, she'd already said it, hadn't she?"

"Good luck" he called after her, but she didn't hear. She was already too far gone.

[Old Man Russard]

Sometime later..

Jason was hitting the Scotch a little hard tonight, the old man thought.

It was not uncommon, of course, to come home from a long day and an even longer night and feel the need to unwind, to take a load off. The old man had done so many times himself in his lifetime. It was just unusual for his son to do so. And with such gusto. It was not like him.

"You'll want to save some for the servants" he called with sarcasm to Jason over his shoulder, "Im certain ol' Millie helps herself to a nightcap when she thinks we're all tucked in of an evening" Millicent was the Cook and had a fondness for breadrolls and baked goods, as her ample girth attested too. She also appreciated a fine aged malt, Lissell his nurse had 'almost' caught her on many occassions.

Jason the Younger did not respond, but only leaned a little heavier against the fireplace mantle. Alarms went off inside his father's head, but they were not unexpected. Adelaide's arrival earlier had meant alarms were inevitable.

"Atleast take yourself a seat, son" he advised with annoyance, irked at the fact his son was feeling so sensitive rather than that he'd perhaps done something a bit rash. "The sky isn't about to fall" he added, turning back to watch the late evening news on GNN..

".......THE BLACKOUT IN THE DIRGE DISTRICT WAS A PRECURSOR TO NUMEROUS BREAK-INS AND ACTS OF VIOLENCE IN THE AREA, CRIMINALS TAKING THE OPPORTUNITY OF SECURITY INTERRUPTIONS AND THE COVER OF DARKNESS TO PLY THEIR VARIOUS TRADES OF ILL-GOTTEN GAIN.."

"Who writes this crap?" the Old Man interjected.

"I---er--I...." his son's dismal attempt to offer an answer drew Jason the Elder's attention. He looked from the news to where Jason leaned against the mantle and back again, his frown deepening in suspicion. He forewent pressing his son, who had gone very quiet and very still with his ear attuned to the news report.

"...........HOWEVER, THE ICPD STATES THERE WAS NO LOSS OF LIFE, BUT ONLY OF PROPERTY. AND, TO QUOTE AN ICPD DETECTIVE, KAJEELA TARRUURRI: "RRRESSSJIDENTSSS OF THJISSS DJISSSTRRRJICT ARRRE USSSED TO SSSUCH ANARRRCHJIAL OUTBRRREAKSSS. THE ICPD ARRRE ALWAYSSS QUJICK TO RRRESSSPOND"

"Lord, they got Cizeracks running the Police Force now?" The Old Man cried. This town really was going to heck.

Jason poured another drink and the old man switched channels thinking, "There aint gonna be nothin' left for Millie."

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

It had taken Jason a heck of a long time to pull the necessary rank and have the power shut off. So long, in fact, Adelaide had feared he would not do it at all. She had credited the younger Russard patriach with being tougher than he looked, had credited him with having the kona's to keep his word when he gave it. For a short, fearful time Adelaide worried that she'd been wrong.

She shivered, curled up in a dank alleyway semi-hidden beneath a discarded cardboard box like any one of the numerous homeless beings that haunted the Dirge district. Fighting the awful stench that seemed to seep from the grimey ground up, she had been trying to think of an alternative approach to getting in Crei's apartments, when she'd noticed a surge in the humming of the overhead power links and then the alley and its surrounds had been plunged into darkness.

It had only taken moments for the first windows to be smashed. The lower levels of the buildings were barred, but some of the ones higher up were simply locked and electronically secured. Adelaide moved quickly. Nova had taught her the street-smarts of entering secured buildings, and she pulled a small kit from her coat. Its contents would be familiar items to any thug burgler - or bored Ord Mantell teen, for that matter. Some small tools for picking locks, opening power boxes, some wire, some steel cutters, even a small plastic explosive. However, these all proved for the moment, unnecessary.

Some one else beat her into the Albino's building. It was a window on the 4th floor, smashed, and Adelaide found it simply because she had been looking for the best entrance spot and a local thief ahead of her had been thinking the same thing. But that is where the similarity of their plans ended. Contrary to her her friend, Adelaide moved like a ghost to climb silently over the sill and move through the darkness. She had seen the shadowy bulk of her unwitting companion, sihloetted darkly against the darker interior, running his hands over various items within Crei's living room. She slipped silently behind the nearest door and just as she passed into the next room, she heard another door open into the living room and a blaster discharge rapidly four times. The thud of the burgler's body was muffled through the now closed door, the footfalls of security men and their voices more imagined than actually heard, but Adelaide didn't need to hear to know. Crei's men would have the intruder bagged up and disposed of within minutes. Enough time and distraction for her to get hidden and wait until the moment of her choosing, when, after the power came back on, a search conducted and the lights blazed brightly, the Albino would feel safe once again. The light of a different kind would be turned to darkness.

Crei would die at her hand, and he would see her coming, he would know who it was that took everything from him, just as he had taken it from her.

Secured now in what was the Albino's bedroom, Adelaide hid in the egomaniac's closet, her arms slipped into a rich fur robe hanging with in its depths. She would wait and savor these moments. She would let them be her breath, her courage, her patience.

She was so close now. She thought of Kazaar and wondered where he was. She thought of Bren, she thought of Bren..

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"C'mon Spenny, pick up." Kazaar was 'cross th'street from th'Fallowhole watchin' a buncha patrons get shoved out 'cause some kinda private party was going on. He counted six aliens an' four humans givin' people th'heave-ho, but none of 'em appeared t'be a leader o'some point. And if Pinkston was like any other lowlife, he'd be sittin' in th'club enjoyin' a 'special lap dance' from some dancer, hopin' t'get more than 'just a peak'. Frackin' bastich...ruinin' all th'fun f'everyone else.

"Ka-Kazaar?" A tired voice came over th'comm.

"'Bout frackin' time, Spenny. I need information on a guy named 'Pinkston'."

"Pinkston? Aurelias, do you know what time is it here on Bespin? It's not healthy to get only four hours of sleep and then have to wo--"

"Shaddup Spenny and get me th'damn info. I'm starin' at ten guys but I don' think anyone of 'em are him."

He could hear Spendrim's fingers started *tapping* onna keyboard. "Oh Force, Aurelias. You're not going after Crei again are you? I don't blame you, don't get me wrong, but he's gone underground. I'm not even sure Pink-"

"Spenny, get me th'frackin' force-damned info or I'll come t'Bespin m'self and make sure ya ain't 'round t'see that damn grill of yas go 'smoking allowed'."

Kazaar smirked as he could hear Spenny cringe. "Yes Aurelias. Sending it to you now. Just...be careful. You've been hurt enough recently. I don't want you to--"

"Yeh, yeh Spenny thanks." Th'Rebel spy cut th'connection and took a look at Pinkston. Ain't that a kaffer. Turns out, Kazaar already knew who he was. Guy was a dead ringer f'one of those mad frackin' scientists. Bald, glasses, weird goatee. Always liked dressin' in suits t'look better than everyone else. 'Course th'fact he was a Cerean an' had that weird frackin' head meant he could plan several things at once. Not a bad thing t'have, 'course it did make ya more ovva target.

Kazaar glared at th'club again, trying t'figure out th'best way in. Direct fight'd be good, but that'd give Pinkston th'chance t'escape ('specially if he was gettin' a private dance). Back way'd work best, might be a couple guards but nothin' Kazaar couldn't handle. 'Sides, after he got th'info from Pinkston he could kill th'goons. Keep 'em from lettin' th'Albino know what was goin' on.

He crawled from his perch, then crossed th'street into th'back alley which served as th'rear entrance to th'Fallowhole. Th'sounds o'sex greeted 'im as Kazaar crept through th'darkness. Someone was havin' a good time. His black eyes spotted a Gran (who should be guardin' th'door, ya frackin' moron) playin' 'get t'know ya' with a human dancer. He almost considered takin' th'guy out, but figured it'd be best if he left the two 'lone. Let 'em have fun. Plenty o'time f'dying later on.

Kazaar pulled one of th'Th'Twins', his silver Bryar blasters, and slipped into th'back of th'club. Loud music pulsated through th'walls as he crouched near a pile o'beer boxes. No one in sight, not even a busboy. Guys must all be in front havin' fun. He kept movin' slowly, hoping t'not let anyone know he was 'round. Still nothin'. So far so good.

He slipped down o'corridor lined with doors. Pinkston had t'be in here somewhere, Kazaar smirked. Guess he oughta just listen for th'moans...there. He smirked again. Guess whoever Pinkston was hangin' with was givin' him a good time.

Th'hunter found th'right door and slipped in. Pinkston wasn't naked but his trousers were down by his ankles, while he patted a human female by th'head. A twi'lek, her lekku twirled 'round th'Cerean's finger, was busy feastin' on Pinkston's tongue. Kazaar allowed himself a chuckle and locked th'door.

"Ya know Pinkston, for a guy who's supposed t'be on th'up and up, ya sure do frackin' suck at security." He pointed his blaster at th'Cerean as th'dames scattered like fleas to a flame. "I wouldn't touch ya blaster if I was ya, Pinky. Ya don't wanna lose somethin' important right?" Kazaar gave an evil smirk and motioned for th'dancers t'get into one o'the adjoining rooms. Once that was taken care of, Kazaar locked th'door.

"Now that it's just us." Th'evil smirk stayed. "Let's talk 'bout ya boss. Where's Crei?"

*********************************

Charlie Basco was a low-level guy in Pinkston's crew, who was quickly starting to get even more recognition from his boss. A human, Basco not only was intelligent, he was also ambitious. Ambitious enough to realize the best way to move up, was to be the best damn low-level guy he could be. Nab a few scores, make sure he had more collection money than anyone else in the crew, and position himself to be Pinkston's 'Number Two guy' when the time was right. Even if he had a strange-looking head.

So color Basco surprised when he saw the two dancers, he distinctly remembered telling his boss would "knock his socks off", exit from the back room, looking all scared. That was really odd.

He approached the human dancer, "Lilly, did something happen?"

Lilly (which wasn't her real name, but Basco didn't care) had tears running down her cheeks. She'd seen a lot but never expected this. "B-big guy came in. Kicked us out. *sniff* He had a blaster and everything. And the look he gave Pinkston..." She clutched Basco's arm. "It was awful, Charlie, awful!"

Basco's eyes narrowed. "I'll go check it out. Stay here." Basco caught the eyes of a massive Whipid named 'Velt' and motioned for him to come with him to the back. Velt cocked his head, but when Basco was insistent, followed him towards the back.

"Something's up." Basco whispered when the two got in the back. "Lilly said a big guy interupted their 'session' with the boss."

He nodded at Velt's *growl*. "Yeah, I know, I thought Ree was on guard duty too. I swear if he was fooling around with Drea, I'm going to skull-frell him myself."

The door to Pinkston's room was unlocked and the two entered, hoping Lilly was only playing a trick on them. "Oh...FRACK!"

There was Crei's man, strung up like he was some kinda cattle on display. His massive head had been sliced open, with what was left of his brain...Basco didn't even want to know what'd happened here. It was like the Cerean had been...beyond torture. How the hell had this happened and how had he not heard it? "Get Bwedak." He ordered. "And someone let Crei know something's up."

As the Whipid left th'back room, Basco moved foward to investigate the body further. There was something strange about how Pinkston'd been placed. Sure there was a hole in his chest (a massive, fracking hole) but it seemed to be housing something. He heard Bwedak enter behind him, just as he placed his hands on Pinkston's chest.

B-O-O-O-M!!

Th'entire club shook as th'thermal detonator Kazaar'd stuck in th'Cerean went off. Kazaar was sendin' out death a second later, 'The Twins' singin' as only they could.

Pinkston's boys didn't even have a chance 'gainst th'vengeful bounty hunter. They all fell where they stood, as Kazaar ended their pathetic lives. One thug was able t'get his blaster out, only t'fall a moment later as two blaster bolts went through his head and chest. Another got shot in th'knee first, then twice in th'back as Kazaar made sure he couldn't run away. Th'gran Kazaar'd left alive outside was cut down as he tried t'figure out what was going on. No one got a warning out. Everyone who deserved t'be dead was dead.

'Cept for Kazaar. "All right girls, get th'frack outta here an' find better clubs t'work at."

He strode outta th'destroyed club, his black eyes narrowed. He didn't bother thinking 'bout how much death he'd caused. There was just one guy on his mind: Crei. And he knew where he was now.

[Kajeela Tarruurri]

Kajeela had expected a quiet night at the precinct. Chatter over the scanner had roused nothing out of the ordinary, calls were average for this time of the year and no big new players had been on the radar in quite some time.

It had been one of those shifts that had started with the promise of getting alot of paperwork done, maybe the picking up a few vagrants here or there to top up the drunk-tank and taking a short nap on her office sofa while her partner, Remkah, tapped out anecdotes on his computer as he compiled his memoirs. Tarruurri had told him he was too young to be planning a record of his life's story, Jonas had told her he didn't believe in waiting until the last minute to start.

A quiet night, that was what she had been expecting.

Instead, she was standing in Kimiiki Crei's living room watching the agitated Albino Crimelord stride from one corner of the room to the other in the throes of a very unattractive paranoid rant, wearing - mind you - an even more unattractive satin kimono that wasn't quite knotted modestly enough. The Cizerack stiffled a disgusted shudder.

"We can assssssurrre jyou, Mjisssterrr Creji" she interjected, "..jit was a powerrr ssssurrrge due to IC Electrrrjic ssswjitchjing thejirrr generrratorrrsss to manual overrrrrrjide jin a rrroutjine tesssstjing of thejirrr djisssasssterrr prrrotocolsss. A ssspokesssperrrsssson forrr the companjy prrromjisssed jit wasss a rrroutjine tessst wjith the sssmallessst of hjiccupsss. Yourrr powerrr wjill not go out agajin. Rrrecompensssesss wjill be made, the cossst of yourrr wjindow etceterra.."

Normally, a call of this nature would fall the ICPD beat cops. A power outage in the Dirge District did not warrent the attention of a senior detective, even the resulting vandalism and robberies in the district were not investigative material for the likes of Tarruurri. It was, however, the unbending will of Crei insisting on his highly placed connections within the Department that the threat to his personal security be taken most seriously and some one with some clout come down and see that everything that can be done, gets done. And there went Kajeela's uneventful shift along with Remkah's literary aspirations for the night.

Crei was wound tight. He didnt believe in co-incidences. He didn't assume things out of the ordinary were just life's status quo and that there was no other entity at work other than chance. He questioned everything. It was what made him such a shrewd and cunning individual and had kept him so elusive from those who'd sought to find him. Kajeela, for one, who's suspicions of the Albino's links to the ICPD heirachy had made him a recent target for her off-the-record and lowkey investigations of Department corruption. And there was Aurelias Kazaar for another, the devillishly handsome bounty hunter Tarruurri had the good fortune of tussling with on Tatooine.

Her mind drifted a while and a cheshire smile played along her lips, giving Crei pause in his resumed tirade so that he burned his red, beady eyes on her.

"You think this is funny, Detective?" he asked, saturnine.

"Not at all, Mjisssterrr Creji" her smile disolved into a professional compressing of her mouth.

"Your superiors would not like to hear that you treated my predicament so cavalierly" his tone had taken on a saccharine edge.

Her superiors would not like to hear a lot of things...and in due time, Kajeela would have a case built against them on which to declare them. But, tonight was not for that. She had located the notorious Albino atlast through this stroke of good luck and the Electric company's ineptitude - and in the near future, she would come back and get some answers that had been kept from her. She may even bring Aurelias Kazaar along with her as a treat.

"The ICPD hasss been verry thrrrough" she responded. "Yourrr own securrrjity took carrre of yjourrr jintrrruderrr, wjith excessssssjive forrrce, jI mjight add, and the arrrea jis bejing patrrroled assss we ssspeak. The patrrrolsss wjill contjinue all njight, wjith men statjioned at all fourrr corrrnerrrs of jyour bujilding and on the rrrooof."
What a waste of manpower, she thought inwardly. Outwardly, she continued, "jYou'rrre alarrrm sjysssstem jis actjive agajin. jYou arrre qujite sssafe"

Crei did not appear satisfied, but before he could protest, Tarruurri's comm went off, and she excused herself into the next room for privacy.
An urgent request from the precinct dispatch for all available units to respond to a bomb attack on a downtown club crackled through her line, and with a polite apology, Tarruurri begged off and took her leave of Kimiiki Crei.

Joining her partner outside who was smoking on the street and exchanging speeder-chase stories with a local officer, Kajeela instructed that they had to move on. "A bomb went off at the "Fallowhole" club, multjiple casssualtjiess" she said as they clambered into their speeder.
"Ussse the sjiren" she added as Remkah pulled from the curb and accellerated rapidly away from the Dirge.

[Jonas T. Remkah]

Clamping his cigarette between his teeth and maneuvering their speeder into the traffic lanes, Remkah gave his partner a sidelong look, "We protectin' the Albino now...?"

He knew the question would irk Kajeela but frell, Jonas thought ,they were supposed to take the scumbag down not tuck him in at night.

"The Deparrrtment jis. Not usss" Tarruurri corrected, not liking the idea any better than he.

"Ohhh, the Department" Remkah echoed fascitiously, "Well then, thats different.." He squinted as the cigarette smoke curled and stung his eyes.

Kajeela's ears flattened angrily, but she said nothing. It was odd, she thought, that Crei had looked to his buddies in the ICPD for assistance, and not to some of his cartel friends. There had been rumors of a gradual distancing of some of the Albino's known criminal associates in the aftermath of the assault against Kazaar's family. She had looked into the incident after meeting Aurelias on Tatooine and it seemed a few of the Syndicates were distancing themselves slightly from the Albino. Oh, they did not mind hitting Kazaar through his family - the man was dangerous and his loss would only make life easier for many of them - but to attack him, and not kill him off, to leave him alive to come back for retribution..that was one of the dumbest moves in cartel history. No one wanted to be in the way when Kazaar came looking for blood again. Perhaps Crei was really beginning to feel his isolation. The rats were heading for higher ground and willing body sheilds were getting hard to find. Enter ICPD and the corrupt brass to offer their own men and women sworn to protect the City as expendables. Tarruurri released a growl.

"We move on Crrreji tomorrrrrrow" she promised Remkah.

"Not soon enough for me" Jonas replied, recognising in her statement the Cizerack's frustration and her expired patience at playing by the rules. "We'll get him on fire code violations or some crap" he grinned, instantly feeling better about the whole thing. "In the meantime, why would some crazy sonofabitch blow the Fallowhole? A jilted husband, an angry wife? Some kid out for kicks?"

Kajeela shrugged. "Who knowsss?"
Who understood half the things that happened in Coruscant these days. All she knew is she would be happy to do some upfront detective work tonight and catch the culprit, maybe work him/her over a little bit. Cant have people running around blowing places up.

"I'll say this" Remkah observed, "He's about as subtle as that maniac who went after Crei's place six months ago, your new friend the bounty hunter from Tatooine.."

They shared a chuckle at the remembered devastation of Crei's mansion, the speeder parked through the upstairs windows and into the ornate staircase. It was a statement. A defiant challenge to anyone who dared cross him. It was a loud and obvious disregard for any ramifications that may come from such actions. Not unlike blowing up a club as a statement of some sort.
The laughs trailed off as an unlikely suspicion came unspoken into both of their minds..

Kajeela's ears flattened once again.
And Remkah squinted as smoke curled to sting his eyes.

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

Crei had positioned himself on the settee, a long-stemmed glass of Riesling in his pale hand, his slippered feet propped upon a stout, stuffed chinz pouff as he stared off into his own thoughts.

He had not been home during the power outage and subsequent break-in. He had, at the time, been enjoying a fine dinner at Cortez's - swordfish in lime coulis with asparagus and baby carrots. His meal had been interupted with the news of what had happened from his senior security guard and he had, of necessity, had to forgo the creme brulee'.

Crei was not normally a nervous person. In fact, he was the antithesis of nerves - a cool and calculated individual who's intellect and cunning rarely failed to keep him in control. His failure to eliminate Kazaar had come back to haunt him in many ways, first with the destruction of his Mansion, and by association, some of his reputation. The next with his newly developed habit of constantly looking over his shoulder with the expectation of seeing the bounty hunter's twin Bylar Pistols pointed in his face. It was becoming a little trying. And now, this incident tonight. Innocuous in and of itself really. He was, after all, living in the Dirge and all the perilous activity that was associated with such a seedy community. It was just all this stress of living with a sword hanging over his head, expecting any moment for it to drop - as his reaction tonight had demonstrated. The Velvet Crimelord had become a target of revenge for Aurelias, a force easier to stop than a Kaminoan hurricane and just as unforgiving. And it was beginning to tell on Crei. He saw it clearly reflected in the disdainful gaze of that Cizerack detective schutta.

Kimiiki would have to do something, and something soon. He must turn the tables once again to his favor. Must gain leverage to balance once more the field of emnity between himself and Kazaar. If not for his health alone, for his criminal empire. Crei was not ignorant of the shifting of support amongst his peers, the timid, pack of scum. He needed a saving of face. And as he sipped delicately from the cut crystal, Kimiiki determined that tonight's scare would be the beginning of a new tactic. He would take steps, some how, to convince Aurelias of the folly of revenge. With this comforting strategy, Kimiiki made his way to his bedroom and the soothing vibrations of the refresher.

He was still the Velvet Crime Lord. This fact had not changed. Aurelias was still just a hot-headed bounty hunter who thought no further than the reach of a slug-thrower. Theirs was not a real match, no real contest. Kimiiki was smarter, better financed and had a much farther reach than some Alderaanian badboy with a chip on his shoulder. Allowing the kimono to slip from his white muscular frame, Crei admired himself in the long bathroom mirror. His arrogance was pleased with the virile reflection returned to him in the polished glass and he finished the last of the wine with a silent toast to his own resillience.

In the closet, Adelaide remained very still, aware of the Albino's entrance into the room. Aware that the time had finally come.


"Only got one shot at this" Kazaar said.

"Only one's all I need" Adelaide said back.

Aurelias smiled darkly, his eyes creasing at the edges as the approval touched his eyes, "That's m'girl"

"Ive always been your girl. I told you that before" she said, returning to an old wound.

"That wasn't always obvious, Delly, y'hafta admit"

It was her turn to smile, a little self-consciously. She had the good grace to still feel contrite about the deception that led to their split 8 years ago.

"I'd like to make it up to you Aurelias" she said genttly. "You know I'd do anything to take back the past. To be like we were. Remember how we were?"

"I remember" he said, looking deep inside her with his dark eyes - eyes of a man that had seen so much, lived so hard, yet who could still be so indescribably tender. She reached up, cupping his face in her hands and kissed him softly.

"Ya'only get one shot" he reminded her, not needing to quantify that the remark was regarding their past it was enough to feel his sadness enveloping her like a heavy shroud.

"One's all I need" she croaked, her voice breaking along with her heart.



"One shot's all I get" she said silently to herself and nudged the closet door open the smallest crack.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Frack. ICPD. It wasn't that Kazaar gave a damn 'bout cops. Sure didn't hate 'em, hell, his dad'd once been one. Good 'Ole Man Kazaar'd been a protector or whatever th'frack they were called. Before he left f'Alderaan and met Kazaar's mom. But Aurelias Kazaar'd never really cared for 'em. Most of 'em he met ('cept for Whiskers) were corrupt and care more 'bout gettin' their next payoff, than actually upholdin' th'law. 'Course when it's Imperial 'law' they're holdin' up...why th'frack wouldja care?

He crept 'long th'edge of th'building's roof, gettin' ready t'leap across. Far as he was concerned, if those cops tried t'stop him, he'd stop them. 'Specially if they were corrupt. But a cold pit in his stomach told 'im he had t'make sure they were corrupt, before he offed 'em. And Kazaar tried t'listen to those cold pits.

Th'former bounty hunter pulled what looked like a holdout blaster (but with a microphone of some kind) from 'is dark jacket. Four ICPDs were gathered 'round near o'small chimney and Kazaar'd focused on them. He took aim and pulled th'tigger. Instead ovva blaster bolt, a small laser beam crossed th'roof and pointed at th'chimney. A second later, voices filled his ears.

"-an you believe we hafta do this?" One of th'cops was stating. "I'm all for 'prontect and serve', but this is Kimiiki Crei. We should be arresting him, not protecting him"

"I know, I know, but the orders came from brass. They want 'The Velvet Crimelord' protected because some bomb went off at a club."

One of th'other cops lit up a cigarette o'some kind. Moron. Don't ya know that fracks up ya night vision? Kazaar suck on cigars like they were some kinda candy, but he wasnt' a frackin' moron. "If you ask me, the brass wants Crei's pasty cargo hold to be protected, because they want to make sure their cargo hold is protected."

Someone chuckled. "That's kinda funny coming from a guy who 'takes' from Gorgja the Hutt and the Black Nebula."

Th'smokin' cop elbowed th'other guy. "Only when I have to. That fat Hutt doesn't ask for information that often. That Sith Witch though..."

Kazaar deactivated th'mic and shook 'is head. Well hellfire'n frackin' brimstone. Figures three outta th'four cops on th'roof were honest ones. And th'one cop who was on th'take was gettin' it from his ex-boss (who, despite their current state o'not talking to each other, still had an 'understanding'). Well nothin's ever that damn easy. If it were...Kazaar smirked as he readied himself for th'jump from th'other side of th'roof. Had t'time it perfectly. If he missed, he'd alert th'entire ICPD what he was planning. And that'd make a lotta people pissed off. Sure wasn't worth doin' that.

Kazaar took two steps and started t'run, his footfalls poundin' on th'roof as th'edge got closer and closer. A moment later, he was flying towards Crei's little hideaway, hopin' none o'the cops on th'other side would hear his landing. He hit th'roof hard and rolled, pain shootin' up his shoulder. Frackin'...Kazaar winced and kept t'the shadows. Those cops weren't near th'door, that was th'first really frackin' good new he'd gotten inna hour. Now t'just slip 'cross th'roof (without bein' seen) an' slip in.

Easy right? Kazaar barely kept his snort from bein' audible. Yeah frackin' right.

Then he started t'creep towards th'door. And Crei.

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

Crei allowed himself extra time in the refresher. It had been a trying night and he felt the knots of tension vibrate out of his muscles as he stood, lids closed over stinging eyes, and let his mind expunge imaginings of Kazaar shooting him point-blank in the face with those damn Brylars. He never heard Adelaide, never noticed the hand that slipped behind the divider to brush a finger against his back. The whisper-touch jolted him out of his relaxed state like a lightning strike so that he spun around, slipping slightly to crash his back against the cubicle wall. Adelaide jumped back, herself surprised at the sudden reaction. The patch would only take seconds to kick in, Crei's body would feel it before his mind caught up.

"Why you little binthe!" he hissed, collecting his scattered nerves. What the frell was she doing here? Kimiiki felt an abrupt dread steal over him - he'd never really counted on the girl to do anything, she was a broken pathetic pawn when he'd last seen her. The boy's death should have crushed her. He saw a coldness in her stare that only heightened his apprehension.

".......My legs...." he said, looking down on his opaque limbs, not understanding why they were beginning to buckle. "What did you.....?"

Adelaide took another step back, waiting. She had been assured by Novus that the toxin contained in the 3x3cm topical patch (obtained at quite an expense on the black market) would aggressively absorb through the skin and penetrate into the blood-stream within 90 seconds, coarsing through the body with every heart beat to render the individual physically paralised within mere moments. Crei, in all his naked vunerability, would be at her mercy. The downside was that the immobility did not last very long - 5, maybe 10 minutes max. It was not nearly enough time for Crei to suffer, but Del had to go with what would give her the best chance of success. Besides, how long would it really take to slice an Albino's throat?

"How does it feel to be at another's mercy, Crei?" Adelaide asked, a sick pleasure in her voice. "Your life in the hands of someone who really has no conscious that you die?" Crei crumpled as his legs gave way, falling forward to push out the glass divider and collapse atop it. His hands had hung inert at his sides, nothing to cushion the fall and his head took the brunt of the impact. His body sprawled at an impossible angle, the Velvet Crimelord could only glare at Adelaide, the whites of his hideous eyes stark against the redish-yellow pinpricks of color his irisis had shrunk to.

"Do you feel vunerable, Crei? Helpless?" Del crouched beside him and nodded in mock-empathy, "I know what thats like" Her face hardened, her voice a razor edge, "My son knew what that was a like"

She took a blade from her jacket and pressed its point to the Albino's doughy throat. "For Bren" she whispered, and pushed.

The spurting of blood came as a shock and Adelaide drew back in horror. What else had she been expecting? Crei strangled out a cry, but it was barely audible and did not register on Adelaide at all. She looked at her hand, red blood spattered over it and partway up her arm. She was horrified at the brilliance of its color and the heat of it. Warm, she had not anticipated that. And sticky. She began to tremble. And to cry. She felt inadequate, lost. She had failed Bren the minute she'd accepted the disguised help of the Albino through her parents, she'd failed him in keeping him from knowing Aurelias. She'd failed to protect him from this hideous crimelord who'd stolen him and used him against her, and against Kazaar. Before she knew it, Adelaide was sobbing, kneeling in the blood pooling to the floor from the gash in Crei's neck.

"You wicked sonofabitch!" she cursed through gritted teeth. He was to blame. She would make him pay. In this, at least, she wouldn't fail.
Reaching forward once more, her body shaking, her mind unhinging in grief and hate and her own self-loathing, Adelaide took the blade to Kimiiki's throat once more and with a will, resumed her purpose, sawing back and forth, the blade biting into the soft yeilding flesh, back and forth, back and forth...

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar was skulkin' down th'roof stairway when he ran into his first Crei henchman. The guy was standin' with his back turned to th'stairwell, smokin' a spice cigarette. Nice work di'kut, smokin' spice while a buncha cops're walking 'round. Geez Crei's men've gotten sloppy. If th'guy wasn't so stoned, Kazaar woulda questioned 'im a bit, try t'see where that damn Albino was. But th'guy'd probably think he was havin' some sorta spice dream. Force-damned moron. Be easy t'just pop 'im in th'back o'the head with his blaster, but that'd alert th'rest o'the dwelling that somethin' was wrong. Then Kazaar saw th'vibroblade.

It was inna belt holster, th'kind that didn't have a cover o'any kind for it. Obviously th'guy thought he'd never hafta use it since he hadda big blaster holstered on his leg. If he coulda, Kazaar woulda chuckled at th'guy's stupidity, then he wondered if he might be new. Smokin' spice on th'job, not botherin' t'look 'round, definitely a newbie. And a dead one too. Kazaar waited a second, then struck. His right hand went 'round th'guy's throat, while his left hand grabbed th'vibroblade. Inna smooth motion, th'former bounty hunter shoved it into th'base of th'guy's skull and th'body went slack.

He allowed himself a small snort as he hefted th'body up over 'is shoulders. Frackin' moron. Kazaar found a small room with a bed and put th'guy face up on it. Keep 'em from seein' th'vibroblade stickin' outta th'guy's skull. On his way past th'stairwell, Kazaar grabbed th'spice cigarette, made sure it was out, an' tossed it down th'garbage disposal. No sense havin' people wonder where th'guy'd gone. 'Sides, th'spice stench would probably force th'ICPDers to put their own guy on th'stairwell. Which'd work since Kazaar wasn't planning t'get out through th'roof anyway.

Gettin' into th'building was easy, but now he had t'figure out where th'frack Crei was. The Velvet Crimelord (what a frackin' dumb name) wasn't just gonna announce where he was and Kazaar had a feelin' th'stoner he'd just killed didn't know either. Which meant th'cops. Where ever th'frack they were. Kazaar stuck to th'shadows, keepin' as much of a low profile as he could. He almost chuckled. Th'Kid always found it amazin' how Kazaar could be a lesson in how things were supposed t'be done when he wanted to and th'kinda guy who 'made things up' as he went 'long other times. He always smirk at that comparison and say to'er "Look at it this way, Kid. If I do things people expect me t'do, where th'frack is the fun in that?"

He was 'bout t'round a long, dark corridor when somethin' caught his eye. A light from a glowstick o'some kind. Th'hunter pressed himself 'gainst th'wall, as a heavily armed ICPD officer made his rounds. "Nothing to report, sir. Do we know when Remkah and Tarruurri are coming back? Tomorrow? Great. Nice to know they get to sleep in their own beds. Darla was bothering me about that earlier. Said Conner wouldn't go to bed but wanted to spend more time with the punching bag. Can you believe it? Five years old and already fighting like a ten-year-old. His Uncle William would be proud. How soon until I get to head on home sir? An hour? Okay fine, I'll check in before I head off."

Kazaar shook 'is head at th'conversation. Too bad things don't always turn out th'way they oughta. If they did...he wouldn't be here right now. He pushed his thoughts aside as th'cop got closer t'where he was hiding. Just as th'cop got into th'corner of his eye, Kazaar struck. His left hand shot out, grabbin' the man's shirt front, while his right first hit th'guy's knee, then propelled him towards th'floor. Kazaar was on 'im a moment later, th'cool durasteel of his Bryar Blaster pressed 'gainst th'guy's next.

Kazaar's voice was muffled 'nough t'not be recognized. "Know what this is?" He got a nod in response. "Good. Now ya answer my questions correctly, maybe I won't kill ya, got it?"

"Yeah...sure."

Kazaar ripped th'comlink and mic off th'guy's face. "No talkin' to ya superiors either. Ain't in th'mood f'us t'be interrupted. Where's Crei?"

"D-down the hall. His bedroom."

"Any guards?"

"No."

Kazaar put a little pressure on th'guy's neck. "Ya sure 'bout that pal?"

"Yuh-yes. He's paranoid but most of th-th-guards are doing sweeps downstairs. The-they're supposed t-t-t-to come up soon..."

"How soon?"

"T-t-ten minutes. Please. That's all I know."

"Thanks." Kazaar whacked th'guy's neck, knocking 'im out. Why Crei was havin' that little security didn't make a ton o'sense, unless his standin' within th'criminal element was really takin' a tumble. Couldn't happen to a nicer frackin' guy. He stashed th'ICPD cop inna different bedroom, but made sure th'guy's arms and mouth were secured. While it wouldn't taken 'im that long t'kill Crei, part of 'im wanted t'go at it slow. Enjoy it. Everything th'schutta scum bastard'd done t'him and his ex-family. Hell, Kazaar was really hopin' he'd be able t'kill th'bastard all kinds o'dead before th'cops showed up. Might not be possible, but th'vengeful father and ex-ex-husband would be damned if he didn't give it a try.

Kazaar moved silently down th'hall, doin' his best t'not trip any alarms or get th'attention o'any other patrols which might wander into view. Crei's door was pretty ordinary for a man with his kinda vanity, but th'bounty hunter wasn't surprised t'see how lush'n carpeted it was within. Leave it t'Crei t'have his room look like it was made for some kinda king, instead of a slum area. Frackin' bastard. Frackin' prissy...Kazaar's thoughts were interupted by a sound comin' from th'bathroom. Sounded like...someone sobbin'?

What th'frack was goin' on? Had Crei gone completely nuts and was crying in th'shower or did he leave some young girl who'd never spent time outside 'er home and just made th'mistake of 'er life by sleepin' with th'Albino, who was mourning th'loss o'innocence? Or was it somethin' else all together?

He pushed over th'door and discovered it was a combination o'the last two.

"Adelaide?" She was sawin' at Crei's neck with some kinda knife. Looked like she'd almost beheaded th'bastard she was movin' it furiously. She'd definitely hit bone that was f'sure. He put his arms 'round her and started t'pull her off th'crimelord. "Think ya killed 'im, Delly."