Lockdown - 47 by Alexander Shaw

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SUMMARY: Okay, sorry it takes so long between chapters, I got things at home to worry about. Welcome all who have declared themselves fans, and thanks for all the answers regarding fave characters. Cheers!

Chapter 47 Overconfidence.

--/13 Years Previously (Day 4903) 23:14 Hours/--
--/The Turn Inn, 39th Street, Dustshell City, Carene/--

The Turn Inn was just ahead, the slatted wooden doors creaking slightly in the night time breeze. Tenzanin didn't like this place much. It was dull, dusty and small. In the last eighteen months, ever since he'd become employed by the secretive yet incredibly wealthy Mr. Mist, he'd become more used to the bigger cities, the flashier places that his homeworld had to offer. This place was dive. It was a frontier city, even worse off than the dump that he'd been raised in.

Sighing, he pushed the doors open. There was a pistol on his thigh, a sword sheathed at his hip and a crossbow strapped to his back. The crossbow was fast becoming one of his favourite weapons, its silent beauty was captivating to the eye, it could deliver a massive force behind the blow and it was easily recognisable as the weapon of a hunter. A real hunter.

The Inn was almost packed, and almost everyone inside turned to look at him. He winked at the crowd, offering them a cocky grin. Most just grumbled and returned to their drinks. This was Carene, an Alliance Prime world. There were Lokan in here, Japlannians, Korsneakians, Nethrek, D'Joran, Lorast, Ragnorians, even a few Etherians. But only one Zoranthac.

"You'd be Tripic." Tenzanin said, seating himself down opposite the burly slave warrior, bringing his feet around to rest on the table. He signalled to the waiter.

"You'd be Orem." Tripic replied, not doing the Carene boy the dignity of looking directly at him. "You should be older, boy."

"I'm still working on it." Tenzanin said, flippantly.

"You're too fucking young to be doing this shit. You'll get yourself killed, or worse, you'll get me killed." Tripic snapped. He was easily thirty years senior to this insolent teenager. "You know anything about the job?" He looked around, to find that Tenzanin wasn't even paying attention to him, still trying to flag down a waiter. Impatiently, Tripic held out his claws. The waiter was there almost instantly. Tripic smiled.

"What can I get for you, gentlemen?" The young Carene girl asked, a tray under her arm.

"Surprise me, gorgeous." Tenzanin said, winking at her. She rolled her eyes and moved away.

"I'm stuck here with an adolescent prick that wouldn't know how to use his even if he could find it. Wonderful." Tripic hissed. He flexed his scaled fingers, leaning back in his seat and reaching for his own mug while shaking his head.

"Shut up, slave." Tenzanin said, still smiling.

"Here you go sir." A deeper voice came. It was an older Carene man who served him now. "One surprise." He placed a glass with yellow and green swirling liquids on the table. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a data crystal, which he then placed on the table, before walking away. Tripic nodded at the man, and then reached for the data crystal. Tenzanin's hand shot out and plucked it up himself. He grinned, and then handed it over.

Tripic curled his lip, showing his sharp Zoranthac teeth.

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