Guard Dog <Rock>

[Ophelia]

This contains adult material. It's not our fault if you read it, so it's your responsibility.

If one took a random person from 10,000 years ago, and thrust them into present-day Coruscant, they would have immediately recognized it. Over the years, the city-planet had changed very little. Towering sky scrapers pierced the sky with gleaming glory, shading out the dark and crowded undercity below. On the surface, it was a perfect representation of all the good things in life. Rich, clean, pure. But only on it's seedy underside did one see the things that were reality. Through the dawning sunrise, a ship glided easily upon the winds and headed decisively toward it's destination. A small landing pad near the embassies, made available for those visitors that most politicians didn't want to make obvious were visiting, was already prepared for the vessel.

Speaking of, it was an impressive thing. It's metal coat gleamed with good health and tender attention, the silvery emblem of the Mandalorian Clans carefully embedded into it's wing. As if this wasn't enough to arouse suspicion, the bird was outfitted with quite a few more weapons than your average space-faring vessel tended to carry.

But fret not, citizens of the good Galactic Alliance, these Mandalorians were actually here on valid business, not just here to steal your babies and then eat them for dinner that light. In matter of fact, inside was a scene that was achingly familiar to any creature in the galaxy that had ever had to bear a child.

In the cockpit, large, scarred knuckled hands clenched the controls with barely-controlled anger, teeth gritted together. The huge Mandalorian warrior was a handsome man of indeterminate age, brown hair buzzed short and armor scored with the signs of many battles. His mate was a shorter female, dressed in the same scarred armor, fiery red hair and green eyes staring stoically out upon the city. It wasn't them that was causing the disturbance. Oh no.

In the back, a pair of 8 year old children bickered over what looked like some sort of portable gaming device, both of them seemingly androgynous. They both had brown hair cut short, and green eyes blazing ferociously over the battle. Their cries were becoming louder and louder, and with a higher frequency than the older ones were used to. Off to the left, a blonde young woman, perhaps a tad on the filled out side, sat at a bench and cleaned a vibroblade, occasionally reaching up with a finger to brush back a strand of out-of-the-bottle blonde hair behind an ear.

And separate from all of them, was another young woman. Her cinnamon colored hair was pulled back in a ponytail, wisps of hair escaping to frame her face and eyes. Her face was that of a classic beauty, if it wasn't for the stubborn set to her jaw and eyes that said that she'd be a handful if anyone called her that. She was curled up, feline-like, in a chair with a datapad in one hand, cinnamon eyes intense on what she was reading. Honestly, she didn't even realize the twins were fighting. The story was a bit too fascinating to worry about.

Finally, it seemed like the leading male of the family had had enough of his spawn's bickering. He turned around in the chair, scowling roughly as he grimaced.

"Shut up, sit down, and act like Mandalorians. And not a clan of screeching banshees!"

AKA: If you don't quiet down, I will turn this ship around!

But, unlike other families, these children actually quieted down. They grumbled a bit, of course, but at least they didn't repeat the 'I'm not touching you' fiasco that had gotten Dad /really/ upset.

Eventually, the ship touched down lightly on the landing pad, a small gathering of robed figures watching warily. Inside the ship, the blonde girl turned and smirked at her sister, who aimed a smirk right back. Slowly, Ophelia checked the joints of her armor, noticing with a grimace that her left elbow joint was a little stiff. Well, hopefully her parents wouldn't' notice before she got a chance to remedy the situation.

"I'm so ready for this! Maybe Mama and Pa will take us with them this time." Jerry whispered to her sister, leaning in conspiratorial toward her.

"Me too! But who knows? Maybe we'll just go get to scare the wits out of the local civvy boys again!" Ophelia laughed. It was a rich, warm coffee laugh that went straight down to one's very bones. She stretched out her legs, making the joints creak of both her bones and her armor.

"Ah, Ophie. Will you ever grow up?" Jerry joked with her sister, standing and shoving her helmet under her arm. The twins moved nearer to their mother, still insecure in such a large place. They weren't really used to the city, even now.

"Ophie, Jerry, keep close and follow."

"Yes Mama." The two intoned lightly at the same time, sounding obedient but doing nearly matching eye rolls in the common gesture of all teenage girls everywhere toward their parents. Of course, if they weren't also considered adults.

The landing platform lowered itself to allow it's cargo off the ship, the two girls walking several paces behind their parents with the twins staying just slightly ahead. One of the robed figures stepped forward, bowing slightly.

"It was good that you have come. I am assuming you have received our payment?"

"Of course." Came the grumbling, apathetic response. Ordonis was a mercenary first, and human second. As they negotiated, and the girls followed, Jerry rolled her eyes at one of the young clerks, who was staring at them as if they had just sprouted tails and flew off to breath fire.

Ophelia turned and smirked at him, a feral grin coming on her features. Her cinnamon eyes snuck to her parents, who weren't paying much mind, and turned back to the clerk. She jerked forward slightly.

"Boo."

The clerk's papers went flying into the air, as he let out a squeak and dived behind a pillar. Their mother's green eyes turned back to pin down her darker daughter with a glare, one that Ophelia meekly returned. She feigned innocence, lifting her hands in silent apology.

"What? I didn't do it!"

The woman sighed, shook her head, and exchanged looks with her mate and husband, but soon went back to business. It seemed like the politician was finally finishing up with the background information.

"So as you can see, we need someone to be a bodyguard to Senator Zynaro, at least for a few weeks. Among other, more major players of course."

"I see." Said the red haired woman. She and her life-mate exchanged a look, and then she turned back to the robed man.

"My daughter, Ophelia, will be the one to take on this mission. I find that we have other contracts elsewhere. I assure you that she will be more than capable enough to watch over Senator Zynaro. Jerry, of course, will guard the Senator's wife."

Ophelia and Jerry stared in shock, in the process of congratulating each other in getting away with their prank, stared at their parents in both shock, and wonder. Really? Seriously this time?

The man frowned, looking over the girls with a jaundiced eye. "They seem a little young."

"I assure you..."

Ophelia frowned, stepping forward and on equal footing with her parents. Her entire stance radiated dominance, and even being much older, the politician couldn't help but feel it.

"I've been training for this since I was born, Senator. When I was 3, I was accompanying my father out on hunts that you wouldn't send your best soldiers after. I killed my first mark, my first man when I was 12, and became an adult at 13. I assure you that I am more than capable of safeguarding his life."

"... very well."

-----------

So that was how Ophelia found herself staring at the Senator that was still, even though it was far past dusk, working even though he had already gone through a considerable amount of paperwork over the last few hours.

Senator Zynaro was a distinguished looking human in his late 50s. He wasn't an unattractive man, but he looked so tired all the time it was hard to think of him in that way. Ophelia had taken to him immediately, mostly because he had respected her as a warrior, and not as a 16 year old girl.

"Senator, don't you think it's time to call it a night? You can't honestly work this way all the time." The girl frowned, putting an even more stubborn edge on her full lips. She crossed her arms over her chest, still feeling that stiff joint, and feeling very much like someone dragged through the mud.

She was tired. Filthy, and wanted a shower so badly she could almost taste it.

Zynaro looked up with a startled blink on his gentle gray eyes, looking over the girl with a slight smile as he stood, stretching his bones from being hunched over so long.

"Oh, dear. I had forgotten you were there, my girl. I'm sorry to keep you up like this. I'll go ahead and head to bed. You should as well." He admonished gently, with a paternal smile.

"I'll be fine, Senator."

Thinking, what Ophelia wistfully wanted most was a shower. It had been a long voyage, and her body was telling her it was not happy about it.

"Very well, but feel free to use my fresher at any time. It is just through that door right there." The Senator then moved his way to his bed, as Ophelia stared at the door thoughtfully.

Well, it couldn't hurt. It would make her feel better, therefore more aware. And besides, it was only a room away. What could hurt? So with a shrug, the Mandalorian walked into the fresher.

It was the most glorious shower she had ever had in her young life. With a sigh, she relaxed against the cool tile, allowing the hot water to relax her aching muscles.

A few feet away, the Senator slept soundly into his bed. The sounds of the city and the others inside the building where just soft whispers, and the room was seemingly at peace.

For now.

[Rock]

That camera was annoying. No one was watching it. Why wouldn't he go on? Because it wouldn't move. He was crouched in his armor, staring at the world through his helmet-the cool slits through which he viewed the expensive apartment.

It really was nice, but he didn't come here to admire the interior decorating. Besides, he wasn't in a good position to view the place. Crouched behind a plant, fitting in in the shadows, wall, and green scenery. What a cliche place to hide!

He cursed in Mando'a and then looked up at the Camera. "Mar'e!" he barked. The camera had moved, finally! He got up and followed the direction of the Camera's lens, sidling under it. He stuck to the wall and walked slowly, crossing a window. He went a little faster, feet making no sound as he ran.

His Spec ops pack moved not an inch, containing various thing-the poison for his job, a knife, and extra power cells. He kept a hand near his blaster and another brushed another plant out of his way. His helmet's HUD separated Electrical items with a buzz of static outlining the object. Three cameras to get past-all of them covering spots that would be impossible to move through without being seen.

So he jutted his jaw out to hit a switch. The active camouflage clicked on, shrouding his body inch by inch in bended light. It'd fool the cameras and his studying of the blueprints revealed no infrared cameras.

He was sent here to kill Senator Zynaro. He was not to be seen but the poison would have to be, potent and strong but easily traceable to show that people like him had enemies. Rock's purple eyes flicked around as he reviewed the blueprints in his mind. Just one more room in this place with no cameras before he got to the bedroom. Easy enough.

So he just walked. It was more of a hurried scuffle as he wanted to get out of here quick, but he knew that he'd be seen if he ran. He stepped over an extremely small chair and he crept around another plant-another one!-and then reached the door. As he pressed the button to open it, a guard walked through, having already pressing the button himself.

Rock stopped himself and almost jumped in surprise. He sidestepped to allow the guard passage-he looked bored and he had a cig hanging from his mouth. Before the door could close, however, Rock slipped in and got along the wall.

The Taung straightened and looked around. A small room, only twenty feet by sixty, made to be squeezed in for the Apartment. He knew that the guards in there couldn't see him, but he counted them anyway. Four of 'em, two asleep. He wanted so bad to whip his M5 off his back and just unload.

But he didn't. He slipped along in the dim light to the door to the senator's room on the other side. Before he opened the door, however, he realized...they'd see it and wonder. Cursing, he turned. No sound escaped from his helmet as he muttered words best left not repeated.

The two awake guards were almost asleep, sitting very close to one another. He stood over them n the light, and waited a bit. One turned his head. The other got a knife through his throat. The first one got the same knife into his throat. Both lay bleeding, their own heart pumping out fresh, hot blood. He moved to the other two and a quick blow to the heart with a fist knocked them out, sending them into a state of shock they wouldn't wake up from in hours.

He raised himself again, walking to the door. He'd wiped one side each on of his knife onto the sleeping guard's shirts. That'll be fun to discover.

Then he opened the door to the Senator's bedroom, and withdrew a fusion cutter from his pack. He welded the door shut at the lock. No one would walk in, and-wait, the bathroom was occupied.

By who? Warm smells of perfume and water wafted out as well as steam. Honestly, it smelled nice. But who was it?

His eyes narrowed as he cave his camouflage a rest. Visible again. He'd have to be careful. He walked, in the darkness, to the Senator's bed. The window was behind Rock as he turned to face the sleeping, older man and the light cast him in an eerie way. He reached back and withdrew a cylinder of purple poison, unscrewing the top to reveal a needle.

He frowned. Too easy there almost wasn't any honor in this. He paused for a long moment before applying the poison. Should he do this? Of course. He was being paid.

But, there was no honor.

Because of his hesitation, someone walked in. A foot showed itself from the bathroom door, and someone stepped through.

[Ophelia]

At first, Ophelia allowed herself to relax under the hot water, sending the thought of the man she was to guard out of her head for a few moments. That was a mistake. Of course. It would figure that the minute she let her guard down, an assassin would enter the room.

She had just never expected it to be another Mando'a.

It was the scent that hit her first. The scent of hot, fresh human blood filled her nostrils along with the scent of gun oil and cold, hard metal that was meant to administer death. That was what set the young woman off. She slid a bit as she stepped out of the bath, but hopefully the assassin wouldn't be paying too much attention, counting on the shower to cover the sounds of his- or her- entrance.

But despite the urgency of the situation, Ophelia stepped carefully and quietly, grabbing one of the towels to wrap around herself before exiting the fresher. Sitting on one of the shelves above the sink was a blaster pistol, well cleaned and gleaming in the steam of the shower. She picked it up, carefully moving to the doorway.

The Senator was still, apparently not noticing that there was his potential doom standing above his bed. He grumbled a bit in his sleep, a troubled frown coming upon his lined face as he rolled over a bit in his bed.

Ophelia pressed herself to the doorway, using the highly shined reflective surface of her pistol to take a sneak peak into the room beyond, preferably without giving herself away. What she saw was a tall, dark, broad shadow standing above the senator, some odd glowing substance in it's right hand. With one, fluid movement, she rounded the corner.

Ophelia hadn't really had time to dry herself off. The towel was not one meant for the body, but the hair, so it ended just a little bit below her hips. Water dripped down her body and her legs, plastering her long, cinnamon hair to her neck and shoulders. One hand held the towel steady in front of her breasts, but the other held the pistol that was pointed at the intruder.

She smirked, cinnamon eyes appearing almost golden in the mild light of the room. With a slight flick of her wrist, she motioned to one side of the bed, away from the Senator.

"I suggest you get away from there. Who knows? You may have an accident. Like getting shot in the kneecap."

Ophelia's voice came out a soft purring sound, but there was iron right below the surface. She couldn't quite get a good look at the intruder, yet. The spot she had motioned to was a patch of light, where he could be seen a bit better. First thing was to get him away from the Senator, then work on getting the Senator out of danger.

However, someone that could sneak all the way in here merited some talent. Ophelia wanted to know just how he got in here before she sent the mysterious stranger to the scrap heap.

[Rock]

The figure that leaped out as if on a spring was, to say the least, mesh'la. And not just in a sexual manner..no, her legs were supple and her face and hair beautiful-in short, she was copyc Only, with the looks part. Being wet and in a towel didn't help chase her first impression out of his mind. No, he'd remember this for a long time.

Even when they were married with kids. Wait, married, where did that come from? He growled to himself and then turned on his external speakers. His voice hissed out, humorous, but the speakers made his voice cold and mechanical. "Don't drop that towel, girl. You might actually shock me into laughing."

He placed the cap back onto his poison and took his own little sweet time, staring at Ophelia all the while. Hunting Zakkegs with her would be exceptionally pleasurable.

He growled. There it went again. He had flashes of vague, hazy memories-children with purple features. Ophelia, only older. Yelling at a red-skinned individual. His eyes anrrowed. What in the Maw's Black Holes was going on?

Despite his confusion, he backed away into the light. Rock's Taung features were highlighted, his grey skin and muscular height. His hands were still at his side, but one reached behind him to put away the poison. "Okay, now what? You going to step over here with me, or...?"


/Mesh'la-Beautiful.

Copyc-attractive (not looks - generally appealing, separate concept for Mandos - and may refer to anything)\

[Ophelia]

....

....

What the hell was he staring at?

Ophelia frowned slightly at the large man's sudden intense interest in studying her. Of course, it wasn't often you saw a Mandalorian woman in nothing but a skimpy towel and a smile.

And a blaster pistol. Ok, so maybe that wasn't so unusual really. It would take a man with more self control than he to not be affected at all by the current vision. Her lips pursed together slightly, amber eyes analyzing the situation. The Senator woke with a startled gasp, staring at the creature over his bed and...

His bodyguard in a napkin.

Ophelia jerked her head to the side, near the closet, where there was an escape hatch for just this kind of situation. After all, locking the door was always a good idea when you were going to assassinate somebody.

"Get out of here, Senator. Try to bring in some backup, k?" Her tone was almost conversational, as if she was telling him to go get some sweet tea for their guest. The man stumbled out of his bed, still dressed in his sleeping robes and retreated from the pair. Ophelia glared, keeping the assassin pinned in place to prevent him from following.

"So, now back to you. Who are... by Mandalore, what are..."

Eventually, the woman regained her voice, whetting her throat a few times to allow the words to escape without stuttering. For some reason, she was almost magnetized by this stranger. Something about him seemed...

So very familiar.

When he moved into the light, her grip on her weapon relaxed slightly, if only out of shock.

There was no way. Even if one did survive, they were long extinct. Over 14,000 years. But despite all of the theories drifting into her head, she knew exactly what he was.

A Taung.

The woman frowned, shoving away that odd attraction into the back of her mind and focusing on the problem at hand. Just because he was one attractive man, didn't mean she could just let him kill her contract.

"Take off your helmet."

The Taung haughtily refused, staring at her with something close to daring. Daring her to make him. Well, he obviously wasn't going to make this easy on her.

"I said take it off, or I'll make you."

Still no response.

Ophelia made her approach slowly, still holding the towel around her body and aiming the blaster at the nape of the stranger's neck, where all armor was intrinsically weak. Eventually, she was just a fingers width away from him, and was both shocked and angry that she could feel her body shuddering with excitement.

And it wasn't from the potential fight.

It just seemed so instinctively right, to be this close to him. Every curve seemed slightly familiar, every line matching every instinctive marker in her genetic makeup. Slowly, her left hand released the towel, and reached up to snap one of the clips on the helmet, and slowly push it backward off the Taung's head.

She needed to know. She needed to see him.

And damned if Ophelia knew why.

[Rock]

Rock grinned. so she was getting closer. He was joking, really. He looked down at her, face flat. The helmet hisses as its internal atmosphere shut off when her slender hands unclipped it, and cooler air rushed in. He took a great breath, and, by the time he drew it in, he placed a hand on Ophelia's.

Time paused. Froze and all that jazz. While he was confused and he felt icy, nervous, and tense as a mynock on a power cord, he recovered swiftly. He felt her shuddering as he put her hand away and took off his helmet himself.

His purple eyes stared at her flatly, right into hers. It felt so right. Helmet in his left hand, he let it drop. Now that the helmet was off, what? She seemed to be a little shocked, so he took the first step. He took his left hand and reached around behind her for a great squeeze of her backside with his great hand. He didn't yet, but instead he bent down and planted a kiss directly on her lips. He let their lips linger for a moment, hot, passionate. His hand with the helmet in it wrapped around her back to draw her in, pressing her body against his armor.

Then his hand brushed under the towel and drew up, squeezed, and he grinned. The towel got looser when he drew his hands back, bringing his elbow up to ram it straight into the window. It smashed, the Mandalorian iron lining his arm proving tougher that the transparisteel. His helmet clicked on again and his left hand pressed the button on the Response call.

"Nice meeting you," he purred with a sharp-toothed grin. He kicked a few glass shards out of the way and jumped, the starfighter swooping to catch him on Autopilot after he fell a hundred feet.

He landed on the back and crawled to the cockpit, putting it on Manual and swooping up. He ignored traffic blatantly, zooming east. He passed the window on his way, looking in with a laugh at the sight of Ophelia causing wrecks.

[Ophelia]

Danger, Will Robinson. We have lost the towel. I repeat, the towel has gone AWOL.

Ophelia couldn't of been more shocked of Rock had drawn her over his knee, spanked her, and handed her back to her mama. Every Mandalorian girl knew several choice ways to defend themselves in this kind of situation. She could always step on his instep and break some bones, of course. Bring a hand up to that nose and shove it back into his face. Groin shots were a classic favorite among them. And if that failed, there was always the classic right hook to the jaw.

But despite all of her training, it just didn't occur to her to fight back. Why the hell should she of, anyway? Ophelia had been kissed before, of course. She was pretty attractive, and there had been a few suitors for her back on her home planet. But they were nothing like this one. Hot, intense. The kiss sent waves of fire down her spine and through her veins, making her feel as if she was burning at 1000 Kelvin. Her right hand didn't drop the pistol, but she reached up to wrap her arms around Rock's broad neck and bring him down closer.

If it was a kiss he wanted, it was a kiss that he'd get.

The armor was cool against her heated skin, making her tingle with pleasure. Her body fit perfectly into his, as if they were made to fit together from the day that they were created. One creamy tan thigh came up to wrap slightly around Rock's right leg, pressing her body as close as possible.

The hand near her back was pleasant, as well. But she wasn't really paying attention to it until he slid a hand under the towel, which wasn't much anyway, and gave a nice long squeeze to her rear. She let out an indigent squeal at the contact, and her eyes snapped open to blaze ferociously at her impromptu suitor. But just as she was about to give him one hell of a punch that he'd never forget....

The glass shattered, and the higher elevation sucking the air from the room grabbed her now forgotten towel and yanked it off of her body. Not that she cared.

She was too furious to care.

But despite her fury, that image would probably stay with her for a long time. That tall, dark body framed against the lights of the outside city, and an absolutely wicked grin.

When he fell out of the window, she ran over without a second thought, her entire upper body sticking out of the window to glare at him.

"Run now, shadow. But I'll get you. I swear."

Of to the side, a man driving a hovercraft happened to look up just in time to catch an eyeful of nubile young Mandalorian. As he gazed up in slack jawed wonder, his vehicle t boned another hover bike, making quite the pileup in the intersection of the skyway. Ophelia glared and slipped back inside, just as a group of guards busted through the door.

Oh look, now it was there turn. She glared at them, canines bared as she walked to the chair and grabbed a robe that was draped across it, pulling it up and over her shoulders.

"Stop staring at me and try to chase him down, you lumbering idiots! Is the Senator safe?"

"Uh... yes?"

Ophelia glared, and left the room with an infuriated expression.

Men.

-------------

Three days later, the incident still hadn't been forgotten by most of the Embassy. And some very appreciative drivers. Even if they did get into wrecks. Ophelia was dressed back in her full armor, but that didn't stop idiots from staring at her all the time.

It was hard to get an image like that out of one's head, most of the time.

But the worst was her family. Even her usually stoic mother had teased her outrageously about her cleavage stopping a thousand cars. Her sister was also insufferable.

Outside, the Senator and his bodyguard walked down the steps of the courthouse building, the gentle old man smiling slightly at his bodyguard, and now his friend.

"Well, it's over Ophelia. No matter what happens to me, at least that bill will pass."

Ophelia smiled fondly at him, dressed in her chin to toe armor and her cinnamon hair held back in a tight bun, two chopsticks pressed through it. She was genuinely fond of the old man, and hoped that he would be alright with her gone.

"Thank you for everything you've done for me, my friend. We will not forget this. You're help will have saved the lives of millions of people."

"No, Senator, it was because of you. You were the brave one." She smiled, and sighed, ready to get off this planet and back home.

[Rock]

The bolt clicked back, and three slugs slid into place. Rock slammed the bolt back in place, rotating it and coolly resting his eye along the scope.

He was on top of a building with a flat roof, the door open behind him. No one would come through. He had motion sensors in place to make sure, and by the time they got there, he'd be long gone. If they did, of course. He'd planned this since...the kiss.

He growled to himself. Why is it that every time he thought of that girl, he felt electricity going down his body? His breath caught, his left hand got tingly and his neck burned in the throes of passion again.

Yes, he wanted another kiss.

But he had to focus! He had a senator to kill. The scope magnified the small dots a mile and a half away and gave wind speed, direction, and the distance in Aurebresh. Rock picked his way slowly through the crowd, looking for the smiling head of the Senator. He moved the barell ever so slightly and passed over-

His heart stopped and his breath caught. Ophelia. There she was again, giving a grin that would set most men dropping at her feet.

Rock almost did. His lips parted and his tongue flicked out to lick them and his left hand grew tingly all over again. Honestly, the imaginations beyond the kiss weren't all that bad. He forced himself to focus, driving out the image and feeling of her body against his, and the sight after he busted the window and the towel ripped off.

Then he found that balding, grey head, with Ophelia's head poking through in the corner of his vision. The senator was smiling, talking, shaking hands. A great guy.

Rcok's face hardened as emotion left him.

The finger depressed on the trigger, ready to fire. He watched the readings carefully, and when the wind speed was at its lowest, he fired in between heartbeats of his own body, pumping and recycling blood.

The bullet streaked towards the Senator, and it reached the hard head long before the sound could catch up. The self-propelled bullet slammed into the Senator's head, tearing it in half as it drilled straight through the ground in its trajectory, then exploded when it pierced the other side in a small puff fo smoke and powder.

Rock got up and took apart his gun. He paid it in his pack piece-by-piece, and calmly stepped down the stairs. In two hours he would receive his payment. He had no regrets-but he wondered if he'd ever see the girl again. And if he did, he wondered if she'd kill him.

Maybe he'd get another kiss. Perhaps more.

[Ophelia]

It should have been over. If there was any 'Force' at all in the universe, it should have been over.

Ophelia hadn't expected it. Hell, no one had expected it! The controversial new bill had been signed, and now their makers had no more say in where it would go. Just to sign it was brave enough. No one, not even her parents had kept up quite the guard they had before. So imagine Ophelia's shock when she turned her head to ask the kindly old Senator another question, only to have brain and blood splash over her armor and her face, the limp body falling to the ground nearly right after the shot. The citizens screamed around her, all of them herding either back inside one of the buildings, or somewhere where they deemed safe.

Stupid civvies, she thought numbly, nothing short of a foot of durasteel would protect you from a rifle shot of that caliber.

Ophelia knew that the Senator was dead, but she leaned down stiffly to take the pulse anyway. Her fingers slid through blood and matter, attempting to find what was left of the main artery in his neck. She barely felt the hands on her shoulders, pulling her up and away from the guards that swarmed the body, several heading out to try to apprehend the assassin.

Ophelia already knew that they wouldn't find him. He was too good.

She, however, was under no such restrictions. Instead of appearing upset, she just appeared angry. Of course, saying that she was 'angry' was like saying that a Zakkeg was just a 'little' dangerous.

She was going to hunt him down, and she was going to kill him. No one got the better of her.

Back on their ship, she sat and cleaned her armor, her family in conspicuous silence. Her mother glanced back at her, and sighed slightly.

"I know it's hard not to get attached, girls, but as a bodyguard you can't afford to be. Sometimes you can't do anything to save them."

Her father grunted, expertly steering his ship through the traffic and breaking the atmosphere to lift into space.

"Well, at least we got paid. We were only required to protect him until after he signed the bill, and that's that."

Ophelia nodded and sighed, looking over at her sister, who responded to her look with a raised eyebrow. Jerry cleared her throat, getting her parent's attention. The twins were asleep in one of the bunks, blissfully unaware of the conversation.

"Look, Mama, Pa, we wanted to talk to you about something. We... uh, well we want to get out on our own. Ophelia wants to hunt down her 'Taung'..."

Ophelia turned to glare at her, fist clenching on the joint of her armor. "I'm telling you he's real." She hissed at her. Jerry ignored her.

"And it's about time we learn how to survive on our own. What'dyou think?"

Their father grimaced, and then let out a sigh. He seemed resigned.

"It was bound to happen eventually. Alright, girls. As soon as we get back to base, we'll set you up with a cruiser and a job or two to get started with. After that, you're on your own."

Ophelia wasn't really paying attention. She unclenched her hand from her armor and stared at the ceiling, still remembering the touch of skin on skin.

It didn't matter, though. Not really. He killed her friend, and her mark. He made a fool out of her and her family.

Ophelia was going to find him. And kill him. She was going to prove just how mercenary she could be.

FIN