[Omega, Carnage Club] Crime Pays

"Ah," said Cerastes. "I'm glad it took you all of that time to get that notion across."

He was such an insufferably smug bastard sometimes. The drell finished off the rest of his drink, then watched as Shirin gave in to her ferocity and bashed the asari's face in.

There was much bashing of the asari's face for Cerastes to watch.

Bhairavi T'Lir was a decorated ex-commando and had killed several opponents with biotically-enhanced roundhouse punches; for this reason, Shirin had stuck very close to her, well within the effective range of the wide haymakers. From there, she had plenty of access for extremely short-range striking (knees and elbows, mostly), which her Sanguine Reign style was very well-suited for.

Having thoroughly tested the asari's ribs with a few well-placed knee strikes, Shirin gave Bhairavi more than sufficient reason to back off and try to get some space between them...and by hovering just at the effective range, she managed to bait out one of those huge biotic punches. From there, it was a simple matter of darting back into close proximity, catching the wrist, throwing a shoulder into the elbow, and using two fingers and some good old small-joint manipulation to pull Bhairavi back into an elbow strike right to the mouth.

The asari dropped to one knee from the impact, dribbling purple from her lips, but she was anything but unconscious, and a sweeping kick knocked Shirin's legs out from under her. A swell of excitement rose in the crowd as Bhairavi reared back, one hand glowing blue, and brought an enormous hammerfist down...


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Several minutes later...
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"I think most of crowd suspects I hit her in mid-punch or something," Shirin explained, drinking a fresh Maiden. "That was unacceptably risky, though. What I actually did was roll to the side. Since she had a leg over me, that caused her to stumble, the punch went wild, and when it landed next to me I just elbowed her in the jaw again. She's got a good jaw - most people would've dropped after that first shot - but two was her limit, I guess."

It had kind of looked like the now-dusty drell had simply quick-drawn Bhairavi on the strike exchange - they were very close together and the angle was awkward. Some of the crowd was still excitedly debating what had happened, and what might happen if the two fought again someday.

"Man, I got sloppy towards the end," she groused, glancing at a small tear in the suit's elbow. "Guess I'll have to go shopping soon. Congrats on your prize money, Jil."

"Our prize money," the quarian said matter-of-factly as he transferred half the winnings into Shirin's account. "You did all the work, you deserve at least some of the winnings! Minus certain administrative fees, of course."

Jil'Korah was grinning ear to ear behind his mask, the trip to Carnage having paid off nicely already. It was almost like he was getting paid to put up with Cerastes.

...did that make him a prostitute?

Nah, it couldn't. He wasn't fucking the drell, after all, just spending a little time with him and making some money in the process. He was more of an escort, definitely, which was something Jil could live with so long as the pay was good, and so far it had been.

"I'm not sure tearing your suit on the victim's teeth counts as 'sloppy'. My uh, hardsuit cam caught the whole thing, and it's been playing back to me in the corner of my envirosuit HUD for the last ten minutes along with a reminder not to piss you off."

Probably wouldn't be a good idea to mention the unregistered AI in the information broker's presence.

Given that the entirety of Cerastes's very-occasional sex life consisted of time spent with prostitutes, Jil'korah's internal monologue was closer to the truth than he'd ever know (fortunately). The drell furrowed his brow at the tear in Shirin's suit: the fabric was not only expensive, but the suit had been tailored to her form as well; he could tell by the way it fit her just so. Perhaps a talented seamstress could mend the wound, but that would mean finding a seamstress on Omega.

"For her, it was sloppy," he commented. Spotting a drop of blue blood that was about to drip down the other drell's cheek and onto the aforementioned suit, Cerastes reached over and caught it with his thumb, then wiped it off on the napkin his drink sat upon. He looked to Jil. "For you, well."

Nothing more needed to be said. He was so a dick, wasn't he?

"It's a good reminder to have around, Jil. Hold on to it."

Oh well. She hadn't been that attached to this suit; it was old enough to not be new, but not old enough to be a classic. It wouldn't be that difficult to replace it with something more current and fashionable, either - her propensity for men's clothing gave her a leg up there because apart from waists and legs, female drell didn't really have the same shape as any other species, so her options were a little more limited if she stuck exclusively to dresses and so on. Besides, there was the whole 'freedom of movement' thing, and the fact that she'd grown up in pants.

"I think I got us a client this morning," she said, quietly directing the conversation away from herself - she trusted Jil, and was reasonably sure she could exact violent retribution on Cerastes if he proved untrustworthy, but neither of those factors made her interested in sharing personal details. "It's...a bit less traditional than our usual fare - live target recovery, of sorts. Still getting details, but the money is, uh, considerable, so I have a feeling everybody will be on board. It's going to be complicated, though."

Discreetly, Shirin flashed the quarian an image.



"Ever seen one of these?"