A Blood Payment Overdue

## Chapters

### Chapter 1

It was raining, somehow on a station dug into an asteroid, in the middile of space, it was raining. A gushing torrent of water descending from the ceiling and striking exposed heating pipes sending up great gouts of steam that obscured the flashing neon signs of various gambling halls, bars, whorehouses, and other dens of iniquity that populated much of station Crimsonhall in a haze of glowing pastels. The reason for this sudden downpour was probably a burst main water pipe or something that local branch of the Eros-Psyche Corpo, the CorpoState in control of the station, had yet to fix. It would most likely be repaired by tomorrow, for a relative term of what tomorrow meant. This fact did little to comfort Sailis as he slithered his way home in the downpour.

Shivering he pulled his trench coat tighter around himself and hunched his shoulders as he picked up his pace. Today had been one of the decidedly more shitty days in his career and he desperately wanted to get home and have a drink. The case he had taken had pretty much dried up in terms of leads. The client in question had been caught up in some short of pyramid scheme and whoever the perpetrators had been had bounced from the station before Sailis could locate them or get his client's money back. She had refused to pay him for that and Sailis just wasn't willing to press the issue. It looked like it was going to be another week of eating prepackaged noddles if he was also gonna pay his electric bill on time.

The complex where Sailis worked and lived was a massive upright brick of a building, completely unremarkable in every way that sat, or rather loomed, on a street corner at the very edge of the station. The windows of the structure where all dark except for a single flickering light that illuminated the entrance. Sailis walked through the double doors and into a lobby that was a plain, featureless and grey as the building's outside with the only details of note being perhaps the galaxy's ugliest, diarrhea green shag carpet (except for the brown and black splotches where it had been burned by cigarette butts) and a pudgy nightwatchmen with the face of a pug who smelled very strongly of whisky. Sailis nodded to the watchmen who grunted in response asc Sailis made his way to the elevator, a rickety thing that only ever had one musical tune playing and with doors that took forever to open, and closed so fast you swear they were going to take your arm off one day. Sailis distracted himself on the way up by reclining back and imaging the nice, full bottle of scotch he had waiting for himself back in his office/apartment.

When the elevator dinged and slide open to his floor Sailis shook himself from his fantasy and had to rush to get out before the doors slammed shut on him. Coming up to his office Sailis stopped just outside the wooden door with a frosted glass window upon which black lettering read **Riktar Innsvald: Private Detective**, though Sailis could still make out a few paint scraps left over from where an **S** had once been at the end. Stepping into the entrance of his office/apartment Sailis looked over at the massive wooden desk where his secretary worked, of course it was empty but a note had been propped up on it that read *Heading out, hope your case went well - V.*

Sailis grunted and shrugged off his trench coat, hanging it up on the coat rack that sat in the corner revealing himself to be a Vanara with purplish blue scales looking about somewhere in his early twenties and a little on the small side. As he was turning around he heard a distinctive click coming from his office behind his secretary's desk. Sailis' ears perked up and his head snapped around to see the light from his office had been flicked on. Sailis' eyes narrowed and the fur one his back began to stand on end and darken as he knew no one should have been there and he reached into the gun holster at his hip pulling out a silver magnum pistol. Sidling up to the door frame he glared in and could just make out a silhouette of what looked like a long cigarette holder with a trail of smoke rising from it. Reaching out his grabbed the door handle and twisted it letting the door swing open by itself before moving in and pointing his pistol at the room's new occupant. What he saw made his eyes widen in shock. A female Dravonika with bright red skin that bore a slightly purple tint, a long copper mane of hair reaching her waist, and bright, acid green eyes was reclining on his leather couch, the pillow and blankets he used to sleep on said couch having been thrown off and piled at her feet. She was rather tall with a fairly athletic build, wearing a massive, loose fitting white fur coat underneath which she wore a tight fitting and sleeveless black dress. In two of her fingers was expertly balanced a long, black cigarette holder in which the gently glowing butt of one was held, a slow stream of smoke rising from it to his ceiling.

"Sailis Riktar Innsvald I presume," the Dravonika said looking him up and down disdainfully.

"Umm, yeah that's, that's me," Sailis replied awkwardly feeling that he knew her from somewhere.

"You can put down the gun," she scoffed, "if I want to hurt you I would have done something already."

In demonstration she held up her free hand and lightning arced between her fingers.

'Great and she's a psion," Sailis thought, 'well she does have a point then.'

He lowered and holstered the gun before glaring over at her lit cigarette.

"What?" the dravonika asked reproachfully noticing his glare. In response Sailis jerked his thumb over to the inside of his office door where a sign reading "No Smoking" hung.

"You can't be serious," she responded raising an unbelieving eyebrow.

"Completely," said Sailia crossing his arms.

"Ugh fine!" she growled rolling her eyes before blowing out her cigarette, "better?"

"Much better," Sailis nodded before walking back behind the large oak desk that sat on the far side of the room from the couch. It was fairly clean except for a few papers strewn about, a drinking aoshantai, a jet black ball point pen, and a single solitary picture frame in which sat a photo of Salis with his arm slung around another, taller Vanara, both grinning and flashing V for victory signs at the camera.

"I suppose your wondering who I am," the Devonika said, eyeing him as he sat down in the swiveling chair pulled up to the desk and faced her.

"Yeah," he replied nodding, "I'm assuming you're here to hire my services considering that I can't think of any other reason you'd break into my office."

"Indeed," she replied placing her elbows on her knees and then her chin into the palms of her hands, "my name is Alisasith Skarzart Visintal, I assume you've heard of me."

Ah, so that's where he knew her from. Indeed he did, she was a moderately famous lounge singer that worked in many of the EPC's bars across the station. He had heard her perform on several occasions and honestly had a hard time understanding how someone with a singing voice like that was only moderately famous. Honestly he wasn't entirely sure whether or not to be more surprised that she was in his office offering him a job or that she was a psion.

"I have," he replied, "what's the job?"

"Excellent, I enjoy being to the point," she smiled a fanged grin sending shivers down his spine, "I looking to track down a pirate gang by the name of the Free Bosses. I've been hearing rumors that their leadership has shacked up in station called The Can, I want you to help me confirm those rumors and if they are true locate their leadership."

"Why?"

"They killed my mother, I want revenge."

Sailis winced at that. Revenge was a tricky and thorny business, the kind he didn't want to get wrapped up in. He crossed his arms again and asked, "why would I help you get revenge?"

"I'll pay you."

"How much?"

"However, much you think the job's worth by the end," she replied nonchalantly as though the money was no object for her, and it might not have been.

"Granted you finish the job," she finished slyly.

Sailis groaned and shook his head slowly grumble under his breath, "its always that catch."

Alisasith gave a wicked laughed, "I would consider myself a women of low intellect if I didn't put it in the contract."

"I suppose," Sailis sighed in resignation.

"Also," Alisasith replied nodding to the picture frame on his desk and added in a softer tone, " I think you can understand my feelings."

Sailis eyed the picture sidelong and sighed inwardly to himself. He really could and, he sighed internally again, he needed the money. Badly.

"Alright, ma-" he was stopped by Alisasith holding out a single clawed finger and glaring at him, again.

"First off none of that ma'am shit," she snapped, "call me Alisa."

"Erm, right ma-, Alisa," he replied nervously pulling at the collar of his shirt, "I will help you."

"Excellent," she replied clapping her hands together, "when do we begin?"

"I'll do some research tomorrow," he said, "stop by at launch time and we'll discuss further."

"Its a date then," she said nonchalantly and a little flippantly making Sailis' face heat up a bit, "ta ta."

She strode from his office without even looking back. Sailis watching her go and taking some notice of the sway of her hips. When she was gone he shook his head to clear the image and ducked down to rummage through his desk drawers until he pulled out a glass and a bottle of scotch. Filling the glass he paused to look over at the picture on his desk.

"Here's to you brother," he said putting the glass on the desk before taking a direct swig from the bottle.