Raygun Heights

4

Tangiers Rajpar was, unlike his partner, the son of a minor noble family within Tigran society. A minor family may have amounted little in the grand scheme of things, but Tigran society often clung to its families and nobility. It gave Tangiers a sense of superiority over the average Tigran citizen. The spring of any sort of real privilege was not to last, however. Tangiers, or rather his father, Shekhar Rajpar, set his family on a path of destruction by being one of the banners of a Great House. When a Great House decides to push for more power, they make their push by calling their banners to support their cause. If the cause fails, sometimes the minor houses have a chance to save themselves by denouncing their disgraced lords. Shekhar Rajpar had stayed loyal. The old Tigran either had the strongest sense of honor, or he thought that House Kropotkin could weather a storm of setbacks, and that his house would be rewarded for standing with them. An assassin's vibro-knife had struck down those hopes, leading to Tangiers current position where he leaned against imitation brick. His yellow eyes narrowed, becoming a darker shade of gold under the gloom. He used his right thumb claw to clean dirt from his index claw. He said nothing while Bennett Barnes stood in the middle of the middle of the room looking down at Tular Vek and Johnny Ace, Tular's co-worker and roommate.

"You boys," Karl chastised the pair by clicking his tongue and shaking his head, "Twenty thousand plus in gambling debts. Dice... bike racing... you both seem a bit too mellow for any of that."

"I had some early wins," Tular protested.

"Uhm, am I able to go?" Bennett asked.

"Sure," Karl gestured towards the doorway, "If you can make it past my partner here." As if on cue, the Tigran waved his sharpened claws in the air in the pair's direction. The Saurian's blue scales along with the Human's cheeks paled as they watched the claws.

Another Saurian might have taken on the Tigran. A good bite with sharp Saurian teeth, and a number of Saurian also had claws on their hands and toughened scales to protect them. The only hope that a Human had when facing a Tigran was if they could grab a weapon. None were available except for a nearby ashtray.

"You borrow from Timon Partha and you don't pay back. What's made him angry is that you don't come by and see him about this. Maybe set up a payment planet after you humble yourselves. Do something instead of laying low, having us come find you," Jenkins shook his head and asked over his shoulder, "What did the SKipper say we do to them?"

"Toss Vek into the trunk of your hovercraft, drive to the north cliffs, and then toss him leg-first so that he'd have to crawl on broken knees back to town, maybe get picked off by one of the scorpids," Tangiers' answered. They had not actually received any specific orders from their Captain. It was a good default threat to go to, especially on people who lacked any sort of protection.

"Now, I don't want to do that. To me, this is a job to make money, this is not a passion of mine. Now next time, it won't be us. It will be people who enjoy a bit of violence in their lives," Karl said, acting as the advocate, "They'll be the next to come around and not even collect anything, they'll just be looking to thrash you. So, I ask you gentlemen, what do you have, or what are you going to do to make this right with the Skipper?"

Silence lingered in the room. After a pause, Tular spread his hands outward from his body and he said: "Take anything you see here. It's yours."

"Nothing in here seems close to what you need for a down payment, with interest." Tangiers said, glancing from one side to the other. They had found some clothing, pieces of technology that was a hair out of date from the latest equipment rolling into the Raygun Heights. Nothing that anyone could get from the second rate dealers or the junkers, "You need some hard currency now, or we are taking you for a ride."