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She pushed back her hood and gave a wry, conceding nod. ‘Tugen, good to see you.’
He reared his head in shock. Then rushed around his mobile droid to embrace her. ‘Fokk! Sana’a? Is it you for real? Where did you get to after the L’yiki skirmish? You just disappeared off the face of Pegasi.’
‘Had places to go and people to see.’
His long-lashed eyes, the single beguiling feature on his face, sparkled with memories. ‘Damn, remember when we flushed a dozen Falasian rats out of their cave? Caught them with pants down, sitting on a weapons haul large enough to nuke an entire planet?’
‘I do recall,’ Sana’a drawled. ‘Only too well. Heck, we iced them.’
Which just managed to slow the all-out genocide of her people.
He grinned at her and waved her past the checkpoint. ‘Get in there, and come by for a drink when you’re done with your bizna.’
‘Sante.’ She gave him a mini salute and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, walking on.
As soon as she was round the corner, her metsai cloak changed colour, and she pulled its shroud close over her head.
Her cape shifted shape and hue a few more times as she boarded a maglev train for Eden Central.
She had no intention of running into any more of the mercs she’d served alongside in various insurgencies throughout Pegasi.
It didn’t help that most racketeers and outlaws in the galaxy had either faced her blades or had a hankering to hire her for their lethal touch.
Neither did she want attention from officials who’d amassed a pile of bounties in her name.
She pushed out of the transport and into a crowded avenue, packed with workers scurrying home and revellers getting ready to paint the cityscape red.
None of the surrounding gleaming scapes that made Eden II such a drawcard for visitors caught her fancy.
In the distance gleamed Old Town’s temples and ancient monasteries, where tourists thronged to the Paladian sites.
To stare at statues of age-old gods and hundreds of artefacts, their imaginations captured by legends of the long-gone deities, of which Sana’a had zero time for.
She stepped onto the pavement, crossed the busy avenue, and headed towards a neon sign above the entrance to a venue.
It flickered and hummed, casting a golden glow over the street.
The BirdKage.
The infamous bar was one establishment amongst many run by the infamous Sable Riders.
She sucked her teeth at the inevitable. She’d need to watch her step while within its confines.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed on the door.
She walked into an expansive lobby and paused, sending a neural command to her metsai cloak and suit.
It changed form, moulding onto her into a contouring metallic dress that caressed her curves and stopped just below her mid-thigh. It outlined her full breasts yet concealed a wealth of folds to hide her blades.
She hoped it would be enough to entice her quarry.
Her crushers altered into knee-high leather boots with pointed toes and slanted heels for a chic touch.
They also acted as a hidden holster for her sleek phaser.
Last, she ran her metsai glove over her face.
It deposited the right amount of coloured layers to highlight her contours. Transforming her face from a make-up free, forgettable visage into a high-cheekboned, glossy-lipped beauty.
