No one spoke. The only sounds in the room were of weapons being checked, equipment being attached to belts, and those belts going through their own verification rounds.

  Noa checked her magazine before she slid it back into her pistol for the umpteenth time. Her mind was bereft of anything but the checklist she had herself made for this outing.

  She knew that, although it was something she hadn’t done before, she was well trained for it, from basic fighting and urban survival techniques when she was a child to more advanced knowledge in the last few years.

  Intel was solid; she knew her skills were solid, albeit untested in the field, with the unmistakable sense of slight fear tugging at her. Yet she could admit she was somewhat nervous. And her mind kept having to swat unruly thoughts away.

  A tap on her shoulder pulled her away from her thoughts with relief as she turned and raised her head to Sawyer, one of the men she picked, and Hassan approved to accompany her on this mission.

  “Big guy wants to see you.” He smiled as he thumbed toward the direction where Hassan was standing by the doorway, whose eyes watched everyone in the room with the calculated coldness of a hawk.

  She nodded curtly at him and smiled, patting his shoulder before heading towards Hassan.

  “You ready? Got everything verified?”

  Noa dipped her chin; Hassan’s face and voice prompted her of what he had always reminded her of. ‘No plan survives contact’ and was one of the major motivating forces behind his rigorous training of her and her enthusiastic acceptance of whatever was thrown toward her.

  Hassan’s large, implanted arms were crossed over his chest as he looked at the other two who were in the room, and then his gaze turned back to her.

  His mouth started to open when he saw Noa lift her arms to the side; he smiled; she knew exactly what he was about to say.

  He tapped the magazine pouches on Noa and tugged at the body armor she had on. His hands then checked on the plating she had chosen to use for her shoulder, thighs, and forearms. Each was skilfully slotted into their respective slots on her jacket and pants.

  He moved around her and continued his check before he stood in front of her again.

  “Back up?”

  Noa smiled, and her hands moved—one toward her balisong, which snugly sat on the side of her belt, and another toward a steel baton on her right hip.

  His head cocked to the side, and he shook his head.

  “Let’s try this, shall we? Take it as an… early graduation present, both for uni and your training.”

  His hand dug into the pouch bag he always carried around him, reappearing with a dark-hilted knife that sat in an equally dark sheath.

  Noa’s eyes bulged. She knew what it was; she had read battle reports about its usage and had always aimed to get one once she graduated.

  He smiled knowingly and held it toward her.

  “I knew you’d like it.”

  She almost gasped as she took it, then smoothly unhooked the catch on the sheath as she drew the knife out almost too delicately. The red electronics embedded within the top corner of the blade strongly contrasted with the dark metal. She gripped the handle and turned it around, smiling wide.

  “Know how to use it?” He watched her as she marveled at it.

  She nodded, and her thumb pressed and stayed pressed for a few moments on a specific spot on the handle before the red wiring lit up and died down again. She could swear the blade was humming as she felt the heat emanating from its edge.

  He leaned back, arms crossed.

  “Brief run down… of the blade.”

  Noa couldn’t help but look at him with a wide smile, the side of her lip rising higher.

  “Blademaster TB12, Military issue only. Powered blade cuts through any soft body armor and lower grades of hard body armor. Due to an uproar from the armor manufacturers, its production was banned and stopped within a year after it was introduced into the market. The ones that had been sold were taken back and recycled, although reports have stated that there are still many out there. Additionally, while there have been cases otherwise, it's recommended…”

  The last word was deliberately stressed, and her eyes looked at Hassan while pausing to emphasize it before continuing,

  “... that it's not to be thrown.”

  She chuckled at the last statement as she recalled what she read.

  He nodded slowly, proudly.

  “How does it feel in your hand?”

  “It’s fuckin’ daze!” she chuckled, delight shimmering in her green eyes as she moved her left hand. Twirling the blade and testing its weight.

  “Now remember, the knife requires a lot of TLC. She can take a beating, but after each outing and usage, maintenance is the key to keeping it functioning any time you need it.”

  Noa nodded and smiled, taking the balisong out of her equipment belt and replacing it with the new knife. She paused as she held the balisong in her hand, then slid it into one of the many pouches on her belt.

  “Now, walk me through the plan again, including whatever contingencies you have. I don’t need to remind you, but I will. This area is considered neutral among the gangs of the quad-city, and the Free Nation Gang Coalition runs it. Have you met any of them?”

  Noa shook her head. “Nope.”

  He nodded. “Okay. These guys aren’t your typical lowbie city denizens. A majority of them are made up of immigrants from the Western Nations. Hence, they have different values. IF you want to avoid any unnecessary trouble, then just keep your more… combative instincts on a tight leash.”

  Noa nodded but seemed detached.

  “Hey, Noa, you listening?”

  She smirked, “Yes, Sir.”

  His eyes squinted as he looked at her mischievous smirk. “Combative instincts on a leash… a very short one, understand.”

  She nodded curtly.

  He looked at her and fished out a small metallic box, holding it up to her.

  “Eye HUD.”

  She nodded and took it, tilting her head back as she gingerly placed it onto her left eye. The left eye blinked a few times before she inserted another into her right eye. She sat motionless as her eyes blinked rapidly. The HUD turned on as she blinked her eyes at a specific sequence and speed.

  Hassan chuckled, “Well, I see you switched it on already. It’s the same as the one we’ve used in training.”

  Noa smiled at him and nodded. The HUD lenses were a stop-gap alternative to non-implant wearers, and they communicated with whatever peripherals they were paired with on the user. Noa deftly took out the hardware modules in the small metallic box and fixed a cylindrical module to the bottom of her pistol.

  She dug into the box and picked up another, which she slid up to the helix of her left ear. Her fingers brushed against the small loops around that part of her ear. She sighed and clipped the module on the helix of her right ear before blinking her eyes again.

  Finally, she fished out two equally sized items from the box and inserted them into an equally sized slot in the palm of both of her fingerless gloves. It slid snugly into the slot, and she raised a hand up while her fingers moved in a sequence. A light blinked on the small chip before more information appeared on her HUD. Her hand gripped the handle of her pistol, and the ammunition information from her pistol appeared on her HUD.

  “Ready yet?”

  Noa shook her head before slowly twisting a dial on the small hardware module she had affixed to her pistol. She stopped when a light blinked at the top of the cylinder, which coupled with crosshairs appearing on her HUD. After which, she curtly dipped her chin.

  “Set.”

  He studied her and nodded.

  “Okay, now, walk me through everything again, but keep it concise.”

  —--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Their transport was five minutes away from their landing zone, where a wheeled vehicle would take them to their objective location.

  Sawyer and Lefevbre sat across from Noa on the benches that lined the sides of the hover vehicle's passenger bay. Although they were veterans in their own right, they were both familiar with her and equally impressed with how she had always performed during training.

  Noa’s mind wandered. Thoughts of what was going on with Anya and her friends occupied her. There was a nagging feeling that this went deeper than what had been seen so far. As far as she was concerned, they had better stay away from Anya, or things would get bad faster than they could say ‘Augouw’s ass.’

  She was somewhat thankful it happened this way, though. It’s given her the opportunity to put into practice what she had been trained for all these years, and part of her welcomed it heartily.

  Her fingers slid over the dark scabbard of the knife Hassan had given her; it somehow helped focus her thoughts as she continued her pondering.

  Closing her eyes, her mind tried to draw from the limited knowledge of how things worked on the streets, and it irked her that there wasn’t much knowledge at all about it. These are things you can’t learn in SEHIL, perhaps even any school system within the Dominion: she smirked, knowing full well about the quality of education outside of High Rises.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “So, Noa. How do you feel?” Sawyer suddenly spoke up, pulling her away from her revelry.

  She looked up at him, perplexed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “First real mission. Nervous? Scared?”

  She looked at him momentarily before giving him a curt nod and a smile.

  He smirked and nodded back. “Good, it's better you feel that way. Only idiots don’t feel fear. It’s not a question of nervousness or fear but a matter of how you overcome it. The training helps. Just focus on the task; your training will come into play when the time comes. I sure hope we don’t need to use all of it.”

  Noa’s right lip bent up as she dipped her chin in appreciation. She was wary of everyone except Hassan, being fully aware of who she was in their eyes. Not just any person or young woman, but an Essedar, and that alone meant she had a lot to carry around with her. There were always people watching, regardless of how or what you do.

  “Two minutes!” the pilot announced, and she tapped a spot behind her ear. Since she was still a student in SEHIL and couldn’t have any implants; Hassan had issued her a small comm chip - half the size of her pinky nail - that was attached to the edge of her ear canal for her communications.

  A voice answered her call. “Yes, this is Henderson.”

  “Henderson, it’s Noa, vik prepped?”

  “Prepped and waiting, Noa.”

  “Daze, see you in a bit.”

  She looked at the two men opposite her, then moved her hand, signaling to get ready for disembarkation.

  The hover transport shuddered as it landed, the side ramp opening up before the three of them alighted to a waiting Henderson by a faded black pick-up truck.

  They greeted each other familiarly. Henderson worked for House Intel but was the person to go to whenever House Security Services needed assistance in the city.

  The drive was brief, but it felt like forever for her. She just wanted to get this done, and she wanted to do it well. Why do something if it's not done well, anyway? Her thoughts drifted to Anya and her sister’s friends, or at least the ones that hung around her; she wondered if they were doing her younger sibling any good.

  The relative cleanliness of the street surprised Noa as she alighted from her vehicle. She rounded the corner of the vehicle and tapped on the driver’s window.

  “You know the deets?”

  Henderson nodded. “Yep. Good hunting.”

  She smirked at him and spun around, walking toward the bar where their target was supposed to spend most of his time. Sawyer and Lefevbre had disappeared on their own roles within the mission outline that she had drawn out. And she knew they had already entered.

  She checked her hair one last time. She had opted to tie her shoulder-length hair into a lazy ponytail to cover her ears. Then she stood at the bar's door, which slid open.

  The Cackling Cactus was a rather big bar, complete with a dance floor and stage for the many live shows it hosted. Noa walked in and felt eyes on her, some brief, others lingered. Her eyes were as if looking ahead while she scoped the place out. Then she turned her head, pretending to check out the place and the people there.

  Her mind noted everything within her vision, including peripheries. Making particular note of potential exits and entrances and how each person was potentially a threat or strict civilian. She had seen the layout on screen, and it felt better when she saw it was as shown. As she approached the bar, patrons of various ilk and dressing were scattered among the different tables and decided to ignore her, and their conversations restarted..

  Inwardly, she was glad she had opted to use her jacket, as bulky jackets seemed normal in this part of Lowbie town.

  “What will it be, beautiful?” The bartender, a woman twice her age with jagged lines inked down either side of her face, smiled brightly at her. Her long dreads changed color every few minutes, timed with the soft background beat of a song that played in the bar.

  Noa smiled, her eyes admiring the woman’s hair, “Vodka, please, neat.”

  The lady glanced at her momentarily before picking out a bottle from high on the shelves of bottles behind her and poured one before she slid it toward Noa.

  “Merc?” the lady whispered before she pulled away. Noa smiled at her and winked in response.

  Noa studied her moves, which seemed deliberate yet unpretentious. They felt steady in a place where helter-skelter was the norm. She grasped at the edges of the glass as she paid the lady and sat down, sipping the drink.

  It tasted vile to her, and she grimaced. This was nothing like the vodka in High Rise, but she couldn’t show it outwardly; she was supposed to be used to this quality of drink.

  She scanned the patrons again, this time with added deliberation. She paused at each one that closely matched the description of her target and found him sooner than she had budgeted for.

  Her hand moved up, pretending to scratch behind her ear as she tapped it.

  “Target identified; I don’t see any of his goons, though.”

  “They’re around, trust me on that.” Sawyer shot back.

  “OK, keep your eyes peeled, I’m going in.”

  Just as she got up, she felt a hand grasp at her hip. She spun and slammed the now empty tumbler into the side of the man who did it. Strong enough to make an impression, yet not enough to break the thick bottom of the glass.

  A few patrons gasped at what happened. The woman behind the counter chuckled as the man gripped the bar counter, shock in his eyes.

  “I was just copping a feel!” The man cried out, his speech heavily accented.

  Noa glared at him. “Go cop a feel on some Augouw, kerb.” She hissed.

  She turned and saw that the man had gotten up, heading toward the back of the bar.

  “Target on the move.”

  “Got it; I see at least two kerbs with him.”

  Noa nodded and started heading toward where the target had disappeared. She was stopped in her tracks as someone grasped at her shoulder, almost pulling her back.

  She spun and saw the man she had hit earlier. He was rubbing the obvious bump on his cheekbone that Noa had given him; he snarled; a burly man stood at his side.

  “I’ll fockin teach you a lesson, blud.”

  Noa inhaled deeply as she felt her body prepare itself, one hand moving back to grasp at the handle of her knife before the bartender’s voice broke the air, much louder than when she had served her and easily heard over the music; it was in a language she couldn’t recognize, seemingly addressing the man that grabbed her.

  He turned and retorted back at the woman in the same language, and the woman brought up a shotgun from under the bar counter she was standing behind. The man relented immediately, his hands raised in submission.

  Noa didn’t hear her apology as she spun around and ran toward the back of the bar, her eyes noting two others who were bearing down on her from either side.

  They were on an intercept course before Sawyer and Lefevbre intercepted both, cutting them off as Noa reached the backdoor. The sign over it flickered with the image of a cat and a rooster.

  She pushed past the flimsy door, which opened into a dank corridor with dim red lighting. The end of the corridor split into a left and a right.

  “Fuck” she whispered softly and turned right, where the sign above the door was of a rooster.

  She barged past the door and was greeted by a man standing at a urinal. Ignoring him, she headed straight for the two closed doors on the other side of the bathroom. She slammed one door open before doing the same to the other. Her eyes darted around. There was no exit safe for a barred window high up.

  She spun around as the man at the urinal said something that didn’t register in her mind. Then, she rushed out before she headed the other way, where the sign above the door showed a sitting cat.

  As she entered the restroom, she could feel and smell the familiar damp air of Lowbie town. She headed straight for one of the three closed stall doors and kicked it open. The door snapped open, and she looked up and saw the same bars, but these were leaning inward and opening to an opened window.

  Her brows frowned, wondering how he squeezed through it, as she tapped behind her ear.

  “Kerb is out, street.”

  “Copy, have subdued his buds.” Sawyer shot back as Noa ran back.

  Noa sprinted from the corridor through the bar. Sawyer and Lefevbre were gone now, and she could see the bartender talking to two men who were tied and sat down at a table. The mood of the place seemed to have picked up from when she entered, and she could feel eyes on her before she burst out the door.

  “Sawyer?”

  Sawyer’s panting reply came back: “On him, headed west down the alley. Sending you projected routes.”

  Noa’s HUD lit up as a message reached her, and she opened it on her HUD: three points where back alleys led to the main streets; she nodded to herself and started running.

  “Going to exit two.”

  “Got it, we’ll cover the others.”

  She ran past one block, turned south as she reached the main street, and stopped abruptly.

  In front of her stood three men and a woman. They seemed to be waiting for her.

  She inhaled, calming herself as she looked at each of them.

  “Stand aside, please.” She said firmly and without belligerence.

  One of the men smirked as he took a step closer, malice on his face as his eyes lit up red. He was tapping a large spiked bat in his hand.

  Noa sighed and gritted her teeth, repeating what she said as the man got closer.

  He grunted something in the same language she heard earlier in the bar and raised the bat in hand. His feet showed that he was about to burst into a run toward her when she pulled her pistol out from its holster and pointed it straight at him.

  “I said, stand aside… please.” She said again, emphasizing the last word.

  The man froze but then chuckled hoarsely.

  “Are you dense kerb? Step the fuck aside! I won’t say again.”

  He leaned his head sideways, addressing one of his companions in the same language.

  “He says you don’t know how to use it. And even if you do, you won’t be able to pull the trigger.”

  Noa shot a look at the woman who translated what the big man was saying, and she smirked. Hassan’s voice echoed in her head, reminding her of who controls this part of Lowbie town and to keep things civil.

  “I don’t want trouble. Let me through, and you can go back to your mamas.” Noa replied, holding her aim.

  “You lie, pussy no shoot.” The man chuckled as he grunted out his broken reply.

  Noa sighed and appeared to relax just as she suddenly shot at his knee, blowing his kneecap away. The large man fell immediately to the ground, screaming out what seemed to be cussing.

  She smirked, ‘you don't have to understand that,’ her mind mused.

  The others stood frozen as they watched. Noa aimed her pistol at them again.

  “Anyone else?” Her eyes studied each of them; none moved as they held their hands high.

  “Noa, where are you? We got him.” Sawyer’s voice suddenly came over her communicator.

  “Moment. Got some kerbs trying to flex.”

  There was a pause before a reply came back. “You alright? Need backup?”

  “All good here, you got him? Meet you back at rally point.”

  “Copy, see you there.”

  Noa lowered her pistol as she looked at the other three, still frozen in place, and she slowly backed away, allowing them to approach their still-cussing comrade on the ground.

  She strode back, a smile on her face. Her senses were wired; she could feel things around her. Somehow, the noise around the streets seemed clearer to her. As she walked past the door of the bar she was in, a new feeling tapped at her senses; it made her turn.

  The woman who had served her the drink earlier was standing at the entrance, smiling satisfiedly.

  “Where you from young girl with silver hair?” She asked, her voice warm and friendly.

  Noa returned her smile, liking this woman’s tone and demeanor. After pondering, she hurriedly concluded how to reply.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that.”

  The woman smiled. “You have good instinct. I can sense the warrior in you. You should do more work in lokit city.”

  Noa frowned as she shook her head. “Pardon?”

  The woman chuckled. “Four cities, that is what you call this place, yes?”

  Noa nodded, her curiosity piqued. “Y… es.”

  The woman smiled and nodded slowly. “Thank your friends for the payment and not doing any killing in my bar. Whenever you come back to this area, ask for Eaglechatter.”

  Noa was confused now, and it was etched on her face, so much so that the woman chuckled.

  “You don’t have to understand. Just remember the name?” She said, her face amused.

  Noa slowly raised and dipped her chin before shrugging.

  “Yes, sure. Eaglechatter. Got it. Thanks.”

  She turned and ran toward the agreed-upon rally point with the others, her mind still confused by the exchange she had just had as she saw the vehicle and the men who waited for her.