"Sargent, stand back."

"I'm telling you- you're worried about nothing."

"A 406-that's a-"

"Goddammit 'Nita, get the fuck away from the-"

"...Jackson!"

Anita's eyes shot open as she sat up in bed, clutching her racing heart within her chest. Nothing stirred save for her ragged breaths gradually slowing until there was nothing but silence radiating from the cold. She looked around, taking in her surroundings. This wasn't the airlock, this was her room.

The clock set upon her nightstand read 4:01AM and with a sigh she flopped back into bed.

It had seemed so real. Then again, it always did. The hiss of the airlock breaking always lingered until nothing was left but a hollow ringing in her ears. It had been years since she'd been separated from him yet the nightmares continued.

To say she missed him was an understatement.

Wiping the tears of anxiety from the corners of her eyes she decided to pull herself out of bed. Tracing her fingertips along the wall, she flicked a switch for the strip of led lights lining the back splash in the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator door, pulling out a water purifier and filling a glass. She stood with her back to the bar top, staring out the window adjacent to the balcony. Streams of water trickled down the pane, the storm raging on overhead.

She loved the sound of thunder. It brought back memories from the war-the good ones, the ones where the IMC had the upper hand. Feeling the rumble through her bones as she coursed through the battlefield, the hailing bombardment of her airstrikes ripping into the fresh dirt and blowing up behind her stride as she skirted through danger.

There was not a target she could not down nor a skull she couldn't splinter. A smile of victory gracing her cheeks looking back as Jackson shot down their enemies from his ship.

That's all that was left now, memories. Some bittersweet, most devastating. Many involving her walking down a broken road on an empty planet surrounded by the smell of death. Alone.

She set down her glass, arms wrapping around her shoulders. The hairs on the back of her neck rose sharply as she felt something else with her in the room.

Jackson?

No, this was something else. Something dark. Sinister, even.

She reached for a knife sticking out of the block, whirling around in time to smell something old yet foreign.

Ashes.

With the knife held tightly to her side, she patted the wall searching for the light switch in the dark. A flicker of lightning crept across her living room floor, flashing her an image of muddy footprints across the floor in its wake.

"Better put that knife down."

The deep voice in her left ear made her spin on her feet, swinging the knife at the source when she came face to face with a blood splattered skull. Before she could react a clawed hand knocked it away and discarded it on the floor. Another hand found its way over her mouth as Revenant pushed her back into the wall, muffling her cries.

"Quiet."

Anita's eyes filled with a mixture of fear and anger, seething at the stranger now standing in her kitchen with her. What was this thing!?

They stood in the silence, listening as the sound of a ship glided slowly above her residence. The bright white of a spotlight lit up her balcony, filtering through the tinted glass as they searched for him.

Anita's hands trembled at her side but she held fast. Being a solider and now a bloodsport combatant, there was not many things left on the Frontier that could even so much as make her twitch. This however, was something completely unheard of. She could fight back, oh how she wanted to. She could scream, kick, bite. They always went down, one way or another. But the sheer grip strength demonstrated by this...

Probably not a risk worth taking.

She could taste the blood of someone against her lips. The scent of gunpowder clung to his claws as he glanced over his shoulder, eyes watching his pursuers through the walls as they combed through the suburbs. He waited until the whir of jets eventually left the area until he turned his gaze back to her, two orange beacons burning in the dark.

"I'm gonna go ahead and remove my hand. If you scream, you die. If you can shut your trap long enough for me to talk to you, you'll be spared. For however long is up to you."

Fuck.

With a reluctant nod, she agreed.

Revenant kept his word, slowly pulling back his clawed hand and letting her breath. Her eyes never once left his.

Her lips flared, teeth glinting in the shallow light, "What the fuck are you doing in my home?"

He laughed softly, the glow of his eyes fixated back on hers, "Hiding."

"Hiding? From what?" She growled.

"I ask the questions. You, shut it."

Oh, she was feeling keen on shutting him up.

"It doesn't matter who or what from. I just need somewhere to bide my time."

Anita had no clue why the next words left her mouth, but they did.

"Well you can walk your ass out of here and find somewhere else. While you still can."

Huh. Well, she was cocky.

"Quite the mouth on you." He growled.

"Best you get out before I blow yours off."

Revenant cocked his head to the side, intrigued, "Is that so?"

Without a blink, she reached for her waistband and drew a concealed RE-45, shoving the muzzle up under his chin.

"You got it, motherfucker."

He had to laugh at her tenacity. The girl had some grit. Too bad she'd waste it in vain.

Revenant grabbed the pistol but Anita held firm. Planting herself, she shifted her weight on her foot and swung a leg at him, hitting him dead in the chest. He let out a soft wheeze as it collided with one of his ruptured cylinders, black oil now sputtering over her ankle. A set of claws snatched at her but she dove to the side, watching them glint under the light as he narrowly missed and dug into the marble floor.

Knocking the gun away from him, he lunged at her only for her to roll onto her back and smash two feet into his jaw. He shouldn't have reeled but he did. His head snapped towards the gun on the floor and he dove for it, only to feel her weight on his back.

Huh?

He stood up, glancing over his shoulder at the woman now holding onto him. He grabbed at her but she wrapped her legs around his torso, a hand atop his head as she knocked him off balance and onto the floor. Anita let out a whine of pain as nearly 250lbs of metal crushed her against the ground. Revenant scooped up her autopistol and stood over her, aiming down at her head.

"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

Her hand found the hilt of the knife on the floor and she rose up with a vengeance, swinging it wildly at him. He had to laugh, this was amusing if anything. He grabbed a handful of her hair and held her back, her eyes filled with fire now. Her hands grabbed his forearm as she pulled herself up with a surprising display of strength, legs wrapping around his neck. Revenant had not expected that.

With the grip of her muscular thighs she threw him off balance a second time, this time forcing him onto his back. As he fell down she straddled his waist and buried the knife into his throat.

..Goddamn.

Anita snatched the gun from him and aimed down her sights, straight at the center of his skull.

They stared each other down, waiting for the other to move.

Kill her, dammit. Finish the job.

Revenant hesitated. He didn't move. Neither did she.

Why didn't she pull the trigger? Enforcement was hot on his trail. All it would take is one gunshot to locate him and they'd find what they were looking for.

Shoot this fuck and call the police.

They stayed that way for a moment until Anita broke the tension.

"You have two minutes."

Revenant muttered low, "Until what?"

"That's all the time you need to get out of my house."

Revenant pondered the possibilities. Kill her now and take her weapons and whatever she had stashed in the apartment. Or, consider a truce and escape while sparing her. Her gun never wavered from his face.

Hmm.

He didn't know why he decided the latter, but he did. Momentary peacekeeping? Since when the fuck did that happen?

"Deal."

Anita blinked. This thing agreed? Wait-why did she offer..?

She hesitated, but eventually stood up, the machine still in her sights. He growled, sliding the knife out from his neck, black liquid dripping from the stainless steel blade.

"Put it down. On the counter."

The simulacrum scoffed, "Fat chance."

"One minute left and I can revoke it."

He paused. She waited.

The soft click of metal on granite was the only thing that made her take her eyes off him. The bloody knife now lie neatly on the bar top.

Her stiff upper lip remained as she slowly lowered her weapon, eyes mixed with anger and uncertainty. He watched until the gun rested by her side left before clutching his chest again.

There it was, the real reason he spared her.

Hydraulic oil seeped into his hand as he stood up, feeling parts of his upper body depressurize. He'd never admit it, but Arsenault's Spectres did a number on him. Without another word he made his way back towards the balcony, sliding open the glass door and disappearing into the night.

She waited a moment before locking the door after him, hands trembling as she put her gun down. She finally let out the breath she'd been holding in, air escaping her lips in short bouts. What the hell had just transpired? A million questions flooded her brain, none of them good. And the worst thought of them all? Why did she spare its life? She turned on all the lights and began to thoroughly inspect every doorway, entrance and hiding spot imaginable within her home.

He stumbled down the alleys of the suburbia full of disappointment. He'd gathered no weapons, no ammunition and sourced no repairs. He estimated he had about a day or two left before he'd need to stop running and tend to his wounds. He still couldn't believe he allowed that woman to drive a knife into his fucking neck. He let this happen too often and he'd get himself killed-by a skin bag no less.

In his defense, that woman was no average civilian.

With the anticipation of the inevitable slow rising horizon before him, he had to find somewhere he could properly recuperate. However, as anyone on the run knew repairs and supplies come at a cost. Luckily for him, Revenant was well seasoned and knew just the place to start looking.

Pulling up his device he typed a query into the search bar, thumbing through them until he settled on a reasonable request.

'Hitmen wanted for hire. Mercenary bounties available.'