She'd thought the docks would be calmer.

She was wrong.

Quixxa tried to measure her breath as Runt helped her along behind Jonah and his team. Their human mercenaries were in a spearpoint formation, weapons drawn and shouldered, screaming down the mob that was protesting the presence of Obsidian on New Medina. The smell of sweat and body odor filled her nose and made her even more nauseous as their jeers and promises of unspeakable deaths chipped away at her sanity.

Quix grit her teeth and tried to ignore the flecks of spit spattering her cheeks as they made their way to the sealed blast doors.

Runt leaned over to her, and nudged her shoulder.

"Good thing you've got some mercenary friends. This mob would kill us if we were alone."

Runt's computer-filtered voice betrayed none of the concern and anxiety she knew he had. And it didn't' even begin to cover the stress she was under, knowing just who'd she'd angered.

And even more so, who she would now have to please. The MLA was easy to please. Just obey.

Pathmos, though? They wanted free, thoughtful, respectable citizens. And she wasn't sure she had it in her to learn a whole new set of tricks.

Jonah and the team turned inside out as they reached the blast door, moving from a spearhead to a protective line between Runt and her and the mob.

Runt, meanwhile, was contacting the people inside over the communications in his suit.

But Quix...

Quix was worrying.

Being tied to Runt was one thing. Counting on him to protect her future was one thing. Being thrown into a lion's den was another. Behind those doors, she wasn't in her element anymore. An Obsidian headquarters wasn't the street, a break room wasn't a back alley, and an office wasn't a warehouse. The shadowed safety she'd clung to in obscurity and deception disappeared in the lights of an office.

Because she wasn't a normal citizen. Someone was bound to ask what she did, where she was from, or how she knew Runt. The only answers she could give were lies. Any truth would brand her with the well-deserved label of a criminal, an extremist, someone that deserved to stay on this side of the blast door, not the other.

She was headed into a place where no one was her friend. New Medina had been neutral, for the most part. New Medina only cared for itself.

But this bunker... it was a tiny slice of Pathmos, her new home. The first place where she had to try and step past her old self, and into the new. She had to leave her crime, her anger, her lies, and her ties behind on this side of the door.

It was her first step, and she was certain to stumble.

Quixxa swallowed, her chest tight and her guts sore. She stared straight ahead numbly, her fingers tingling as she made fists out of instinct. Even her tail was curling around her discreetly, betraying the fear that made her skin crawl.

The sudden blare of a klaxon and the flash of safety strobes snapped Quix out of her headspace, making her heart jump. Her chest ached, giving her an instant headache and forcing her breath to shorten. Another shot of fear slipped into her bloodstream as the realization struck her that she was taking her first step, yes, but she was taking it as vulnerably as she could have been, before the eyes of those she had to please.

The blast doors slipped open by about three feet and halted, leaving a gap for them to slip through.

The crowd immediately started to push against the no-man's land created by the mercenaries' weapons. The shouting only intensified as Runt slipped through first, bringing Quixxa with him.

The sound from outside immediately started to deaden as Jonah's squad backed in, guns still leveled.

Quixxa, however, wasn't paying attention to the sounds from outside. She was trying to concentrate on her heartbeat.

She was face to face with her new life.

Just inside the door, a dozen or more people were waiting, several of them with guns. She stiffened and hesitated as soon as she noticed the firearms, not wanting to move closer.

But Runt had another idea.

Runt pulled his helmet off and sighed happily while the blast door closed out the sound of the crowd. He smiled broadly and spread his arms just as wide in greeting as he plodded over to a few of the people.

"Maya!" he said, hugging a human, and then embracing a Rojax. "And Juan, oh, geez guys, it's great to see you!" he said.

Quixxa cocked her head as the group of people with guns, the group she'd just been watching suspiciously collapsed in on Runt with hugs, pats on the back and questions about his health and safety. Her instincts jumped as she watched a Kavera lift Runt off his feet, but they settled as she realized Runt was simply getting a bear hug from the huge man. The guns had already disappeared into the folds of jackets or been tucked into holsters, and smiles had replaced them. She simply stood back, watching at a distance as a whole new swarm of people arrived from further inside the bunker and greeted Runt with smiles and pats on the back.

He's really got friends... She thought.

It wasn't a bitter thought. It was comforting.

He could have had this.

And yet, he stuck with her.

She smiled a little, knowing that even here she had a friend.

Runt finally managed to quiet the crowd inside the bunker and step back, his helmet on his hip and a nervous smile on his lips.

"Hey, everyone, I wanna introduce you to my friends. These guys are some security friends of ours, they helped us get here without trouble." He said, motioning to Joshua as he walked back towards Quix.

He stopped at her side and put an arm over her shoulder.

"And this is Quixxa, my best friend. They're staying with us for a while." He announced matter-of-factly.

All eyes turned to her the moment he'd labeled her his best friend.

She wanted to hide. If not because of the lingering smell of vomit and the stains on her clothes, then because of the clinging smell of guilt and the blots on her soul.

"Quix, these are my friends from Obsidian."

Quixxa looked back at them.

They all seemed so... normal. So civilian. They seemed like the types who had a retirement plan, perhaps a bucket list, maybe the kind who went back to a broad table rimmed with family for holidays and spent their spare hours on vid-chats with loved ones lightyears away. Not a one of them struck Quixxa as her type. She was willing to bet that not one of them had worse than a misdemeanor.

And she, an accomplice to terror, was supposed to befriend them?

She had high hopes, and Runt had higher expectations. But something about the genuine and welcoming smiles that greeted her made her wish she could go back to hiding.

"Hey." She said, giving an awkward wave as she tried to introduce herself. "Nice to meet you guys."

There was a short, awkward pause before Runt started to talk again.

"Uh... ok, so let's get everybody settled in." he said, gently waving the mercenaries forwards and tugging at Quixxa with his eyes. "We've got lots of spare bunks, and the showers are open."

The greeting party started to disperse a little as Runt and the team walked forward. One or two stayed and offered to help Jonah and his men with their bags and cases.

Quixxa wasn't going to be parted with her backpack though.

"Runt, we could use you in the meeting room." One of the people said as he walked away.

Runt nodded, and glanced at Quix.

"Don't worry, I'll get you settled." He said.

With that, Runt started to lead Quix into the room.

"Hey, Maya, wait up." Runt said loudly.

Quixxa watched a human woman stop and turn around to face Runt.

"Hey, I was wondering if you could take care of Quix." Runt said.

The human stuck her thumbs in her pockets and nodded.

"Yeah, sure, what do you need?" She asked.

"She needs some attention." He said, awkwardly looking at her for a minute. "Like, medical attention. And maybe some clothes I guess?"

"Just a place to wash these ones." Quix said.

Maya smiled. "Course'. The washing machine's down that hall," She said, pointing, "And I can help you out with whatever you need as long as it's not too complex."

Quixxa felt Runt pat her on the shoulder and start to leave her side.

She immediately felt the urge to hide.

"See you in a bit, Quix." Runt said, then glanced to the human. "And thanks Maya."

"No problem." Maya said, motioning to Quix as she started to walk.

Quixxa gave Runt an almost panicked expression as Maya tried to lead her away.

Runt glanced between his responsibilities and her. They both knew he had things to tend to. He shrugged, and gave her a thumbs up.

I'm screwed. She thought.

No time to collaborate their stories, no way to hide behind him, no way to use his credentials as a good man to hide her sins. It was her, and a stranger.

If it'd been a Pink Market transaction, she wouldn't have hesitated. But this was a civil, friendly opportunity to make a real friend and get to know someone that might even be a future co-worker.

The simple fact that nobody had anything more than a first impression to lose here made her uneasy. It just seemed like a trap. A mirage. It couldn't be this easy, could it?

This had to be a fake, right?

Maya led Quix to a side room and flicked on a bright white light that flooded the room with a pleasant tone. An exam table waited for Quix.

"So, what's the problem?" Maya asked, closing the door.

Quixxa knew it was for privacy. But it seemed like locking her in shackles.

"Uh, I got a pretty bad shock earlier today. My heartbeat's all screwed up now. I think." She said, crossing one arm in front of her.

Maya's brow rose.

"How bad?"

Quixxa shrugged.

"Pretty bad."

"Alright, well I can fix that up." She said, pacing over to the counter and starting to slip on sterile gloves. "Can I ask you to take off your shirt?"

"Sure." Quixxa said, slipping her fingers under her shirt and pulling it over her head in a fist motion. Unlike humans, she didn't have modesty to worry about. Unlike the human tending to her, Quixxa had no breasts, nor any other feature on her abdomen aside from the tightly-packed abs that made even muscular humans jealous.

She waited for a moment as Maya turned back around and approached Quixxa.

"Alright, got a shock huh? How's your main heartbeat?"

Quixxa shrugged.

"Decent I guess. Chest hurts."

Maya paced around the table to examine Quixxa's back. Quix pulled her tail to her side.

"Wow..." Maya said, gently tracing down Quixxa's back with her fingers. "What gave you this?" She asked.

Quixxa swallowed.

"The shock."

"Yeah, but how'd you get shocked this bad? You're whole back is bruised black and blue."

Quixxa instantly conjured up a thousand reasonable lies.

But she held her tongue for a short moment.

This wasn't a Pink Market thug. This was someone even Runt knew, and trusted enough to let her care for Quix. She didn't deserve a lie. And Quixxa didn't want to tell one. But she certainly didn't want to give away her background. She was better that this. She was different than she had been.

"Uh... some thugs found us." She said. "One of them shot me with a taser slug."

Maya's hands stopped moving across her back.

"You got shot?" She asked.

Quixxa felt her stomach tighten and her cheeks flash to red hot.

"Yeah..." She said quietly.

She sat. She waited. It seemed like an eternity as she expected harsh words, or shouts that there was an MLA agent in the building. But nothing came.

"Geez." She said at length. "Runt wasn't kidding when he said you were a tough cookie. This sucker looks like it hurts."

Maya chuckled.

Quix felt cold steel touch her back, and she flinched. She whipped around, pulling away from Maya.

Maya was standing there with a stethoscope.

"Woah, careful. Sorry, it's a little cold."

Quixxa relaxed, exhaling as she tried to convince herself that nothing was wrong.

Maybe nothing was wrong, besides her own heart.

"It's not the cold, sorry. I'm just jumpy."

Maya nodded as she put the stethoscope back against her skin. "Ah, right. Springer. Sorry to startle you."

There was silence as she listened to her heart.

"Alright, your big thumper's running smooth. Let's check the auxiliaries."

Quixxa let out her breath and lifted her right arm.

Maya pressed the stethoscope against her underarm and listened for the steady beat of one of Quixxa's other hearts. Springer's primary heart, of course, wasn't unlike a human heart. But their five spares, the hearts that kept their hydrostatic vessels pumped full, those were nothing like human hearts.

"This one's good." She said, letting the miniature heart alone and moving to Quixxa's other underarm.

After that, the middle of her back, followed by a spot just inside of Quixxa's hipbone.

"Whoa... that's not good..." Maya said, her brow furrowing as she listened to the right hip auxiliary. The stethoscope was slipped just under Quixxa's waistband.

"What's wrong?"

"Bad rhythm." Maya said, folding up the stethoscope. "You're gonna need a correction pack."

Quixxa pushed herself up and started to pick up her shirt off the table beside her.

"Do you have any of those?"

Maya nodded and set the stethoscope on the counter. She opened a cabinet.

"Yep. We kept a few around, mostly for Runt's sake. Looks like we're gonna get some use out of them though."

While the human had her back turned, Quixxa put her shirt on. Stained and smelly as it was, it provided something of a barrier. She didn't feel so exposed, in body or in soul, with it.

And she was feeling exposed. Exposed as a fraud.

But perhaps... perhaps there was a place here for well-intentioned frauds?

She swallowed. And she hoped.

"Alright, got one." Maya said, pulling a thin, self-adhesive pad out of the cabinet. A microbattery inside would carefully stimulate Quixxa's auxiliary back into rhythm over time after it was placed on her skin.

"Do you mind?" Maya asked, pulling the cover off the adhesive.

Quixxa tried not to blush or react as she silently pulled her waistband down a few inches to expose the smooth, grey-blue skin above one of her hearts. Maya tested the area briefly with two fingers before pressing the pad onto Quixxa's skin and activating it.

The cramp in Quixxa's leg instantly relaxed, making her whole body quiver. She pulled her shorts back up and shifted a few times, noticing a faint tingle in her hip.

"There you go. That's about all I can do for you, besides chat and have a few rounds of vodka with ya." Maya said with a grin. "I'd like to hear your 'getting shot' story. Gunplay always makes for a good story."

Quixxa's brow rose.

Maya just chuckled, and hiked up her left sleeve. A knotted scar sat on her bicep.

"That's a great story there. Involves an ex-boyfriend, three bottles of liquor, thirty gallons of bleach and a stolen houseplant. Best story of my life. I'll have to tell it to ya sometime."

Quixxa shrugged.

"Sounds fun." She said.

Geez, Quix...

"Maybe I could buy a round sometime. I've got a few good ones." Quix said, trying not to grit her teeth.

Maya smiled at Quixxa and nodded.

"Sounds like a plan." She said with a wink. "Hey, it was good to meet you. I'd love to chat more, but I've got stuff to look after right now. See you around?"

Quixxa's brow rose at the unusual invitation.

"Uh, yeah. Sure." She said.

"Great, see ya!" She said, and left.

Quixxa sat for another moment.

Not like I have anywhere to go...

Quixxa kicked her feet for a minute, thinking.

She was out of the MLA's reach for the most part... and she had Runt's help. She was beginning to think she even had God's tentative attention.

Maybe... Maybe she did have somewhere to go.

Up.

She certainly wasn't sinking any lower.

A few minutes and a whispered prayer later, Quixxa had found Runt. He was still getting plenty of attention, enough that she'd waited in the shadow of a water cooler until a few people vacated the room he was in. She eyed them as she slipped out of her hiding place and quietly paced to the doorway. Inside, Runt was sitting next to the Rojax in front of a screen, discussing item after item as Runt tapped away at the keys.

At least he's safe. She thought, glancing up at the painted concrete ceiling. There was plenty of bunker between her and the world. But there still wasn't enough time between her and her past for her to stride in, confident and anxious to meet someone new. Instead, she leaned on the door frame and listened, hoping Runt would notice her reflection in the screen.

"Most of the servers and communication hubs are still up..." Runt said, his fingers slowing on the keyboard. "I mean, besides anything orbiting. Those are gone. That said, I don't see why there's nobody talking on them. The data transfer and usage is less than it should be."

The Rojax, named Juan, gave runt an odd look.

"How would you know what the data loads are?"

Runt shrugged.

"Uh, I use some back channels to contact Obsidian now and then..." he said.

Quix rolled her eyes with a smile.

You're a crappy liar, Runt. She knew why he had those numbers on the top of his head. It was because he looked at them daily. And he tinkered with them hourly. At least, it seemed like it. Maybe in the grand scheme of things, he didn't have as much punch as she thought. But to her... It seemed like he was the master and commander of all things digital.

Juan shrugged. "Well, it's still not good." He said. "We've been monitoring all the hardwire channels, and like I said, nobody has even dropped a comms buoy. Along with that, the embassy is in full lockdown. We're not getting relief from them, and they said so themselves. The only place to turn is getting off-world, but we'd have to get to the docks from here."

Runt chewed his lip.

Quixxa already knew what the problem was.

"Docks are probably swamped, yeah?" Runt asked.

"More than swamped. Half of the docks are in full lockdown, and the other half are grounded by the storm. And everything between here and there is crawling with rioters looking for off-worlders to take out."

"Is the Rust grounded?" Runt asked.

"No, but it's locked down. The rioters tried to board some of the grounded ships, so the port had to lock everything down and fire up some of the PDC cannons."

"So... we're stuck." Runt said.

"Worse than stuck. They're going to break through sooner or later." Juan said, leaning back. "It's only a matter of time. I've got a bullet saved for myself when that time comes."

Quix saw Runt squirm a little.

"There's got to be a way out."

"For you, maybe." Juan said. "The air vents were designed to be too small for people to fit through, and those are the only other holes in this bunker besides the main door. You might be able to squeeze through with your squishy skeleton and all."

"No, I'm not leaving without everybody else."

Juan shrugged. "We could open the door and make a run for it. But that mob outside isn't