Disclaimer- I don't own any of the characters from cowboy bebop, but wouldn't it be fun if I did.

XXX means some time has passed

It all started with star fruit. The waxy green fruit that tasted kind of like a cross between a grape and an apple. The first bite left you frozen with indecision on whether to spit it out or not. Until you noticed in had all the lovely addictiveness of red eye. The star fruit season was the ONLY reason why Vicious had returned to Mars. He had fallen in love with them in his childhood, and ever since, the highlight of his year was the only two weeks in the spring when the fruit could be bought fresh.

It had once been a fruit that grew in subtropical regions of earth, but in this day and age it was only grown on Mars. Every year he pursued the fruit with a passion unmatched in any other aspect of his life.

He had contentedly bought all of the star fruit he could carry (which was quite a lot) and was returning to where he had left his ship when he ran into the hit team.

Time froze as Vicious felt the dread of recognition. His bid to take over the Red Dragon Syndicate 5 years ago had ended in failure thanks to Spike, who he assumed was dead. He had been rescued from death by an outlaw, the bounty hunter's less law-abiding counterparts. His failed attempt had left his rather distinct mug shot imprinted into the minds of every noteworthy crime organization on Mars. Rumor of his amazing escape had left them all with high priority orders to kill him.

Stumbling onto a hit team with both his arms occupied did not bode well for the rest of the day. They obviously recognized him; there was no reason to play dumb. He dropped his bags of fruit and drew his Katana in one smooth motion. He spared just a fraction of a second to lament the loss of his fruit before cutting the man closest to him in half. Then he ran.

XXXX

He stopped by a wall to catch his breath. Damn, didn't those guys ever give up? Night had fallen in the two hours since he had first run into the hit team, during which they hadpursued him doggedly. A detailed memory of the slums he had grown up in enabled him to give them the slip several times, but they weren't giving up. The area he was in looked to have been partially rebuilt, but he was confident it wouldn't have changed enough to throw in him in five years when the place had been stagnant for almost 50.

The sound of men coming toward him drove him from his resting place, and around the corner to the mouth of the alley. Unfortunately what should have been a rats net of bolt holes and turns had been bulldozed into a parking lot. eight guys already waiting in it and what sounded like four coming up behind him. The bastards had set a trap.

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this chapter has been edited since it's original posting