Another day, gone.

Moxxie had been gone for over four days now, and they still weren't any closer than they had been before.

A couple of nights ago, they had gone out to search the cabins around first class, knowing that Monte was probably staying there. But there didn't appear to be any traces of him, either coming up on empty cabins or strangers that they didn't recognize. And when Blitzo had gone up and searched through the ship's records, there wasn't even a "Monte Heish" on the passenger list. The bastard had somehow wiped out any record of him being onboard, probably as some cowardly attempt to save his skin.

That also meant Monte himself was going to be even harder to find. And the longer that bastard was able to hide under the radar, the more danger Moxxie was in. Millie remembered reading something about how after forty-eight hours, the victim is declared dead and the operation turns into a recovery mission. And it had been nearly ninety-six hours since Moxxie's disappearance.

She didn't even want to think about what that meant.

All of yesterday had been spent in the midsection of the ship, although no clues turned up. Finding a small imp on such a huge vessel was like trying to find a needle in a haystack, except the needle is constantly moving and the haystack is the size of a skyscraper.

She didn't know how much longer she could hold onto hope. There wasn't even as much as a blood stain to indicate his presence, meaning that he was being hidden well. Millie would die before she gave up on Moxxie, but the once bright feeling of hope was growing dimmer and dimmer with each day, and with that her morale.

Now, they were up on deck, running on barely two hours' worth of sleep and still searching, even though they knew by this point that the chances of him turning up were slim. The sun was shining bright in the sky, sharply contrasting the black cloud of dread hanging over all of their heads. A cold breeze pushed salty sea air into her face, a feeling that she had become accustomed to over the last few days.

Millie pushed her hair out of her face, the wind blowing it into her eyes. She moved with slow steps, unevenly spaced and heavy. Going this long without properly resting was definitely getting to her, but she kept pushing on, through all the pain and discomfort. Three days without rest was fine with her, as long as it meant their goal would be accomplished, which felt like it was getting further and further away, like chasing a carrot on a stick.

"Mox?!" Blitzo called out, "Where the fuck are you? I can't afford to hire another damn assassin!"

She could feel her eyelids growing heavy, even through her strongest efforts to keep them open. The slow burn of extreme fatigue could only be fought off for so long. Her limbs were beginning to give out, and the beating of her heart was both speeding up and slowing down at the same time.

Octavia seemed to take notice of it, Millie catching her gaze right before she felt her legs give out beneath her.

Thud!

Muffled voices called out to her as she laid on the ground, barely able to hear through the deafening ringing that was coming from her ears. Her body was screaming for rest, and she was finally giving in, feeling like she was falling into an endless void.

"Millie?!" Blitzo shouted, "Millie? You okay?"

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Millie? Talk to me!"

"She's not looking so hot," she heard Octavia say, "I-I think she's just tired or something. It has to be."

"I'mnh notahahh tireered!" Millie mumbled, "I'ammma befgra finnenenen."

"Great, now she's having a stroke!" Blitzo hissed.

A pair of hands picked her up and carried her away, almost making it feel like she was flying.

No...I'm not falling asleep.

I need to keep looking.

I'll get going on it.

Just give me a minute…

Please…

"Ppuutt medneeee downnenne," Millie said, "Noowww!"

She felt a sudden gust of warm air, much more refreshing than the cold air out on deck. Soft and fragrant smells filled her nose, and a feeling of safety enveloped her, trying to lull her into falling asleep.

No!

I'm not doing it!

No matter how comfortable I am…

No...matter...how…

The voices around her began to fade out as she felt herself being forced into a slumber, fighting to the last second.

"No," Blitzo responded, "Ya need to get some fuckin' sleep."

"For the first time, I agree with you," Loona responded, "She looks fuckin' dead! We all need to rest or we're gonna all gonna end up like that."

"Alright, just lay her down here, my back really fuckin' hurts!"

And that was the last thing she remembered hearing before falling asleep, being sucked away into a world of darkness, her body no longer to fight off the urge to rest. It almost felt relieving to finally be able to close her eyes.

But at the same time, she felt guilty for not working.

However, she was out before she had any more time to resist.

. . .

When her eyes finally opened again, it looked like it was nearing the evening, the light pouring in through the window having dimmed ever-so-slightly. If she had to guess, it had to have been roughly four'o'clock, although she couldn't be sure.

As they had a thousand times before, her memories escaped her before creeping back, her mind defaulting to home, despite the fact that she was thousands of miles and three rings away from Imp City. Which was quite a shame, because as bad as it was, Imp City was probably the only damned place in this entire wasteland that she felt somewhat safe in.

Her head still felt like it was being pelted with rocks, but she felt a bit better than she had a few short hours ago. The fatigue hadn't completely vanished, and the joint soreness and weakness still persisted, but it was a step up from earlier.

It was truly amazing what just a few hours of sleep could do.

She coughed slightly at the odor of cigarette smoke, which was strange since she had smoked in the past and been completely fine. Maybe it was because they were rich-people cigarettes instead of the homemade garbage she had used, filled with more chemicals and toxins than she could count on two hands.

Once the crumbs had been wiped from her eyes, Millie looked around and finally remembered where she was, the stink of smoke finally making the gears in her head turn. White, fluorescent lights burned her eyes as she turned her head, the bright light filling her vision with faint black dots after she had turned away.

"Well, look who's finally up!" Blitzo laughed, "Again."

He picked up a cigar and lit it off, puffing on the smoke as the irritating smell wafted into Millie's face, a rude awakening to her burned-out mind.

"These cigs are the shit!" he continued, "You gotta try one!"

Millie tried to fight the twisting in her stomach, "Nah, I'm alright…"

The faint sound of soft snoring faded in behind her, and she glanced behind her to find Loona and Octavia passed out on two other lounge chairs, the passersbys not paying them any mind as they mingled around the smoking room. Even Blitzo himself seemed like he had just woken up, dark bags under his ash-coated eyes.

"They conked out right after you," Blitzo pointed, "We were too damn tired to go back downstairs."

"How long was I out?" Millie, "Feels like I fuckin' died."

"What makes ya think I know? I've got better shit to do than ogle at a clock."

"Fair enough."

Millie plopped herself down on the couch once again, rubbing her head with her hand and trying to clear her brain fog. Now, each time she woke up, recovering from sleep took longer and longer, although it was probably because she hadn't truly "rested" in nearly three days.

Blitzo slid her a glass of water from the nearby bar, Millie hesitant about taking it after what had happened with her food at dinner on the first night. Knowing that the man that had taken Moxxie and poisoned her was still lurking around the ship only gave her more of a reason to be cautious, not wanting to relive the agony of GHB poisoning.

And he noticed her scanning it, glancing back and forth before seemingly deeming the coast clear.

"Don't worry, it's fresh," he said, "That fucker didn't get to it, I made sure of it."

She was hesitant, but her throat was also burning and she didn't have much of a choice. And if worse came to worse, at least she knew that the medical ward had some drugs that could help her out, that was assuming she would be conscious for long enough to get down there.

"Thanks," Millie said, slurping down the water without a second thought, "Anythin' interestin' happen while I was out?"

"Nope, just got to watch the rich fucks play pool and smoke their guts out," Blitzo sighed, "For all the cash these bitches have, they sure don't seem to do a lot with it."

"They're rich assholes, why do we care?"

"Hey, I'll have you know that our business relies on one of those 'rich assholes!' He's the one that paid for half of this damned trip, and I'd watch your mouth because we really can't afford to make any more enemies right now!"

She was taken aback by his suddenly defensive tone. Blitzo would get snappy before, sometimes to the point of screaming fits, but she hadn't seen him get so worked up over this particular subject before. He wasn't one to stand up for the rich and powerful, even Stolas..

"Someone's gettin' defensive," Millie said, "Afraid of losing your owl-dick, eh?"

Blitzo stammered, "N-No! I just don't think we can afford to make anymore fuckin' enemies. You've already seen what that one fucker can do!"

Once again, he spoke clearly, but didn't seem to believe what he was saying. Not only that, but it brought back the horrible feeling of dread she had about the whole Moxxie situation. As much as she hated being idle, at least having her brain turned off for a couple hours allowed for a brief escape from the worry that was straining her.

"Fine," Millie sighed, "How much longer 'till we can get searchin' again?"

She then turned to her sleeping comrades, both of whom looked like they were in a coma. Then, she looked back at Blitzo, with whom they both exchanged a glance that said "Oh well."

"Let them rest for a couple goddamn minutes," Blitzo said, "Unless you want us to all fuckin' die before we can find him."

"Fine, fine!" she sighed, forcing herself to sit down, bouncing her leg anxiously as the seconds seemed to turn to hours.

Sitting still had never been Millie's strong suit. She wanted to be out killing the piece of shit that had done this, or at least doing something productive. Even though she was free to move whenever she wanted, she felt imprisoned, trapped by her own exhaustion and that of her group.

"You sure you don't want a smoke?" Blitzo held out a cigarette, "It might help you feel better."

She contemplated the offer, willing to take anything that might soothe her frayed nerves. Back in the day she had been quite the smoker, wolfing down almost apack a day sometimes, her clothes constantly reeking of smoke. It had been her escape from the world, able to hold off the symptoms of nicotine withdrawal and let her feel something resembling happiness.

Like drinking, she had sworn to get her act together after she had gotten a job and gotten married. Having something holding her down and getting her into a routine was motivation to get her life back in order. Plus, killing people gave her enough of a high, something to replace the brief comfort she found in smoking.

So, she was quite surprised when she found herself reaching for the cigarette and lighting it, taking in a heavy puff of smoke, just like the old days. She didn't consider herself one to give into temptation easily. Her brain was shouting both "yes!" and "no!" at the same time, fighting a war on two fronts.

The smoke irritated her lungs, Millie hacking like an old lady during the first few puffs as her lungs accustomed themselves to the toxic fumes. It brought back memories, the familiar numbness returning to her as she watched the smoke rise up into the air.

"Feeling better?" Blitzo asked.

Millie nodded weakly, "Not better, but not worse."

She didn't blame Blitzo for trying to get her into smoking again. After all, he had no idea about her past, and all of the turmoil and trauma that led to it. He was just trying to do what he believed was helpful, no idea of everything that had happened in her days before I.M.P.

She remembered how much of an accomplishment it was when she had managed three days clean, and then three days had turned into three weeks, and three weeks into three months, and so on. Last she checked, she was going on three years since she had overindulged in anything, and she couldn't help but feel the slightest bit defeated. If Moxxie had been here, he would probably be quoting some statistics about mortality in smokers or something, and now she yearned for his droning, even if it seemed to go on and on at times.

I'm a mess…

But the desperation she felt to feel any sort of relief, no matter how unhealthy it was or how much damage it would cause, overwhelmed her so much that she went along with it, now enveloped in apathy no matter how much she wanted to feel something.

"Thanks, Blitz," she coughed, "I needed this."

No I don't.

I didn't need this.

You're just giving in.

"Anytime Mills," Blitzo said, "I know whenever I'm stressed I like a good smoke, and ya looked like you needed one."

Millie was about to speak, when a door suddenly slammed open far down the hall, making her drop the cigarette in her hand.

Two officers barged in through the open doors, and Octavia and Loona abruptly awoke next to her, jolting upright faster than she had ever seen them move before.

"The fuck?" Loona asked, her hair ruffled.

The officers quickly moved in on her and Blitzo, making direct eye contact and then checking a paper in their hands. And from the looks of it, they weren't there simply to have a friendly chat.

All of them tensed up as the large figures came to a stop directly in front, the taller of the two reaching into a pocket and pulling out a handgun, while the second one pulled out a set of handcuffs.

"Is there a...B-Blitzo among you?" the taller officer asked, adjusting his hat.

Who the fuck were these guys?

And what the hell do they want to do with Blitzo?

"The 'O' is silent, jackass!" Blitzo hissed.

Moron, don't give yourself away.

"So it is you!" another officer responded, "We've been looking for you."

"What?" he asked.

"Sir, please cooperate. There is an accusation of theft against your name."

Her heart dropped, and from the concerned looks on Octavia's and Loona's face, they all were thinking the same thing.

Monte.

He's behind this.

There's no way…

"Theft?" Loona asked, "You guys are gonna have to give us more than that!'

"Yeah!" Blitzo shouted, "Fuckers!"

Then Blitzo did something very, very stupid.

He bent down and kneed one of the officers in the groin, which was promptly met with a punch to the face, while another officer pinned him to the ground. The whole thing happened in only a few seconds, and it was brutal, Millie's boss hitting the floor with a violent thud as his wrists were bound behind him.

"You wanna say that again, smartass!" the shorter officer barked, punching him in the face, "Huh? You wanna piece of me?"

"Stop it!" Loona shouted, "Stop it! You're hurting him!"

But the officers didn't stop, instead handcuffing him and continuing to pound him, despite their pleas to stop.

"He didn't steal anything!" Loona called out, "Let him go!"

"According to our report, he most certainly did!" The taller officer pulled up a piece of paper, "Monte Heish, robbed by a man named Blitzo who matches the description."

"He's been with us the whole damn time!"

"Shut up before we take you in too!"

Millie wanted to leap in and help, to jump in and kill these fuckers, but she was down a weapon. And even though she could probably take them out on her own, having weapons on them gave them a massive advantage.

But all of them stood back, doing anything to keep the situation from escalating.

"Put me down!" Blitzo ordered, "I have a right to a fuckin' trial!"

"We're in hell," the taller officer said, 'You wish you had rights!"

The two men dragged him down the hall, carrying him down a staircase as Millie followed them.

"Where the hell are you taking him?!" she asked.

"You don't need to fucking know!" the shorter officer shouted, "Your friend will be taken care of, alright?"

She noticed wads of bills in the men's pockets, only solidifying her suspicions of foreign involvement.

And the officers saw her staring, not very appreciative of the extra attention. The taller of the two ran up and socked her across the face.

If she had been more lucid and less tired, she probably would've been able to see it coming. But thanks to her lowered guard and slower responses, the man managed to take her by surprise, the blow hurting far more than she was expecting.

Recoiling and rubbing her face, she poised herself for attack, before the officers scurried off.

"That'll teach ya, bitch!" they shouted, "Don't fuck around with us."

Rage filled her, a deep seething replacing her usual breathing.

Those fuckers had just taken her boss away, and socked her in the face. And judging from the cash she saw in their pockets, Monte had bought them, the officers filled to the brim with cowardice. To sell yourself out like that was one of the lowest things she could think of, and she had seen a lot of shit in her time.

Loona and Octavia rushed over to her after seeing what had happened, pulling her out of the way and back into the main lounging area in the smoking room.

"What the fuck was that?!" Octavia asked, sounding far more worried and shrill than she normally did, "You never screw around when they have weapons like that. You could've gotten all of us killed!"

"Those fuckers were getting away with him!" she yelled back, "What the fuck else was I supposedto do?"

"I don't know, but not that!"

Millie watched as Blitzo vanished from view, disappearing as the officers dragged him down the stairs and into the belly of the ship, to some dark place that she knew nothing good would be waiting in.

And she was pissed .

Ya wanna keep pickin' off my friends?
Fine.

But don't come crying to me after I rip your throat out.

"What now?" Loona asked, "We don't even know where they're taking him!"

Octavia spoke up next.

"Maybe they're taking him to the brig," Octavia said, "They've got to have some place to keep criminals here."

"How can we be sure?" Millie asked.

"I don't know, but it's better than having no lead at all."

Everybody paused.

"You're right. I just wanna get Moxxie back.. That rich asshole is gonna pay!" Millie growled, "I'm gonna find him, take out my knife, and turn him into a fucking pincushion. Then imma sharpen my nails and claw his eyes out, and take my machete out on his-"

"Alright, we get it," Loona cut her off, "And you'd better save some of him for me. I haven't killed anything in months and I'm itching for some of that good blood."

"Just wait until dad finds him," Octavia said, "You haven't seen what that man can do to somebody."

"And you have?"

"Multiple times. It's gruesome."

"I like gruesome," Millie chimed in, "I'll be sure to save some for him."

"Speaking of Stolas…" Loona said, "We should probably get our asses moving, assuming we can even find this jail that may or may not exist."

"I second that!"

"I'm in," Octavia said, "C'mon, let's get going."

Blitzo shouted and bit in a desperate attempt to keep himself out of the hands of the officers that were currently manhandling him, using every last bit of strength that he had.

The officers brought him to what looked like a jail, hoisting him up by his shoulders and tossing him into a dark cell. An ugly yellow coated the walls of the room, and the musty odor of mildew filled the air, Blitzo not looking forward to having to spend time in there.

"I didn't do anything!" Blitzo screamed, "Put me down!"

"Shut up!" the taller officer shouted before locking the door to the cell with a rusty key, throwing it away and letting it clatter on the floor.

Both officers stepped aside and nodded to what appeared to be an empty wall, moving their mouths and speaking almost inaudibly.

"He's ready for you," the officers said, accepting a wad of bills that was tossed to them from an unseen hand.

Ready?

Ready for who?

And who the fuck is giving you money?

Not like anyone here has that much to spare-

Wait a minute…

Shit...

Blitzo's stomach dropped as he realized what was going on, backing up against the back wall of the cell as if it would provide any meaningful protection.

A gunshot rang out as the two officers suddenly dropped to the floor, a hand reaching into their pockets reclaiming the money that had been given to them.

Two figures stepped out of the darkness, both drawing weapons and moving with slow footsteps, devilish smiles painted on both of their faces. Blitzo recognized them instantly, and once he did, he knew he was going to be in for a wild ride.

"Hello," Stella smiled, holding a large knife, "Did you miss me?"

Monte stepped out from behind, "He's missing somebody, I'm sure…"

You.

You fuckers are the ones that did this!

Oh, I'm going to fuck you guys up so much.

"I give you guys credit," Monte said, "You searched long and hard for your friend."

"Fuck you," Blitzo hissed, "Fuck all of you. Where's Moxxie?"

"A fighter. I like that."

It took every last ounce of self control that he had to not rip his way out of the cell and claw at their faces, only held back by the threatening weapons in their hands. If it were one-on-one, that would be one thing, but going up against two armed attackers who were three times his size was another.

Stella stepped forward, "I'm sure your friends will be here for you shortly."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Blitzo grinned, thinking that he had caught them at a weak point.

"Oh, it is. For us." Stella drew her weapon, "And you're going to get to watch."

It took a second for the whole thing to register, but when it did, he was filled with more dread than he ever had before. And all he wanted to do was break out and warn them, the only people left in his life that had bothered to stick around. Losing everybody he gave a crap about to these two would be the end of his world, as much as he hated to admit it.

"No…" Blitzo said, losing every ounce of confidence in his voice, "No...No…"

"Oh yes," Stella said, "That fuckwit of a husband is going to pay for what he did, and so are you."

Blitzo wanted to fight back, or do something, a burning rage filling his body as his hands began to tremble. He clawed at the bars that held him inside, cursing them for imprisoning him and making him helpless against the atrocities that he knew were about to be committed.

"Don't worry," Monte said, "We'll let you out. Gotta do something with the corpse, after all."

The man waved a gun, "And now. We wait."