Almost four days now, Jet Black thought to himself. He'd never been off the Bebop this long before. Faye probably left a mess in the forward lounge. The thought of dirty pantyhose hanging from his furniture made him cringe as he read a 1950s pulp novel. What a cool time it must have been back in those days on Earth, Jet thought to himself. Too bad life couldn't be that simple now.

            Spike groaned and rolled over, the first time Jet had seen him move. Jet leaned forward as his partner's eyes opened wider and focused on him.

            "Oh, you decided to finally wake up, huh?" Jet asked.

            "What the…"

            "Yeah," Jet interrupted, "You've been out almost four days."

            Spike's eyes weren't fooling him, he decided. It really was Jet, which could only mean one thing. "So I guess I'm not dead," Spike mumbled. "Either that or spending eternity with you is my personal hell."

            Jet laughed. "Spike, my boy, you gave us quite a scare, bud. Thought we'd really lost you this time."

            "Shit," spike moaned. He tried to sit up before the pain in his abdomen convinced him to stay still. "What is this place?" he asked, holding up the tubes and wires that were connected to his arm at one end and went into a machine monitoring his vital signs at the other.

            "Medical frigate," Jet replied. "Kind of a crooked outfit here, but it was the closest I could find where no one would find us."
            "Who are we supposed to be hiding from?"

            "Did all that sleep give you amnesia? The Red Dragons are after you," Jet explained, leaning forward in his chair. "You killed their leader, and now, everything's up for grabs. Word is, there's a power struggle going on, and you're tops on the hit list."

            It all came back to Spike in a rush as his friend continued. "The Dragons need a leader, what's left of them anyway. The captains and soldiers you didn't kill are gunning for you, since taking out the guy that killed Vicious is the best way to stake a claim on leadership of the syndicate."

            "Oh, shit,"

            "Uh-huh. It's never a dull moment with you around, bud. You're lucky I'm a nice guy."

            "Pull up!"

            Serj again yelled to the ship that was headed toward him. It wasn't moving, and it wasn't responding, either. But it was going extremely fast. Before Serj had time to call again, he instinctively pushed down on the controls to try to get out of its way. The craft shot overhead with only feet to spare. His reflexes almost hadn't been fast enough.

            "Who's after me now?" Serj thought to himself, slumping forward in his seat. He had thought this would be easier. Get the disk and take it to the Mohishau and get paid. After that, he figured he'd be able to hide out in the outer rim. Of course, his timing couldn't have been much worse. He knew word of the disc being stolen would get around quickly, so he planned to hide out somewhere close until the heat was off. With everyone out looking for him, the best thing to do was to stay still. However, how could he have known that everyone would already be out hunting for Spike Spiegel? Running from a pack of wolves was a lot easier when you at least had a head start.

            Serj didn't know who would be running the Red Dragons after Vicious' little plan failed, but he knew that killing him would be the first way to assert one's authority. "That," he thought to himself, "Is why I cannot get caught."

            As he relaxed in his seat, Serj kept his glance forward. "I think I've lost them for now," he thought as he stared straight ahead. Had he checked his radar, he would have seen that the same vehicle that had almost smashed into him had righted itself and was now on his tail.