Aran paced frantically around the cargo hold. The ship began to decelerate as we approached the C-Sec docking bay. The landing gear un folding vibrated the hull around us. The anxiety was getting more intense now. Aran was pulling at his hair and breathing heavily. Lyra looked simply defeated, like there was no escape. My mind was flashing every possible outcome, trying to find a solution. I knelt by Lyra's side, eyes darting left to right, thinking. There had to be something we could do. Anything.

The ship ripped through the dock's forcefield and stopped forward motion. The ship touched down with a controlled thud. The ship's VI began to flash up 'DESTINATION REACHED' in green letters on a screen by the stairwells. Footsteps outside drew nearer, before scattering around the ship. Only one set of footsteps persisted until it was outside the loading ramp. A forceful rapping began on the closed ramp, not from a fist but from the butt of a pistol. Aran and I exchanged frightened glances in the silence. The rapping started again, this time much louder; more aggressive. A voice followed,

"Yo, Aran. Let's get this Hallex movin'"

It was Jeet. Aran looked at me, about to reply. We had a short argument with our eyes before he finally spoke up,

"Hey Jeet, just gettin' the barrels ready. We'll be two seconds"

Aran unfolded the shotgun and pointed at the ramp. Sweat was shining on his forehead, his pupils wide. He mopped his brow with the back of his arm and swallowed dryly. I pulled myself to my feet, keeping my gaze fixed on the ramp. I remembered Lyra, slumped at my heel, and quickly knelt down to untie her. Aran loudly whispered, 'ISAAC!', giving me a fierce look, indicating I should stop. His eyes looked wild and unstable, so I heeded his warning. I stood up straight again, giving Lyra one last sympathetic glance before looking back at my brother. His eyes stayed fixed on the ramp. He suddenly shut his eyes and took a deep breath, folding the shotgun back onto his waist.

I stared in disbelief as he headed for the door release. After a defeated press of the button, the loading ramp began to open. Jeet was revealed to us agonisingly slowly, standing with his hands behind his back, with a broad smile on his face. Aran and I cautiously eyed him as he slowly stepped onto the ship, his smile unbreaking as he returned both of our gazes. He walked straight to Lyra, still unmoving and knelt down next to her. He lifted her chin to look upon her face. His smile became much more sinister now. Lyra was completely unresponsive to the man she had such hatred for. He dropped her chin and stood upright. He turned gracefully to Aran,

"Thank you", Jeet said, calmly.

Jeet walked back down the loading ramp, with a cheerful gait. he signalled with his hands to the right and left of the ship. After a moment of harmonius clicking, half a dozen thugs wandered onto the ship. Aran and I took a cautious step back, edging closer together. Aran placed his hand on the shotgun, but they ignored us. They began unfastening the barrels and rolling them off the ramp. Aran and I gave each other a perplexed look, before my brother stepped forward to one of the thugs,

"We wanna speak to Jeet", my brother stated, with a rare quiver in his voice.

The man he asked stopped what he was doing and glared at Aran.

"Jeet!", Aran called out down the loading ramp. Aran tried to pursue him down the ramp but the thug grabbed his collar and threw him back onto the ship. The barrels were nearly unloaded, so idle thugs stood guard at the bottom of the ramp. The last barrel was attached to Lyra. She was propped against it, still dazed as two men approached her. They worked on unattaching her from the barrel as Aran and I were still frozen with the threat of six armed men with unknown orders. Once Lyra was detactched, she was cast onto the floor as the last barrel was rolled out. The man who remained spoke into a communicator on his omni-tool,

"Package is secured", he stated gruffly. He paused as a response was given, looking down at his wrist. "Roger that", he replied, before looking back up at the three of us. he whistled to the men behind him, who in seconds had us surrounded. They fixed their guns on Aran and I, with Lyra still in no shape to retaliate. The oldest, more grizzled thug stepped forward and barked,

"Move!"

Aran proceeded toward the ramp after a moments hesitation. I bent down to pick up Lyra which prompted one of the younger thugs to kick me with a gigantic boot, and pull me towards the ramp. As I was dragged off, I looked back at Lyra with frantic concern as she lay there. The thug released me, causing me to stagger. He nudged me with the end of his rifle and gestured to a door at the end of the hanger. Four of the thugs followed my brother and I, fixing their concentration upon us.

As we reached the end of the hangar, the door opened. Jeet emerged with exactly the same smile on his face. He moved out of the way of the door courteously, watching us as we passed. Inside the room was a wide table, with two chairs facing one on the other side. The room was brightly lit with apple-white walls. Shelves covered one wall with assorted boxes arranged haphazardly. Two thugs followed us in, followed by Jeet. He gestured to the two chairs at the table. Aran and I reluctantly seated ourselves. Jeet took the chair opposite, with his hands rested on the table.

"You're about to make a lot of money, fellas", Jeet said, still smiling. I eyed the thugs by the door before speaking,

"What's with the welcome, Jeet?"

"Just a precaution", he explained. "I know how persusive that woman can be, I didn't know whether she spun you one of her stories".

Jeet leant back in his chair, still staring at my brother and I. His smile had dropped now, his lips now sullen, "That woman will say anything, if it means savin' her skin".

I looked at Aran, who did not return my glance. his eyes stayed fixed on Jeet.

"So, what happens now?", Aran queried.

"What happens now? You guys need to sit tight. While we're movin' this Hallex, we don't want to risk anything fuckin' this up", Jeet replied, apologetically.

"How long will that take?", I asked, suspiciously.

Jeet's eyes darted to me. He licked his lip before speaking,

"Oh. Not long at all".

"So, we can't leave?", Aran asked.

Jeet stood up from his chair, and checked his omni-tool.

"Afraid not, boys", he said, unattentively. "Believe me, we're all in this for some big, quick credits, but we all have to put in some time".

He walked around the back of our chairs, and snatched the shotgun from Aran's waist.

"Don't want any accidents, do we?" he said, before smiling maniacally. He strolled to the door, gesturing something to the guards, and left. I gave Aran a panicked look, who had his gaze fixed on the table. I scanned the room frantically for a solution, but none became apparent. The guards were giving us both fierce stares, squeezing their guns tightly. It seemed as though we weren't here in the interests of hospitality.

"So, do we have to stay in this room?", I asked, after half an hour of silence. I was met with two sets of cold, dead eyes staring a loud answer.

"What about the asari we were with? What's going to happen to her?"

I found the same unyielding silence again. I was about to ask a third question, when I felt a small but persistent nudge on my leg. I turned subtly to look beneath the table. I found my brother's hands tapping the bottom of the table, before pointing either side of it. His face was unchanging as he continued to give me strange signals. I looked back to the guards, who were still watching us closely, although seemed oblivious to the secret messages my brother provided. I looked back down to see three fingers raised. They quickly changed to two, and I still had no idea what it was for. One finger followed, before a blur of chaos unfolded.

I was shoved off my chair to the side, hitting the floor hard. in the confusion, I noticed the table fly towards the two guards, slamming them into the wall. Their guns dropped to the floor with a clatter, and their heads were pinned by the table. Their faces were turning a blood-shiny red, as they gasped for breath. My brother grunted and growled as he pressed harder and harder, gritting his teeth with savage eyes. I could ony watch as the two men's eyes bulged out their skull, and their faces become ever more congested with blood. The malice and hatred in their eyes now turned to that of base childish fear, the will to survive. They panicked and scratched at the table as the cartilage in their windpipes began to crack, the panic in their eyes glazing over, they were now uncaring. A capsule of their final moments.

Aran released the table, causing them to fall to the floor in a heap. I remained rooted to where I was, paralysed by fear of my brother; now amplified. He kicked one of the rifles to me before picking up the other. I stared blankly at the gun for a few seconds, before shakily grasping it. Aran approached me as I stared at him in complete fear. He grabbed my collar and hoisted me to my feet. he placed his powerful hand on my shoulder, and looked into my eyes.

"It's all for you, Isaac", he said, in a deep hum. "I hope you know that".

His gaze lingered on my quivering face for a few seconds before speaking again.

"Come on, we're leaving. You and me."

He headed to the door, slowly and softly, with his gun raised. I followed him cautiously, concentrating on his movements. Thinking about his actions.

'It's all for me'