Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars: The Force Unleashed

**Important Note** My next update is going to be delayed for a month. This is not something I want to do and it's not a decision I made lightly, however, I feel like a short hiatus is necessary in order to make the last stretch of this fic as good as it can be. This is mostly to ensure that it stays consistent and that I don't publish decisions only to reach the end and realise that they aren't going to work. I am going to continue to write and draft chapters through the hiatus, it's just that I won't be posting anything until I have a very clear vision of what I want to happen at the end. So please don't worry! It's not that I've lost inspiration or anything like that, it's simply that I've hit a point in the story where I need to know exactly what is going to happen to avoid confusion and frustration later down the line.

With this in mind the next update will be scheduled for: 2nd June, and should then continue on it's two-weekly schedule.

Thanks!

A huge thank you also goes out to readers/subscribers and reviewers. And, as always, many thanks to Liisiko for all her support.

CHAPTER 30 - Smog

Location: Nar Shaddaa

Galen drove the final race aggressively; his teeth gritted tightly as he surged forwards. The dry wind howling in his ears mirrored his mood.

Could he really be blamed for being protective of Juno? When he was who he was and when Vader's ominous warning echoed again and again in his mind. When she was so incredibly dear to him that thinking of life without her was utterly unbearable. Besides, if it hadn't been for Sia, then Juno wouldn't have even been at the event in the first place.

It was Sia, then, who riled him the most. After all, Juno was just being Juno. She was helping out by going above and beyond the call of duty just as she always did. But now she was picking up the pieces that Sia had dropped and if she got into trouble because of that idiot flight officer then—

—his heart leapt as the bike ahead of him hit the breaks sharply to avoid a huge, broken chunk of duracrete that had fallen from one of the operating cranes. The tremendous weight had cracked the ground beneath it and the swoop ahead hit the debris at some speed. The bike shook viciously from side to side, wrenching the rider's arms and throwing him up into the air.

Galen would likely have driven straight into the bike had he not had quicker reflexes, ducking as a piece of debris flew over his head and swerving clear.

The close call was enough of a cover to instigate his plan of action. His hand came down and, with a subtle brush of Force energy, knocked the power lines loose. The display set between the handlebars flared with warning; the indication light for the left engine shifting from green to red. The bike listed, forcing him to slow and the high-pitched 'chee-chee-chee' of the bike began to lower in tone until it was clear that, for him, the race was over. With the bike growing quieter by the moment he could hear the commentator updating the audience.

"—End of the road for the newcomer." And then he skipped on. "And out in front, the human male from the sunny world of Tatooine is—"

Galen didn't listen to the rest, feigning an attempt at starting up the broken engine before giving it up as a lost cause. It juddered angrily as he steered it towards the edge of the course and out onto the docks, away from the track to where the bikes were stationed between races. Most of the bikes were left standing solitary in their spaces; their riders off to see the result of the last race of the day or drowning their sorrows for failing to make it into the final.

A few moments later and the mechanic bustled over, looking slightly out of breath as he closed in on Galen.

"My swoop! What have you done to it?"

Galen gave it a rough tap with the toe of his boot. "Obviously wasn't as good as you thought it was."

"Stop it. Don't do that."

"Look, it's nothing. Just a loose connection." He knelt down by the bike and wavered slightly at the heat radiating from the repulsorlift drives. He lifted the connector up and turned it. The pin had been damaged but that looked to be the extent of it.

"That shouldn't have happened! Did you touch anything before you went out there?"

"I was barely even here."

The mechanic grumbled under his breath as he tried to start up the bike. Unfortunately, now that it had been powered down it adamantly refused to start up again. It gave a sickly, coughing sound but nothing more than that.

"Need to get it towed."

"It's looking like it…yeah."

"Hey, where are you going?"

Galen gave the man a somewhat bemused look. He hadn't really expected him to stay around, had he? "I've got somewhere to be."

Galen felt the edge of the saber hilts press against his ribs as he ducked beneath the curtained doorway and showed the finalist band clasped to his wrist. The alien checking the guests was backed up by four heavily armed men, though Galen wasn't sure that it would have been enough to put off some of the more brash Nar Shaddaa residents.

The Gran scrutinized the band on Galen's wrist before turning his three eyes down to the datapad in his large, stumpy hands. There was a brief pause and then, with little more than a grunt, Galen was waved on through.

The room beyond was not luxuriously decorated in any way – this was Nar Shaddaa, after all – but it was huge and the air did smell slightly cleaner when compared to the other event rooms. This one, of course, was not as tightly packed with sweaty, gamblers and party-goers. The racers were easy enough to pick out amongst the gathering of people since they were the only ones whose clothes were covered in grime from the track. There seemed a large number of women in the room, too, some in typical spacer gear but most dressed more formally. The sight rekindled the memory of Juno in her dress, though he hastily pushed that thought away. He needed a clear mind for this.

On a raised platform was the huge, hulking form of a Hutt; the thick, leathery skin gathering in great folds around his neck. The alien surveyed the party with a detached, uninterested expression, as if he attended such events on a daily basis. At his side, a thin, blue-skinned Twi'lek dropped morsels of food into his open mouth. Close by, other scantily clad Twi'lek women danced, their movements perfectly synchronized; their eyes distant.

Galen ducked his head and moved on.

Long tables set with food had yet to be touched, perhaps waiting for the hosts to arrive and address the racers and company beforehand. It surprised Galen that anyone there would have been that considerate.

"Master?" PROXY's voice came through the com-link and he accepted it but said nothing. The droid continued: "Targets are moving in from the entrance to your right, out onto the stage. Leys is still MIA. The schedule suggests that after the first half an hour they will retire to their quarters. I can provide you with the code to gain access. The room they have been appointed has a balcony and private landing pad that overlooks the city. I will bring the Rogue Shadow in cloaked to pick up our targets and transport them."

Sure enough, the doors slid open and the two men stalked onto the stage. They were certainly average looking, neither attractive nor ugly, with forgettable, uninteresting faces. Their clothes were decent quality, but nothing that particularly drew the eye. Even still, when the man accompanying them gestured for the music to fall flat, eyes turned expectantly towards them and the room quietened.

Galen shifted his stance and tipped his head up to look at them.

The speech that followed was not a particularly good one; Miller's flat voice making it hard to pay attention to the words coming out of his mouth. Looking around, he could tell that the rest of his audience were equally captivated, some of them yawning, others fidgeting. And when Miller's speech came to it's conclusion, Galen heard more than one stifled sigh of relief.

"We've seen some fine talent here on the track this day. Fine indeed! But none finer than one of the most talented racers ever to grace Nar Shaddaa with his presence." He held out his arm and the winner of the event stepped up to stand beside him.

Galen's eyes widened in recognition. The man was none other than their third target; Leys. And he had been racing? He supposed that he shouldn't have been surprised by this turn of events. The outcome of the race had been a set up, then. And now they were walking away with the winnings. Very clever, indeed. Somehow fitting, too, that their greed would lead to their downfall. He wondered if PROXY had spotted it, too, but the com-link remained silent and he didn't dare to communicate.

At least, now, they had their three targets in sight and all in one place. It looked like that plan was actually coming together.

With the speech over and the cheering dying out, attention turned to food and women and Galen tried to stay as inconspicuous as possible. Unfortunately for him, the sponsors appeared to be seeking out the riders specifically and eventually, Miller managed to catch his eye and was striding over to speak with him.

"McLeod, isn't it?"

Galen steeled himself to play the part of uneducated swoop racer and looked over his shoulder to glance at the man, feigning disinterest. "Yeah. What of it?"

If Miller was put out by his lackluster response he didn't let it show. "If I'm going to be honest, I didn't expect to see you here. You raced at Nar Shaddaa before?"

"No." He gave a shrug. "Could say I had beginners luck. Guess it ran out in the last race."

"Swoop let you down?"

"Yeah. It happens."

"You don't sound all that bothered about it."

"Hey, I made it out alive. I can always try again."

Miller rubbed at his chin in a manner that suggested he was not used to being clean shaven. "True, true. Perhaps sometime in the future you might consider a sponsorship?"

Galen's brows rose in mild surprise. "By you?"

"Perhaps. For a share in the winnings you'd have far superior equipment provided. The better the bike the more likely you are to still be around to spend the credits you win." He gave him a knowing look. "Think about it."

"Maybe I will."

Miller didn't smile, exactly, but his eyes gleamed with a sudden contentment. Most likely he thought he had snared his next money-maker. A shame then, that within the hour he'd be caged up and on his way to be interrogated by the Alliance.

Galen's hand went to one of the sabers attached to a harness beneath his jacket, almost as if checking it was still there. He'd be needing it soon enough.

The com-link on his wrist buzzed with life and hastily, he leaned into his palm to conceal the device as he listened.

"Starkiller? It's Juno. We've arrived back on the ship and are heading to the rendezvous. PROXY has you on screen. He tells me they're running a little over time so we'll hold back until you give the signal."

The relief at hearing she was safe and sound swept through him. He wanted to say something to her but she had called him 'Starkiller' and that meant Sia was within hearing distance. Galen sighed. He couldn't wait to get this mission finished so that they could drop their extra member and go back to how things had used to be.

Not responding, he looked 'disinterestedly' across to where Miller and Slate were conversing with the newly discovered Leys. The third man was still dressed in his racing gear, the tight curls of his hair flattened against his scalp. Galen supposed that he shouldn't have been taken aback by the realization of the set-up and wondered, briefly, what would have happened if he had won the final race and ruined their plans.

If he had been a normal man, he probably would have been lying in a gutter somewhere.

Then, after what felt like a long time, the three men took their leave, moving out of sight into a corridor that would take them to the room in which Galen would confront them. He wasn't nervous in the slightest. The worst they could do was to try to shoot him but blaster fire was nothing more than a trivial irritation.

He wondered whether this was all that awaited him now: winning battles against small-time foes who could never even dream of holding their own against him. It was a miserable thought for one who liked to be challenged and what use was all the training he had endured as a youth if he no longer had need of those skills?

Slowly, he got up from his seat and strode in a wide curve around towards the door. A small group spotted him and tried to catch his eye to talk but he point-blank ignored them and moved on. He couldn't afford to get caught up in conversation now. Around him, the sounds of the party had increased and with the sponsors gone, the party had turned into something one might expect to find on Nar Shaddaa. One poor Twi'lek was getting some unwanted attention from a very inebriated alien and her attempts at shoving him away were clearly not enough of a sign that she wasn't interested in him. Beyond that, the Hutt seemed to be dozing despite the noise, each intake of breath expanding his already huge size. Around him others were fully absorbed in their drinking; too distracted to notice Galen as he kept close to the wall and turned out of sight.

A moment later and PROXY made contact again. "I have you on visual, Master. The corridor is clear of any personnel."

"Thanks, PROXY." He was standing in front of the security panel now and couldn't help but think it odd that he wasn't just going to blast his way through. It felt like a long time since he had played the part of silent assassin, back in the early days of his 'borrowed' memories that were not as easy to conjure now. Leave no trace of his coming and going. Accomplishing his goal without bringing the whole building down around him.

He reached out with his senses to search the room beyond the security door and touched upon a few weak minds. They would be easy enough to turn aside if need be.

"Code?" He asked and punched in the numbers and letters as the holodroid relayed them.

The door parted with an indignant hiss and he stepped inside, feeling the swish of air as the door snicked closed behind him.

In a small room to the right he could hear the sounds of the catering staff hastening back and forth. Thankfully, none had enough time to spare him a glance and he left them alone.

After that Galen only had to proceed a short way before he reached the door to the sponsors' suite. He reached into his jacket to brush his fingers against the hilt of his saber and opened the door.

As far as entrances go, it was not his most spectacular. No lightning crackled, no panels warped beneath the strain of the Force, no sabers snapped to life. He simply stepped into the room and waited until every pair of hard, angry eyes was on him.

His fingers tightened around the hilt of his weapon and the three information brokers and their human guards leapt into action. The barrels of their blasters whipped up as he thumbed the activation stud on his weapon and swept it forwards. The hot blade cut easily through the material of his jacket where it had caught and then it spun, white-hot through the air, deflecting each blaster shot with expert precision. He had to be careful not to send their own fire back into their vitals. He hadn't come this far only to get careless now.

The appearance of a lightsaber, however, seemed to have shaken them up. There was a pause after the first barrage and then the fire returned, more sporadic than before. Some went wide, leaving burning pock-marks in the wall where they struck.

And then one of the information brokers was reaching under the table and Galen imagined the sudden blare of an alarm and the onrush of armed guards storming into the room. His free hand came up, bringing with it a blast of Force that propelled them all back into the wall with crushing strength.

The guards were slower to rise to their feet than the masters they were supposed to protect and Galen watched the fear and hesitation burrow deep into their facial features as he twisted the blue saber expertly around his hand. Then, he straightened and the weapon settled back into its familiar reverse-grip. A band of heat tingled against his forearm.

Miller barked an order. "Don't just stand there! Attack him!"

And to be fair to them, they did try and mount an attack. Some of them brandished their blasters again whilst most traded the long-range weapons for crude looking vibroswords. They charged him all at once, as if to use their numbers to disorientate. Galen humored them for only a moment or two, feigning a few attacks to test their reactions. They were as nervous as spooked Ronto and as clumsy as children with their weapons. So it was with no real effort that Galen got around their defenses, cutting them down one by one.

His first strike severed a limb clean in two. His second cut deep into a guard's hip and stuck there with an angry hiss and the horrible stink of seared flesh. Galen jerked the blade free and sent the man spinning into his comrades who pushed him aside without a care for his health. The third had his legs cut out from him as he tried to back out of harm's way. And, as Galen stepped forwards to parry the next vibroblade, he sank Kota's green saber into the dying man's throat. The screaming ended. Then Galen was moving forwards, drawing vicious lines of blue and green as he went and a wave of panic crossed over their faces as they realized how outmatched they were. One man dropped to his knees, gasping for breath as he reached for the weapon that had fallen from his limp fingers. In the chaos, the weapon was kicked out of reach and Galen – who was spinning out of another deadly attack, paused to work the blue saber down through collarbone and into his chest. Galen dislodged him with a boot against his torso and the body sank sideways onto the floor.

Across the room, Miller had fired his stun blaster but the charge meant for Galen hit an unfortunate guard who had managed to step between them. The man's body convulsed with pain and then he was slumping to the floor; out cold.

One of the bodyguards threw himself at Galen, attempting to take him by surprise, but he turned on a heel and brought up a palm, sending a blast of Force energy straight into him. The impact of it was like hitting a brick wall and the guard's body went flailing backwards, crashing into – and through – the huge window leading out onto a balcony where four airspeeders rested.

The air that rushed in from outside held the sharp tang of pollution and distantly he heard the familiar sound of the Rogue Shadow approaching through the busy skylanes, weaving around the tall spires of the dirty buildings, decorated in gaudy advertisements.

The blade spun in his hand as if it had gained a life of its own and he leapt towards the targets; using the Fore to enhance his motion.

Slate was in his path first and the man's eyes widened in horror as he realized the 'assassin' was about to complete one of his objectives. Galen brought the saber around as the blade went dead; the hilt connecting with the side of the man's skull. The impact sent Slate toppling to the floor and he went down so heavily and suddenly that for a moment Galen thought he might have miscalculated how much pressure to apply. Blood flowed from a wound hidden beneath his hair and puddled on the floor.

He whipped back to face Miller and Leys at the same time as he confirmed – with the Force – that Slate was still alive.

"What do you know," Miller sneered. "The rebels got themselves a new Jedi dog."

"At this point, it would be pointless to resist. I suggest you give yourselves up." Galen replied, trying to keep his emotions in check. Behind him he heard the sound of someone moving and turned to defend himself a second before he realized that it was only one of the guards regaining consciousness. Leys, attempting to take advantage of the distraction, took off across the room and, without thinking, Galen sent the threads of Force energy chasing after him. They snagged at the man's body and dragged him back with such vigor that he was slammed down into the floor; sliding across the smooth panels so that he almost ended up back where he had started.

And then Galen was shot in the side.

The impact of the stun blaster was intense; the electricity rushing through his limbs and sending his whole body into violent tremors. His vision began to recede and he willed his muscles to unlock; knowing that Miller was making his escape. A few seconds later and the incapacitating pain was gone, allowing him to move. His hand had clenched so tightly against the hilt of one lightsaber that the metal had cut into his palm.

Thankful that he was still on his feet, he Force-dashed across the room, linking through to give PROXY the signal. The sound of the Rogue Shadow was certainly more prominent now and within moments the cloaked transport ship dropped down between the buildings, through a gap so narrow that the tips of its wings were barely a meter away from the skyscrapers on either side.

The ship hovered for a moment and then the loading ramp dropped open.

Her heart thrummed with excitement as she expertly guided the Rogue Shadow, fully cloaked, down into the tight spaces between the sprawling buildings. The ship obeyed without a hesitation, reacting to her every move with such eager compliance that she could not help but smile.

PROXY was standing at her side, his hand grasped at the back of her chair as the ship pitched downwards to where the balcony waited just below them.

"Activating repulsorlifts." She called, knowing that Sia was readying herself to leave the ship. She opened the loading ramp and then, her job done, handed the controls back to PROXY. "I'm going to go and help. Are you okay here? Watch the cloaking device. Make sure it—"

"—You do not need to worry, Captain." PROXY assured.

She faltered and then, with a nod, grabbed her blaster and headed out to join Sia.

As she stepped down onto the balcony Sia and Galen were already in conversation, talking loudly to be heard over the roar of the ship's engines. Even still, their words were nonsense until she was about two steps away.

"—can't just let him go."

"If you think you can get him, do it."

"Everything alright?" She called out to them.

"I lost one of the targets." Galen replied, his expression thunderous. "I'm going after him."

"Where did he go?"

Galen indicated the airspeeders even as he made a move towards them. Juno caught his arm and turned back to Sia. Behind the shorter woman she noticed the still forms of…a dozen…two dozen bodies? The sight turned her stomach but she found it strangely difficult to drag her eyes away from them. They had all been alive until Galen had arrived.

"I…" She forced her concentration back to the task at hand. "Are you alright to handle things here?"

"With PROXY, sure. Not on my own. Plan changing again?"

Juno checked her chronometer. "You've got approximately twelve minutes before the cloaking device starts to overheat. Get PROXY down here to help you shift the targets onboard. We'll be back as soon as we can."

Juno left Sia contacting the droid through the com-link and then moved across to the speeder, her hand still on Galen's arm.

"What are you doing, Juno?" He questioned; his tone serious.

"I'm coming with you." And without any hesitation she clambered into the driver's seat (a move much more awkward in a dress) and started up the small vehicle. She didn't wait for him to argue with her, giving him a pointed look and the simplest of orders: "Get in. We haven't got time to argue about this."

He vaulted into the seat next to her and she pulled the airspeeder up, linking through to PROXY as she moved to join one of the lower level skylanes weaving through the city buildings. "PROXY. As soon as you and Sia have those two on board I want you to get the ship back to the docking bay. We'll meet you when we're done here."

"Of course, Captain."

"If there's any sign of trouble, then leave us here."

She cut off the link before the droid and risked a glance sideways to catch Galen's angry expression. "Don't give me that look." She continued carefully. "If you're going to locate him you can't concentrate on the driving as well. Just tell me where to go and I'll do it."

"You're too stubborn for your own good." He replied quietly.

"I'm too stubborn?" She arched a brow at him and then hit the accelerator.

Whether he liked it or not, he gave up his argument and settled back in the passenger seat, seeking a state of calm that would help him locate the runaway target. Juno could not help but throw short glances his way, always curious about his connection to the Force that was so strange her. She had been speeding along the lanes for perhaps half a minute when he jerked forwards in his seat and glanced to his left.

"Down there."

Her reaction was instantaneous, sending them swerving in front of incoming traffic and forcing a number of vehicles to pull aside sharply to avoid colliding mid-air.

"That…was close." She breathed.

"I knew you had a death wish." Galen half-jested, peering backwards to check out the damage – of which there was luckily very little.

"We're fine!" She reasoned. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

He shook his head, bemused, and turned his attention back to tracking their target. Juno tried to steady the pounding of her heart after the close call and forced herself to pay more attention. Contrary to 'popular belief' she really didn't want her life to end. After a moment, the lanes became more sparsely populated and they whizzed by turn after turn.

"Can you sense him?" She called out, brushing a few stray hairs away from her eyes.

His brow was furrowed with concentration, his eyes moving beneath their closed lids as he tried to 'see' where they needed to go. And then he was alert again, leaning over the side of the speeder to look with his eyes, rather than with the Force. "Down there." He motioned downwards and Juno dipped the nose of the speeder with a more gentle motion.

"How much lower?" She queried. "If we go any further we'll end up in the smog."

"He's using it to hide." Galen confirmed. "Lower."

Juno conceded and the air – already warm and thick with pollution – seemed to grow heavier still. Visibility plunged, only the brightest of lights enough to pierce through the haze. She was forced to slow so that she might see an obstacle before hitting it, becoming more and more reliant on Galen's senses to guide them.

She opened her mouth to speak but the words were lost in a gasping cough and then the air began to clear again; huge industrial fans cutting a wide funnel into the smog. The noise of the colossal fans masked their approach as they dropped down towards the target's location, which – Galen had assured her – had recently become static. And sure enough, the bright blue speeder that Miller had taken could be seen parked between two huge metal crates. The man himself was leaning over it, fumbling around for something he'd clearly misplaced.

"Don't go far." Galen called and he'd already thrown himself over the side of the speeder before Juno could make any response.

He hit the ground running and reached out with the Force to grab the communication device Miller had finally found in the speeder. The object tore from the information broker's fingers and snapped into Galen's waiting hand.

Miller visibly paled. "How…"

Galen's hand opened, dropping the device on the floor. Then he stepped forwards to crush it under the heel of his boot. The same hand came up to tug the scarf down away from his face, allowing him to throw the older man a cold smirk. "Sorry. You weren't planning on using that, were you?"

Miller's face transformed with rage but Galen could see the fear lurking there behind that emotion. He took a step forwards and felt a rise of triumph at Miller's immediate step back.

"You didn't think it would be so easy to escape, did you?"

"Actually." Miller snapped. "I did."

Galen advanced another step though he didn't reach for his lightsaber as his instincts told him to do. He wouldn't have need for it.

"It doesn't matter, anyway." Miller replied through a growl. "You rebel scum won't get anything out of me. All of this will have been a waste."

"One of you will talk." Galen replied. "It'll only be a matter of time." And just to strengthen his point, he allowed a flash of blue lightning to wreath around his forearm, dissipating the moment it leapt from the tips of his fingers.

The man's hand inched towards the stun blaster still strapped to his hip and Galen's arm came up to counter the response. The Force came with him, too, propelling the man backwards and crushing him against the wall. The back of Miller's head connected sharply with the building and his eyes rolled up as consciousness fled from him. Galen caught him as he tipped forwards and raised the com-link to call to Juno.

Juno was quick to appear at his signal; bringing the speeder down so close that he only had to push Miller into the passenger seat.

"Well…that was easy." Juno said as if she didn't dare believe it.

"Now we just need to get back in one piece."

"If that's a jibe at my driving, I suggest you take it back." She warned as she turned the speeder around.

He smiled at her as he leapt aboard, using the back of her seat to hold on as the vehicle gained altitude. The small two-seater speeder was not big enough for the three of them and as they rose up through the smog and rejoined the skylane, they were thrown some odd looks.

"So." Galen finally broke the silence, leaning forwards. "The dress?"

"Um…Sia's idea." He noted the color returning to her face and how she shifted awkwardly in her chair, looking embarrassed and strangely vulnerable. It was sort of…cute. "There wasn't any time to change before we reached the rendezvous." She explained. "It's so filthy, now. I doubt it'll ever get used again. Not that we get to attend many formal events, anyway."

He tried to word his next sentence carefully (compliments still being a rather new thing to him) only to be interrupted by Juno's com-link stuttering to life.

"Eclipse here."

"Hey, Juno. It's me. We've got the Rogue Shadow back at the docking bay."

"Okay, Sia. We should be there shortly. Everything okay your end?"

"Uh…not quite."

"What do you mean?"

"We tried everything we could, Juno. It's Slate." There was the briefest of pauses and then; "He's dead."

"What! How?"

"He'd suffered a bad head injury. I'm sorry, Juno. We lost him."

Juno seemed to brave herself for her response: "It's not your fault. You did your best. Two out of three will just have to be enough. There's nothing we can do about it now."

"It was me." Galen spoke once the link had been severed. His voice was bland. "I did it."

He saw her start to turn and then think better of it – the skylane turning sharply into a narrow opening between the buildings. "Galen. It was an accident." Her voice was stern. "And without us, the Alliance might not have got their hands on any of these men."

But that didn't make it any better. After all this work and time, they'd lost one of their targets. They had lost potentially vital information. And why? Because of a moment of foolish misjudgment. Kota would have been furious with him.

And when the questions came – as he knew they would – what exactly was he going to say? How would he explain himself? That he wasn't used to confronting weak prey? That he wasn't used to taking prisoners? And what would they think, then?

That he was a killer.

And they'd be right. That's exactly what he was.

To be continued...

Next update: 2nd June