Tarrik Zaitsev's Story

A lone figure stalked the shadows of Wing City's abandoned slums. His form shimmered in the dim light, shrouded in a distortion of light. Tarrik silently walked the dark alleyways, kept to the shadows, and made little more noise than a mouse. He halted, and the shadows melted from his body - revealing a chrome suit of body armor that covered him from head to toe.

Tarrik crouched beside an active electrical line and glanced over his shoulder - wary of unwanted eyes. When he knew no one was watching him, the operative unfastened a cylindrical canister from his belt. A logo of a white hand adorned with a red triangle was printed along its side. The container was sealed by a mechanical lock. After another glance behind his shoulder, Tarrik whipped out his knife and cut the insulation protecting the electrical wires. Sparks shot through the alley, but the operative paid them no heed. Finally, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a metallic key, and unlock the canister.

The container depressurized with a loud hiss. Immediately a pitch black goo dripped from the canister onto the ground. While paying careful attention to not get the goo on himself, Tarrik poured the goo over the electrical box and exposed wires.

He quickly resealed the canister and vanished.

A blood curdling screech resonated through the slums as the goo bubbled and sparked.

Warren Aulare was wandering aimlessly about when suddenly he smiled at the sky. For a moment he stood there and stared up into Terran Orbit. A satisfied nod and he turned on his heel with new direction. He thumbed at the die in his pocket as he made his way in to the city.

K'gara sniffs the air curiously and looks around observantly, her tail wagging a bit

It had been a while since she'd been to the Abandoned Slums. The exterior of The Grinning Ghoul wasn't much to talk about. She spit on the sidewalk and meandered inside.