A Dame to Kill For.

[Harley Quinn]

Nem’ro sat sunken in a massive, velvet felt plush bag chair. The bulk of his tremendous weight made him look like he was atop a huge cupcake. A pipe sat snuggled in the corner of his slimy mouth while smoke billowed from the other side forming dark clouds above. His reptilian eye glazed over and shifted focus to his three subordinates standing before him. The life of a crime lord had taken Nem’ros right eye, but the spoils received from his villainy was worth the price he paid.

The more experienced of the bunch Red Eye had a appeared of frustrated and annoyed as he stood with his hands together out in front of him. He stood shorter than the others with metal plating protecting his entire body. A living science experiment, Red Eye has pushed his body past any human level of expectations doing the impossible, he became a living machine. This man knew the price of playing the game of thieves, which is why the hut favored him over the others. Perhaps, the fact that they were both missing eyes was another key to making Red Eye in charge of certain missions. “You asked to see us, sir.” The cyborg vocalized in a semi-robotic tone.


Most days Nem’ros tin man soldier had only good things to report back, but today was not one of those days. In fact, the hut was silently enraged over the results his posse had on a recent raid.  “Didn’t I ask you guys to get rid of the Credit Club last week?” The hut snorted, his accent thick and deep with alien-like undertones.


“Yes, sir” stated Red Eye, stiffly. The half man, half machine moved his body uncomfortably, never leaving Nem’ros piercing gaze. Usually, a task like this had little importance to the great hut but this job was personal. It had come to crime lord’s knowledge that this gang, in particular, was extorting Nem’ros special spice trade all while reaping the benefits from it.


“Then why is it that another one of our spice transports were ambushed? As recent as this morning!” The hut went on while his anger rose from within him. This once pest of a small town gang meant nothing to the kingpin but now these scum were trying to make a name for themselves.


“RJ had the leader Memphis in his sites but lost him, sir.” The cyborg admitted and followed with a dry cough. If Nem’ro hated anything it was those who did not take any responsibility for their actions. He knew that Red Eye knew better than that.


The longer this gang threatened the king pins operation the harder it will be to get rid of. Nim'ro also caught wind that his group was days away from opening their own call girl house to rival his own night club. The crime lord let his rage get the better of him, pulling out his custom blaster, Nim’ro sent the punk RJ through the wall in a blink of an eye.


Rattataki, the other gentleman with them let out a surprised wail. Throwing his hands in the air to cover his head and jumping away from the blast. The shock left the tall man spitting out a slew of curses followed by a furious rant. Red Eye never moved a muscle, even through all the commotion, his expression stayed robotic like the rest of his body.


“I would hate to have all that expensive hardware keeping you together be put to better use making bullets. Get it done.” The hut hissed.


After the grim show, Red Eye, followed by Rattataki, heading to the club to escape the wrath of the boss. If Red Eye knew anything, it was him and his partner needed to catch a lap dance while having a drink before they head out. As they arrived at the counter, Rattataki had already started with displaying his emotions on the subject.


“The fucking nerve of that fat piece of shit” Pulling out a cigarette and lighting it before he continued, “RJ was a solid dude. Memphis just got lucky.” The wail tailored thug finished with several puffs of his tobacco, spice spiff.


Red Eye was not the type to dabble in spice, quite frankly he stayed away from the stuff and was less likely to ever smoke on the job. Perhaps through the continuous slew of mechanical enhancements removed any need to enjoy such pleasures. All he knew was that there was a job to do and if he did not do it soon there would be consequences. “It does not matter, the only thing that does is finding some more people for the job.” He replied as he turned away for a quick scan of the bar.


Clearly frustrated, Rattataki huffed before responding with “We are not going to have much luck with that, none of the usual mercenaries are on board with this one.” His drink arrived and the mogul quickly drank the shot before the tender had the chance to walk away. She was scantily dressed in a leather bikini top and shorts with fishnet stockings topped with bright red lips.


“We need to find new people then, someone who is not in Memphis’s pocket”  Red Eye argued, followed by a threatening glare at his subordinate. “Go around the club and see what you can find before the show starts” he commanded before leaving the bar for a lap dance with his favorite dancer.