[M] Gun Runing II [Complete]

[Luci]

Luci smokes another cigarette in the garage as Chirpa the Ewok sits in his living room, yelling on his phone. Luci smokes too many cigarettes these days, the multi-colored fumes she exhales clouding the garage and dissipating slowly. She smokes too much, she paints too much, she does anything she can that will keep her busy. She paces the garage, growing slowly more stir-crazy. Luci is also acutely aware of the stress she is putting on Chirpa and his family, and her guilt tends to keep her from voicing any complaints. Chirpa and his family are taking a huge risk in sheltering Luci, both from the authorities and the Orc Mafia. One of the only breaks from the boredom of Luci's recent routine are the occasional briefings from members of the underworld regarding the latest criminal activity. Luci hears the front door open and stubs out her cigarette, hurrying to the living room.

Moss the elf walks in, alone for once. He has his warpaint on, three thin lines of his own blood underneath his eyes in a Native-American style. It used to be just the two, but now Moss is the president of the Westside Knife Ear Warriors, and so he earned his  third stripe. He leans his longbow against the wall and sits on the couch with a sigh. Chirpa and Moss start to talk as Luci brews coffee.

"They had inside information," Moss says in his oddly deep voice. "I heard Gulg was in the area, that sick fuck, but I didn't realize what it meant until Hopper went missing on a scouting run. Gulg must have worked him over good, they knew everything. We didn't even see the stuff, they shot our contacts and took off. And you know, those weren't even my contacts. The Hufflepunks are going to be pissed, that's their main chem supplier."

Chirpa nods in understanding as Luci brings over three cups of coffee.

"Klowdy would have known," Moss says in a miserable voice. "He would have taken every scout and runner off the street as soon as he heard Gulg was in town. Fuck," he adds, as Luci rubs his arm comfortingly.

"Maybe he would have," says the Ewok in his scratchy, high-pitched voice. "Klowdy was a very intelligent man. But we cannot know, as Klowdy has never faced adversity such as this. He has never been so out-manned, nor so outgunned. But then again, I think that Klowdy would be doing everything he could to even those odds."

Chirpa stares at Moss meaningfully. Moss stares back defiantly for a moment.

"I'm not the problem," Moss says earnestly. "I want the westside to unite against the orcs, but nobody wants to poke their heads out because the orcs are going to blow them clean off their shoulders, and I can't argue against that. I can't ask anyone to stand up and say 'fuck the orcs' if it's mean their neighborhood gets burned down or shot up. Instead they'll just hide in their holes, and one day the orcs will roll through their neighborhood and it'll be over."

Chirpa sips his coffee. "Have you thought about what you're going to say tomorrow?" the Ewok asks. Moss laughs.

"Yeah, join or die."

***

Luci presses her face against the tinted window of the black sedan. Outside, the citizens of Tier-5 go about their day, unaware that throughout their city are black sedans with tinted windows containing killers and criminals of all stripes on their way to a war council. Luci looks in the backseat. Moss is also staring out the window, his lips moving; he is practicing. She looks at the driver, a young but capable elf known as Passion Flower, as he parks the sedan behind a run-down abandoned movie theater. One of the guns Luci stole is holstered at his hip. Two cars are already in the parking lot when they arrive. Moss and Passion Flower exit, and Luci follows.

The three of them walk together, Moss in the lead, Luci and Passion Flower on either side. Their elven war paint burns brightly on their faces.

Chirpa walks up to greet them, flanked by two Ewoks. They could not arrive at the war council in the same car; it was strictly against gang politics. Moss bends down on one knee to embrace Chirpa, then rises.

"Is Korax here yet?" Moss asks, looking over his shoulder.

Chirpa nods. "Yes, he wants to talk to you about the south-west."

Moss groans and pushes open the doors to the abandoned theater, followed by Luci and Passion.

The theater is dank and decaying, lit by flickering battery-powered lights. Moss leads them past the abandoned concession stand and into a theater marked 4. Inside, a swath of seats has been cleared away, creating a ring of chairs all facing each other. A trio of familiar Klingons in vaguely Native-American garb are already lounging in the circle. The one in the center, a hulking Klingon with angry eyes, rises and embraces Moss.

"I am sorry for your loss," says the Klingon that Luci knows as Koloth as the pair break. "Klowdy was a good elf, and a strong leader."

Moss nods in thanks as the theater doors open and Chirpa and his Ewoks enter.

"They'll be here soon," Chirpa assures the group.

Chirpa, Moss, and Koloth, start to walk around the theater together, discussing high-level gang politics and laughing while their lieutenants do nothing to ease the awkward silence. Luci sizes up the other members of the Westside Coalition.

The Westside Coalition was once the strongest gang in the westside, containing over a hundred members from eight different gangs. They are down to just three gangs with thirty members. Moss now leads the Westside Knife Ear Warriors, which boasts fifteen active gang members, including Luci. The Mighty Westside Klingons have only twelve (mostly Klingon) gang members, but are feared across Teir-5 for their ruthlessness and combat prowess. Chirpa leads what remains of the Westside Ewoks, which now contains only himself and his two brothers as lieutenants .

Luci lights a cigarette and offers one to the Ewok lieutenant next to her. He accepts it gratefully, as does his brother. They smoke together in silence.

The doors of the theater are kicked open as the tough young leader of the Hufflepunks arrives, her two mohawked lieutenants glaring behind her. The trio are dressed in a mix of Hogwarts school attire and modern street-punk fashion.

The red-headed leader cranes her neck around, and spots the leaders of the Westside Coalition in a corner.

"Oi Moss!" she calls. "Yeah you, fuckboy! Mind telling me what the FUCK happened to my chem supplier?

***

[Luci]

Representatives from seven gangs and the Rebel faction sit in a circle in an abandoned movie theater.

On the left side of the room, the Westside Coalition sits together.

Moss the elf and his lieutenants, Luci and Passionflower, representing the Westside Knife Ear Warriors.

Chirpa the Ewok and his brothers, representing what remains of the Westside Ewoks.

The hulking Klingon Koloth and his lieutenants, representing the Mighty Westside Klingons.

In the center of the ring of chairs, the obnoxious leader of the Hufflepunks has the floor, her face piercings clinking as she talks.

"So King Ladybug" she says, gesturing towards Moss "Can't even keep MY people alive, let alone his own. No disrespect," she adds, locking eyes with Moss, who looks hostile. "But Klowdy died on a mission with you and Lieutenant Perky-Tits. Yeah we got our guns," she says, acknowledging the glowing blue pistol on her hip "nobody is saying that you didn't accomplish something, but I think the orcs MIGHT have noticed. They've been hitting the streets hard as fuck, but I'm sure you've realized. Found Hopper yet?" she asks scathingly. The assembled gang leaders murmur.

Moss's silence speaks volumes.

"Didn't fucking think so," she continues. "Meanwhile, our chem supplier is dead, my first lieutenant is dead, and orcs have got every corner from here to the library locked down tight. Tell em what happened, Shadow-Kill."

Shadow-Kill stands, a blond young boy no older than ten, dressed in an outlandish mix of JCPenney and Hollywood ninja-garb. On his hip is an oversized katana. Shadow-Kill is the leader of the Death Blades, a gang of ragamuffin orphans with an interest in anime, who found that by stealing OM they could better act out their heroic playtime. His lieutenants, a boy and a girl even younger than him, have expressions of barely contained violence. Shadow-Kill clears his throat and speaks in his adolescent voice.

"Face-Puncher and Johnny R. were practicing ninja stuff on the playground by Phaser Street and Photon Avenue. That's been our playground for years," he adds, his eyes finding the floor. "So Face-Puncher, he sees a car pull up that he doesn't know. Face-Puncher you know, he has this thing," Shadow-Kill pauses. "He HAD this thing, about stranger-danger. He knew that strangers were dangerous, but he was really brave, and he wanted to protect people, so he would always want to see what strangers were up too. So Face-Puncher, he walks up to the car, and he goes 'are you bad guys, or good guys? Because we're good guys'" Shadow-Kill raises his head and stares each of the gang leaders in the eye in turn. "So this orc, he rolls down the car window, and blows a big hole in Face-Puncher's chest and drives off. He was six years old."

The whole assembly is quiet for a moment, even the normally loud Hufflepunk representative. The representative from the Rebel faction, a Polywhirl with a Glock on his hip, clears his throat and stands.

"If I recall," the Polywhirl says in an upper-class English accent, his mouth swirling hypnotically "our faction recently approached the Death Blades in regards to a shipment of bullet-proof vests."

Shadow-Kill glares. "Yeah, we just had to pick it up in Teir-6, no problem," he spits sarcastically. The Pokemon shrugs.

"That has always been our arrangement in the past," Polwhirl contends.

"No, Shadow-Kill makes a good point," says the Hufflepunk leader. "The orcs have control of IT-64 and IT-63 these days. The only way to get from Teir-6 to Teir-5 is through IT-65."

The collected gangsters murmur darkly; IT-65, the largest highway from Teir-6 to Tier-5, is one of the main arteries for contraband material in Coruscant. While thousands of OM get trafficked through that highway every day, thousands are also lost at the rigorous security checkpoints, making smuggling via that route a very dicey proposition.

"It's not just the IT-6s either," says a curvy purple Twi'lek as she steps forward. Her name is Na'hesti, a club-owner and a drug-dealer on Teir-4. "The orcs have been making serious headway into Teir-4, shooting up the streets and taking my dealers out of business. They control most of downtown Teir-4, including a big chunk of IT-45. I can't get my chems into Teir-5 without those tusk-fuckers getting the drop on me, even though I'm pretty sure I paid protection," she adds with a pointed stare at a muscular, tattooed Hutt sitting across the room.

The Hutt does not stand, but dismisses Na'hesti concerns with a smirk. Luci recognizes Zogo by reputation; the representative from the Hutt mafia is a feared killer and the son of a major Hutt family patriarch. As Luci understands it, the Hutt Mafia has shown the war council great respect by sending such as esteemed representative. The issue is, Zogo the Hutt and his Wookie lieutenants know it as well. Zogo makes a gurgling sound in his throat that could be mistaken for laughter.

"That's protection from us," says the oddly-muscular Hutt. "Which you're late on, by the way."

The Twi'lek is outraged. "My shipments have been stolen twice this month! You can have your thirty percent, but it's not gonna be fucking much!"

One of the Wookies behind Zogo lets out a very deep growl.

The collected criminals start to bicker.

Moss turns to Luci, his deep green eyes boring into her gold ones.

Luci nods.

Moss stands up, raises a glowing blue gun, and fires off two blasts of crackling blue into Zodo's chest. He catches each of the Wookies with a shot before they can reach for their guns. The room is silent as Moss watches the Hutt's body slide to the floor.

He turns to face them. "It's fucking simple; Westside, join or die. Shadow-Kill, you need fucking vests? You buy em, we deliver em, free of charge. Hufflepunks, you need drugs? Meet fucking Na'hesti, she has drugs. Na'hesti, you need to get your drugs into Teir-5? Guess what; we got you, free of fucking charge, as long as you never pay those slimy slug fucks again. This is what we offer; Westside, join or die. Nobody has to accept our offer, but if we find out you're working with orcs, we're going to come after you with everything we got. Now fuck off, I have to think."

The gangsters file out silently. Luci is the last to leave. She lingers by the door, her bioluminescence a soft invasion on the darkness. Moss sits with his head in his hands, surrounded by smoking corpses.

[Luci]

***

Luci grins at Passion Flower as the Deathblades show them around their hood, a ten-block section of suburban Coruscant. Passion Flower looks uncomfortable.

Princess Hellstab, a seven-year-old samurai princess, skips through the Phaser Street park, her flaming katana dragging on the ground behind her, leaving a trail of scorched grass. She talks quickly and animatedly as they go, pointing out landmarks or people.

"That's Psycho-Blood's house, his mom makes the best Kool-Aid," says Princess Hellstab. "That's the jungle gym, it's where we duel. That's Death Assassin, he's so annoying, he's always pulling my hair, but then I'm the one who gets in trouble for chopping his finger off. Those two kids fighting over there are Justice-Man and Ninja-King."

The trio stop to watch Justice-Man and Ninja-King's mock duel. It is impressive. Fire and lightning clash with steel and flesh as the prepubescent warriors throw themselves relentlessly into the fight. They stop very suddenly and look towards the street. A black, unmarked sedan with tinted windows creeps by the park. The Deathblades stationed around the park watch silently as the car rolls out of sight, then resume their various activities.

Princess Hellstab breathes a sigh of relief. "The issue is, we can't get anywhere near them with those guns of theirs. The orc that shot Face-Puncher, this really ugly pig called Karg, he put little tubes on the end of his gang's guns so they can shoot further. We need those vests," she says as reaches into her jacket and pulls out a wad of cash. She tosses it to Luci casually. "Be careful with this, it's a lot of fucking allowance."

***

Luci sits quietly as Polywhirl drives through down Teir-6, smoking a cigar with his strange mouth. He takes her into a parking garage and drives the car in a slowly winding downward spiral into it's depths, stopping at a innocuous looking wall. He parks the car and gets out, Luci following his lead. She feels nervous, and wishes she had Moss or Passion Flower around to watch her back, but the small Rebel cell was very strict about security protocol. Polywhirl reaches down to a manhole cover and taps several times in short secession; a code.

A gnarled, clawed hand lifts the top of the manhole cover, two bloody red eyes peering through.

"Come," the voice croaks. "Bring the girl."

Polywhirl glances at Luci, who shrugs, and follows the Pokemon into the sewer.

***

The Rebel hideout is noisy, cramped, and multicultural. Hackers rub elbows with Jedi, a Ferangi argues with a Plutonian over a map of Teir-2, and the walls of the makeshift shooting range do little to dampen the noise of the shots.

"So," says the creature with the gnarled hand as he steps into the light. "I'm Ralph. You're the girl who walks through walls. Let me get a look at you, then."

The pale creature squints up at her, his back twisted at a cruel angle. His yellow eyes bulge out of their sockets as he takes her in, his oversized teeth poking through holes in his lips.

"You don't look away, you don't look like you want to throw up, this is good. Diplomacy is important to a gangster. You ARE a gangster, than?" Ralph asks in a wheezing voice. The Rebel cell seems to have gone oddly quiet.

Luci looks around. She closes her eyes for a moment, focusing, and two lines of prismatic war paint appear on her face.

"Westside Knife Ear Warriors, sir," Luci says calmly, staring at the creature. The cell continues about their business.

"A noble clan, I'm sure," says Ralph. "But you'll want to see the merchandise."

The monster limps over to a pile of blank white boxes by the shooting range.

"Pick one," Ralph says, giving a hacking cough. Luci picks one from the middle and opens the surprisingly light box. A child-sized vest is inside, made of some strange puffy vinyl-like substance.

"Made for gnomes," says Ralph. "Not much we can do with them, so we offered them to the Death Blades at a good price. Try it out," he says, indicating the shooting range.

Luci and Polywhirl step into the "gun range", a small white room with crude noise-dampening and a dirt hill behind mannequins and paper targets. Ralph and not a few members of the Rebel cell stand outside the plexiglass walls to watch. Polywhirl straps the vest onto a child-sized mannequin with a guilty look, and hands Luci a very strange gun that she has become intimately familiar with.

The simple looking device is, at it's core, simply two tubes jammed into a blue ball of crackling energy. One tube is held in the hand, the other tube is the barrel. When a button on the first tube is pressed, a ball of crackling blue hellfire is released, searing through flesh and bone.

Luci takes a moment, aims, and shoots the mannequin square it the chest, leaving a smoking hole in the vest, but not deep enough that she could see that white of the mannequin. She fires again, this time blasting the vest off the target. She lays the gun down on a table as she and Polywhirl inspect the target. The mannequin's flesh is only singed.

"We promised one shot with no damage," the Pokemon says in his bizarre English accent. "This vest can clearly take two. Do we have a deal?" he asks, holding out his hand.

He grins as Luci shakes it, the two of them exiting the shooting range as Luci slips a wad of cash discretely into his hand. She bends down to inspect the merchandise further.

"How are you planning on getting them in?" asks Ralph with interest. Luci grins and removes a vest from one of the boxes. She shakes her spray-can and a cloud of orange mist settles over the vest. When she is satisfied it is completely neon orange, she tucks it back into the box. She shakes her can again, and sprays a rainbow mist onto the white box. She blows on it to dry, and shows it Ralph. An icon of a lifeguard stands behind a logo that says "Coruscant Life Savers", with a black-and-white square underneath saying "Child Life Vest".

Ralph nods.

"Get out, I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon enough."

***

Polywhirl helps Luci load the trunk and backseat with the vests. Despite the Pokemon's protest, Luci paints his car white, and the pair leave to meet up with Passion Flower and change cars. The pair smoke together in silence for a moment, the Polywhirl chewing his cigar in his strange mouth, Luci flicking the ash of her cigarette every few seconds.

"So Ralph likes you," the Pokemon says after a while. Luci does not respond. "I like you," he says, getting a smile from Luci. He puts a cartoony hand on her leg, and she giggles warmly as she removes it. "That was some amazing shooting back there," Polywhirl continues, acting as if the exchange didn't happen. "Where did a good girl like you learn to learn to shoot like?"

Luci continues to smile, but says nothing.

The Pokemon snorts somehow. "Keep your secrets then, gangster," he says as they pull into the drop spot.

***

Luci sits in the front seat of a white cargo van as Polywhirl and Passion Flower load it up with vests. She has her set of glowing markers out and is working furiously on a last minute revision to Passion Flower's fake I.D. card, adding a watermark of the Emperor's face. She squints as she rounds the lines of his jowly face. After nearly twenty minutes she is satisfied with the forgery, and hops out of the car.

"Oh cool," says Passion Flower as he examines the I.D. "Melvin Pondscum. Uh, that's ok, I guess."

Luci ignores him and starts painting on the side of the van, producing the "Coruscant Life Savers" logo on either side of the van. The trio finish loading the van, and Polywhirl shakes the pair's hands.

"Truly, a pleasure doing business with you," he says as he gets back in his car. "I should hope to do it again sometime. Good luck."

***

Melvin Pondscum smiles nervously as a storm trooper stares at his I.D. intently alongside the elf's face. A single bead of sweat did not roll down his forehead. A river of sweat, however, did. The storm trooper does not hand the I.D. back.

"What are you hauling?" he asks through his helmet.

"Uh," stutters the elf convincingly.

"Uh?" asks the storm-trooper. Luci, concealed beneath boxes in the cargo hold, feels her blood run cold

"Uh?" he repeats loudly, as other storm troopers notice and start to crowd in. "Uh, how about you uh, get the uh, fuck uh-uh-up out of here Melvin?"

The storm trooper and his squadron burst out laughing as they mock Melvin, who keeps his gaze down and drives into Teir-5 with a sneer.

***

Later that night, in a Phaser Park, a drive-by shooting is in progress.

The Orc Mafia is done playing games; they want protection money from the Deathblades and they aren't going to wait any longer.

Two black sedans with tinted windows pull up to the park. Four rifle butts extend and start pumping balls of blue fire at any child they could see. The orcs think they got ten, at least. One of the shooters, a young albino orc named Ahg, lights a cigar with his smoking rifle tip. He takes a deep drag, closes his eyes, and bellows his war cry. When he opens them, Ahg sees a distinct lack of dead bodies littered around the park. He turns around in time to see a burning katana jammed through his drivers skull. His partner in the backseat is slumped over, a shuriken in his forehead. Ahg feels a steel chain wrap around his neck and pull him through the window of the car, then smashing him into the street. Ahg watches as the Deathblades dismember the orcs in the second car in shockingly violent ways.

His eyes follow the tip of Princess Hellstab's katana as it drags along the street, leaving a trail of sparks.

When she bends down to whisper in Ahg's ear, it is with a deathly sweetness.

"Where is Karg?"

***

[Luci]

***

"Oh shit, if it ain't Lieutenant Perky Tits!" cries the brassy young leader of the Hufflepunks as Luci phases through the wall of their hide-out. A bright sheen of sweat is visible on her forehead.

The Hufflepunks are a ragtag collection of Hogwarts alumni, formed from the remaining members of other Hogwarts gangs. The gang has an ugly reputation for unprovoked violence and hard drug abuse, and the abandoned apartment building in Teir-5 that functions as their clubhouse is known as a hot-spot for junkies and raucous parties.

Luci takes in the room, her eyes crawling over the dilapidated wallpaper and the shaking, sweating teenagers sprawled out on couches. Broken glass and drug paraphernalia litter the hardwood floors. The air reeks of butterbeer and cigarettes.

The red-headed leader of the gang is trembling as she shoves a backpack into Luci's hands.

"Hey," she says, her eyes betraying a hint of vulnerability. "Hey, get back quick, huh?"

***

Passion Flower glides silently through uptown Teir-4 in a dark blue Mercedes. Luci watches from the passenger seat as the strip clubs and brothels gradually fade away to be replaced with gated communities and expensive homes. She shares hits of ayahuasca with the elf to ease the tension.

Passion Flower pulls up to a black gate and presses a button, glaring into a camera. After a time, the gate buzzes, and opens. He guides the car into Na'hesti's driveway, a long circular road that leads up the house and back out towards the gate. He parks, leaving the car running, as Luci steps out, eyeing the large double doors nervously. They share a look of unease as she closes the car door behind her.

***

Luci sips a cocktail in Na'hesti's parlor and laughs at all the right points in her stories. The Twi'lek seems most at ease when entertaining, mixing cocktails and gabbing about the club-life, so Luci indulges her; for a while.

"I can see you're busy though," Ne'hesti says with a sigh. She reaches under her drink table and pulls out a backpack with six tightly taped bricks. She offers the bag to Luci, who grabs a brick at random and cuts a small slit in the side with an arrowhead. A strange purple powder slips out, which Luci tastes. Ne'hesti watches as Luci judges the taste, then nods. Luci leaves the drugs on the couch as she stands up and walks to the back of the room, staring down through the huge open windows to the car below. She produces a communicator from her pocket and sends a text. Seconds later she sees Passion Flower emerge from the blue Mercedes, backpack in hand, and walk through the double doors into Na'hesti's house.

"Another drink, beautiful?" the Twi'lek asks in her silky voice. Luci declines, getting more worried every second that Passion Flower does not arrive. The Twi'lek laughs. "It's already done girl, you might as well relax."

Luci flashes her a look of suspicion as Na'hesti smirks.

The doors to the parlor are thrown open. Passion Flower is carried in, an orc under each arm, his face bleeding onto Na'hesti's expensive rug. One of the orcs is holding a gun, the other is holding the backpack full of cash. Luci tenses, and Na'hesti pulls out a blue gun of crackling energy and points it at Luci.

Luci does not move, but keeps her eyes locked with the Twi'leks.

Na'hesti keeps her gun trained on Luci as she grabs the backpack from the orc. She holds the bag in her left hand as she sidles up to Luci, her high heels clacking, and raises her gun square in Luci's face.

Luci hears a brief scuffle, and a ball of blue fire hits Na'hesti, engulfing her right arm and part of her neck. Na'hesti screams and drops her gun. Luci sees the orcs wrestle the gun form Passion Flower and shoots a burning hole through his head. Luci locks eyes with Na'hesti, and grabs the bag of money.

Na'hesti screams in rage as she has lets go of the bag and grabs her gun, but it is too late; Luci has phased through the floor. Na'hesti curses and fires several shots into her front lawn as Luci sprints down the driveway and phases through a wall, money in hand.

***

Across the street from a strip club in Teir-4, three young women sit in a parked car, smoking weed and telling jokes. In the driver's seat is Luci, her eyes red and puffy. In the passenger seat, the tattoed red-head leader of the Hufflpunks, laughing her way through the early stages of chem withdrawal. In the back seat, in a booster seat, is Princess Hellstab, the most genuinely happy of the trio.

"You sure it's here, tonight?" asks the Hufflepunk anxiously, for the the thirteenth time.

"For the thirteenth time, yes. Ahg was very explicit," her highness contends.

Still, it is hours before Na'hesti pulls up in an innocuous looking minivan. The Twi'lek parks, and enters through the back of the strip club. Her long jacket conceals any burn marks.

"Fuck yeah!" says the Hufflepunk as she and Luci exit the car. They walk up to the minivan, look around, and then Luci phases through the back door.

They run back to the car with arms full of chem bricks, stopping only Luci could paint a big glowing 'WESTSIDE' on the club.

"Holy shit!" says the Hufflepunk. "What do we got, twenty bricks? Here, worth every fucking penny." she says as she shoves the backpack full of cash back into Luci's hands. The witch tosses a thick stack to the grinning princess in the back seat. "You fucking too, Your Highness! Uh, hello, Lieutenant, let's fucking dip!"

Luci does not move, but watches the van across the street.

"Come on!" the Hufflepunk urges nervously.

Luci does not move. The trio gets deathly still as they watch two figures emerge from the back of the strip club. One is the beautiful, curvy Twi'lek Na'hesti, her companion is a particularly ugly pig-faced orc. Luci turns to catch Princess Hellstab's eye.

"That's him," the princess confirms, her eyes narrowing as Karg lets out a deep drunken laugh.

The pair get inside the minivan and close the doors, and with a sound like a gunshot the vehicle is engulfed in flames.

The trio watch the flickering lights of their enemies corpses for a moment.

"Holy fuck," says the Hufflepunk, turning to Luci. "I didn't know you had it in you, Lieutenant.

Luci drives away calmly as the Hufflepunk leans her head out the window and screams.

"Westside, join or die, motherfuckers!"

***