Jack hadn't expected Mo'Ona to even know of the Last Stop Staryard, the place was either a mythical legend to those that had either heard tales of the deadly repository or an off-limits deathtrap to those that knew the truth. However, he found himself pleasantly surprised when the little rat-lizard's eyes lit up with recognition on Lix's datapad. Stars danced around his pupils like fleas on narcotics, his tail wagging with such fervor that the hairless appendage blurred in the holoscreen.

Following the fiasco in the Vents, both Jack and Taran had thought it best that the duo return to the Stripped Bolt until things cooled off. Lix had eagerly made use of the couch in Jack's diminutive room, her maw full of Meelk, super wheat and vat grown meat, while using his holo computer to call the only person she knew that might know about the Last Stop Staryard. A master salvager, all-around shady character, and one who, maybe, didn't want her dead?

"The Last Stop? Yous know wheres the Last Stop is? Yes! Mo'Ona is your guy! Ohhhh, yous won't regret this, I tells ya!" Lix couldn't help but smile as the little Hux balled his little grubby hands into fists with excitement, bouncing in the chair he was standing on so he could be eye level with the communication panel in his ship. It was a bit of dump in the background, little piles of this and that strewn about the tight corridors as his species were want to do, but the chaos had a sense of order to it that only a Hux could decipher. A stack of unused books was the only reason he could be eye level with the communication console…

"Well, unless you're gonna try and cash in on my unofficial bounty again." Lix grinned, her tongue licking the side of her chops. Mo'Ona had the decency to look at least a little abashed, his claws scratching the back of his neck, fleas scattering to the floor in search of safe harbor.

"Naaah, that's been pulled. A little birdy told me a few of those posters be betting on yous now. It's goods ta be… ya knows… good at what ya do." His nervous scratching turned into full on fur rending clawing, flecks of dirt and grime falling to his paws as he groaned in relief. Lix's smile faltered, a questioning glance at Jack offering no explanation. Perhaps he was just a dirty guy?

"Anyway," Jack interjected, the left side of his face covered with a thick gauze pad. "Shit's not a cake walk. We'll make it as smooth as we can but the area is council patrolled. Kill on sight, no warnings given, no arrests, no fines, a decent amount of the salvage out there are dumb hopefuls just like us."

"Yeah, so the stories go. Half dead ships an' half dead souls. I hears it be haunted." Mo'Ona snickered, his scratchy voice grating on the mechanic's ears. "I's guessin' we needs a pinger?" Jack only nodded at the inquiry as he rubbed his chin. Getting one would be a feat in and of itself. Illegal tech such as pinger satellites were highly regulated and most often used by mining companies in search of specific deep ore deposits in an asteroid that scanners couldn't touch. Minerals such as platinum, cobalt, and palladium were the usual targets of said pingers.

In space, the best way to vanish was to hide your heat and electrical radiation, usually with shielding and sinks. Pingers, despite their small size of about a cargo crate, gave off deceptively similar signals to that of a ship with middling stealth tech. Normally a passing security vessel wouldn't even register, but the kind of hardware roaming about the Last Stop Staryard? A pinger was damn near a requirement to even approach, something to get council eyes looking elsewhere, if even for a moment.

Not that using such deception would guarantee them access to the mysterious yard, far from it. It would only mask their approach, their weaving crawl into the heart. Once there, the debris and dying drives of all manner of ships would act as a curtain from any scans that may pass over them. Massive walls of alloy and metal obscuring the electronic eyes of their pursuers and sequestering them in a tomb where time stood still. Following that would be the real danger, actual radiation. Many of the ships in the Last Stop were capital, or even bigger, bearing engines and drives that seeped deadly radiation like tiny dying stars. Too long exposed without proper gear would see them all just another group of corpses drifting amongst the wreckage.

"Yup, we'll need a pinger," Jack's sigh was a long and tired one. "An' the only place I know we can get one is back down in the Vents." Word had reached him of the Rippers begrudging acceptance of his use of chemical ordinance down below, the Keelhaulers daily foray into the markets having screeched to a raging halt in fear of the new guard coming to clean house. On Jack's end, he was surprised his fellows on the outer ring hadn't questioned his brief firefight themselves, but the fact that he hadn't pursued the upstart gangsters further must have been enough to clue in that he was there on personal affairs. Self-defense was a daily occurrence in the Vents after all, and most would chalk up his interactions with the new gang as an instance of wrong place, wrong time.

Then again, what concern was it of theirs what Mad Jack did in the Vents? As long as Roarks flowed properly on the outer rings, the Vents were left well enough alone. Such rules were all well and good but… he was going back down, in search of highly suspect technology, that would simply scream to those that knew him where he was going. It was a bad mix, one prone to volitation. He would have to prune some of the thorns off before they pricked his side if this venture was going to go smoothly.

"Lix, lovely scaly lady." Jack reached over to force the raptor's head close to his, smooching her on the side of the muzzle. His reward was a content warble, Mo'Ona looking everywhere but the holoscreen. "Keep talkin' shop, I've gotta few calls to make."

"Alright, go be brooding and mysterious, white meat."

"Oh, I'm gonna. I'm gonna brood so hard." With that, Jack waved her off with a parting smile that faded the moment he turned his back, his metallic hand fishing in his pocket for an external comms unit. It was the very same one he'd demanded Lix bite, and she'd refused, the last time they'd graced his shop. It had been more than a little time since he'd talked to the crew who had banded together to push out the old blood and entrenched money. Most wanted nothing to do with him after his acquisition of the Stripped Bolt, and he felt much the same in turn. Deeds had been done, bridges had been burned, feeling hurt and backs stabbed.

It was best to let bleeding beasts lie, after all, but now old rules were starting to rear their heads; respect, trust, protocol, things he couldn't just ignore and go about his business as he pleased much like how he was want to do. No, there were expectations now. Jack was the old guard, the very same entity he had once taken fire and steel to, only his business was profit oriented instead of power. Make no mistake, the mechanic was under no illusions that the two went hand in hand. In order to ensure that the profits of the outer ring flowed properly they needed to walk a fine line between strong arming as much Roarks as possible from those simply passing through and cultivating a sense a loyalty from Koorka's long term citizenry. It required one of two things, turning the workforce into a mob of sorts focused on enforcement with a modicum of respect, or being a symbol of the community yourself, as Jack had chosen. The latter meant you needed a bit of grit to back up your bark however, meaning the infamous mechanic needed to stay fit and upkeep his reputation.

A reputation that kept his old crew at arm's length.

Saaf had been one of them…

In addition was Cordal, the outer ring's best provider of raw material, be it nickel, copper, steel, what have you, Cordal was your one stop shop for any and all tradesmen. Jack himself still used the frog like amphibian whenever he needed metal for fabrication work, only the transactions were often wordless and faceless. Back during the big push, Cordal had been their supplier and logistics officer, rounds didn't fly without supply after all, and the jittery frog man always seemed to find what they needed in the strangest of places.

Next had been Liliana, a fellow Human and the outer ring's beloved doctor. Be it a laceration, crush, fracture, tear, bleed, amputation, even an abdominal evisceration or a dreaded tummy ache… Liliana would be there to call you a fool and fix you up. Jack had lost count of the number of times she'd stitched him back together or provided him a batch of aerosol pain killers for his cybernetics. It was also no secret the good doctor was as good with a rifle as she was eloquent with her speech. It was her that convinced Jack that he needed to step back and simply focus on his shop and his trade.

And who could forget good ol' Marty? When it came to keeping a movement fed, no one could do it like Marty. The master of noodles and mountain of muscle had also been a whirlwind in the streets, rampaging through the old hat's rank and file like a hurricane. Hand in hand with Jack, he had racked up a higher body count than a natural disaster, and been the sole reason they'd even been able to push into the outer rings themselves. That he'd settled for a simple ramen stand had been a boon.

Last, but certainly not least, had been Tik'Tik, a wiry, jumpy little avian beast that stood no taller than Jack's hip. A Vector, if he was to be believed, but the mechanic had never seen another quite like Tik'tik before or since. He had been the movement's communications officer and liaison to the inner rings, keeping the peace and ensuring the violence never reached the richer sectors of the station and, therefore, keeping the authority figures off everyone's backs. Quick of mouth, or beak, and sharp of wit, the snappy little bird had taken great offense to the manner in which Jack had obtained the Stripped Bolt and vanished into the inner ring to work traffic control and hadn't spoken a word to anyone since. It had hurt for a time, they'd all fought hand in hand, feather, and claw, after all. But Jack found himself more angry than offended as time went on.

Only one would answer his call, that being Liliana. Several deep breaths and false starts accentuated the tumultuous state that Jack's relationships had become before he simply switched to speed dial, slapping the comms unit to his ear with a hiss as his metallic finger stabbed at his sensitive flesh. For a moment, he thought the woman might not pick up… when she did, he almost wished she hadn't. An ear rending scream was the first thing Jack heard, the man pulling his comms away with a grimace as Liliana's voice was only barely audible through the din of her… patient.

"Jack. Need more meds?"

"Is… this a bad time, Lily?"

"Appendix burst. No Roarks for anesthetic. Thought I'd let him drink booze to dull the pain, the idiot, he'd bleed like a sieve."

"Riiiight." Jack shook his head as the sound of tearing flesh reached his ears. "Anyway, got a message to relay to the rest of the old crew, if you don't mind."

"What did you do? Or about to do. Stay still, you didn't pay for reconstructive."

"About to do. I need shit down in the Vents and some new gang is going to start shit so…" Jack trailed off, several moments of pained moaning, crying, and screaming filling the digital space between them.

"Ah, the Keelhauler group? I've been getting complaints about them from my trainee clinics. They're bad for business. Look I'll run interference Jack, but you've a history of collateral damage. Keep it contained."

"Yes ma'am." The man saluted to the air, a crooked grin on his face.

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"That means lose the chem warfare. You think I don't know there's a cleaning op because of you?"

"Aw, come on." Any further protest was silenced by the whir of some drill, or a saw perhaps, and the neat slice of cutting meat. Whoever Liliana's patient was, he had gone silent.

"Shut up Jack. I know you've other methods, quit playing games and do it right. Control, remember our therapy sessions? You want to be labeled Mad Jack again? You killed Saaf without even consulting us. He had it coming but he was part of the crew. I know he had the Gerthtrude, but still…"

"They never stopped calling me Mad Jack."

"Because you never gave them a reason to. I'll talk to the others, what business are you running that is going to put you up against the Keels?" Jack pondered whether or not to lie. How much should he involve his old crew? The more others knew, the more information got out, the greater risk of operational security breaches. This was, however, Liliana…

"I need a pinger… you know I'm running with a 'Roid Racer, right? I wanna outfit her ship with Sev-… I wanna hit the Last Stop." Liliana sucked in a breath, her teeth chattering.

"Gods damn it Jack… I'll… why are you going back there?"

"Best ship parts. And I'm sure you know stuff's drying up with the corpos crackin' down on some smuggling operation or such." More than a little time passed in silence, the only sound being that of a wet surgery.

"I don't approve, but I can't stop you. Just… keep your head in there Jackie. Look, I'll tell everyone else you're pushing the Keelhaulers out for business purposes, making amends with the Vents, which it will."

"Oh… Shit, yeah it will make 'em like me a bit, won't it."

"Yes… ugh, how are you a business owner?" Another round of sliced flesh and the whir of surgical tools filled Jack's ear as Liliana continued her work, grumbling under her breath about the futility of men's stubborn streaks, how Jack was going to get himself killed or worse, and most likely end up as a target to get pushed out himself. The man, at least back in the day, had always teetered on a knife's edge. On one side was a capable, useful, and streetwise mechanic. The other… a bloodthirsty, violent, and loose cannon of a man that didn't just damage potential business, but filled body bags. A great deal of progress on the Human's mental state had been made since the old crew disbanded had been made, but drifting motes of the old Jack still lingered.

Or drifting embers more like, smoldering remains of Mad Jack that a select few remembered and the rest collectively endeavored to forget. Liliana refused to let slip from her mind the monster they'd willingly let loose on Koorka when it had been convenient. It wouldn't be responsible, or fair to Jack, to let history fade.

"Just reign it in a smidge, okay Jackie?"

"Sure sure…" There was more Jack wished to say, much more. Let's get the gang back together. Play darts, shoot pool, have a drink and listen to some tunes. Let's enjoy the peace, or what passes for peace on Koorka Station, that we worked so hard for. Business is good, the populace pockets a relative amount of the money they make which in turn gets spent where we want it to be spent, and bodies don't pile up in the gutter. We did good, we won, let's act like it.

But… he didn't. There really wasn't anything to say after all, nothing that wouldn't just be just wasted air.

Koorka won.

Jack… Jack had gotten the Stripped Bolt as a consolation prize.

The silence following the call dropping felt… final. There really wasn't any going back to this old crew. With a sigh, and the heavy acceptance that his old friends… weren't… the mechanic began to unbuckle the effective nerve and caustic grenades from his bandolier. He'd have to find a different way to get an edge in combat beyond his cybernetics.

An epiphany chased away the melancholy of Liliana's call, Jack rushing to his workbench to rummage through several oversized drawers and chests before removing his arm mounted oxyacetylene torch and accompanying tank. It was a smaller one than he was used to using, one that nestled nicely at the small of his back on his belt, but it would do. Metal clanged on metal as the small magnetic hardpoint surface of his left forearm grabbed hold of the specially made tool, one he'd used so very often during work that it felt almost like a second skin to wear the device.

On the lower settings, the normally precise and cutting jets of heat would turn into gouts of searing flame. Not quite a flamethrower, but close enough for the Human to pretend…

Liliana might complain but only after he returned with the pinger. Either way, her approval or lack thereof was future Jack's problem and that guy was an asshole. He never listened to present Jack's advice and just did whatever off-the-cuff nonsense that came to mind in the moment. That being said, those moments made for good memories down the line for future-future Jack, who tended to be a wise old dodder, but he was better off than future Jack.

Present Jack returned to Lix with a heavy heart, his conversation with Liliana leaving him feeling just a tad bit more lonely in the vast empty galaxy than he did before. His downcast eyes fell on Lix, the raptor still deep in her conversation with the overly excited Mo'Ona.

Perhaps… Not so lonely…

Still, it seemed all the old connections he had tried to make were going out of their way to avoid him and for what? Because he'd been a little violent in the past? It didn't make sense, not to Jack at least. Didn't everyone have at least a little blood on their hands in this day and age? Sure, he probably had a bit of a fresher coat on his… but did that really matter? What was one extra, two, three, four lives more than the next? Then again… Lix herself had taken her very first life today.

He could see the aftermath even now in the way her tail coiled just a bit tighter. In the way the claws of her feet curled as if she was on edge. Tension trembled nearly imperceptibly in the Kux'lar's thin shoulders, and her eyes looked a bit wetter than usual. There was a fine tight rope Lix was balancing on; in the center was a restless state where she ignored that niggling voice in the back of her skull. To one side was panic, disbelief, and terror, while the other held a dangerous sort of dissociative nonchalance where her brain shut out all care of the situation in order to protect her from the pain of caring.

Jack knew where she'd fall, and it was important that she did fall.

As if without a care, the Human joined his reptilian captain on her call, Mo'Ona jabbering away about all the things they might find.

"Skrunkles, breathe," Jack chuckled, pulling Lix into his lap with a squawk as he joined her on the too small couch. "You think you can make your way to Koorka so we can talk shop?"

"Skrunkles? Skrunkles…" Mo'Ona scratched at his fur, flicking away fleas and dirt as he rolled the word around in his mouth, seemingly approving. "Neeeh, yeah! I likes it! Skrunkles will meets yous there! Gots ta fly!" A flurry of fur and a naked tail preluded the Hux flinging himself from the comms panel before the feed went dark, Lix giggling into Jack's embrace as the duo melted into the man's couch.

"Ya doin' okay, scaly lady? After earlier I mean." The mirth died from Lix's giggles as she squirmed her way deeper into the man's arms, a trill tumbling from her maw as her tail wrapped around his legs in a possessive bind that forced them together. A surprised grunt left the man as the deceptively strong appendage trapped him. There was no escaping for him now, nowhere for his sweet, sweet mammal heat to go except into Lix herself.

Where it belonged, of course.

"Still kinda shaken up. Never had to shoot a guy before."

"Hopefully you'll leave the rest of the shootin' to me." Jack pulled the raptor closer, rolling to stuff her between the back of the couch and his own body. It was right where she wanted to be, her digitigrade legs twining with his own as best they were able. Little love nips trailed up and down Jack's neck, a trill accompanying each one like a siren call.

"Nope."

"Great."

"Yup. What, did ya think I'd be all teary eyed, oohhh, I killed a guy? He was gonna shoot my Human." She nipped him harder.

"Your Human?"

"Mine."

"So, what did Skrunkles say?" Jack adjusted, manhandling the lizard into a more comfortable hold.

"Skrunkles?" Lix opened her eyes, looking up at the bottom of the man's jaw.

"Yeah, Mo'Ona, the skrunkly little Hux."

"Hm. He is pretty skrunkly. He's still piddling about the Racer's Heart doing daily salvage runs. Should have seen his face when I told him you know the Last Stop's location."

"Oh yeah?" Jack nuzzled down on the Kux'lar, receiving a purr in return. "I had a feeling the grubby little bastard would know about it."

"Know about it? Salvagers like him touch themselves to dreams about the Last Stop apparently."

"Now that's an image I want burned out of my skull." A disgusted grimace flit across Jack's face as Lix's giggles returned, her tongue flickering out to lick at the gauze pad that still covered his injured cheek.

"Speaking of burning, what's with the torch?" Metallic tak-tak-taks rang in Jack's ears as she tapped the oxyacetylene torch attached to his arm. The low profile device was just barely able to avoid poking her scales, which would have put a serious damper on cuddle time.

"Ah, I got chewed out."

"What? By who? They'll get nipped." Fangs snapped at the air, which was currently occupied by Jack's neck.

"Ow, you fucker! By Liliana-"

"Who is Liliana?"

"Down girl, she's a friend." Jack chuckled at the heat in the Kux'lar's voice, rubbing the angry flesh where he'd been bitten. "An old friend, one of the crew that helped me push out the old, bad business."

"You mean like Saaf?"

"Bad business like Saaf but no. Saaf was actually part of the old crew too." Lix adjusted, wriggling until her serpentine body nestled nicely against the Human's for optimal warmth theft. Her eyes sparkled with interest, a fish latched on the end of a sharp hook ready to be reeled in. Jack hadn't just kept his time at Koorka close to his chest, the man had tossed it in a crate and locked the lid. There was no way she wasn't going to pounce on this chance with both paws, and killing claws, forward.

"Tell me about them." It wasn't a request.

"Ai'n't much to tell really. There's Liliana, the doc, she's a Human like me. She was sorta the glue of the crew-"

"Crew glue."

"And kept us all in line, objective focused. Used to serve as a medic on some planetary defense force." Jack squeezed until the lizard wheezed for her interruption. "Then there was Saaf, 'nough said about that bastard. If we needed gear touched up or moved about the station, he got it done. Could make what we needed too." Lix whistled through her fangs, thinking.

"How'd he end up in charge of a docking station?"

"Stole it, the gooey fuck. Paid a slicer about the sum of two Gerthtrudes to hack the deed into his name. My baby was already stored there and after we all had our heated separation, he decided to gouge me takin' her back."

"Why did he keep the fat girl under lock and key?" Purple hazed between the spaces of Lix's face scales as the Human's heat permeated throughout her body, her blood warming and tail-tip wiggling.

"Didn't approve of how I got the Stripped Bolt, which is a story for 'nother day. Now… who else… Ah, someone ya know." He teased, grinning at the raptor's curious churl. "Morty, can't run a revolution on empty stomachs. The big guy was also knockin' heads with me out on the front."

"I can see it."

"Next was Cordal, a Yorga. Think of 'em as frog men."

"What's a frog."

"I dunno, that's just what I've been told to call 'em. I ai'n't got no clue where he got it, but that little moist dude could get any kind of raw material and Saaf could make it into whatever we needed. Guns, ammo, gear, you name it, he could get the stuff to slap it together. Still on the outer ring, I order from him all the time." Lix smiled at that. At least some of Jack's old friends were still around. Maybe she could meet them?

"And then there's old Tik'Tik. He's a Vector, twitchy little bird fellas that live about forty years at the speed of improperly snorted illegal narcotics. He was our liaison between the outer and inner rings, keepin' all the fightin' out here so the big wigs over there stayed where they belonged. We promised better tourist flow, meanin' more Roarks, from cleaner clients. An' we delivered… just not like the little guy liked." Jack grimaced, frowning. Of all the old crew Tik'Tik was the most… innocent. From the first war room meeting at the Oil Change bar, which was nothing more than an unused storeroom now, he could tell the Vector wasn't made for blood and guts. Poor fellah… it was good he'd gotten away. "He works Koorka traffic control now."

"Swimming in Roarks you mean, dang. Maybe I should leave you for the bird."

"You'd come back when you see his," Jack snickered for a moment. "Pecker."

"Fuuuuuck off."

The duo delved into juvenile laughter for several moments, Lix laying her head comfortably in the crook of Jack's neck. The metallic tang of cybernetics was barely perceptible through the skin of his throat, hinting at an old wound that needed more than nature could provide.

"Did Liliana do that?" She asked, poking where the metal stench was strongest at his bobbing Adam's Apple.

"Glck! Oi, easy. But yeah, nearly took my head off, 'bout lost my throat to ricochet down in the Vents at the tail end of all that mess. She gave me a new one."

"Is Liliana still on Koorka?"

"Yup. Far side of the ring. Has a few clinics down in the Vents where she sends students of hers." Lix made to say how nice that was but was interrupted with a yawn instead, her maw opening wide in Jack's face to grace the man with a view of far too many teeth and a gullet that was the bane of Meelk. The mechanic released his hold on her shoulders just long enough to poke her tongue with a metal finger, snatching it away as her mouth snapped shut.

"Glack! Eugh! Why?"

"You expose the tongue; it gets a pokin'."

"Do it with something else than your finger, weirdo!"

"Oh, yes ma'am!"

"Shuuuut uuup!"

With that, the lazy lizard returned her head to the crook of the Human's neck and settled in for a nap, whether he wanted to or not. Chuckles rose from the trapped Human as he begrudgingly joined her, wiggling deeper into the worn cushions of his couch as the reptile in his arms drifted off into dreams. There was much work to be done, and she'd need all the rest she could get. Not to mention, he'd have to see just how useful this Mo'Ona really was when the little Hux arrived.

If he was anything like his fellows in the Vents, he'd be invaluable. The little rat-lizards were some of the best scavengers in the galaxy, and as long as you could get past their smell, decent all-around folk. Though their love for the Roark would most likely supersede whatever affection they had for you, as long as you lined a pocket or two in their little vests with some funds, they'd be loyal.

Or as loyal as rat-lizards could be, at any rate.

That being said, Jack wasn't going to just up and forget that this Mo'Ona had taken up an under the table contract to end Lix before she'd even made it to her first race. That was atypical Hux behavior. Most avoided conflict like a plague, sticking to the shadows of society and finding success through stealth and guile. If Skrunkles was anything like the other Hux Jack used to know, he was about to be a tired little bastard.

Unlike the Human, and now Lix who was a growing racing celebrity, Mo'Ona, even though he was a racer himself, could blend in with the Hux population of the Vents easily enough. A change of clothes, a little ruffling of the fur, and viola, you have a new Hux. Now, how the other Hux would react to him was another story all together, but they generally left well enough alone. In the end, it didn't really matter.

What did, was that pinger. Without it, the plan was dead in the water. Getting to the Last Stop Staryard needed a pinger, no if's and's or buts about it.

With Lix out cold, or out warm, in his arms, he had no reason to hide the dread from his face. There was no doubt in his mind that the gear they'd find there wouldn't just give them a fighting edge in the races, it could damn well rocket the Kux'lar into the history books… he just… had to go back…

Jack had to go back to the Last Stop Staryard.

Back to the Eros II System.

"Ambition culled, the stars dimmed, ice crusted home again…"