Lix wasn't a stranger to violence per say, however her experience in the realm of death and injury was indirect. A flaming explosion after a collision or slamming her vessel into an asteroid, something born by accident or failure of skill at the flight stick; nothing so direct as murder or mugging or gang related activity. So when the time came for her to get dressed and await Jack in the garage as he piddled about in his room, she felt the carefully placed facade of confidence she'd displayed to him in her engine room begin to wane.

Thus… squats.

Up… down… up… down… up… and then… down.

"Gnah."

"Oh yeah?"

Lix turned, her eyes blinking in surprise as Jack flung a jacket over a molle rig holding several round explosives to his chest, his mean revolver stuffed into the front of his pants on full display. This jacket even had sleeves… Memories of frigid, sudden cold suddenly sprang to mind and a scared trill formed in the back of her throat as the Kux'lar's tail curled.

"Ngh, those better not be cryo grenades. I'm still cold in some places I think."

"Nah, I warmed ya up. These are concussion and gas." Jack tapped several different spheres, each one bearing their own striped of colored tape. "Made them myself."

"Gas?" Lix tilted her head, her scaly nose wiggling in intrigue as she stepped closer.

"Yup. A few nerve and corrosive but mostly nerve." And now she was stepping back.

"Great, you're covered in chemical weapons."

"You know it baby, Jack is prepared." The confident grin that spread across his face did nothing to assuage the rising worry in the raptor's gut, her claws worrying and clacking over one another. Where was this Human getting all of his gear? A gun was one thing, but cryo grenades? Corrosive and nerve gas? Where did he even source the ingredients for nerve gas? Those weren't exactly items one found on the local shelves. Curiosity wrestled with a growing dread in Lix's gut, a battle that demanded she start asking questions, but she simply couldn't muster the courage.

"Well, prepared Jack, lead the way. I'll follow and do what the monkey does." Lix fell in behind the Human, hopping onto the front room's counter with a growling trill as she took a moment to perch, her killing claw tapping upon its surface, before leaping down with a graceful jump. "How do we get down there anyway? Elevator I presume?"

"If you want to get mugged, sure." Jack made way for the Kux'lar to slip past him into the crowded thoroughfare as he engaged his shop's trusty security. "Nah, there's better ways to get inside. Just hope they aren't still mad at me…"

"They?" Lix tilted her head as she clung to the man's arm, half in an effort to avoid being swept away by the flowing river of bodies, and half to steal the mammal's warmth. "Mad?"

"Oh… you know… the place we gotta go through is full of Greers is all…" A sheepish smile crawled across his face, half hidden as he pulled his reptilian captain through the throngs of half blind, half aimless Koorka denizens. "What Saf was, remember?" Lix's eyes lit with sudden recognition at the name, remembering the strange goo creature that had been holding Jack's precious Gerthtrude hostage. If memory served, the Greer were a species of strange silicon-based colonies that grew protective substances around themselves. Jack had killed the uncooperative Saf by freezing said goo then stomping the vulnerable colony cluster flat.

"Was Saf some well respected goo-cube in the goo-community or something?" Lix snapped at some avian alien who had gotten too close to Jack. It smelled female, and that was enough reason to get the nip. A startled, and satisfying, squawk signaled the return of Lix being the closest person to Jack with a feminine scent, as it should be.

"Pffft, nah. The Greer didn't exactly put the guy on a pedestal but he was successful. I'm ai'n't gonna assume he wasn't putting Roarks back in his community somehow, even if it was family or somethin'." Jack weaved through the crowd with practiced efficiency, deftly dragging Lix right passed the large elevators that would take them deeper into Koorka Station's outer rings.

"So, why all the boom balls, white meat?" Lix asked, clacking her fangs together. "Seems kinda overkill with the revolver and all."

"Ah, a good chance for ya first lesson in warfare!" Jack reached back and pulled the raptor's head under his arm, her claws coming up to try and free herself. An effort in futility.

"Gnah! Ugh… warfare?"

"Yup. So, this baby," He intoned, patting the revolver's fat grip with his free hand. "Fires breaker rounds, mean little bastards with fluted tips. Less recoil with similar wound channels and accuracy to normal rounds which is really nice 'cause this fucker is chambered in four-four-five which is kinda rare and expensive kicks like a wonky drive core. But that's neither here nor there. Tell me, captain, why would I want to avoid possibly puttin' a hole in someone and sendin' a breaker round off into who knows where?"

Lix paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing in thought as she tilted her head back and forth, her tail wrapping around to find itself clutched in her own claws. The whole thing sounded dangerous, wild, and unpredictable. In fact… the revolver sounded a little… too much. If he was worried about blowing holes in people, why not just use… a smaller gun? Or a weaker caliber? Did it work like that? From what she knew of ballistic weaponry on ships, explosive powder was used to… well, project the projectile. Smaller weapons were just downsized versions, which was simple enough. So why not use a lower grain count in his ammunition?

"Can't you just use a weaker bullet?"

"Good question, and unfortunately no. Four-Four-Five only gets so light on the powder."

"Well, what stopping you from damaging something important then? Like… what if you hit an important system or damage a bulkhead?"

"On a ship that would be a nasty issue, on a station, less so." He gestured about himself, making sure to not release his scaly prisoner. "There's tons of other compartments and habs, might even cause collateral injury and whatnot." Lix nodded at that, the scaly ridges above her eyes furrowing.

"Ah, you said you have concussive grenades… and chemical… nothing that could compromise a hull or something. You've outfitted for your environment, obviously." Several passerby scooted aside as her long tail began to wag. "You know, in hindsight, it should have been obvious."

"Bah, ya just never had to think about this stuff."

"What if the gas comes your way though?"

"Don't breathe and run like hell. Not a real big chance though, I've got a mixture that's heavy as hell, hard to disperse and all, just to avoid shit like that."

Gradually, the relatively clean walkways and halls gave way to dingier habitats and the underlying rust of life, grime becoming the pallet by which the station was painted. So too did the people change in tandem, Lix shuffling closer to her Human companion while bearing her fangs at the rough and tumble crowd.

"You know a lot about this stuff for a mechanic."

"Told ya, ran with a bad crowd back in the day." Jack pulled the lizard tighter, grinning all the while. "You got any Risks on ya?"

"Wha- oh, no. I keep all my stuff digital. I'd be worried I'd lose 'em or they'd vanish."

"Smart, but some punks only deal in Risks. No digital money trail, ya know?" Lix whistled as he pat his pocket, jingling several empty Risks that accompanied his real money hidden somewhere on his person. Sacrificial pawns to be given up to some quick fingers.

"That kinda scene, eh? New orders, I want to come back up with as many scales as I go down with. Protect your captain, crewman."

"Protect the captain, aye!" Jack saluted with a pair of alloy fingers, suddenly changing course and taking Lix with him whether she wanted to or not. The orderly halls gave way to a maze of pipes and corridors that gradually became more and more mind boggling. Less and less were the duo surrounded by the general populace of Koorka, replaced by a stern-faced group and the odd maintenance worker or twitching individual gibbering at nothing that they gave a wide berth. Noticeably was the uptick in Greer, the vaguely square shaped species oozing about and…

Lix watched with wide eyes as one slurped into a tube the size of her leg, vanishing with a wet slop that left nary a drop of its gooey body behind.

"Oh… I try not to be all judgy but ew. Ew! It just… shlorped right on in there like snot up a vacuum!"

"Shlorped?"

"Shhhlrope!" Lix stamped her paws as she tried, relatively successfully, to imitate the less than appetizing noise of a Greer squeezing itself into a maintenance pipe. "Where's it going? What's it doing? Why is it doing it?" Jack just laughed, dragging the confused and frankly terrified Kux'lar around the pipe as she ducked, as if she feared a massive blob of goo to rocket out into her face.

"A ton of Greer become engineers 'cause they can… well, get into spaces no one else can. Not with the ease they can at least. No other species can respond to an emergency as fast as they can either. They don't need air and they only need a space big enough for their colonies. Problem is, good luck talking to one out and about. They need implants or devices to communicate." The crackling speaker back in docking bay twenty-seven came to mind, Saf's voice had only come from its rusty interior…

"How… do they communicate? Do they jiggle a certain way?" Lix waggled her hips, her tail undulating wildly.

"Nah, apparently it's in the way the colonies move in the goo and how the goo moves inside… or something. I don't speak Greer." Lix could only nod as the corridors became tight enough that the smaller crowd around them were forced into something of an orderly line, her tail wrapping around Jack's leg as they began to follow a winding slope between the pipes. Gone were the gentle overhead lights, replaced by a disconcerting red glow from bulbs set within steel cages every so often. Hard faces, each one wholly focused on minding their own business, slid in and out of view in time with their passing. "Alright scaly lady, start puttin' ya race face on. Stick to me like ya did the night after our victory, ya hear?"

"I'll bite you, everyone can hear."

"An' they don' give a shit neither. Stay close." Lix blinked at the man's no-nonsense tone, a heat rising in her cheeks beneath her scales as he firmly pulled her to his side.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Okay Jack, you're in charge from here. I fly and you… do really shady stuff that makes me really suspicious of you."

"Like any good relationship, yeah? Intrigue is a good spice."

"Riiiight, the kind that makes my nose burn."

"Well take a whiff, 'cause where we're going it smells like shit." Jack mumbled, several strangers huffing their agreement around him. Lix cast her eyes about at them, wondering at the recognition in their eyes. Just how well was the proprietor of the Stripped Bolt known in Koorka? Could she ask Morty or maybe that Franky character for more on who Jack really was?

Did it even matter? And why not just ask the man himself? One look up at the Human was all the answer she needed; his usually jovial face had hardened into a countenance akin to granite. His eyes were smokey, and his lips pursed in a tense line. It sent shivers down her spine all the way to the tip of her tail, and she knew, she was scared. Scared that the answers might break whatever image she had made of Jack in her head. Truth, sometimes, was less preferable to a comfortable ignorance. The man had never done her wrong, not yet at any rate, and when she pushed emotion out of the equation, he really did stand to gain from being the best starship mechanic he could be for her.

After all, why distrust the man when he was bringing her down here into obviously dangerous territory for her ship? There had to be more to it than bettering the odds of her next race, right? Other avenues had to be available, they didn't even try to shop around in the central decks of the station. Sure, they'd probably pay a premium and come back home empty pawed but… they hadn't even made the attempt. Which of course meant Jack knew it was nothing more than a waste of time. In the end… that's what it came down to; Jack knew and she didn't. Lix still didn't know Koorka Station, no matter how much it was growing on her.

"So, what's different between squeezing through smelly pipes and rubbing up against strangers and squeezing into an elevator and rubbing up against strangers? Why are we going this way?" Lis clacked her jaws, glaring at a man behind her who kept bumping her tail until he gave her a bit of space.

"Those elevators open into chaos," Jack began, running a metal hand across his short hair. "More muggings happen at the entrance to the lower decks than anywhere else. Goin' this way, at least the bastards down below hesitate." Several eavesdroppers eyed the mechanic with raised eyebrows and confusion, the man who had been invading Lix's tail space pipping up with a voice that only a decade long chain smoker could muster without eviscerating their throat.

"Why yous callin' it the lower decks? It's the Vents." He intoned, his throat trembling as if struggling to let air pass the haggard vocal cords.

"Because I hate the Vents and everyone that lives in it, so I refuse to call it what they do. I'm a petty bastard." Jack's eyes narrowed as he seethed, the skin of his nose crinkling with the hate one usually reserves for taxes. Lix, being the steadfast companion she was, latched onto the hints of a juicy story.

"Now this I gotta hear, come on white meat what do you have against the Vents?"

"The first time I came down here to try and set up some business my Risk was stolen. Winds up bein' the kid of the pencil necked punk I was trying to set up a parts swap with. He just laughed about it. It wasn't a good idea for me to come down here to the lower decks for a while after that."

"What? Why?" Lix looked up at the Human as he scratched his neck, his eyes locked to the ceiling as several people around them began to snicker.

"He punched the door panel on the way out with those freaky arms of his and broke it. Caused a malfunction that locked the shop keep inside. Only one of many 'Jack Incidents'." The man behind the raptor chuckled, the sound akin to blended gravel.

"Jack! There was a kid in there, right? You said you saw the kid again which must mean he was in the store."

"She, the kid was a little girl, and I'm aware. I got the door back open!" Offense dripped from the man's voice as more snickers, maybe even some cackles, rose around them. "And fixed it later. Even got a good deal on a high focal lens from Anerwarp, slapped it on a client's mining laser."

"Ever since then, the locals in the Vents keep an eye on good ol' Jack." Lix could only shake her head at the stranger's words, amusement and disappointment whirling in her gut as she fixed the man with a heated glare.

"No terrorizing children when I'm in the Vents with you."

"No promises, and it's the lower decks. Besides, those kids are assholes."

The comfortable conversation faded into a tense silence, the air growing wet with the humid miasma of old metal and rust filled condensation. Warmth slowly built in the sticky air, bringing with it the stench of stagnation and the rising din of hundreds of voices. It was the scent of abandoned steel, left to rot and fester by those on the inner rings to anarchy and power. Roarks flowed freely through these rusted corridors like a lifeblood, just like weapons, drugs, and death itself. Here was the unsightly boil hidden beneath Koorka Station, the refuse pile where the station master tossed the trash of society. Or, more accurately, those without clean money to spend.

Lix blinked as the tight passage suddenly opened up to a massive, gently curving hallway no different in structure to the one they'd come from, each side pocked with stores and windows and restaurants. That, however, was where the similarities ended. The entire run had been made into a fetid maze of sheet metal street vendors and rushing, hollering customers, children, locals, and swindlers. String lights and brightly colored cloth hung between the many stalls, creating a kaleidoscope of color and dancing beams that shot through the smokey haze that seemed to rise from the very deck itself. More than anything though was the veritable sea of Risk disks that littered the floor. Some areas were so thick with the things that youngsters were piling them up just to jump in them between bouts of squeezing through the crowed to pick vulnerable pockets.

Lix followed one group that swiped a Risk from a customer much too engaged in the old art of haggling to realize his own satchel was a tad bit lighter. Victorious, the child dashed into a corner to slot the pilfered Risk into a small device he'd pulled from somewhere inside his baggy clothing, only to spit and toss the little plastic disk down to join its fellows. Lix's eyes twitched to the several pockets full of empty Risks on Jack's… jacket.

Before the 'Roid Racer could say anything, her eyes noticed that one of the zipped pockets on her flight suit, the one on her haunch no less, was open. Thankfully there was nothing in there except an old candy wrapper, but still… the Vents worked fast! She hadn't even seen anyone try and swipe something.

"Gnah, this place would take the scales off my hide if they thought they were worth something."

"No one wants your shed, weirdo."

"I'll have you know my shed is gorgeous." Lix placed a clawed hand on her chest as she returned to openly staring at the scene before her like a tourist. "Look at this though, so much energy! Not all of it good, I'm sure, but still. It's almost pretty."

"A pain in the ass, is what it is. Come on, stick close, don't let the fact that there's kids runnin' about fool ya into thinkin' this place is any kind of safe." A sturdy metal hand wrapped itself around Lix's neck, the firm pull into Jack's side bringing a rush of blood to her face, as the Human trundled her along through the crowd. Claws clacked furiously through the veritable carpet of Risks, her tail moving seemingly of its own will to swipe piles of them as she passed to the disdain of those around her, as if she were splashing in a plastic puddle. By the time they'd made it into the dense open-air market proper, several of Jack's empty Risks had vanished and every pocket on Lix's flight suit and sleeveless conquered jacket were open. The raptor couldn't help but snicker at the knowledge of the dedicated pickpocket's wasted time.

"I didn't even feel them dig in my clothes." She warbled, shaking her head to fling some of the condensation collecting on her scales.

"Wording, love. Anyway, we should see a neat little gun shop called Pew For You up ahead soon. It's the best place to get a feel for the Vents and… well, not trustworthy at all but better than most." Jack explained while placing his hand on a young pickpocket's face to keep him at bay.

"Pew For You? This place owned by a- know what? Never mind."

"The guy has ties to that Ripper gang I told you about. Used to pay 'em protection but now he's in the group proper. We buy anythin' from him and we're puttin' Roarks in their pocket but… eh." Lix nipped the man on his leg, her eyes wide with disbelief and incredulity.

"What do you mean 'eh', can't we go somewhere we aren't contributing to violent organized crime?" Jack waggled a hand in the Kux'lar's muzzle as she went in for another nip, warding her away with the threat of chomping on steel instead of skin.

"Not really, no. If ya don't set up with a protection racket down here you can kiss your stock goodbye overnight. An'… well, I don't like the Rippers but they keep the other gangs under their thumb at least." With every step the crowd thinned, the hustling pack of buyers and wailing vendors replaced with stern faced nobodies shuffling off to do their business or gruff groups of armed gang bangers loitering on the edges of the curving hallway. Most leaned up against the thresholds of hatches for the businesses that paid them protection fees, which once upon a time meant nothing more than your goods were safe from them. Now several factions glared at each other while Rippers, designated by their torn clothing and the ugly scars from their secretive initiation rituals, glared at them in turn.

Pew For You had just such protection from the Rippers themselves, several of the ratty, thin guards taking hits of some unknown drug from an aerosol can that got tossed around like a ball. Jack didn't pay them any heed, his eyes wandering the wide storefront window longingly. Several displays of all manner of death dealing firearms lay proudly, and strategically, to draw the eye. Jack's however was on the window itself.

"Man… look at this storefront, so much space! People can see inside, you can show off ya goods… I'm fuckin' jealous dude, my garage don't got nothin' like this." His whining turned to a fake pout as Lix patted his hip.

"I mean, at least you don't have to display goods at all? People kinda come to you with what they need already in mind." Lix allowed herself a wavering smile when Jack laughed, a full belly deep bellow of a laugh that had her tilting her head.

"Coming to a mechanic thinking you know what wrong with your ship… man, Lix girl, if racin' don't pan out I'll be the first to buy tickets to your stand-up routine."

"Har har, get inside!" Lix pushed the man with all the power her thin arms could muster, opting to put her shoulder in it when he didn't budge. "Gnah… stupid male." Cold air blasted the reptile like a chill winter wind as she manhandled her man into Pew For You proper, her tail curling around her own leg to avoid the cruel stream of cold coming from above. Guns of every kind lined the walls in orderly vertical hooks behind protective glass, several Rippers standing watch in the corners where they could see just nearly every blind spot in the store. Some guns were short, some were long, some were fat and bulky while others were sleek and thin. In addition were displays of body armor for all manner of species, along with just about anything one could clock someone over the head with or stick between a rib.

And the ammunition… Lix's head hurt just looking at them all, completely blindsided by the sheer number of calibers, not to mention the different types of ammo for the same caliber.

Pew For You was about the size of Jack's garage, perhaps a tad smaller, and appeared to be a one stop shop for any and all violent needs. There were even little, tiny plate carriers for Huks! Maybe Mo'Ona would agree to wear one for pictures? Lix cooed over the teeny things, marveling at how cute they looked on the little rat-lizard mannequin as Jack made his way to the front desk. The… individual manning the store was more machine than person, his eyes, nose, mouth, and legs replaced with harsh gleaming black cybernetics. A pair of yellow orbs shone back at Jack as he simply… stared.

"Looking for a hardpoint catalogue and a handheld for my reptilian friend over there. Beginner friendly, low caliber and recoil. As for the hardpoints, vessel is a custom job, an old shuttle refurbed for racing. She's got two mid-standard hardpoints."

"Damn Jack," The man began, his voice carrying the same tinny timber as Jack's repaired throat. "Not even a hello. Fuckin' nerve o' ya. Don't know whether to be impressed or pissed off that you sauntered down to the Vents."

"You can always be both, Taran. I'm here on business but I can be trouble, which one do you want?" The sudden rise in tension had Lix flexing her claws, nervously glancing about at the Ripper guards as they stood just a bit straighter. "I'd like to buy shit."

"Not how it works, Jack. You killed Rippers boyo. You an' those bigwigs up top. You wanna throw your Roarks around a new stompin' ground, take it to the inner rings."

"That was back during the big push to get out old blood and bad business and you know it." Jack snarled, pointing an alloy finger at the cyborg. "And we all saw better money from it. The Rippers could 'ave been part o' the new trusted circle but ya done gone an' fucked about." Ducking her head, Lix ambled closer Jack as his accent devolved, a sound she'd never heard before. Not that she hadn't seen the man angry, but his temper had never flared so quickly. "You boys chose a side an' it didn't pan out, ya hear? Shit's over, ya still here, you want money or not?"

"Ya gonna fold me wit' them arms o' yours if'n I says no? Like ya did the old gang?"

"Maybe. Sounds really fuckin' fun right about now." Jack's glare smoldered like rotten oil, an ember deep within their roiling depths threatened to set the whole powder keg off. Taran simply smiled, or at least, that's what Lix thought he was doing.

"Yeah… yeah, I want ya to remembah that. Don't mattah how much ya think ya changed goin' legit. Ya still the old Jack. An' I'll sell ta that, man." Taran grinned for a moment longer before leaning back with arms spread wide. "Nows then, handhelds I gots all day, but hardpoints… man that shit hard ta come by right now, ya know? Some dumb shit heel stole from Cardano and Co. an' smuggled ten, fuckin' ten, Viper Fang Mark Seven ship killer missiles and brought 'em here." Jack cursed, leaning on the counter.

"Are you fuckin' serious? That ai'n't just bringin' the heat it's startin' a fire on the station."

"Aye, an' Cardano has been eagle eyin' Koorka ever since. Handhelds are easy to sneak in but hardpoints? Good luck."

"Shiiiiit… that means I'll have to go to another station for hardpoints." Jack rubbed his chin as his accent returned to the usual, cocky tone Lix knew and loved, the reptile quietly watching the exchange while she kept a side eye on the guards.

"Nah, those ship killers put the council on high alert, everyone layin' low what don't wanna end up on some authority list." Jack heaved a tired sigh, his head lolling on his neck as he rolled a hand for the Ripper to continue.

"Fine, fine, what about handhelds for a Kux'lar?" With a jerk of his thumb, Jack indicated the patiently waiting raptor behind him who smiled with much too many teeth and a gentle wave.

"Hrmmm… thin stature, forward posture… noodle arms." Lix hissed at the rude assessment… but didn't deny it. "Ehhhh… this must be tha' pilot what got your arse outta ya garage! So, a captain… I gots just the thing." Taran clomped over to a nearby terminal behind his counter, Lix noticing for the first time that his legs ended in stumps just below his waist, the rest replaced with digitigrade cybernetics. As the gangster vanished into his back room, the raptor took the time to pin her Human companion with a glare, one he ignored with a staunch determination.

"Jaaaack… lots I don't know about you. Can't deny that I'm curious."

"Those weren't fun times, scaly lady. It's not like I'm trying to hide anything."

"No no, I'm not insinuating anything just… you keep a lot of stuff close to the chest, so I get to wondering… 's all. You aren't hiding anything though, right?"

"Yeah, promise." It wasn't his words but that crooked smile that finally convinced Lix the man was being genuine. With a huff, and roll of her eyes, Lix let the subject drop. Right on time as well, as her head snapped Taran's way as he returned with a clomp of steel feet. The Kux'lar's eyes went wide at the delightfully compact weapon placed upon the counter; a boxy thing with a strange handle and forward grip with what appeared to be a rectangular magazine well.

"A Rokton Model Twelve flachette pistol with hardened internals, meanin' I stole the springs from a heavier model, and a universal gel grip for those weird hands o' yours. Do some nasty damage to anybody not wearin' armor an' if'n they are, just shoot neck or dick. Pelvic girdle shots be king in downin' a bitch. Won't blow through a hab or hull like ya boyfriend's fuckin' compensation cannon either."

Lix couldn't stop herself from 'ooh'ing and 'aah'ing over the weapon, her claws reaching to curl around the grip. The gel formed in her hand before hardening, giving her a solid platform from which to aim with. It was a light thing, even unloaded, and the sights lined up well with her eye, though the raptor had to twist her head to bring one to bear. Jack himself was impressed, nodding along with Taran's choice. Despite the bad blood obviously between the two Humans, he couldn't deny the gangster knew his craft.

"Roktons are as solid as a drop ramp. Could prolly do as much damage throwing the thing as the flachettes. You got a range we cou-" Jack and Taran both turned towards the entrance as the drifting sound of agitated voices rang from the hallways. Many, many agitated voices. Lix fought down her urge to pace and gulp as the guards rose from their places near the corners, congregating around them with weapons raised towards the storefront.

"Fuck, are the Keelhaulers tryin' to push again? That's three times in the last month the fuckin' fo-"

Whatever Taran had meant to say was silenced in a shower of glass and a sound akin to a rage filled zipper that screamed overhead.

Oft' times, the most dangerous places you can tread advertise well their nature, and the Vents were no exception. As the blood and brain matter of the closest guard splattered Lix's face, her body freezing in terror, she decided it would be wise to pay heed.

Lest she pay the blood tax.