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Giving her clothes a little time to air dry, she finally pressed on through the forest. Rocky outcroppings and sudden descents from the hillside soon found the outlaw near another highway. Or was it the same one, just at another point? Male voices ahead argued amongst themselves and she crouched to get a better look at the trio of modestly dressed humans. Remaining hidden she studied the surroundings for another ambush and soon determined there was none and cautiously moved closer.

"...it's the stupid converter," a smaller, gruff voice stated as she eyed the short, dark brown hair, slender build, but also noticed the pistol in a shoulder holster hidden beneath his black coat whose pockets on the sleeve and front reminded her of a flight jacket. "I told you that before we left," he pointed into the opened hood as both companions stood with their back to her.

"Rory said it was fixed," the middle one shrugged. Taller, his dirty blonde pony tail curled gently beneath it's thin band as he turned and she noted an unshaven, strong face.

"Guess we just have to pay him a visit then when we get back," the first commented as he leaned into the engine, now masked by the second. The third was of medium height but, muscular as the backs of both arms resembled thick ropes but, the pistol hidden beneath the tan vest at his beltline kept her attention moreso than his features.

"No doubt. Muir's going to be upset with you if we don't hurry."

"I'm working as fast as I can, unless you want to help."

"Mason," the third finally spoke up. "Relax."

"Then tell him to get off my back," the first wiped his hands and walked around to the far side of the speeder. The racy lines of the vehicle smacked of money and she began to wonder if they were hitmen or some of Bingor's muscle. Either way, she didn't need the attention and decided to move left. Suddenly the air around her lit up from blaster fire. Red bolts seared lines between the trees and leaves and she quickly dodged to cover.

"I told you," the first excitedly reminded. "I told you she'd be here." He laughed maniacally and continued firing, more to keep her head down than anything and she quickly moved upward onto the first, thick branch. Peering around the tree, she noticed the other two fan out and begin moving in on the flanks, pistols pointed at her last location. So, she waited.
They must've had a sensor of some type to find her in the woods. Well funded, these guys at least weren't amateurs.

Keeping her mind open to the dangers around her, she noticed the taller one close while the third, muscular one remained farther away while he moved around. She leaped through the air and caught the taller one in the chest, kicking him backwards as he tried to raise his pistol for a shot. Gratia then dodged, and brought him up to become her body shield, then grabbed his pistol and shot at the mechanic near the speeder as three bolts hit her shield squarely. Right arm spun around to the other flanker as he crouched and aimed at the side of the tree, then waited for him to emerge. As his hand and pistol broke the plane of the thick trunk, she fired into his face and the shooter disappeared into the brush. Now limp in her arm, she dropped the first victim and sprinted towards the vehicle, aiming at the hood and windshield as the support nervously rose and aimed. Two shots hit him in the chest as his stubbed rifle fired red bolts into the air, then he fell backwards onto the pavement.

The hunter rounded the hood quickly and noticed the third target down, then immediately scanned the long stretch of road behind her. Other than the fading echo of gunfire, the sounds of the forest returned. Now she was armed again and though blasters weren't her first choice, they were better than nothing at all. She pulled the hood down and ran to the body in the road and grabbed his rifle, then hopped into the speeder, cranked the ignition and took off.

"Very well done," the radio crackled to life and she immediately recognized her fan.

"Thanks, Birkita."

"Now that you have a vehicle, where do you think you can run? Mycale isn't very hospitable once Bingor finds out you've just killed three of his men, not to mention the mess you made at the Academy. You're quickly running out of avenues of escape and friends."

"I never had any friends to begin with. You taught me that," she reminded as she continued racing down the two-lane road as it gently dipped and rose with the terrain.

"We were your family. I watched you grow into the beautiful assassin that you've become. Your successes are because of what I trained you to be."

"My successes are because of what I pushed myself to be, thank you very much. You only supplied the direction." A long pause lingered as she listened to the engine roar.

"Where do you think you're going?" Gratia just smiled to herself. "If you honestly think you're going to escape this world a second time, you're mad."

"We'll see."

Birkita chuckled. "Yes, you will." Suddenly, the interior of the vehicle exploded in a cloud of green which encased her in a stifling mass that quickly began to harden. Realizing now her mistake and unable to free herself, she continued pressing on the gas pedal angrily until she passed out.

* * *

The fragrant essence of mori'klita perfumed the air as Gratia awoke to the comforts of a thickly padded mattress and silk blankets and sheets. Totally confused, she opened her eyes to the lavish surroundings. Deep blue velvet curtains graced each corner of the four-post bed, tied at their center to the black, polished wrought iron posts. Elegant lighting fixtures of brass candleholders on the walls hung over intricately carved, dark wooden furniture as she pushed herself up. Holding the thick, black comforter and red sheet to herself, she gazed to the left to notice a large window seat which flanked a large fireplace. Three sets of tall, bullet-shaped windows rose high and looked out to a golden sky and dimly highlighted the many throw pillows which lay on the rounded couch. Beyond her feet, she peered into lighter colored marble flooring which surrounded a sunken tub. On the right, next to the long dresser she glanced into a darkened entrance to a large walk-in closet and the far wall of glass doors, each fronted with a thin veil of white curtains suspended between the thin, inner wooden frames at the top and bottom.

Was this a dream, she mused and wiped her tired eyes, then glanced again at the expensively decorated bedroom. Nope.