The Lion's Den

[Neesa]

Her robes fluttered in air that rushed past her. The summer nights were hot and humid in Livien Magnus, but she always found the cool air leaping between buildings. Drawing the Force around her, she reached out to the rooftop racing up to meet her and resisted its approach. She touched down softly, feet dancing against the smooth tiles as she found her balance.

Step by step she crept up the roof. One hand found purchase on decorative masonry that jutted up where the two sloping edges of the roof met, whilst her other patted down her robes to find the tool she needed. Neesa pulled a sliver of metal from her pocket. The moonlight caught thousands of lines of circuitry that criss-crossed its surface.

 

[Neesa]

Before she started she paused to look out across the rooftops of the Hillside District. Once this city had swallowed her up and chewed her about. Now it was her playground. He had taught her how to rise up from her position, take what she was owed and become who she deserved to be. Only those who had wronged her deserved her ire, but when you spent the first ten years of life in a gutter it was easy to see that everyone was responsible.

The metallic slip was inserted into a boxy dish that crowned the rooftop. Against the dull slate it looked entirely out of place. Now the only person who would hear the alarms was her.

 

[Neesa]

She pulled a rope from within her dark grey cloak and tied it off to the dish. Whilst she was nimble, she had her limits. Neesa knew they remarkably well. He had pushed her to test them over and over again. With a flick, her cloak was thrown back. It was mottled and stained, with several patches and shoddy repairs. But it was thick, waterproof and quiet. A thick, clear black outline would actually have been obvious in the night. The patchwork of dull browns and greys made her almost invisible against the slates. Her hood was pulled tight and she wore leather gloves. In the moonlight her pallid skin was her worst enemy.

 

[Neesa]

Her feet found the edge of the guttering. Bracing her toes against the lip of the roof, she used the rope to twist around and find a handhold. Only then did she lower one foot down to find a toehold on the wall below. Neesa lowered herself down with extreme care, mindful of the fragile guttering that could be knocked down.

As she found a window ledge she managed to take her weight off the rope and flicked it aside. Potentially useful as an escape route, but it couldn't be left to dangle over the window. Letting it dangle she used her free hand to take something else from her cloak. It appeared as a tiny silver bullet, but when she pressed it to the edge of the window frame it unfurled. The tiny insectoid droid took a moment to get its bearings and then slipped its spindly legs into the cracks. Neesa waited patiently. She was exposed her. From the depths of her hood she eyed the street below, scanning for movement. Her heart thumped loudly in her ears and her breath quickened.

 

[Neesa]

Without even consciously being aware of it, her right right went to find a knife. Her slider fingers wrapped around the hilt and she felt her anxiety slip away. Her eyes narrowed in determination. There could be no failure tonight. Knives and bladed weapons had always felt natural in her hands, they were an anchor she could focus on, an extension of herself. It had been that way ever since she first used a blade in anger.

THE PAST

 

[Neesa]

A bitter chill wind cut through her room, finding the gap in her blankets that had opened as she rolled over. That icy bite brought her out of a shallow sleep. Neesa grumbled and pulled the rags tighter around her slender frame. But it was no use now. She was very quickly wide awake. That was necessary. Where she slept was never safe. She could never afford the luxury of deep slumber.


Whilst she was reluctant to leave the warmth of several layers there was also no food left in the vicinity. She slowly stirred and rolled out of her covers. The clothes she wore hung off her malnourished frame. Genetically pale skin and sunken features did not go well together, giving her a harsh look. That was a real problem. Two girls her age who begged nearby had much softer features and earned far more than her.

 

[Neesa]

She moved to the window. Unlike the others it hadn't been boarded up. Whilst it allowed the winter winds to blow through it was also her only entrance to the fire damaged house. The other children were not as able climbers.


Neesa was always an independent creature. The children from the gang that called this region of the barrows their own generally tolerated her presence. There were downsides as well as benefits to running with the gangs. They slept in large groups, huddled together for warmth. There was protection and safety in numbers. But there was also disease, the real criminals who used the gangs. Several girls she knew had been attacked by people within their groups as well.

 

[Neesa]

Neesa moved cautiously as she approached the window. Partially so she could carefully take a look before making herself visible, but mostly because the fire damaged floor was unstable.


She peered down into the alley below. No sign of anyone down there. Neesa reached out of the opening, slender white fingers gripping the drain pipe. Down was easier than up. Even with her skeletal frame climbing was hard work and took previous energy. Energy she could ill afford with how little she ate.

 

[Neesa]

Begging through the evening did not pay well. Those who walked this district had precious little coin to start with and there were a lot of beggars. Girls did better than the boys, bit Neesa never did as well as some of the girls who looked more local.

When someone stood over her and stayed there she was surprised to look up and see another one of the children. Normally she kept her head down and pleaded quietly for spare change. She looked down at the meagre collection of credit chits - barely enough for bread - and back up at the boy. Her hand clasped a small rock hidden under her clothes behind her back.

 

[Neesa]

“Wot?”

“More coin’n that available if you want it.” She canted her head to one side and gave the boy a curious look. Older than her by a good few years, but still a long way from an adult.

“Did’n you hear me?”

“Doing wot?” She asked.

“Not much, stand about at night. Give someone a parcel. Easy coin. Come down warehouse three… one with a blue nexu picture onnit in a bit.”

“Alrigh’” That seemed to appease him, she loosened her grip on the rock.

 

[Neesa]

She wouldn't have gone to the warehouse, not normally. But she was shaky, weak, even after eating the bread the credits managed to stretch to. Neesa was genuinely worried she didn't have the strength to climb back up. In these conditions being down at street level without her blankets could be fatal.

For a while she hung back and watched, melding into the shadows. It wasn't a meeting for just her, that became clear as more and more children arrived. Not just the gang from her district, but the neighbouring ones too. They hissed and stared at each other, but no fights broke out. The reason for that became obvious when two burly adults came out and chaperoned the rest of the children inside. Neesa decided to tag along, following in a small group and them lingering at the back of a crowd of children.

 

[Neesa]

They were being ushered forward and then were stepping up one at a time to be given a small parcel and a scrap of flimsiplast. Neesa followed along with the crowd, but kept shifting to let others past so she could remain near the back. Something deep in her gut told her this wasn't a good place to be.

Tilting her head to one side she attuned her hearing to the sound of voices. The grown ups near the back of the crowd were whispering in that tone that suggested they were trying not to be heard. And doing a bad job of it.

 

[Neesa]

“You sure?”


“My man in the barracks hasn't lied before. He's the informant.”


“The blonde one. Next to rodian?”


“No, two back, muddy red top.”


“I see him, go take care of it.”


“The canals?”


“No, they've been coming up at the locks. The river.”


A normal child would never have understood what the conversation meant. Neesa wouldn't have either if she hadn't heard that word before. Informant. She'd seen the grown men who offered easy coin to the children use it before. Had seen what had happened when the word had been thrown out in accusation.

 

[Neesa]

She saw the hand come to rest on the brownish red jumper. Not a harsh grip, but a firm one nonetheless. The boy was carefully extracted from the crowd with the least fuss and taken away.

Neesa decided to follow suite. This was dangerous work. Those packages would hold spice or something worse. She'd watched them work from the shadows before. A naturally cautious creature, she often observed what the other homeless children in her district got up to. She'd learned from their successes as much as their failures.

She slipped out the way she had come, but not without being seen. The same man who had pointed out the blonde boy stepped into the crowd and started asking questions if the children.

 

[Neesa]

Normally she would have been more careful checking the alley before making for the window. But tonight she was tired, had barely eaten. It would take most of her strength just to get back to her room. Her quiet, safe room.

Barely a few feet up and she spotted movement. She tried to scramble faster but fingers took an iron grip around one ankle. Someone much stronger, and far heavier than her took that grip. Her own fingers barely kept their purchase for a second before she came down. Her head caught the wall as she came down, the rough masonry scraping her forehead.

 

[Neesa]

She at least managed to put her hands between herself and the flagstones rather than coming down on her chin. Frantically kicking she tried to drag herself along the ground, but then she was pinned by a heavy weight. Neesa went very still. There might have been a moment to escape coming, but this wasn't it. Further struggle would just waste her reserves. It had always been like this. When danger came she didn't panic. Her anger and resentment went from fire in her core to ice in her veins. Fingers curled into her palms and her nails drew blood. She was an especially patient and analytical creature when frightened.

 

[Neesa]

She felt a hand grasp the top of her head. Suddenly she found her features exposed to the night sky. She turned her head to look back at her assailant, but before she could those strong fingers took a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back painfully.

He's trying to identify me. Why? The cold part of her brain murmured whilst the rest of her panicked.

“You left the meeting earlier. Why?”

She didn't reply. An open palm came down on the side of her head. Not enough to really hurt, but it sent a shock of pain right through her jaw, left her dazed for an instant.

 

[Neesa]

“Why?”

“Did’n want the work.”

“It pays. You ratting on us?” His voice was deep. Anger forced it into something between a growl and a whisper.

“I ain't a rat. Didn't want to get picked up by the law. That's why I left.”

“Law don't care if you're kind is holding goods or not. They treat you the same either way, just for being seen.”

His voice had changed. Slow drawn out words. He was thinking and this was apparently a slow process. Neesa tried to shift one leg but found his weight just as overbearing as before.

“Just to be safe we're gonna ship you off to Port Destien. Informant or not we'll send you away and find you new worn

 

[Neesa]

There was always a chance. Normally she could feel it coming. A way to escape. A narrow alley, a crowd, a distraction. But the ease with which he picked her whole body up made her concern grow that there would be no chances here.

The house she had been living in was seriously fire damaged. All the windows bar one boarded up with thick wood. He smashed in the door with two swift kicks.

He was a gnarled knot of muscle. One milky white eye and cleft palate gave him an even more intimidating demeanour. Neesa went limp, waiting for a chance. He threw her down and propped up the door behind them.

 

[Neesa]

"Always work to be found," he grunted. Neesa looked around, she'd never been down to the ground floor of the building. From down here the broken, charred beams above were dark and foreboding. The ground was covered in a fine, slippery layer of soot. There was still a fire damaged painting hung across one wall, the charred and deformed visage of the house's previous occupants looking down upon them.

Neesa looked up at the damaged walls above. The remains of the staircase were skeletal remains. She was light, he was heavy. There was a chance she could climb back up to the upper levels where he couldn't.