*Starting Scene*

A grey, ruined, apartment building of ten flights and numerous rooms spread out horizontally quietly sits in an abandoned part of a city during what appears to be the evening. The silence doesn't last much longer as multiple footsteps echo throughout the halls containing railings stretching in front of the walls and doors. Soon enough, the rushing movement caused by the noise disappear around the apartment poised in the last floor, at the heart of the hall.

Afterwards, a group of twenty gruff men cladded in black, combat gear are presented as they wield blasters that are a tad smaller compared to the Lacertas'.

One male stationed the farthest from the doorway firmly whispers into a communicator strapped to his left arm, holding his weapon tightly, "We've reached the targeted area! Teams 2 and 3, remain on standby at the lower levels on the off chance he slips by us!"

A masculine voice faintly rebuttals from the other side, "Roger that!"

The apparent leader nods in acceptance while drawing his attention to his comrades and removes his right hand from the gun so he can signal them to begin infiltrating the residence.

The guy closest to the door carefully pushes the entrance open via his left appendage, compliments of the structure's power supply not existing to retain it shut and his western position. With that, a handful of characters sneak inside the tattered region while only a tiny sum of light allow visibility, however, this doesn't deter the men as they wear contact lenses providing night vision. The first batch of fellows analyze each room they come across, discerning nothing every time and steadily grow tense the deeper they travel inward.

Meanwhile, the adult in charge taps his left forearm to have his lenses display the layout of the facility, exhibiting grey dots at the quarters his men intruded, as he mumbles, "He should be here. The reports confirm it. They'll find him eventually."

The several individuals persist their search until arriving at the apartment's back end, dumbfounded to see that no one's depicted besides them in there. Following a brief pause, a man speaks into his own communicator with his constitution straightened since the group were keeping themselves low for security. "Boss, he's not home."

The boss hurriedly emits frustration while deactivating his lenses. "Shit!" He then motions his head to the rest of his team to go inside, and ultimately, the assortment of gentlemen are united with the ones who enter first. Once that's accomplished, leaving the doorway wide open, the leader scans the confines with his blaster pointed down as he utters in a normal volume, although still mad, "Weeks of tracking his habits just went to shreds! He was SUPPOSED to be in at this moment!" The adult looks at his companions. "I asked if there was another place he liked staying!"

A male located to the boss' right replies as he possesses his weapon ahead of his chest at a diagonal angle. "He has none aside this building. We already checked the other apartments too."

The person in charge views the guy who recently talked and strives to calm himself. "Did anybody watch him? If not, we're morons."

The man towards the quarters' left sector, based on the leader's perspective, confidently declares, "No, I tailed him prior to the initiating of our attempt! He definitely was in the premise!"

The boss snaps his right hands fingers towards the gruff character. "Correct. I had forgotten you had informed me of that." Realization randomly encompasses him with a horrified conduct included. "Wait! It couldn't be-"

An unexpected storm of bullets interrupts the individual's speech as over half of the team within the apartment are pierced by the projectiles, blood splattering everywhere. Fortunately for the one in charge and a few of his comrades, they managed to duck with sufficient haste while the apartment gains excessive damage.

While the barrage of shots continue to fly, the leader registers that there is no cover as he brims fury. "That dick! He lured us into a trap!" The boss quickly veers his concentration to his communicator, doing his best to compose himself. "Team 2! What's the status?!"

The male from earlier answers, also under the pressure of gunfire. "I didn't get an opportunity to spot him! The majority of my squad are dead!"

The leader's eyes widen, fear and disbelief enveloping him, as he mutters, "He's attacking us simultaneously... How the hell...?" He swiftly alters the channel of his device while commanding with seriousness established, "Team 3, report!" The man hears total silence from his third set of allies as dread overruns him and softly remarks, "Impossible... Did he kill them all...?

A couple of moments later, the bombardment of bullets halts as the survivors radiate caution, glancing about in the process. Despite the looming threat, the guys inside the apartment rise to their feet and gradually maneuver to the walls, offering them minimal protection considering that the previous onslaught successfully penetrated the structure, as the ones at the lower levels put an effort in depicting whoever implemented the assault.

During that, an Irish, young fellow is shown at a spacious lot ahead of the facility while dressed in a long-sleeved, buttoned, white coat owning grey lining with its collar raised to blot his mouth as he has grey pants and black shoes. Concurrently, the lad's lifeless, indigo eyes stare at the building as he temporarily scratches the vertical scar extending over his left cheek from his eye, wind forcing his short, unkempt, white hair to flutter.

Upon witnessing the peculiar male, the person that had conversed with the boss a couple of times states through his communicator that's perched onto his right shoulder and stays down substantially to avoid danger, "I got him in sight, sir." He suddenly notices a dozen machines armed with rotary barrels before the target while inquiring in a shocked manner, "Are those Portable Turrets?!"

The leader quickly verifies his comrade's question via peaking over the right wall he's hiding behind as his lenses permit him to clearly observe the coat-endowed gentleman and the weapons, agitation consuming the adult in charge. "Damn Callahan! Where did he pull that out from?!"

Callahan taps his right thumb with his four fingers, sustaining the limb hanging next to himself, while vaguely commenting, "Four are left in my apartment." The indigo-eyed character strikes his left pinkie and ring finger via that appendage's thumb, having partially hoisted it sideways. "On the 7th floor, two of them continue to breathe and the knuckleheads at the 4th are goners." Callahan drops his left arm as intensity is portrayed. "I wanna' be close and personal for these last 6." He lightly presses his right hand's fingers on the bottom of his palm.

Following the Irish's subtle gesture, the Turrets resume their firing and compels the men with black combat attire to rush for the floor, although immediately discover that they aren't safe there anymore due to suffering minor wounds as the guy nearby the boss yells out of pain, "Mother of...! He adjusted their aim!"

The leader frantically gazes at his companions. "Let's move! This is too much of a disadvantageous position!"

Unprecedentedly, the plethora of projectiles cease their rampage, rendering the blaster-carrying individuals baffled as they share a glimpse with each other.

Right when the boss was going to express his confusion, bullets rapidly break through the apartment's ceiling to rain onto the quartet while killing a member in an instance.

In response, the leader scrambles towards the door with desperation demonstrated. "He's on top of us!"

The remaining two males of the leader's team strive to mimic his action, however, are cut off by the ceiling collapsing without warning. Because of that, the man who was further back is significantly buried underneath the debris, accidentally releasing his hold of his weapon.

At the same time, Callahan descends from the building's roof, landing behind the mound of rocks, and possess two silver, Glock 18 in his hands while pointing them towards the doorway thanks to him already facing it, constantly shooting at his foes.

The duo evade Callahan's attacks through traversing toward the hall's left end, which is the way they originally came from, as the boss hastily utters into his communicator, "Listen, we're meeting up! The circumstance demands it!"

While the leader and his ally retreat, Callahan briefly views the fellow blanketed by stones until casually journeying out of the area. Once he's on the verge of turning left, the lad directs his left gun to the downed enemy as he commenced stirring and launches a single bullet to permanently make him sleep. After that, Callahan takes several steps towards where the final members of the primary team are running and haphazardly tosses his weapons above his head with minor strength applied.

The subordinate steers his focus backwards, curiosity soon emanating from seeing Callahan hurl the guns skyward, and whispers, "What is he doing...?"

Then, Callahan's tools abruptly are dismantled with no interaction by their wielder before the young man snatches the pieces as new parts expel from his being and assembles a Precision Sniper Rifle. Plus, the white-haired character promptly aims the weapon at the onlooker, watching the opponent through the scope via his left eye, and fires.

That results in a headshot becoming attained while the boss is greatly frightened as he felt the blood of his companion spill onto him, having navigated his attention to the left to see the recently deceased. Right after, the one in charge descends the stairway that's he just arrived at and fervently shouts, "This son of a bitch is unreal!"

Callahan randomly appears in front of the leader, sitting atop the diagonally stationed safety bars the path has as he no longer carries the rifle so he can maintain leverage on his present placement and concentrates upon the adult with an emotionless behavior. "I barely did anything to merit your exaggeration, except for this."

The leader's awestruck and hurriedly points his blaster to Callahan.

Callahan swiftly reveals one of his Glocks again within his left hand, considering that's the limb closest to his adversary, while instilling two fast shots onto the older individual's shoulders.

Due to that, the boss inadvertently contorts rearward as he's writhing in agony and ends up blasting a hole into the ceiling.

In the meantime, the two survivors of Team 2 display themselves towards Callahan's right and are surprised to find the Irish with their leader.

A split second later, while the pair prepared to fire at him, Callahan effortlessly embeds a bullet into both men's forehead via his left gun situated ahead of his abdomen as he retains his vision towards the guy in charge. Achieving that, the coat-wearing person hangs his left hand beside his waist and nonchalantly remarks, "You're all alone now."

The boss stumbles back prior to falling on his ass as he grits his teeth to endure the pain aching him, his sight fixed toward Callahan.

Callahan bends forth, issuing the opposing male a stern glare. "I'm gonna' be straightforward with you. You'll be joining the rest of your pals in a few. I simply want to comprehend what you were thinking when you chose me to attack. My prize is grand, so that must've told you the risk and difficulty of going against me. It's pretty ballsy, especially with the little information you got on me."

The leader demonstrates confusion and asks amidst gasping for air, "What makes you sure that we don't have much Intel?"

Callahan confidently smirks. "If you had, you would've brought 200 people with you as a bare minimum."

The wounded character brims frustration while trying to gain function of his arms to better grip his blaster since the two shots that hit the boss weakened him.

Callahan sighs out of boredom as he scratches the left sector of his hair with it. "It's obvious you and your men were very egotistical, but I changed your attitudes easily. Y'all didn't factor my capabilities well. Tailing me solely for weeks, instead of months. Plus, in a seriously poor method. A senile elder would probably detect you. Your equipment and style is purposeless. Honestly, no significance whatsoever."

The boss lets out a growl before rapidly maneuvering his hands to direct his weapon's barrel at Callahan and passionately cries, "You-" He's instantly cuts off by a bullet penetrating the anterior of his throat. blood gushing, and becomes limp.

Callahan, containing his western appendage stretched to the dead leader while properly sitting, eventually deviates his concentration to his right as he slants his head. "Forget it. I can't expect a lot from fools." He drops his left limb to the safety bar until detaching himself from it to stand upon the stairs with his head's stance repair. "I wasted valuable shells and went through the hassle of setting up my Turrets." Callahan starts descending the steps, not caring about the two corpses he caused, as he dismantles his tool while hiding the parts within his clothing. "What a life."

*Scene Change*

Doyenne examines the details currently portrayed by the gigantic monitor as suspicion plagues her. "Hmm..."

Eve hears Doyenne's noise, unable to depict her friend thanks to being seated on the floor that's at the right corner from the brunette's perspective and is fairly bruised, as she hesitantly questions, "Uh... Everything alright, Doyenne?"

Doyenne promptly tilts her constitution onward to view pass the desk blocking Eve's presence. "It's the coordinates of our agreed meeting point with Earth 03's personnel. The trip will be costly."

Tessa includes herself into the conversation with criticism established. "They should compensate us then."

Doyenne straightens her posture while reverting her gaze to the main screen. "No doubt. The problem is that we're short for the journey. We can't put aside our supply shopping."

Eve emits concern, crossing her legs to enter a more comfortable pose because of her previous curled position as she mounts her hands upon the terrain to lean forward. "Why didn't you tell 'em that when they called again? They need to be flexible with us since we're doing 'em the favor."

A solemn conduct engulfs Doyenne. "I prefer limiting my discussion with them. You understand the reason."

Eve reflects wrath and purses her lips during the lowering of her head.

Doyenne soon glances at her crew with an apologetic demeanor arising. "It's no excuse though. I oughta' have done what's required for everyone's benefit." A hint of enthusiasm forms. "Once we reach Lionsten for our pit stop, I'll hunt down enough cash to complete the trip!"

Eve quickly gets off the floor to confront Doyenne while exhibiting tenacity as she gestures her right hand at herself and the grey-eyed dame. "You mean WE!"

Doyenne rests her focus to Eve as she coldly orders, "Sit back down. You're still grounded."

Eve gives Doyenne a dull look, her body slouched forth, before following the beauty's command and says in sadness, "Yes, Doyenne..."

Witnessing Eve slowly plummet, Doyenne haphazardly remembers something while switching her vision to the region next to Kelly via adjusting herself accordingly, intrigue showing itself. "Mamori's not back yet?"

Kelly momentarily stares at Doyenne, uncertain of what she's talking about, until realization dawns onto her as she shifts her attention to the left. "Oh, yeah! It slipped my mind that you sent her out!" The twin-tailed chick demonstrates embarrassment while returning her concentration to Doyenne. "She's often so quiet."

Doyenne displays a mildly agitated scowl and mutters, "She sits beside you... She's good at blending in, but come on..." The pale-skinned female aims her sight to the Bridge's entrance as she replaces her attitude with scrutiny. "She oughta' have finished taking them to their room by now."

*Scene Change*

Mamori sits atop a rectangular bed, stationed toward the right sector of a small room, with beige sheets neatly covering it while shyly watching Suta leaning against the opposite wall. She had recently concluded her task of delivering Virgil and Anemone to their respective quarters, both of which are across the hall from Suta's, as the room has a cool temperature due to Virago's system.

As the brown-eyed girl emanated her timidness, Suta analyzes the minor space while vaguely amused. "This will be the first time I side with Anemone. It's kinda' constraining." He directs his gaze to Mamori amidst quipping, "Guess I've been spoiled."

Mamori adds a bit of curiosity to her behavior. "Really? Where did you used to stay?"

Suta bluntly rebuttals and entwines his arms. "In a pyramid."

Mamori's jaw immediately from shock for several seconds prior to collecting her composure while depicting the part of the floor that her feet are situated, compliments of her location at the bed's edge. "Wow..."

Suta persists his speech with a carefree personality. "It was crafted for me by a race similar to humans, hence my taste in apparel."

Mamori looks at Suta. "How long ago was that?"

Suta briefly contemplates the details of his history as he peers at the ceiling before answering. "I lost track to be frank." The shaggy-haired fellow pays attention to Mamori. "My lifespan lets me experience millions of stuff, literally."

Mamori portrays a pensive demeanor and views the wall to her right. "You practically are a god, even if you don't think so. Granting people their desires and saving them from a terrible fate."

Suta chuckles. "Accomplishing someone's wish is mandatory, although I do my best in resisting the worsts of what any living creature requests. Fighting, protecting, et cetera... Those are purely my decisions."

Mamori administers her sight upon Suta again. "Why are you telling me this?"

Suta earnestly grins. "I wanna' be fair. Like I mentioned, I hope to learn about you and your friends. I felt an exchange was necessary."

Mamori nods while contentedly smiling. "That's thoughtful of you." A shred of sorrow envelopes her. "Sadly, you won't obtain much about Doyenne. She's quite secretive over her background. We're even unaware of her real name, so we began calling her Doyenne."

Suta cocks his head out of interest. "And in spite of that, you trust and follow her."

Mamori wholeheartedly replies. "Absolutely! She's done a bunch for us and we've reciprocated! We're a family!"

Suta emits a pleased attitude as he fixes his head. "Such confidence. I love it. You should flaunt it more."

Mamori blushes and plants both hands onto her mouth while radiating a bashful expression, resetting her vision downward.

Meanwhile, behind the automated, bedroom door, Virgil is poised nearby it with his left ear against the object, observing the hall to ensure nobody's coming. Currently, the blue-eyed lad is merely dressed in his uniform as both hands are inside his pants' pockets and lackadaisically thinks, "They have a nice bond." Virgil separates himself from the door as he gradually travels to the room ahead of Suta's with its entrance opened, symbolizing that it is his quarters, while continuing his mental dialogue. "Too bad I won't discover the reason Doyenne has that gem stuck to her hand. It's identical to the ones Suta defended us with."

Precisely when Virgil was entering his room, the door towards his left slides to allow Anemone to exit while also not wearing her flight suit as she wears a white t-shirt and black shorts.

Registering the sound forged by the door, Virgil swiftly navigates himself to confront Anemone as he utters with faint surprise, "Hey."

Anemone presents a firm conduct once her eyes lock with Virgil's. "What are you doing out here?"

Virgil rolls his eyes, mildly aggravated by Anemone's inquiry. "I'd ask you the same thing if I was paranoid too."

Anemone becomes flustered and quickly depletes the gap dividing the two best friends. "I'm not!" The Asian detains herself while pointing her right hand's index finger at Virgil's face. "I intended on having a chat with the woman commanding this ship!" Anemone perches her elevated limb onto her hip. "It's messed up you and Suta got to meet her when I haven't!"

Virgil slants his head left out of astonishment. "I swear, you and I oughta' swap hair color. It'd fit your hotheadedness."

Anemone narrows her eyes while sarcastically retorting. "Oh, you're hilarious!"

Virgil softens his personality as he pulls out his hands from his pockets. "Anemone."

Anemone rapidly relaxes, wondering the purpose of Virgil speaking her name. "Talk to me."

Virgil momentarily pauses to muster his sincerity. "I'm glad you're here."

Anemone's complexion alters to a bright shade of red and is substantially caught off guard as she blurts out, "What's this all of a sudden?!"

Virgil gingerly laughs while smirking. "Demonstrating my appreciation. Though it was tough, I could hear you cheering me on during the test. It totally helped."

Anemone soon issues Virgil a grin as her coloring goes back to normal, commenting with joy, "That's what I always wanna' do for you." She glimpses behind herself via steering her head to the right while internally debating about something until instilling her concentration to Virgil again. "Screw it. I'll bug this vessel's commander later. Why don't we chill together and yap about the crazy crap we went through today?" Anemone giggles.

Virgil sharply nods. "That's sure to be fun. It permits me the chance to recount each time you freaked out."

Anemone's eyes widen and shows annoyance amidst defensively yelling, "Why you...!"

Virgil hurriedly dashes into his room after chuckling at Anemone.

Wasting no more than a second, Anemone pursues Virgil while causing a loud ruckus upon both entering the quarters.

*Scene Change*

Virago, having ventured through space for a decent period, arrives at the destination known as Lionsten to allot its passengers in gathering their necessities there and has been parked inside a Fuel Station. Right now, the establishment wields several other crafts possessed by different types of aliens while some extraterrestrials intently watch the Victress' ship. Simultaneously, the brown ship opens the lone hatch it contains on the left section, letting out the Victress mechanics. The near dozen chicks hastily check the condition of Virago with Lacey instructing her group.

While that transpires, Doyenne exits Virago with 6 dames tagging along as they're endowed in brown maid attire and are carrying electronic notepads. Throughout their steady progressing, the grey-eyed femme dictates as she maneuvers rearward to view the assortment of women, "Don't forget to take into account our guests when shopping for food. We need to calculate the servings with the possibility of people wanting seconds. You all have this planet's entire day to achieve your tasks. Fey and Gabriela will keep an eye on you." Doyenne diverts her focus to the ship's opening and sighs from exasperation. "Once they finally get outside."

The instance that was declared, Gabriela and Fey walk down the ramp that was administered to Virago so its crew would be able to disembark as the former nervously waves her left hand at Doyenne amidst remarking, "Sorry we took a bit! Eve's in a foul mood and was constantly complaining to us!"

Doyenne brims skepticism as she halts her movement and caresses her hair strands via her left hand. "Seriously?" The brunette exhibits a stern expression. "It's what she deserves. She refrained from confessing and that concluded with her punishment."

Fey, trailing behind Gabriela while both individuals are about to reach Doyenne and the maids, leisurely utters with her arms folded, "It's not that I don't enjoy Eve having her ass handed to her by you, however, you must be very pissed if you won't allow her to aid you in the search for a bounty."

Doyenne simply observes Fey before glancing at the surroundings. "Better she remain here. Hostility is in the air. Our reputation brought it upon us."

Gabriela randomly chimes with her left hand thrown skyward and has her eyes closed, "Plus, we're sexy as hell!"

The eight characters look at Gabriela while wielding a criticizing demeanor.

Following that, the Victress members go their separate ways to perform their respective jobs as Suta can be depicted at Virago's hatch with his left hand on the craft for leverage and portrays a devious smile prior to returning into Virago.

*Scene Change*

Eve's at the core of the Bridge with the others who are normally working there and witnesses numerous photographs of criminals gradually switch around on the huge monitor as she comments in anger, "Are these really the punks who live in this city?! They're nothing but two-bit thieves! None of 'em are worth our effort!"

Lita drives her attention towards Eve while demonstrating a firm behavior. "Remember what Doyenne usually says. It adds up, so no point in being picky."

The attractive Indian politely issues her own statement as she's leaning her posterior onto the radars she manages with her hands united in front of her lap. "After all, we were fortunate to profit from the Lacertas Doyenne battled. Their value far exceeded their actual capabilities. We may not always be so lucky."

Eve immediately commandeers her sight towards the pony-tailed beauty, her wrath significantly increasing. "What's that supposed to mean, Ruchika?! That if we fought somebody with a bounty of $5 million we wouldn't fair well!"

Ruchika shakes her head during the presentation of a solemn attitude. "Please, do not put words in my mouth, Eve. I am certain we are able to deal with targets of that level. We merely must avoid getting too ahead of ourselves."

Tessa joins the conversation, seeing Eve out of the corner of her eyes. "Yeah, like those Most Wanted criminals. They're infamous through multiple galaxies for the trouble they've caused and the fact there isn't much info on them."

Marie abruptly exclaims with enthusiasm. "Ay, pero we'd be living in complete luxury if we caught one of them! Each got a bounty over $1 billion! That's more than what the Galactic Government would fork over for the rulers of the Lacertas and Taurians!"

Lita delivers a scrutinizing glare at Marie. "Can you quit repeating junk you've spouted in the past? It assists no one and solely amps up Eve."

Zhi brings herself close to Lita's left ear and whispers with her left hand cupped around her lips, "Too late."

Lita promptly shifts her vision to Eve while worry consumes her, discovering the jacketed lady trembling with eagerness, as she hesitantly inquires, "Eve...?"

Eve hurriedly clutches his broadsword's hilt with her right hand as she harshly orders, "Display 'em!"

Lita slumps rearward and exhales from irritation, gazing towards the main screen, until repairing her constitution to comply with Eve while mumbling, "Here we go again."

With that, seven images fill the enormous monitor, although three of them are covered by black due to not possessing a picture of the subject.

Eve intricately scans the details pertaining to the criminals while reading out loud, striving to restrain her emotions, "The Mischievous Halfling of Columba: Colin." The female registers the image of a menacing, black-skinned creature resembling a dwarf as it's endowed in a barbaric outfit. Afterwards, Eve goes to the picture next to it and discerns a mature, Italian man with a navy blue suit and matching fedora as she maintains her speech going. "The Mafioso of the Syndicate: Whatley Greco." She navigates her concentration to the Caucasian male beneath Whatley while noting his youthful appearance as he's dressed in black clothing tightly pressed to his person with his face partially shadowed by a hood. "A True Villain: Valon Maximus."

Bored of Eve's procedure, Tessa interrupts her companion as she extends her left arm towards the silver-haired character. "Okay, enough. You're becoming obsessed, Eve."

Not permitting Eve the opportunity to retort, Marie whines with her hands slamming onto her desk and has her focus to Tessa. "Dios mio! She was at my favorite part though!" The Hispanic veers her attention to the massive screen as she fawns over the picture she was referencing. "The Hottie: Crest...!"

Everyone draw their sight to Marie while showing a dull conduct prior to Kelly uttering, "That's what you titled him as. I won't disagree, but please, hold back your fangirling."

Marie squeals with her head cocked rearward as she shuts her eyes and twists her being about. "Can't make any promises! He's just incredible!"

Eve scoffs and eventually says to herself in a low volume after dismounting her hand from her weapon to drop the limb, "Now that's obsession..." The tanned individual reverts her vision to the main monitor, keying onto the lifeless eyes of the fourth gentleman.

*Scene Cuts To Black*

To Be Continued...