The window shade rolls upwards and I awake to the sound of grinding gears and the depressing sight of an undersized pod bathed in flickering neon lights.

I groan and roll onto my other side, reaching out across the narrow bed and groping at the sheets. The mattress below me shifts slightly and I ease an eye open, pushing the hair from my face.

Casper is sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over as he pulls on his boots.

"Don't sneak off on my account." I say, my voice still thick with sleep.

He glances up, quirking a grin as he takes in my rumpled appearance. "Sneak? I've been stomping around this pod for the better part of an hour. I wasn't sure if you were sleeping or dead."

"And you didn't think to check?"

"It didn't seem terribly important. You were a titillating sight, either way." He squeezes my leg and laughs when I squirm and kick out at him.

"You're disgusting." I flip my pillow over to the cool side and punch it into submission, stuffing it back beneath my head.

"Only when I'm off the clock, darling." Casper laughs in that annoyingly self-assured way as he rises and moves towards the water-spotted mirror at the far end of the pod.

I watch disinterestedly while he stoops and fusses with his hair. If I were just another one of Casper's empty-headed conquests I might be jealous of the attention he lavishes upon his own reflection. Instead, I simply roll my eyes at the predictable display.

"You had better get dressed." He calls out, his eyes not leaving the mirror.

"Why? I don't have anywhere to be." If Casper is just beginning to style his hair then I may be able to steal another hour's worth of sleep.

"The Priestess is expecting to meet you this afternoon." He says, as though the matter were already settled.

I sit up. "Excuse me? I didn't agree to any meetings."

"Come on, Trig." He spins around and crosses his arms. "You're not seriously going to turn this job down."

"I just might." I shoot back. "And you've got a lot of nerve, going behind my back and setting this whole thing up."

"I'm paid to know what's best for everyone." The joking tone in his voice just pisses me off more.

"That might play with those narrow-minded planets, but not with me." My bionic eye flashes a warning as I glare at him. "I don't need your dictator's job and I won't be taking it."

Instead of arguing with me, Casper simply gives an exasperated shake of his head. "Stop being so needlessly stubborn, Trig. This isn't charity, you know. If you put that metal head of yours to work then you might realize that we both stand to gain something, here."

That nearly makes sense. "Why, what are you getting out of it?"

"If you pull this off then I'll be remembered," He pauses, a dreamy little smirk pulling at his lips. "And ideally, rewarded, for having recommended you." He extends an arm and tugs daintily on his starched cuff. "The High Priestess is known to be generous."

I sink back against the pillows, rubbing my eyes with my palms. "Cripes, Casper, you're completely brainwashed. Do you have any thoughts of your own, anymore?"

"Plenty." He responds evenly. "I've used them to catch myself a cushy job with great earning potential."

I laugh, looking back at him and shaking my head. "You are such scum, honestly."

"Says the girl who kills people for a living." He tilts his head, staying the course. "So, how about it?"

I stall for time, fiddling with the knobs on my arm. "I just don't understand why you have to trouble me with this nonsense. The galaxy is full of money-hungry murderers, any one of them would be happy to take the hit."

"But you're the best." He crosses the pod in a single stride and sinks down onto the bed next to me. "Why are you putting up such a fight over this? What do you care who you work for?"

"I don't." I fire back. "I just... I haven't made myself too popular, lately. It feels like the wrong time to be putting myself front and center before the infamous Priestess Mira, you know?" My ribs still ache from last night's tussle with Murphy and his goons.

Casper pulls playfully on the sheet I'm holding against my chest and I swat him away.

"Stop being so dramatic, Trig." He mocks, rubbing his hand where I struck him. "Look, if you don't want the job, you don't have to take it. No one's going to force you." He tugs on the sheet, again. "I'm simply suggesting that you take the meeting and hear what Mira has to say. Maybe you'll finally see for yourself that she isn't some overzealous dictator."

"I doubt it." I scoff. I stop playing with my arm and glance up at Casper. Immaculately coifed and clean-shaven, he captures the glow filtering in through the window and alights magnificently. I might think him beautiful if it weren't for the fact that my opinion would feed into his already over-inflated ego.

"Fine." I relent, blowing a puff of air between the gaps of my teeth. "I'll go with you to meet her but I'm not promising anything."

He claps his hands and throws an arm around my neck, finally succeeding in pulling the bedsheet free from my grip. "Thatta girl, I knew you'd come around."

I laugh, my voice muffled by his chest. "You know that it kills me to let you get your way."

"You so rarely forfeit." He holds my cheeks between his hands and kisses me soundly on the mouth. "Now, get some pants on. We have a ship to catch."

* * * * *

Our commuter ship docks with the the space station, pulling into the loading bay and settling with a heavy sigh into decompression mode. I follow Casper down the bridge and through the airlock, keeping my expression impassive while my comm feeds me a million new pieces of information.

The headquarters of Unity, High Priestess Mira's borderline-terrorist organization is impressive, to say the least. The passageways glint silver and the lights hum with barely a flicker. Crewmembers stroll purposefully between cabins, clad in flowing robes or starchly pressed suits like Casper's. Each crewmember has the same red and silver insignia stitched prominently to their shoulders. I study the text scrolling across my vision as we walk, reading about Unity's ranking system. I learn that the formal robes classify their wearers as higher-earning officials called 'shepherds'. When I glance to the side I catch Casper staring enviously at the elaborate robes and begin to better understand his eagerness in using me to impress the Priestess.

We reach the end of the hallway and Casper ushers me into a lift, standing aside and straightening his shoulders as several shepherds flood into compartment around us. I ignore the curious glances being thrown in my direction, distracting myself with the new pieces of data fed to me by my comm. My face-recognition software tells me that the tall, stately shepherd to my right is a former pirate and that his blue-skinned buddy spent time in detention for fraud. Fine, upstanding bunch this Priestess Mira surrounds herself with.

The lift dings softly and we disembark. Gilded patterns trace the arc above my head and draw my eyes towards the hatch door standing open at the end of a long corridor. The shepherds veer off in another direction while Casper and I head towards the hatch. The tunnel is ominously silent and I don't need my cybernetics to tell me that Casper's temperature and heartbeat are irregular, his ridiculous posture and frantic hair adjustments say it all.

We step through the hatch door to find a room dominated by the longest reception desk I have ever laid eyes on. The administrator looks up at our approach, offering a welcoming smile while simultaneously operating the massive switchboard behind her. I quickly lose count of how many arms she possesses but each one is hard at work manning some station. The sight of many graceful tentacles flying across the desk and switchboard gives the barren room a strangely elegant atmosphere.

"Casper!" The administrator trills his name, not pausing a beat in her many other tasks.

"Hey there, beautiful." Casper flashes her his most devilish grin and leans across the desk. "Is that a new shade of lipstick?"

She giggles, a high colour rising to her cheeks. "Oh, stop. Who's your friend?"

I purposely use my bionic arm to give her a tight wave, keeping my face expressionless.

"This is my associate, Trigger Athari." Casper's grin widens. "I believe we have an appointment?"

"Yes, of course." She extends one of her tentacles towards the far end of the desk and flicks a switch. "You can go right in, she's been waiting for you."

"Brilliant." Casper turns back to me. "Are you ready?"

"Sure." I stride past him. "By the way, you've got a hair out of place."

There is a frantic shuffling and a string of angry curses before Casper scurries to catch up with me. The grin slips from my lips when I look up and realize that now, all that is standing between myself and the infamous High Priestess Mira is a single glass door. The panels swish open and as we step across the threshold I can't help but wonder how easy it would be to get here under less-official circumstances.

The lights above our head flick on, illuminating our path towards the chamber at the far end of the artfully-decorated tunnel. I stroll alongside Casper, studying the patterns etched into the gold-plated walls. A quiet melody plays from somewhere up ahead, echoing eerily through the tunnel and drawing us into its depths.

The ground beneath my feet grows soft as I step onto carpet and a barely-discernable perfume wafts past my nose. My comm fights to categorize all of the new data within Mira's personal chambers but continually returns a pulsing red ERROR message. Mira has outfitted the room with sensory deprivators.

I am still struggling with the sudden jolt of relying on my human senses when a soft voice rises over the music.

"Please, sit."

Casper wraps my arm in an ice-cold grip and tugs me down onto the plush bench beside him. I blink, forcing my eyes to adjust to the strange, hazy chamber and its surreal ambient melody. Gradually, I realize that someone is sitting with their back to us, their posture ramrod-straight while their hands fly across the keys of the colossal pipe organ before them. Priestess Mira sways a little with the tune, apparently lost in her own music. I find myself captivated with the way the light catches in her silvered robe, watching dumbly as I become awash with the strangeness of everything.

Mira completes her forte with a twinkling flourish, her fingers dancing over the final keys. The echoes of the dying notes hang above us like a cloud, contributing solemnly to the fuzzy atmosphere.

"I must beg your forgiveness for my distraction." Mira speaks to us without turning her head, her voice quiet but all-encompassing. "There has been much on my mind, lately and I find that playing music helps me to relax."

"It's fine." I hear myself say.

There is a gentle creaking as Mira spins to face us.

Her robe glints with a million crystalline details and falls in countless layers. It isn't until she tilts her head, seemingly regarding me that I notice her bionics.

High Priestess Mira is a cyborg.

She appears entirely human save for her face, which is obscured by a shiny metal helmet. The armoured faceplate is smooth and faultless, the only indentation being a narrow slit where her eyes should be. Chrome plating wraps around the entirety of her head, the reflective material glinting in the low light.

A combination of shock and fascination renders me speechless. Our perpetual status as outcasts makes it extremely rare to come across another cyborg. I have spent nearly half of my life relegated to the shadows and now I find a fellow half-breed leading Unity - one of the universe's most powerful and most feared organizations.

"Welcome." The eerie distance of her voice matches her impassive mask. "It's Miss Athari, isn't it?"

"Trigger." I correct her. "Nice to meet you."

"Pleasure." Her eye slit flashes cheerily. "I've heard a great deal about you."

"Likewise."

It isn't until Casper shifts next to me that I remember his presence. Somehow, Mira had become the only other person in the room.

"High Priestess." Casper's voice is shriller than usual and he coughs to clear his throat. "I just wanted to express my gratitude at your agreeing to see us. Trigger is a close, personal friend of mine and I can personally vouch for her thoroughness as well as-"

Mira raises a hand and Casper snaps his mouth shut. She turns her head in his general direction but the helmet prevents him from gaining her full attention. I can see him practically vibrating with anticipation for her response.

"Thank you, Casper." She lowers her hand gracefully. "I wonder if you would leave us? I wish to speak with Trigger, privately."

I almost laugh aloud, knowing how annoyed Casper must feel. He colours but rises dutifully to his feet, sweeping an exaggerated bow and marching off back down the corridor.

Mira waits for the sound of retreating footsteps to cease before addressing me. "Tell me, Trigger. What do you know of our organization?"

She's referring to Unity and the bullying tactics she and the shepherds use to strong-arm planets into following her. I imagine she charges the weak-willed congregation a hefty fee in exchange for accepting the burden of their immortal souls.

I choose my words carefully, mindful of the fact that several floors of thick, corrugated steel stand between myself and the hangar. "I know that you've been extremely successful campaigners."

Her faceplate flashes again. "And what campaign is that?"

I fight the urge to fiddle with my arm's control panel. "What you preach isn't my business. I don't meddle in people's affairs, I put an end to them."

She inclines her head. "Well said."

I catch another whiff of perfumed air as she rises from her seat and moves to the window. Star-spotted sky twinkles back at us, feeding into the haze of the gilded chamber. My attention begins to wane as I grow increasingly aware of how comfortable the bench is below me.

Focus, Trigger. Now isn't the time to get sloppy. This room and its sensory-deprivating technology has thrown me off my game.

If Mira notices my struggle she doesn't let on. "I can appreciate such thinking." She drums long fingers against her metal chin. "It must be easier to do your job if you don't involve yourself in the ugliness of our squabbles."

"More or less."

"If you would humour me, however, I think that you could benefit from understanding what I am trying to accomplish." Mira's helmet captures the reflection of the stars. It is impossible to read her lack of expression but it appears that she is waiting for my permission to continue. This style of negotiation catches me off-guard; usually a perspective client prefers to lay out as little information as possible before sending me off to do the dirty work. Mira's conversational tactic is disarming and I find myself relaxing, slightly.

"Go on." I invite her.

"Our philosophy is very simple, Trigger. Unity breeds satisfaction." Mira's hands slip into the folds of her robes as she begins pacing slowly across the floor before me. "We provide shelter, guidance and if needed, protection for the lost lambs of the galaxy. We pride ourselves on our inclusivity; there are no outcasts, no undesirables within Unity. Everyone is welcome so long as they can open their minds enough to invite our guidance and hear our message."

I have to admit, it's a pretty good pitch. I try to imagine Casper spouting similar rhetoric but as charming as he is, his words cannot be half as effective as Mira's.

"So, what happens when a planet declines such a generous proposition?" I lean back in my seat, crossing my arms and extending my legs.

Her visor blinks. "That's where you come in."

I smirk. "Hard to misinterpret that kind of message."

"I don't wish to conduct my teachings through force, Trigger. I prefer our members to find their own way to us." She pauses. "That said, there can be no connection between myself and any unfortunate accident that might happen to befall the president of the planet Krygo." Mira ceases her pacing and turns to look at me fully. "I am sure that you understand my meaning."

There it is: the point of no return. Now that Mira's given up her target, I have entered into the choice of either accepting the contract or fighting my way off this space station.

What else did I expect when I let Casper talk me into this? My ever-analytical makeup tells me that Mira's offer will be good for more than just money. The challenge - not to mention the bragging rights- that goes along with offing a high-profile president is too good to pass up. Just the thought causes my bionics to hum with anticipation.

Mira glances down at my robotic arm. Slowly, she moves back towards the organ and lowers herself into a seated position.

"I assume that you have guessed why I wanted you, specifically for this job." She says as she gracefully rearranges the folds of her robe.

I nod, taking my time in answering. "I didn't realize, before that you're a cyborg as well."

I think that I catch her flinching at the word but she quickly composes herself.

"I don't find my condition to be a pertinent detail in what I am trying to accomplish." Her soft voice has risen, slightly. "But I cannot deny that my software has given me certain...advantages."

I re-cross my arms to keep from fiddling with my own bionics.

"It's the same for you isn't it, Trigger?" She continues. "I'm sure you've been told before that your enhancements are freakish. You've been made to feel less than, simply because people don't understand you."

I stiffen at her words. Suddenly, the perfumed atmosphere no longer feels warm and comforting, instead it presses heavily against my chest.

"What's your point?" My hands curl into fists while I fight to keep my voice steady.

"My point is that I know better, Trigger. Your bionics don't cheapen you, they improve you. People like you and I don't rely on the pettiness of emotion. We have the ability to go beyond the limits of people's understanding." Mira leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees while her flashing eyes level with mine. "I know that I can entrust you with this because you and I are one in the same. We had to fight to earn our place in this universe and now we don't just welcome a challenge, we thrive on it."

I wait a beat, studying Mira intently while bouncing my foot up and down. "My services don't come cheap."

"Naturally." She says, pleasantly. "I am prepared to offer you twenty thousand credits."

My fidgeting stops abruptly.

Mira takes my stunned silence as license to continue. "Ten thousand now and ten thousand once the job is complete."

I shake my head in an effort to sort through the whirlwind of new possibilities. "This guy must be a real nuisance."

"If you are as good as I'm told, then President Phibbius will be nothing more than a minor footnote."

I blow a puff of air between my teeth, considering Mira. I contemplate her expensive robes and pipe organ, her legions of followers and most importantly, the thinly-veiled threat holding dominion over this entire conversation.

"Thirty thousand credits." I say. "Plus expenses."

"Deal." Her helmet flashes a cheery blue. "I will have Casper handle the details. Thank you, Trigger. I look forward to doing business together."

"Likewise." I lie, accepting Mira's extended hand and shaking firmly.

And just like that, some poor sap's number is up. In a couple of days he'll be dead and I'll be thirty thousand credits richer.

Thirty thousand credits I can put towards my very own ship.

Thirty thousand credits closer to kissing this good-for-nothing galaxy goodbye, forever.