As she overlooked the floor that contained the target apartment, Wraith wondered what the two novices that were investigating it hoped to discover. After all, the target had already been eliminated; only a fool would have considered dealing with the problem in such a confined space, especially with who the target was. Or, rather, who the target had been.<br/><br/>Though she tended to keep to herself, some bounties required collecting the payments in person, especially for larger payments. It would be unlikely that anyone could help overhearing the water-cooler talk of her vigilante â€˜colleaguesâ€™ when mulling about payment offices. In fact, Wraith had met the target before, Dragon, also jokingly known as â€˜Mister McFlamethrowerhandsâ€™ was no stranger to the vigilante scene, and had a rather mundane, but acceptable, number of successful operations. This was, of course, before he shifted from â€˜stopping crime with wrist-mounted flamethrowersâ€™ to â€˜responding to every conceivable interaction with wrist-mounted flamethrowersâ€™ a few weeks back. Heâ€™d managed to torch the inside of one bank, blow up one Bellgrove armory, and incinerate five different vigilantes, at least, that had each tried to ambush him and arrest him. After all, when one of their own went careening off the deep end, everyone tended to start wondering why.<br/><br/>Whereas the prospect of a potentially dizzying payment was usually enough to motivate a sizeable chunk of the kill-licensed vigilantes into a flurry of competitive action, Wraith tended to take her time, to investigate. Where most bounty jobs were assumed to be well past the stage where trying to investigate for evidence was unnecessary, working for PhotoU for so very long had taught her that taking the big three up on their information without some personal double-checking was oftentimes stupid. Any time things started to die down, someone finally flipped a lid and went on some killing spree either cackling like a demon or shouting defamations to any corporation they could think of.<br/><br/>Wraith shifted slightly and focused back down the scope of her rifle, watching the two inside poke around. The air in the apartment rippled somewhat as she watched them, a steady pattern. Realization hit her suddenly; a gas leak, probably from whatever the target sored the fuel for his flamethrowers in. She stood and looked around, trying to find a way to safely signal them, but as soon as she got to her feet a bright flash flooded her headâ€™s up display, before the sound hit her. A fireball blossomed out the side of the building and rolled up the sides before the automated suppression system kicked in. Wraith tried to blink the spots away from her vision but couldnâ€™t get them to clear away, but she was damn sure that whoever had been in there was certainly gone now. Crazy bastard and his fire always did stir up trouble.<br/><br/>She shook off the stun of the explosion some before starting off towards the nearest bounty depot, simply eager to get her payment and be done with it. It wasnâ€™t far, anyway, and by the time sheâ€™d closed the distance to the place, there were enough vigilantes around that watching the fire suppression droids zoom by standing on the landing pad to constitute a crowd. Her jump-pack lowered her slowly onto the platform into a parting crowd; she mostly hated her own fame, really. Sheâ€™d been quite effective as a vigilante, and gossip tended to spread like wildfire among her â€˜coworkersâ€™. Even as she worked through the crowd towards the payment clerk, she could hear all the murmurs and whispers, especially with the chaos off in the distance. The sirens were a roaring blur of sound as they zoomed past. Inside the Vigil project booth, the crowd was thinner, and her trek to the bounty desk was faster. The clerk was a familiar face; heâ€™d been a private in her division back in her old career. â€œJacobs.â€ She spoke lightly and clearly, the room growing somewhat quieter when she spoke. â€œBounty claim. Dragon, bullet to the temple.â€ She spoke, unclipping a small chip from behind her helmet. â€œTwo casualties, after the fact. Newbies walked in trying to get him, triggered a boobytrap. Iâ€™m sure you heard the sirens.â€<br/><br/>The clerk stared at her for a moment too long for her comfort. â€œWell, â€˜Wraithâ€™, youâ€™re known for being more than a bit cold. Word on the coms is that you set it off with a shot.â€<br/><br/>Wraith didnâ€™t even budge beyond holding up the chip. â€œI record all my jobs as a corporate sanctioned murderer, thank you.â€ She responded with quiet, frigid bite. â€œOff-network. The camera wonâ€™t show up on any network; itâ€™s isolated, canâ€™t be network accessed. And please, donâ€™t try to alter the damn video clip to throw me under the bus because some idiot on the corporate dollar doesnâ€™t want Dragonâ€™s gear being tied to any of the companies.â€ She added.<br/><br/>The clerk faltered just enough for her to feel a bit less uneasy in a roomful of armed people. â€œHey, just rumors. People talk in this business. Desk workâ€™s boring.â€ He backpedaled, taking the videochip. â€œDonâ€™t have to be so damn paranoid about it.â€<br/><br/>â€œI think the fact that youâ€™d suggest I murdered two new vigilantes is plenty of reason to be paranoid, Jacobs. Wire the money.â€ She nearly hissed, voice muffled behind her mask. Her heads up display reflected the substantial bounty, quickly ferreted away by a custom algorithm to keep the money off corporate radar for a bit. â€œThank you.â€ She added, voice even and firm as she turned and started down a nearby hallway. Her mouth was dry, throat feeling like it would rupture and spill her heart out onto the clean floors of the payment center.  Too close, she told herself. They were getting bolder; sheâ€™d been to obvious in her disdain for the corporate culture. At first, it had been excusable, given the accident sheâ€™d endured, but with time it became a source of alienation; no one wanted to believe that the companies that provided damn near everything on these ships were willing to do some of what she had accused.<br/><br/>Wraith fumbled awkwardly for a cup from a watercooler, filling the small plastic cup and taking a quick look around to be sure she was alone, sipping some from under the edge of her mask, easing her nervous throat. Her mask clicked back in place silently, and she leaned against the wall, steeling her beating heart.<br/><br/>Itâ€™d only be moments before some new bounties were posted anyway; she might as well calm down before taking a look.