<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/ETeiWQ5.jpg)</div>Fog in the shower...<br/><br/><hr/><br/>It was foggy too that fateful day of the Drow Riots. A steam pipe had burst along the Agellesian delegation's evacuation route, and the air was unusually warm and laden with humidity. Merely to breathe felt like choking down water, and the residual tear gas in the air didn't help matters any. The fog made it near impossible to see further than a few feet ahead, and the angry shouting and chanting of the much too close for comfort mob did the same for sound.<br/><br/>Something happened, a few shots rang out - muffled pops compared to the background noise of the crowd - and then the mob surged forward. The security detail was brushed aside by sheer numbers and then hateful hands were reaching for the Agellesians, for Nazoli...<br/><br/>...someone had tossed a hooded cloak over her head from behind and grabbed her firmly by the arm. "Don't resist, I'm helping you get out of here," A forceful but feminine voice had whispered into her ear as she was dragged off. When they finally stopped and she had a chance to adjust the cloak to see out of the hood, she found herself in a quieter side passage alone with her unlikely rescuer. Or perhaps it was too early to call the purple-haired elf a rescuer, because she had a pistol to Nazoli's stomach.<br/><br/>What followed was a bunch of questions about the "Drow" - as far as Nazoli could tell back then, a native race that bore too many resemblances to her own - that she had no clue what the questions were about, much less being able to answer them. Her confusion must have been apparent because finally the elf gave up. "I guess you really aren't a drow."<br/><br/>The elf - Astrae - had led Nazoli away from the riots and to safety through side tunnels. The rescuer turned kidnapper turned savior now turned roommate let Nazoli crash at her place while the riots died down, and in their aftermath when even the possibility of any Agellesian survivors was denied and it was apparent there was no going home, their living arrangement stabilized with Nazoli sharing Astrae's one-room apartment and being responsible for half the rent. "I'm not doing this out of guilt or anything," Astrae had insisted, "But you need a cheap place to stay and I need a roommate to cover half the rent."<br/><br/><hr/><br/>All of which led up to now. Nazoli checked her credstick and discovered that her latest client had left her a tip-less measly 5 credits and a one-star review. "No technique and fake orgasm, might as well stick to porno holos instead 1/5".<br/><br/>The door opened and Astrae returned, the faint smell of spent propellant and dried blood hanging about her as it often did. She sniffed and frowned in disdain. "I told you before not to take clients home." She sat down on her bed on her half of the room and kicked off her boots with a sigh. "Bad news, our - my teams' - latest client stiffed us over. We're gonna find the flaccid wanker and beat the creds out of him if we have to, but that's gonna take a couple days at best." Nazoli knew that Astrae worked as a freelance mercenary, but on further details about her missions the elf had always been mum.<br/><br/>And now, the bomb. "Can you cover the whole rent for day after tomorrow - I'll pay you my half back, of course, once I get my own payment."