Raka & Roll

Bagging a Treasure

Most days go completely the way Raka likes for them to go, but some days start off nicely and quickly careen in a direction that would sour anybody's mood. Today was one of those days much like later for Raka. Things were going well at the start, so well that Raka was unknowingly wearing a small smile as she went about her business. Then, it all went to hell in a handbasket, and now she was aggressively trying to straighten it back out.

You see, it would be an odd scene to anyone if they happened to glance down the alley as they passed by it. Currently, there is a large, hulky-looking man standing motionless at the end of the alley. He is facing the wall with his hands completely extended over his head in the air, as if he were standing on the tips of his toes, trying to get them even higher in the air. A petite woman is standing directly behind him, holding an object firmly in his back. There doesn't seem to be much action going on, but it is currently a very tense situation. The object the woman is holding against the guy's back happens to be a fully charged photon pistol set on blast, and the blast setting is not what you want a photon pistol to be set on as it's being firmly pressed against any part of your body. In fact, no one wants a photon pistol shoved in their back, no matter what its setting happens to be. It's just not a good day for anybody if that is the case.

"Just keep them up where I can see them," Raka said as she pressed the pistol directly into the guy's spine. It was probably safe to say this dude was not going to drop his hands any time soon. Raka had already produced a nice hole in the brick wall in front of him just an inch or two to the right of his hip, confirming the pistol was real, and that she had no reservations about using it.

"Who are you, and why are you following me?" Raka said in a rapid-fire succession, as she applied a little more pressure to the pistol, just in case the guy had forgotten it was there.

"Hey, hey ease up on that pistol honey, and maybe we can talk. It doesn't have a hair trigger, does it?" The guy said jokingly, followed by a quick, slightly nervous laugh.

"There's no hair trigger on the pistol, but I have a very short fuse, and with every second you jerk me around, it gets even shorter, and don't call me honey. I am in no way that sweet. I'm asking you again, dude, who are you?"

"Trey Iben," the guy said quickly, cutting Raka off before she could finish the last of what she was saying. He thought it was far more prudent to go ahead and provide his identity, instead of being courteous and letting her finish.

"Look, Trey Iben, I know you have been following me for a couple of days now, and by the way, you really do suck at trailing somebody, you know. You're like a drunk elephant, lumbering around, trying not to be noticed. It was all quite comical, actually. You're lucky I didn't just waste you straight away on the first day I caught notice of you." Raka said as she jabbed the pistol even more firmly into his back. She hadn't complied with his request to ease up on the pistol.

"Ha, ha, straight away," Trey stuttered and laughed nervously. "Well, you don't need to go and cook anyone."

"Then who exactly are you, Trey?" Raka said a bit more sternly than when she asked previously, "You know what I mean, not just your name."

"I, I work for Clyde, Clyde White. You, you know Clyde."

"Yeah, of course I know Clyde. I should have known." Raka shook her head slowly side to side.

"Why does he have you trailing me?" Raka asked sarcastically. She knew exactly why Clyde had Trey following her, but she wanted to hear him say it, so she could toy with him a little bit longer. She had him, had the upper hand on him, and he knew she had him. Raka has a reputation of being congenial most of the time, but she has blasted a couple of people in the past without much provocation for what might have seemed less substantial than just following someone around.