Daren walked down the dark street at around 1:30 in the morning.  He had slept all day without meaning to, though he thought he deserved it.  The Alias had only backed off and stopped chasing him, once he entered Saturn's orbit.  They knew where he was headed, and they knew that they weren't welcome there.  He had landed in Parasphalia, the largest docking port in Blue Haven, at 6:30 am after a long, tiring, and rather gruesome escape from the third moon of Uranus.  He thought that he could've laid low with his childhood friend, Carly, there for a while, but the Alias proved, once again, harder to shake than anticipated.  Carly was a good girl.  She always had been, and as many times as Daren refused help from her, she always found away to 'convince' him otherwise. He didn't want to get her into trouble for housing him; but she would always contact him as soon as she saw his face on tv again.  The Alias found him within 2 hours of docking at Carly's.  The chase that ensued got 12 of their agents killed, about 6 of them from Daren himself.  The bastards were pretty determined, and wouldn't let him rest.

Daren lit a cigarette, and sucked on it as he went down the street.  He was finally able to relax for the first time in three months, and not have to worry about any agents that may be following him.  But, old habits die hard, and he caught himsef looking over his shoulder more than once as he sauntered aimlessly around Blue Haven.  He stopped and stared at a puddle on the cement, catching a glimpse of his golden eyes.  He took a final drag on his cigarette, and shot it into the tiny pool; nailing his reflection right in the eye.  It sizzled for a split second before fizzling out, making him grin slightly at his impeccable aim.  The butt finally floated away, leaving him, once again, to stare at the reflection of his eyes; the only reason his life sucked so bad.  Well, that, and maybe the fact that he had taken a few, slightly expensive spacecraft parts off of the Alias' hands.  But that had still yet to be proven, (unless you opened up his ship), and they deserved it anyway.  What did they need with a trans-orbital inducer?  Or two?  And a Nubian spanner?  He chuckled to himself as he dwelled on a few of the more impressive things he's 'borrowed' from the Alias, and then proceeded to kick the water on the pavement.

"Ok..." he said to himself, re-adjusting his jacket, "now...what the hell was I doing?"  He questioned to no one inparticular, looking up from the dispatched puddle, and down the street.  "Oh right!" He stated triumphantly, pointing his finger into the air, "to Maxamillion's!"

Max's was an old-style tavern and pub from the 3000's and Daren loved it there.  It had been previously owned by Max's great grandfather, which in turn, his grandfather took on, and so on, and so forth.  He could spend hours in the old place, chating with Max and Cecilia, one of the waitresses at the tavern.  The only one who didn't look away in disgust when she saw his eyes.  Max was an older gentleman who could handle a sawed-off shotgun pretty well, and he needs to, having a tavern in Blue Haven and all.  It was alwyas interesting when he had to use it, Daren got quie a kick out of it.

HE turned the corner on to 45th street, and saw the red lights of Max's.  He walked up to the door and burst through it, arms spread out wide, "HEY MAXAMILLION!!"  He screamed with his head turned up toward the celieng.

"Aw, hell..." He heard Max say from behind the bar.  Daren walked into the pub, his coat swooping the floor behind him.  He got quite a few stares from people in the bar, as well as working for it, except of course, from Cecelia.

"Hay baby!"  she called from a corner.  She had a little twang to her voice, though he never could quite tell what the accent was.  "Haven't seen you 'round fer a while! Thought you'd get inta trouble WAY earlier n' this!"  She turned around to give one of the men at the table by the stage a drink of dark amber liquid with no ice.  Daren never liked people who didn't get ice in thier drinks.  They were always too serious, never had any fun.  You couldn't trust them either, they were always disloyal.  He plopped himself down on one of the bar stools, in front of Max and spread his arms out wide, as if expecting an embrace.

"Hey Maxi-pad!  Did cha miss me??" Daren asked sarcastically, cocking his head.  Max leaned over the counter with a rag in one hand and gave him a look of utter unamusement.

"What the hell did you do??" he asked.  Oh yea, Max also has a bit of a personality disorder...called 'grump syndrome'.  It was terrible really. A real shame.

"What?!"  Daren answered back.  "Come on now Maxi!!!  Is that any way to greet an old friend?  Cece already welcomed me with a smile..."  just at that moment, Cecelia bound up behind Daren and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a friendly peck on the cheek.  He pointed over his shoulder, "...and with open arms!"  Daren finished.

"You're all over the friken' news!"  Max said, pointing to the tv; which had an eerily familiar picture on it.  Daren's small ship being pursued by about 7 GP patrol pods, through the 5th sector of Grid A.  He winced slowly and turned back to Max.

"Well..." Max said.  "I'm waiting for one of you're lame-ass excuses!"

"Oh, come on Max!" Cece whined.  "You know they're after 'is butt, they've been after it since day one!  He dunnit have a choice an' you know that!"

"Yea, come on Max!" Daren said with a mused grin on his face.  "They've been after my cute little butt since day one!"

"You are amazing, truly amazing...you are so unbelieveably tacticle, and good at infiltration; yet you can't find a better way to give the Alias the slip then flying around balls out, and guns blaring while the entire grid watches??"

Daren shrugged his shoulders, and put his hands in the air.  "What can I say?  I like theatrics."  He placed his hands behind his head, and leaned back slightly, stretching out his back.  "Besides, what is this? A tavern or a confessional?"

"Hey sweetheart! Bring me anotta one!" A grimy, sweaty man at the stage table yelled at Cece while shaking his empty glass discriminatly.

Daren looked over his shoulder at the man, and shook his head as he heard Cece sigh. "If you want, I could take him out for ya." he said.  She giggled a little without looking at him.  "It really wouldn't be that hard." he stated.

"HEY." Max said, pointing a finger straight at Daren's face.  "I don't feel like kicking people out of here at your expense! I know I can't kick you out, so I'll have to kick them out, and it'll cause a huge raucous, and then I'll have to pull out the gun, and I'm not dealing with it tonight!"

Daren put his hands up and leaned away from the bar.  "Hey, no need to get snippy there ol' buddy, ol' pal."

"Oh, don't you 'ol' pal' me." Max said.  "You knock that off RIGHT now."

"Hey pretty boy!"  The man at the stage table yelled, "stop hoggin' the broad, and let her get me my drink!"

"Oh yea." Daren stated with a fineality to his tone. "He's dead."  He pulled his gun out of his pants, and only took one step before Cece stopped him.

"Knock it off, Daren..."  She said, puttig a hand on his chest.  "He's drunk, back off, k hun?"

"Pretty boy??" Daren asked her.

"I know hunny." she said without looking up from making his drink.

"I'll show him pretty boy...I'm prettier when my gun's in your mouth..."  Daren continued to mutter, to no one inparticular.

"I know baby, but 'e's a slut, let 'im be a slut on 'is own."  She picked up his refill, from the bar, and began to walk over.  She looked back over her shoulder at Daren, who had not sat back down yet.  She glared at him and pointed back at the barstool.  He turned around while rolling his eyes, but obeyed and sat back down.  He watched the entire exchange though to make sure the nasty little man didn't try anything stupid, and welcomed Cece back, expecting yet another hug.

"Need a hug Cec?"

"Awww..." she sighed wistfully, "that's so sweet! 'e thinks I need consolation Max!"  she said with a giggle.

"Ah!"  Daren said, flopping his arms down theatrically, pretending to be hurt.  "That hurts Cec..." he put his hand over his heart, and patted it.  "Right here."

She laughed, and patted his shoulder, "I think you'll be ok."  Then she walked off to check on her other tables.

"You're gonna cause me problems tonight, aren't you ya' little effer?"  Max said while watching Cece leave.

"Oh, you know you missed me!" Daren said confidently.

"Yea, I'm sure that's it."  Max said with a laugh.  "Although, I must admit...things are alot more interesting with you around."  He looked at Daren and smiled.

"Ha! I knew it!" Daren said, slapping the bar top.  "Give me a hug, you old coot."  He said, spreading his arms.  Max just shook his head, and turned to wash out some glasses.  Daren dropped his arms, and eyed him.  "I'll get a hug out of you yet..."  he said boisterously.

"Mmm-hmm." Max said with disbelief.

"Hey..." The voice came from behind Daren, it sounded agitated, and drunk.  And it smelled...bad.  Slowly he turned around to come face to face with the nasty dude from the stage table.

"Oh." Daren said, sounding sarcastically sincere.  "To what do I owe this...er...lovely? Can I use the word lovely? Visit?"  Then he wrinkled his nose unpleasently.

The man prodded him in the shoulder, "you ooowwwwweeee this loverly visit to the ffffact that...eeerr..oooo"  The man wavered slightly.  Daren just raised his eyebrows, and started to spin around in the swivel stool, staring at the ceiling.  "You owe this visit to the fact that you kep hoggin' the waitress!"  He yelled, stopping Daren's stool dead, then getting right in his face, and pointing his finger at his forehead.

Daren gave the man a confused look, raiding his right eyebrow even further. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, ya ninny."   He said, wavering once again.  Daren stood up from the barstool, leaned hin slightly and looked at him out of the corner of his eyes.  "Did you just say 'ninny'?"

"Don't you try and go to try and change the subject..." he slurred. 

Daren's head snapped back to center, and he lowered his eyebrows.  "Ok, fine.  I won't change the subject then."

"I'm gonna kick your aaassssss..." the smelly dude said, then, as if in slow motion, he fell over onto Daren's chest.

"Ahhh...damn..." Daren caught him, just as Max turned around.

"Oh, hey there Daren, you want a room?"  Max asked with a chuckle.

"Oh, yea.  Very funny."  Daren said, letting go of him and dropping him to the floor with a thud.

"Uuuuuuhhhhhh..."  The man groaned, laying on his stomach.  Just then, Cece walked up.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as she tripped over him, stumbling on her tall heels.  She fell over, and Daren caught her.  "What happened here?"  Then she looked into his face, disbelieving.  "Oh no, Daren...ya' didn'?"

"Oh come one Cec!  He's drunker then Max gets on Thursday bowling!"  Daren said with a laugh, as she picked herself up off of his lap, and brushed herself off.

When Daren first came to Max's, it was a Thursday.  The three of them hit it off right away, and they decided to go bowling.  Now, every Thursday that he ended up in Blue Haven, they went bowling.  And Max took the opportunity to get drunker then a skunk every time it happened.  He may be a grump normally, but get him drunk, and he'll talk your ear off; and excessively use the word 'hey'.  It made Daren laugh hysterically every time he did it.  He wasn't suave anyway, but when he was drunk, he was even less so.

"Hey!  That only happened once, and you know it!"  Max said defensively.

"Oh, you're just gitten' upset 'cause you know it's true."  Cece said, smoothing out her skirt. 

Max frowned, then pointed to the mess on the floor.  "Alright Daren...you pissed him off, you get him out."  He said.

"Aw, you're just LOVING this aren't cha?"  Daren said. 

Just then, five men in black space suits threw open the doors and began to open fire on the entire bar.  Cece screamed, and crouched down.  Daren threw himself over her, and whipped out his gun.  While clutching Cece with one arm; his other arm made one fluid motion, firing three quick, consecutive shots. As abruptly as it started, the firing ceased, and the dust  settled; revealing three dead suits, and two silent ones.  Daren let Cece scoot away from him, and he slowly stood up while lowering his gun, glaring at the remaining two men.

Without missing a beat, the suit on the right siad, "Daren Windrow?"

Daren looked around the bar; he was the only one standing, he couldn't fake it, and point ot the drunk dude on the floor, which is what he would normally do in this situation.  He had no shame, and he was ok with that.  "Maybe, who wants to know?"  He asked.

The man smiled.  "You know who wants to know."  he said with a smirk.  Daren's eyes widened.

"REALLY?"  he said.  "The Alias is putting on thier big boy pants, and following their bounties into Blue Haven now?"  At that statement, a few other men, (who all had ice in thier drinks, Daren noticed), stood up and drew pistols.

The suit on the left smiled a wide, sickly smile.  "You can't claim sanctuary in Blue Haven anymore 'yang eyes'...we've got ya' now..."

Internally, Daren winced.  He hated it when people used the slang term to describe his most hated feature.  It only drew attention to them.  But on the outside, all he did was smile the best punk smile he could muster, to compliment the suit's insult.  "Is that so?"  Daren said, cocking his head to the side, and raising his gun to the two men at the door.  Simultaneously, all the men standing too a step forward, ready to back Daren at the drop of a hat.

"Daren!!"  He heard Cece scream from behind the bar, "don't you dare start sumthin that's gonna git you.....AHHH!"  Her high-pitched squeal echoed out as the suit on the left fired his gun at the mirror over the bar, sending a rain of broken glass onto Cece and Max, who were still crouching behind it.

Daren's gun rang out once, but neither of the suits went down.  Instead, there was a hole, not an inch away from the head on the suit on the left.  Daren had buried one warning round into the wall.  "Tsk, tsk..." he clicked his tongue.  "Is that any way to treat a lady?"  he asked cockily.

"Oh, can it u rebel scum, you're next!"  the suit rebuddled, re-directing his gun at Daren's head.

Daren raised his eyebrow. "Rebel scum?" He made a confused face, and scratched his temple with the barrel of his gun.  "No...that's not right." he said with a shake of his head. "Am I really a rebel? I don't think that's the right term..."

"What?" the suit on the left said.  "What are you rambling about?"  The suit asked over Daren's incoherent mumblings about how he was more of a nusance then a rebel.

"Don't engage him." The suit on the right stated, very shortly, and very professionally.

Daren's eyes flicked up to the suits from thier spot on the floor.  He lowered the gun to his side.  "Oooohhhhhh...." he drawled.  "So," Daren said to the suit on the left, "what did ya' do to get stuck with him?"  Daren gestured to his partner.  Then he directed his vision toward the suit on the right, "Or are you the only agent who was stupid enough to apply for this suicide mission?"

"Oh...you son of a...." the suit on the left started, and then abruptly, his finger moved, ever so slightly; and a shot rang out.

Daren dropped to the floor, his coat swirling around him.  The round hit the wall on the other side of the room, shattering a few glasses as it went.  Suddenly, millions of shots were heard.  Muzzle flashes lit up the room like a strobe light; and tables were thrown sideways, being used as make-shift walls.  Daren stayed put on the floor, his arm up over his head, using his coat as a shield against shattering glasses, and flying wood splinters.

"What the hell do these novices think they are doing?"  Daren thought. They were hitting nothing but air, and they would probably be dead before the smoke cleared. Slowly, the gunshots became further, and further apart; the disembodied voices becoming less frequent until only one rang out, and then; silence.  The dust settled, revealing 12 dead men, sporadically laying cross the floor.  The suits stood in thier place by the door, back to back, guns lowered to about thier waists, but still poised.  Daren stood, and looked around the place.  "Sheesh..." he mumbled, then scratched his head.  "Hey Max, there's definetly a mess to clean up in here buddy..."

"DAREN! You asshole!"  He heard Max's voice from behind the bar.

"SHUT UP!"  The suit on the left screamed.  "What is wrong with you?? Do you have any idea what kind of a situation you've found yourself in??"

Daren's plan was working perfectly; well...it HAD been.  The one suit at least, was losing his cool.   A massacre hadn't exactly been in the blue prints, but Daren couldn't do anything about that now.  Now, he just wanted to guarentee Cece and Max's safety.  "Whaddya mean?" He said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Are you insane??" the suit on the left sputtered.  "This is ridiculous! Can't we just kill him?!"

"No." The suit on the right said flatly.  "He needs to be delivered alive." 

It was clear that this one had been at this far longer then the other suit had.  If BOTH suits had been like this one, Daren would've had his work cut out for him.

"AW... how sweet." Daren said, hugging himself. "You have to 'deliver' me alive."  He shook his gun at the suit on the left. "Oh well...no fun for you, sir."  He re-directed his gaze to the suit on the right.  "You're my hero..."

The suit on the left snapped. "ENOUGH!"  he screamed, and fired his gun at Daren's chest.

"NO!" the suit on the right yelled, knocking his partner's gun out of his grasp, sending the gun skidding across the floor.  He looked up in a panic, only to realize that Daren had produced an energy shield.  His hand was outstretched in front of him, the tell-tale green glow covering his torso.  The shell casing was on the floor in front of him, crunched, and smoking.

"Hastey..." Daren said quietly and menacingly.  "Very hastey."  In one, fluid motion, he dropped the energy shield, and fired a quick shot, dropping the suit on the left.  Without lowering his gun, he turned his attention to the suit on the right, who never took his eyes off of Daren.

"You're good." Daren said with a tip of his head. 

"So are you."  He responded.

"You want your gun?"  Daren asked.  The survivors of the fire fight were looking out from thier hiding spots; intrigued, and frightened.

"Will it make a difference?"  The suit asked.

Daren smiled a sad smile. "Not really." He said with a slight shrug.  The suit paused without taking his eyes off of Daren.

"Finish it."

Now it was Daren's turn to pause.  He hadn't noticed it before, with all the commotion...but this suit's eyes were blue.  The suit noticed.

"Yea..." he said.  "Presents more questions then it answers, doesn't it?"

Daren lowered his gun. "Get out."  He growled.  "Go back to them, hightail it...I don't care, but get the hell out of my sight."

The suit began to back out the door, then paused, looking over his shoulder. "Aerin,"  he said to Daren.  "My name is Aerin."  Then, in a startling show of either idiotic bravado, or misplaced trust, he turned his back, and stepped out of the bar.