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Whatever it was, Niko hoped it brought Elliott comfort. The man deserved it. He deserved far more support and love than his life had ever provided him.

“Though his methods are ham-fisted, to put it in your human terms,” Yalsa said. Niko looked back at her. “The public vanity of his kills confounds his mission. If it were me, I would be taking them down in the dark. No one would ever know who I was. Nor who would be next.”

“Yeah. I mean, that sounds like you,” Niko said dumbly, not really knowing what else to say.

It was always hard to talk to her; he had little connection.

He’d always had the distinct feeling she disliked him, and had overheard her once describing him as a ‘simple, puerile creature’ years ago.

“But that’s the thing. He could kill them quietly and privately, but he wanted to send a message.

In the end, shock and fear grabs people’s attention in a way shouting or pleading doesn’t.

And I guess there’s only so much screaming into a void that you can do. ”

“He certainly has the entire galaxy’s attention now,” Yalsa said, pulling her translucent shawl tighter around her shoulders. “ Everyone wants a piece of your lover for themselves. And now they want you, too.”

He opened his mouth to respond when Death cut him off.

It seemed her conversation with Elliott was over.

“Alright. Let’s get down to business, shall we?

” She made her way back into the conference room, sinking into her usual chair at the head of the table.

Yalsa slithered after her, casting Niko one last, enigmatic glimpse over her shoulder, before she found her own seat beside her wife.

Elliott drifted past him. He seemed out of it, skin still drained of color, lips pressed tightly together. His eyes looked haunted, exhausted. Niko grabbed him lightly by the wrist and Elliott almost seemed startled to see him there.

“Niko.”

“Hey. You doing okay, babe?” Niko murmured.

“I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re fine.” They looked at each other for a moment. “Don’t.”

“I’m… not sure,” Elliott said slowly instead.

Niko nodded. He could appreciate the honesty, at least. “We’ll talk about it, okay?”

“I—” Elliott’s eyes glazed over, turning dull. He was retreating somewhere inside himself. “I don’t really want to talk about it anymore,” he admitted.

Niko swallowed back a lump growing in his throat. “Okay. That’s alright. I’m here if you need anything, though, okay?”

“Thanks, Niko.”

They made their way to the table and sat. Niko glanced over at him; Elliott appeared calm and perfectly, stoically composed now, but Niko knew by the near translucency of his complexion that he was still barely holding himself together.

Two small canisters of LightningLace sat unsealed on the table near Death—stimulant street drugs widely used for keeping awake for long hours and maintaining focus. She must have stayed up all night combing through Elliott’s files.

“I see now why you want people to know that this is happening. I’ve seen some shit in my life, but this collection of files takes the piss out of anything else.

And I believe I can pull together the resources to help you.

It’s going to take time to prepare it and get every moving part in place.

So, I want you to make good on your favor to me, first. I assume that’s agreeable to you? ”

Niko swallowed, but nodded. Whatever she was about to ask, he was ready. It had been so long and he was tired of hiding away.

Death opened her phone hologram to his contact—which still had a decade old photo, youthful, bright-eyed, and grinning—and sent him a file, which chimed on Niko’s phone seconds later.

He opened it, revealing a plethora of information on a haggard and skinny, pasty human man with empty eyes and a cagey expression.

“They call him ‘Skeevy Larry,’” Death said.

Niko half expected a sarcastic ‘Charming’ from Elliott, but the other man stayed quiet beside him.

“He’s a drug lord who’s risen in power over the last two years to the point where nobody wants to take him on.

He has very much outstayed his welcome. He has a cute little reputation for spiking women’s drinks at the local bars and doing things to them not too unlike these videos you’ve sent me.

He’s an all-around oxygen thief. Waste him for me. ”

Niko blinked. He’d expected, somehow, something much, much more .

The unpaid favor had haunted him for years, had slowly grown in his mind in size and complexity.

This was nothing more than the simple type of clean-up job he’d been given time and again when he’d been a regular here.

Niko nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Fuck this guy.”

Death looked at Elliott, raising her eyebrows. “This is your specialty too, isn’t it? Go with him if you want or stay here. Either is fine.”

“I’m going with him,” Elliott said, not missing a beat.

Death nodded. “I expected as much.” She shifted her gaze to Niko. “Do what you do best, then. Get rid of him for me, and access to the galactic public is yours.”

Niko didn’t have to be told twice.

They were served breakfast first—tom yum with shrimp and a side of delicately sliced, candied meat from a ten-legged Heenvan livestock Niko recalled as maybe kauloai or kaauluuo.

They ate with everyone else this time in the dining hall—a space not so different from the conference room, with a long table at its center.

The dining hall held a far less inherently oppressive aura, though, and everyone spoke more freely here.

Niko tentatively joined in with them, finally daring to make small talk with a few people he’d once called friends.

Elliott engaged with no one, drawn deeply inward as he ate.

Whatever had been exchanged between Death and himself continued to leave him quieted and sullen.

Then it came time to get down to business, so they set out together, trying to navigate the multi-level labyrinth that formed Dainna’s many districts, aimed toward the coordinates Death had given them of Skeevy Larry’s own compound, both men moving about under the cover of Elliott’s ORA stealth devices.

Back on Dainna again now, Niko found himself wishing he could take Elliott out on the town, touring some of the old bars and eateries he'd used to haunt in his previous life.

A date. That was the proper label for it. He wished he could pause everything and take his boyfriend on a date. To have a moment where they could both just forget about the crushing gravity of everything for a while and instead drift into the neon haze.

But that wasn’t what their lives allowed for, anymore.

Larry lived in the Saauva district, deep in what would have been hostile territory even on a good day for Niko, and full of a migraine-tangle of neon lights and crowded holograms advertising a menagerie of illicit entertainments.

Brothels, bars, casinos, drug dens and more all lined the crowded streets as fast music with a deep, shuddering bass sounded from inside one of the businesses.

They moved carefully to avoid drawing close to any crowds, keeping to back alleys.

“How’s your suit battery?” Elliott murmured. They’d wandered a good twenty minutes before he finally spoke.

“It’s fine,” Niko said. “I should be good for another day and a half, two days maybe. This way.” They turned down a long, decrepit back alleyway that even the scavengers and addicts had left abandoned.

The corridor smelled vaguely of what Niko could only describe as rotted corn, which left him a little confused—and disturbed.

A single, dim streetlight illuminated the far end.

They were otherwise cast in darkness. Elliott had a pair of night vision goggles he slipped on, but without the helmet to his suit, Niko was at a disadvantage, left to make his way along through the dark.

Elliott tried to point out where littered refuse and obstacles were, but Niko cursed as he still nearly tripped over a discarded mannequin leg.

Where the fuck that thing had even come from, he didn’t want to know.

“Quiet,” Elliott hissed. After another long pause, he spoke again. “So, I’m curious. What exactly is this favor meant to repay, anyway? Lady Death seems pretty hung up on it. Did she loan you credits?”

Niko was almost insulted. “No. Nothing like that. She gave me information. For my, ah, personal hunt. She’s the one who pulled strings and found out where my family’s killers were, then pointed me their way.

She did it with the agreement that I’d return a favor for her, too.

We traded a lot like that. Death works with an honor system and takes it pretty seriously.

If someone helps you, you help them in return when they ask.

And she’d helped me with the clear understanding this meant I owed her too.

“It’s how she has so much influence and connection.

She helps a lot of people out. By never repaying her for locating the people even Zann and I hadn’t been able to find for years, and then disappearing without so much as a word, I dishonored her pretty badly.

So, I’m grateful to get this chance to make it up. ”

“Couldn’t she have done this herself? It’s a simple hit job, right?”

“Maybe. I don’t know all the politics going on these days.

I’ve been out of it for too long. There’s usually some sort of power balance that doesn’t get crossed without repercussions.

Even if not, she’s got a lot going on. Death’s power comes from influence and connections.

She regularly has people taking care of back-end business, so she doesn’t have to busy herself with it. ”

“So why ‘Skeevy Larry,’ then? Do you have some particular connection to this guy?”