Obsidian is mine
art done by
Nytro who is a guest in the story belongs to fluff-kevlar

Story, Chapter six : Off Base Operation:

The FTL drives hummed in unison, propelling the lightly armored stealth ship ever onward in the black abyss of stars. Interplanetary travel wasn’t quite her favorite thing to do, but this time being an exception; the lure of a bigger paycheck was too hard to ignore. It was a very precise target that Obsidian was tasked to silence this time; apparently this mutt of a hybrid was getting off of his lazy ass and cracking down on her client’s operations. They needed the best and, like always, they turned to the one assassin who could get the job done quickly and quietly. As the navi-system beeped continuously, signifying that her destination was close approaching, the svelte spragon slipped her plump buttocks back down the leather exterior of the pilot’s seat; after all, she couldn’t very well dance her way into port. Getting past clearance was easily done, as was the decontamination process, but the docking fees… that proved to be the only issue for the spragon. It wasn’t so much that she couldn’t pay the fee, but that she didn’t want to waste her money on something as trivial as a docking fee; a quick flash of her weapons and a small, lustily whispered threat cleared it all up easily enough.

When she had finally cleared the docking bay, it was just approaching sunset in this sector of the galaxy. As assassinations obviously go better at night, it was in her best judgment to grab a quick drink from the local cantina. Goldschlager and rumplemintze, four shots of each quickly disappeared down her throat; the tell-tale burn from the alcohol numbing the tender lining of her gullet. Spending the rest of the remaining daylight taking what sights the immediate facility had to offer, and scoping out the best exit route should events go south, Obsi was quite aware of the amount of lecherous glances that the males, and some females, cast her direction; tight, latex clad breasts have a nagging habit of doing that. With the last few rays of the dying sun vanishing behind the rocky horizon, the spragon pushed her plans into motion. The best entry point would be from the window on the third story. The apartment building where the target had been seen last was just a few feet in the air from the very bar she chose to idle in, so time and distance weren’t too much of an issue. The crowd, however, was, and she needed some sort of distraction. Those crimson eyes scanned about the room for something, or someone that could cause a majority of the bar to turn their heads for the few seconds that she needed. Spotting a scantily clad, red furred feline waitress casually sauntering about the club, an dark thought crossed Obsi’s mind. That slender, lithe body weaved in and out of the crowd until she stood directly in the waitress’ path. She made it to look like she was waiting in line for another go at the bar, thus forcing the seemingly careless waitress to go around her, forcing her to walk in the direct path of a morbidly obese rat, whom Obsi had noticed watching the waitress with gleaming eyes. Not wanting to pass this chance up, the lecher attempted an idle bum-brush on the pert cheeks of the waitress. Needless to say, this was rewarded with a shriek of disgust, followed by a stream of obscenities. With the waitress’ cries and the senseless beating that the lecher was receiving, Obsi knew that it was now or never.

With lightning reflexes, she began scaling the industrial themed scaffolding that lay littered around the bar. Whether or not it was a simple theme for the night or it was for actual repair, the metal bars and platforms made it quite easily to scale the length it took to reach the top tier apartments. When at last she reached the transparent glass of the windows, scanning each room for evidence of her target, Obsidian’s eyes soon caught the signs of obviously heightened security.

“This guy’s good…” She muttered to herself through a thin lipped smirk, “But I’m better.” As the last words stealthily left her lips, she held up a small square device, taken from her belt. With a small click, the device sprang to life, shielding the spragon in a layer of kinetic energy that masked her presence. With her body cloaked and her fingers working on the locks, the stealthy spragon soon was inside the room; her mind tirelessly resisting the urge to play with the various security tech that lay before her. For what seemed like an eternity, Obsidian waited for her target to come back, her eyes never leaving the doorknob. When at last the shining silver gave a small turn and the door creaked lightly upon its hinges, the spragon’s eyes lit up with a small, pleased glow. The sight of her target was not at all what she expected, but the literal definition of tall, dark, and handsome. The mostly ebony fur, mottled here and there with snow and crimson, covered what appeared to be a well-toned frame; at least what she could discern from the parts that weren’t covered by the muted blue coat. If it weren’t for the boots and the visor, she could’ve sworn that this wasn’t her target; the boots and visor the key identification points her clients provided her with as to identify him.

As he passed through the threshold and into the apartment, the small twitch of his ears and the slow turning of his head caused Obsidian to smirk devilishly. Apparently, she had misjudged this man… he was quite better than she initially thought. She soon found herself staring into the mix-matched eyes of her target, Nitrogen, or “Nytro” as her employers called him. From right to left, the golden and blue orbs scanned the room before settling upon the corner just to the left of the bed, right near the window.

“If you think you’ve got the drop on me, you’re quite wrong, sweetcheeks.” Nytro chuckled lowly as he raised his left arm to his side slowly, “But I give you points for at least trying to be stealthy. Most assassins seem to forget that’s one of their protocols.”

Obsidian smirked. He had quite the mouth on him, too. “And I see that your actions aren’t the only thing that causes annoyance to people, Mister Nytro.” The spragon began as she stepped out from the shadows, the kinetic shielding vanishing to reveal her form. “I do believe congratulations are in order for having some intelligence to find me.”

This assassin wasn’t at all like the others; most usually shot first and asked questions later. But this one… was actually a bit of an upstart, and Nytro knew exactly how to handle upstarts. “Really, you’re congratulating me on intelligence? I don’t quite think you’re qualified to hand out the trophies for that aspect, darling.” The hybrid stated bluntly, his hand now resting upon the butt of his sidearm. Before he could even say the word “shoot”, the tell-tale click of a desert eagle could be heard. “Though, you could probably pass out the medals for reflexes…. I gotta give you that.”

“Oh, dear, is that a complement I hear from King of the Pretty Boys? I’m so flattered.” Obsi cooed softly through a low chuckle, cocking her head to the side. “Don’t forget that I’m actually here to kill you. Some low lives want you dead and I need to eat, so… would you kindly just lay down and take it, like a good little bitch?”

Her last remark coaxed a grin from the canid hybrid, his eyes flashing with a sadistic light as his pistol whipped into view. “Well, that escalated quickly. And here I thought that we were getting off on the right foot…” Nytro’s brow softened into seriousness for a split second, “And please, I only see one bitch here and she’s trying to fulfill a role that’s not hers. On your knees. Now.”

As neither wanted to yield their position, and the ear-splitting alert of guns firing having a penchant of drawing attention, Obsi merely tossed her hands up in the air. Her boots clicked heavily upon the floor as she moved towards the would-be corpse, a small innocent blush upon her face as she attempted to turn up the charm. “Come now, you wouldn’t hit a poor, down on her luck girl like me would you? Such a big, strong boy like you must have such a lovely reputation with women… I would hate for that to be ruined by one bad incident.”

“Nice try, but I’ve seen the innocent act one time too many, darling… and I do believe I said I want you on your knees. What are you, hard of hearing or just plain ignorant?” Nytro sneered with lewd delight as the barrel of his gun came to rest between their bodies; the spragon and him just inches apart.

Seeing as he would not change his stance no matter what trick she deployed, Obsi’s fondness of this brilliant asshole grew by the minute. Undaunted, she moved closer and closer to him, pushing him back against the office chair that lay right behind him. As he gave ground and fell back into the chair, the spragon’s shapely, latex clad legs swung up in quick succession. With that curvaceous frame so close that he could feel the heat of her body and those thick hips locked around his lower half, Nytro’s smirk only grew deeper.

“Not quite what I asked for, but it’ll do.” His words came with heated breaths; small beads of sweat formed upon his brow as the two bodies heated one another.

“You’re quite lucky that I’m feeling lenient tonight…” Obsidian began with a small laugh. “I haven’t had a target this fun in a while… and I would hate to break this toy before I got to enjoy it fully.”

He opened his mouth as if he were going to speak, but was quickly silenced by the spragon’s lips latching onto his own. Once, twice, thrice their lips met in a steamy crescendo, each kiss growing more passionate by the minute. Maybe it was the heat of the moment or maybe it was the adrenaline rush from the sight of those sexy bits of steel, but the mood of the room changed from dangerous to impassioned in a matter of minutes. And just as the enticing of a night filled with foggy pleasure crossed the hybrid male’s mind, the cold touch of steel kissed tenderly at his neck.

“Did you really think it was that easy? For me to get on my knees would be acknowledge you as superior… and quite frankly, you’re not at my level yet.” Obsidian’s dulcet dripped with cynicism. “Does that bother you, my poor little baby? It’s quite ok to be afraid, you know… Not many escape me; most don’t even have certain… parts still attached.”

To this, Nytro merely arched his brow; the touch of steel on his throat barely phasing him. “You’ve got quite the mouth for a little girl. Didn’t daddy ever teach you discipline… I mean, I’m sure you adopted these… skills, if you can really call them that, from your whore of a mother. But all the same, if you’re going to be bringing blades to this little game of ours… I have to say that mine’s bigger.”

Obsidian rolled her eyes; as if she hadn’t heard that one before. “Bolstering your confidence by falsifying the size of your trouser worm is a weak move. Have you really run out of ammunition already?”

Her apparent brush off of his comment only served to make him chuckle even more. With a rough grunt, he shoved her curved form backward with little effort; her back near slamming into the wall. “You’re almost not worth bringing that blade out…” Nytro snickered slightly as his hands gripped the spragon’s wrists tightly. “And drop the cheap bit of metal you have in your hand. You may have use for your hands later, so I’d really hate for me to have to deprive you of them, purely out of self-interest, of course.”

As she stood there with her back against the wall, sweat lightly trickling down from her hairline, Obsidian could do nothing but crack a smile. “You’re… rather bad at being romantic, little boy. I guess that’s why your palms are so calloused and rough, huh? Too many nights spent on that fancy little laptop over there, eh? Only so many times you can shoot blanks at holobabes.” Raising a single boot-clad leg, she aimed a kick square at her target’s chest, creating a small window of opportunity for her to escape his clutches.

With the small break in the close contact, the spragon dashed for her desert eagle, her left hand swinging around to grip the one that lay hidden in her belt. But just as it was within her reach, the gloved hand of Nytro reached out and stole the weapon out from under her. The sound of three guns clicking in unison resounded off the shaded walls of the apartment; another stalemate it seems. Both Obsi and Nytro were panting now; the strain of the swift reflexes apparent in both of their faces. With frustration reaching its peak, Obsidian’s trigger finger adopted an incurable itch and let off a double-tap; two rounds just barely grazing the side of her targets face. As if on impulse, both triggers under Nytro’s fingers buckled under the pressure, firing of two rounds directly at the chest of the spragon. With what seemed to be near impossible agility, the lithe spragon swiftly rolled to the side, just barely dodging the bullets. Once again their weapons raised in preparation to shoot; the tension between them thickening with bloodlust by the second. Every muscle tensed, like a spring coiled and ready to be released with startling speed. The pressure slowly pressed down on the triggers, the chambers loaded and ready to fire. But at that precise moment, the sound of sirens in the distance cut the tension with an invisible knife. Apparently their little spat had roused the awareness of the residents of the apartment.

“Well, would you look at that? Looks like I don’t need to call for back-up, after all…” Snorting a bit, sounding just a bit dejected, Nytro tossed the desert eagle in his hand upon the floor; the cooling steel firearm sliding to the heavy soles of Obsidian’s boot. “I won’t have to shoot you if you just remain still, you know. Surrender peacefully and I may just take you out to dinner before I grill you in the interrogation chamber.”

Cracking a sarcastic smile, the spragon slowly bent her knees, lowering her body to the ground; her eyes and her weapon never leaving her target. “Surrender peacefully? I think you have the wrong kind of girl for that, cupcake.” Obsidian petulantly said as she now aimed both of her weapons at the hybrid male. “My clients won’t be pleased, but I am. I think I’ll keep you alive a little longer, my precious little mutt. After all these years of hunting down people… I’ve finally found a toy that I actually have fun with.” Grinning wickedly, she holstered her weapons; the slack aim from the male across for her spoke of his true intentions. “Consider yourself lucky, boy… you dodged death today. But I’ll be back… I always come back for the fun ones.”

As the last sultry tones echoed within the apartment, the sumptuous form of the spragon vanished into thin air, only her sultry, haunting laughter remained. By the time that Nytro’s supposed back up arrived, she was long gone.

“We heard reports of shots being fired in the vicinity, so the captain sent us to investigate…” A voice in the crowd of officers spoke up; the voice belonged to a female canine, more than likely the captains own little pet. “Is the suspect still here, sir?”

“… Why is that you’re always late? For once, can you not drag your feet when there’s actual work to be done?” Nytro said with a small sigh of exasperation. “She’s gone… but she’ll be back. She –always- comes back.”

“She, the suspect is female?” The brown-nosing officer matter-of-factly as she withdrew a small pad of paper. “Give me a description and I’ll get it out to every outpost in the galaxy.”

Without batting an eye, Nytro turned to his fellow officer. “Feline, tall, and built better than you, Mosquito Bites.” Cracking his signature grin, the hybrid holstered his gun and muscled past the crowd of useless squadmates. “And if you send that out, I’ll post the nudes you sent me, Miss Insecure. Next time, don’t be fucking late.”