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The soldier slid his rifle back into position and started to dig around his armor. It was tricky, pulling anything from the minimal pockets of his tight black skell gear, but he produced the cigarette package with ease born of long practice. A single narrow cylinder magicked between his fingers. He flicked a glance at his companion and hesitated. One dark eyebrow lifted in a question, bringing a momentary brightness to his sleepy expression.
"No, thank you," she replied, her voice clipped. Murderess watched as Lao lit up his cigarette. His hands were cupped close around it, even though there was no breeze in the cavern.
She waited until he finished the first cycle of smoke. He wasn't fussy about it, although the first pull was hard enough that she could hear the crinkle of the paper as it burned. When he exhaled, there were no fancy stunts or rings, just a breath made visible, a shield of wasted life. "Aren't you supposed to be watching the idiots in there?" She gestured without looking toward the broad mouth of the tunnel that led to yet another cave.
"Nah. I figure I'll let them talk alone for a moment." He took another drag. "Sure you don't want one?" He gestured to her with the cigarette. The glowing end traced a figure eight.
"I'd sooner smoke clove cigarettes behind the girls' gym. Your kind stinks." She lifted her nose slightly, still keeping her eyes away from the other cave. They'd found their target there, hunched in the center of enemy debris, muttering and howling. The oldest member of their team had almost flung himself onto the ground next to the golden criminal, dropping his weapons in a clumsy heap in the process. His crooning did nothing to reduce the ranting of the madman. Murderess had stacked the abandoned gear neatly at a distance before marching out to the major cavern area in disgust.
Lao nodded gently at her words. "What's your reason for being here anyway?"
"What's yours?" she snapped.
"Pathfinder loyalty," he said. It didn't sound convincing.
"Pathfinders are frail and penniless," she sneered.
"So you're here for a payout," he replied. He waved the cigarette slightly, almost ready to toss it away, but instead took another weary drag.
"Everyone is, they just call it something different. Or they sink. I'm not one of those."
"Or they get dragged down," Lao muttered. He tilted his head back to examine the cavern ceiling. His long black hair slipped free, pulling his head further back.
A large shadow passed along the gravel at their feet, but neither startled. Doug Barret, fourth of the team, was returning from his sweep of the bridge that led to the area.
"Geez, Lao, you were supposed to ..."
"I know, I know ..."
"Get off his case, Barrett. I was dying for a smoke and made him join me." Murderess reached out and plucked the butt from Lao's hand. She drew in one last lungful, then flicked it into the void. "Can we get going now? I have a feeling we're pushing our luck."