#martym

It was almost impossible for someone born into slavery to fully let go of their old life. The Zabrak Sith Rochus, her husband, was an example of this. Although he spent most of his days in control, ordering others around and even owning slaves of his own; he still looked to Nimven for permission for certain things, establishing her as the one who owned him.

The thought made her smile a little as she watched her husband interact with the Nagai known as Merou. It was clear that the two were attracted to each other, dancing around the subject like two blushing virgins. The Nagai pushed a little more to get a reaction out of Rochus, asking him out to share a bottle of wine and perhaps something more.

Rochus' eyes flicked over to Nimven, silently asking for permission.

The gesture made her smile grow, forced to hide the expression behind her hand. Her husband was feared by so many people. He killed and tortured without a care in the world. Yet at the end of the day, he was still loyal to her and his little adopted family and them alone. She nodded her head slightly, making a shooing gesture at him. “Go on, Kitty,” she urged.

Serge hissed softly to himself, frowning as he wiped the lab assistant's blood off of his coat before approaching the terminal. He set his gun down and started to type, transferring the data in the terminal into a small floppy disk before completely erasing the system's memory.

He could hear the soldier's fighting with the Brotherhood outside. The sound of battle was getting closer and closer, forcing him to try and move faster in his work.

He stepped over his assistant's body, digging through the pockets of the other two he had killed first. He found a few energy cells to use on his gun and he snorted, pocketing them before finding a few disks of data they had been hiding in their coats dropping the bodies once more.

They had tried to suggest surrendering to the Brotherhood of Steel, giving them everything they had in the hopes to escape execution. Serge had no intention of letting anyone use his work as a bargaining chip, especially not to the Brotherhood of all factions.

He smashed the terminal's screen when everything was finished and fled through the backdoor of the lab. If he could just slip by unnoticed there was a chance he could maybe send out a distress signal and get picked up by another chapter of the Enclave. All he had to do was get out of here and...

His eyes widened in horror when he was suddenly grabbed from behind and yanked into a small storage room, one hand over his mouth and the other gripping his wrist. Their grip was impossibly strong, like metal.

They were metal.

Serge calmed down as soon as he realized this fact, his body becoming loose and allowing Bruce to let go of him when he was sure he wouldn't shout and give them away. “We can't go that way,” he whispered.

“Why not?”

“Brotherhood has it covered.”

Serge frowned, shaking his head. “Then how do we get out of here?” he asked.

Bruce smiled at him. “I'll find a way for us to get out of here,” he promised.

“I hope you're not planning on doing anything stupid and overly dramatic,” Serge warned.

“Possibly.”

Serge sighed, his nostrils flaring in annoyance. “Then let's get this over with.”