Word on the street was that this band a' Cawdor ex-cons callin' themselves "The Judged" was shakin' down our shops askin' for protection money. Let me get one damn thing straight: we're the ones shakin' down those shops! I rounded up the girls and we managed to hit 'em in this old-lookin' part a' town.
See the thing about these jerks is that they name themselves after their crimes, y'see? So there was this jack-off named Manslaughter, and some other bozo named Solicitation. Well, bein' stupid must not be a crime accordin' to House Cawdor, otherwise the whole bunch a' these dickheads whoulda had a hard time knowin' who's who, if ya catch my drift.
Anyway, things were goin' pretty well until Sweet Dee's gun backfired, knockin' her on her ass the whole scrap.
Ta tell ya the truth, I was a little disappointed with the girls this scrap. I mean, they weren't the worst, but it seemed like I was doin' most a' the hittin'. My bolter was barkin' like a rad-hound. I sniped this little creep right off the bat, and knocked his ass on the ground.
It got to a point where we were holed up behind this building with a heavy stubber and a jerk with a shotgun keepin' our heads down. It was at this point that I did what any good leader would do, and sent out the juve to draw their fire. That bitch Cynthia was nowhere to be seen (probably too busy tryin' ta knife me in the back), so I had to tell Mish to haul her ass out there. Well no kiddin'—BAM!—they take her out. I didn't hear the stubber go, though. I was plannin' on jumpin' out there myself when that maniac Marlene decides to rev-up her chainsword and jump out like a lunatic. Well, sure 'nough she takes one in the shoulder, and hits the plascrete.
I heard the stubber jam, and the gunner goin' "oh," so I jumped out and squeezed the trigger harder'n I ever done. Well, that was enough for these jokers. They picked up their wounded and slunk off like a buncha Delaque. Well, all but one of 'em. We took that Solicitation fella and met up with their gang again a little later in an alley. I had my las pointed at his head, and demanded that they fork over some creds, otherwise they slavers'll have what's left of 'em. They were broke as a joke, but I still managed to squeeze 45 creds out of 'em (more than I'd get from the slavers, at least).
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