As soon as the pair opened the bar the stench of sweat and alcohol wafted into their noses. Jay remained unaffected by the odor. The smell was all too familiar with him. Beatrice on the other hand was quick to cover her nose. ‘This place is just filled with all sorts of bad odors,’ she thought to herself as they entered.

   The place was loud and rowdy. Men lettered the Undergrounds only pub, drinking, smoking, socializing, and being serviced by provocative female AutoDroids as well as old, busted, and worn down ones that they’d occasionally toy with like insignificant objects meant to fill their boredom.

   “Don’t stand out, don’t look at or talk to anyone,” Jay told Beatrice as they moved further in. Beatrice put her hood further on her head. They made their way to the back towards the main bar. Jay took a seat in one of the open stools as Beatrice stood behind him, not quite feeling comfortable enough in this place to sit. After about a minute a man who looked no older than Jay came to service the pair. He had black hair greased back and an eye prosthetic on his right eye that looked like a monocle. The man stopped in front of the pair brushing his white button-up shirt before folding his arms and addressing the two.

   “What can I get for you two,” he asked.

   Jay was the first to respond. “A Frosted Cherry,” he said plainly. The man nodded and looked at the girl waiting for her reply. Jay spoke again. “Don’t bother, she’s not a fan of alcohol,” the man nodded again as he stared at Jay for a bit.

   “Don’t I know you,” he asked with a raised brow.

   Jay smirked a bit. “No, probably not,” he responded. He glanced up at the man. “But Bando should, he still owns this establishment, yes?”

   The man looked slightly confused. “Just who are you,” he leaned in a bit with an analytical eye. “You looking for work or somethin?”

    Jay just waved his hand lazily at him. “Don’t worry about the specifics just tell him an old friend is wanting to catch up.”

   The bartender stared at Jay for a moment with a look of suspicion but nonetheless headed his request. He went off and whispered something to someone else sitting at the far left of the bar stand before getting Jay's drink.

   “How is it,” the bartender asked him as he took a sip. Jay looked up at the man with a smirk.

   “Not bad, my complements to the maker,” he responded raising his glass and taking another sip of the alcohol. The man nodded before leaving to tend to the other customers. Beatrice, after inspecting the seat next to Jay like she was looking for a hidden bomb, sat down next to the man.

   “What’s this Bando guy like,” she asked him. “Can we even trust him?”

   Jay chuckled. “I trust this man as much as I trust your capabilities to not give me food poisoning when you decide to cook,” he responded jokingly to the woman.

  She struck her foot out to her left hitting the man in the shin. He let out a muffled yelp and shot her a dirty look.

   “Sorry, just going through a case of the jitters right now,” she voiced her faux apology to him with a serious expression on her face.

  “He may not be the ideal option,” Jay began. “But right now, he’s the best shot we’ve got. Unless you have some other masterful idea, you’ve been hiding all this time,” Jay said as he took another sip of the rink in his hands.

   “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Beatrice sighed while looking down at her clasped together hands-on the table.

   “Yeah, you and me both kiddo. But what’s life without a little danger,” he responded with a smirk.

   They sat in silence for a bit before a large, and very intimidating dark-skinned man with prosthetic arms that looked like they were built for punching holes through steel approached them.

   “You’re the ones looking to speak with Bando,” he asked. His voice laced with bass to it that enhanced the intimidating aura he gave off.

   Jay turned to the man with a faux smile. “Right, you are my man. If Mr. Bando isn’t otherwise occupied of course,” he responded.

   “He’s expecting you in his office. Come with me,” the man said waving them to follow.

   “Well, that was easy,” Beatrice whispered to Jay as they moved to follow the man sent to get them off towards a door on the far left side of the pub.

   Jay didn’t respond. He had a deadly serious look on his face. But there was something else to it to. Something the young woman couldn’t figure out.

   “Right through here,” their guide said as he opened the door, the smell of smoke from a cigar wafting out the room. Beatrice swears to herself mentally that she’ll never be able to smell the same again after this little venture. The pair took cautious steps inside before two pairs of arms grabbed them from behind, pinning their arms behind their backs and kicking the back of their legs so that they buckled, forcing them down to the ground on their knees. The large man from early shut and locked the door before standing guard by it.

   “What the hell,” Beatrice cursed in confusion and anger though in hindsight she should’ve expected no less from a shady pub, run by shady people in the shadiest place in Shiko.

   “Jay, the hell did you get us into,” she shouted at her senior in furry.

   “Shut it,” Jay said back to her sternly whilst facing forward towards the office desk in the center of the room. Or rather the person behind it.

   Beatrice did as she was told but wouldn’t stop silently cursing her mentor as she looked around the room analyzing anything and everything. Looking for a way out of their predicament. The room was small. Just a plain bookshelf to the right, the wooden desk in the center littered with junk and the man standing sitting behind it holding a picture frame while leaning in his chair nonchalantly smoking an E-cig, a lamp in the back right corner that illuminated the room and a large plant vase in the opposite corner, towards the right of the bookshelf.

   The mand behind the table took his cigarette out of his mouth with his free hand and letting out a puff of smoke as he continued to stare at the picture a bit in silence. Jay stared daggers at the man as he sat there lazily. Beatrice took note of the man’s appearance. He had blond hair that dropped to the base of his neck, his iris had a blue luminescence to them hinting at him having the latest ocular enhancements that gave the user functions such as infrared, night vision, heat tracking, and x-ray capabilities along with overall enhanced ocular quality, like watching a movie in the highest performing quality on earth twenty-four seven. His muscled body was adorned with facial scars running along his left jaw and nose and casual set of clothes consisting of a dark brown leather jacket with a grey hood, a black shirt, dark blue jeans, and black dress casual shoes.

If Beatrice had to throughout a wild guess, she had to assume that this was Bando.

   “Twenty-five years,” Bando began. His voice had both a worn gruffness to it as well as a warm friendly tone.

   “It’s been twenty-five years since we last saw each other.” He paused for a bit, but no one spoke.

   “You never called, you never wrote, nothin. And you just decide to waltz up in the place like nothin huh? Man, you still have them steel balls of yours huh, partner?” Bando sat the photo down and adjusted his posture in his dark leather chair as he leaned forward on his hands staring at the two guests in front of him.

   He raised an eyebrow at the sight of Beatrice. “And who’s this pretty thing here,” he asked with a slight smirk. Beatrice could feel her blood boil at the look he was giving her. It made her sick.

   “Didn’t know you shot for the young ones partner but hey, who am I to judge,” he spoke once more.

   “Go to hell,” Beatrice hissed at the man with venom.

   “Cut the crap,” Jay cut in. He was not in the mood. Having to be here again especially in front of this man was really putting a damper on his mood.

   “We’re here on business Bando,” Jay said glaring at the man. “We’ve got word on an AD hiding out here. Tell us where we can find it and we’ll be on our way.”