Octavian Augustus was once again in the dingy spaceport bar. It was night on the world of Gorky, and many of the renegades and pirates were asleep. The intelligence agent had a data-pad in front of him, and he was typing a message to his old friend, a bounty hunter named Duke Bullwhip, whom he�d worked with as a mercenary.

He completed the message, and was about to send it, when he felt a heavy hand drop onto his shoulder. Octavian turned and looked up to see a rather burly renegade towering over him.

�Well, well, well,� whispered the renegade in his gruff voice. �What do we have here?� he asked; �Looks like a UE piggy to me,� he said, answering his own question.

No, thought Octavian. Not now! Not after I�ve come this far!

The burly man prepared to let his fists rain down on the smaller intelligence agent, when Octavian simply asked: �What�s your middle name?� This broke the renegade�s train of thought, and left him open for an attack. That split second was all that Octavian needed.

He punched the burly renegade in the jaw. The renegade fell to the floor, and pulled out a knife that was hidden in his boot. He stood and leaped towards Octavian. Augustus side-stepped, narrowly avoiding the flying pirate, and grabbed onto his chair. He pulled on it, but, as he soon realized, it was bolted to the floor. Pulling with all his strength, Octavian freed the chair and swung it at the renegade. The burly renegade fell to the floor. His face was bruised, and blood poured from several wounds.

The intelligence agent noticed three other renegades -- some of this fellow�s shipmates, no doubt -- approaching. Octavian placed a booted foot over the pirate�s throat. �One word, and I stomp down and crush your throat,� he warned. Octavian removed his blaze pistol from his holster and aimed it at the approaching renegades. �It�s set to kill,� he threatened.

�So�s mine,� said the first renegade, who produced a pistol of his own.

Octavian heard the whining sound of a blaze pistol charging, and he fired his pistol first. It hit the first renegade square in the chest, knocking him back into the wall. Then the intelligence agent heard footsteps behind him; before he could react, another renegade had grabbed him from behind, lifting him in the air, and leaving him relatively defenseless. Octavian struggled, and, once he�d freed his arm enough, he elbowed this attacker in the ribs. He swung his leg around, and his booted foot caught this man�s face. Grabbing his blaze pistol, which had fallen to the floor when he was picked up, Octavian shot the burly renegade on the floor. If he told them what I know about Outpost Omega... he tried to justify the murder to himself, but could not. This is not the time for this, he thought. Octavian knew that he was still in danger.

Two renegade attackers remained. They stood in front of him, one to his left and the other to his right. Octavian had his blaze pistol raised, but these men, too, were armed with blaze weaponry. For what seemed like an eternity, no one moved. Suddenly, one of the renegade attackers leaped forward, tackling the intelligence agent, as well as catching him off-guard. Octavian was pinned to the floor, and the renegade took his blaze pistol out of his hand.

The other renegade approached and placed the cold barrel of his own blaze pistol against Octavian�s forehead. �And now,� he said, �you die.�

Octavian knew this, too. But then he thought about it. If I�m going to die anyway, why not take a chance? He kicked his legs upward, knocking the other renegade backwards. Wriggling out of the other attacker�s grasp, Octavian jumped to his feet. He pulled a small, silver blaze pistol out. Its charger was only large enough for the stun setting, but it would still help him. He fired at the attacker that he had just kicked away, leaving him unconscious. He turned to fire on the other attacker, but found himself (once again) staring down the barrel of a blaze pistol that was set to kill. No way out of this one, he told himself grimly.

The intelligence agent closed his eyes and awaited the shot. He heard a blaze shot fired, but he felt nothing. Nothing happened. He opened his eyes, and saw the renegade attacker dead at his feet. Glancing around, the intelligence agent saw the bartender standing behind the counter with a high-powered blaze rifle. He winked at the intelligence agent and then said (to everyone): �Pay your bar tabs, or you�ll end up like him.�

Octavian smiled and wiped the sweat from his brow. He sent the message through Hyper-Net, and prayed that Duke Bullwhip would get it in time...