So they had found him again. Arrested again. Put in prison again. It was all becoming standard fare now to be honest, but at least some of the guards were new, some new faces, but so skittish. They always had a cell open for him here, and he dropped in every so often to say hello, but he wouldn't be staying long. First chance he got he would be out of here, he needed some information and he knew exactly where he needed to go to find it. Actually, he had been on his way out there, when he had been arrested for 'killing a few people, maybe destroying that one space station.' They had all been mercs and pirates anyway, so what real harm was he doing to the world? Was he not simply making it better for every damned soul that lived in it. The female moved again, it may have been prison, meaning you would expect him to be uncomfortable, but these cells were almost too roomy.
Looking out the small window in the front of the door, he could see the prison guard. They called them prison guards, because that's what they were here for - guarding the prisons, but they weren't really prison guards, simply hired mercenaries, most of which took pleasure in the off chance that they got to beat one of the prisoners to a bloody pulp every once in a while, that kept them happy. He was beaten almost every day, he pissed the guards off - something they did not like all that much, but he was almost becoming immune to it by now, they were going to need to up their game soon.
As if on cue, he could see through the window as the guard turned to face the door, fiddling with the lock for a moment before it opened and the door slid open smoothly, allowing the guard entrance into the prison. It was rather amazing that many of the prisoners had not escaped, or tried to, the damn doors stayed open long enough, but they would probably be gunned down long before they ever hoped to get off this prison, plus what were they going to escape to? The empty void of space? Sometimes it seemed however; that death was probably the best thing to hope for.
The guard looked at the prisoner for a second, his expression unreadable behind his mercenary helmet, but he looked human at least. One of the prisoners he had killed, they had been krogan - the beatings had gotten worse after that. Not surprising. Guards didn't appreciate when you killed someone who was going to make the Warden money and krogan didn't like it much when you removed their head plates. The guard held up his baton, before proceeding to hit the prisoner in the side of the head with it. Once, twice, three times. The prisoner turned back to him, bleeding from the nose, and spat some blood onto the floor.
"Is that all you got?"
This provoked more hits from the baton, but they wouldn't kill him and even if they tried, they would be dead long before they could, then another guard would take their place. The cycle would continue, there was absolutely no way in stopping that, but he didn't plan to stop the cycle, just stick a wrench in it long enough for him to escape back into the galaxy again. Another hit to the side of the head, he spat up more blood and he heard the guard mumble something to himself.
"Your leaving, I thought we were just getting to know each other." he said, looking up at the guard as he turned his back on the prisoner.
"You're lucky I'm leaving Cross, you might end up dead otherwise."
'Yea, that's the word I would have used too. Lucky.' he thought to himself sarcastically.
The prison guard exited the cell, making damn sure to close the door behind him and lock it, standing there in front of the door again, silently, guarding. Doing his damned job. 'If I hadn't been so stupid, I wouldn't have been captured in the first place.' he thought to himself, cursing. he should have been smarter, but instead he let his emotions get in the way of his mission; a stupid mistake, a rookie mistake.
Hiding out on a planet far away from any space stations had seemed like a good idea. Not many trading planets around either, you would have thought the mercs would never have found him. But they had, and it had only taken them five years to do it. Dodging out of the way of yet another burst of assault rifle fire, he pushed him deep into one of the crevasse' of the mountain, trying to keep as much of his body out of view as possible. he had attempted to sneak around the side of the mountain, hoping to take the mercs by surprise, maybe even get a few hits on them before they even knew what was happening, but somehow they had spotted him the second he had started and had begun firing on him with their rifles. Turians, Batarians, humans, blue suns mercs weren't high on his list of favorite people in the world. Dodging another spray of assault rifle fire he let go a few shots from his pistol before diving forward to hide behind another crevasse in the mountain.
He had made his way down the mountain after that, a damn slow process, but he was still alive at least. Knocking two blue suns merc's heads together, he proceeded to shoot each one three times, one in the head, two in the chest, making sure they were dead or at least not going to be any more trouble before he moved on. he knew exactly who had hired them, a batarian with a grudge, someone he thought he had left in him past years ago - but now it seemed like he had been mistaking. Another two guards done, killed with the turian blade this time, no need to worry about kinetic barriers when you're getting close and personal with your enemies, just slide right past the barriers.
Another three mercs before he was hit in the back of the head with the butt of a rifle. Another hit once he was on the ground. Rolling over and firing a few shots he noticed the merc bound backwards so not to be hit before the merc fired a shot into his leg. Cross cursed, dropping to the ground as the rounds punched through his kinetic barriers and into his leg. Looking back up at the mercs that had surrounded him he thought about making a run for it, but more likely than not that would only end with him being shot to death, so he dropped the pistol and surrendered.