No Rest {Eric Hanser}

[Dr. Toombs]

Feburary 5, 2523

Toombs sat back in his chair wiping off his knife, the small traces of blood being slowly removed onto the white cloth. “What have you learned Megan?” He spoke aloud even though the woman he spoke with lay dead on his floor. “I don’t play well with others, and I don’t share what’s mine.” He said it flatly as his eyes looked back to his desk. It had been weeks since he posted up his want to find some of the missing people form Lilac. There had to be someone out there interested in finding some poor defenseless people.

Many that knew him, truly knew him, wondered why he bothered with such things. Well, that was simple, Reavers. They survived the attack and some of them seemed to be suffering problems from what they heard and saw after. Yes, he wanted to experiment with them. See how much they could take before they finished their transformation to what they should have been so long ago. Perhaps these ones could prove more trainable than his last batch.

He stood and looked into his lab, watching as some of the Reavers fed off slave he bought. Yes, they were beautiful. In every way. What drew him away from his obsession was the buzzing, he moved back to his desk and say tuning the Wave on. “Dr. Toombs.” [.b]

[Eric Hanser]

Eric sat in his room aboard the ship Abbie had gained passage on for the two of them to Ariel, trying for the life of him to get the crappy tablet he had been using for the entire journey to try and get a connection to the Cortex to make contact with "Doctor Toombs", the man who apparently could give the assassin and his handler work until they could both go back to their normal assignments. The tablet beeped, either telling Hanser that he had a connection or the damned thing had broken again. Thankfully, it was the former.

"Dr. Toombs, this is Martin Ickler." He kept the transmission to audio only both due to the broken camera on the tablet and the insane lag he seemed to experience during video calls. "I was just inquiring as to whether the job you posted onto the Cortex is still open." In all honesty, the job Abbie had informed him of had been a completely one, but it had fallen through (specifically, the employer had been shot through the skull by a group of muggers), so he had to find a new one sharpish. This one sounded perfect for him, although he had no idea how he was going to take down a group of slaver ships on his own without hurting the people they were transporting.