She crouched, readying herself for an attack. "We aren’t friends, but we do try to murder each other regularly. So, more like colleagues, eh mu'dak?" She smiled at Evan, "That’s Russian for arsehole." She was just about to jump out when a red jet of color hit Jean in her back. He looked up and saw a man with dirty blond hair, hard, cruel eyes, and a missing hand before he saw red, then he knew no more.  