However despite, or in retrospect may be because of, those humble beginnings Exiles were surprisingly successful. When it came down to it, it's not like there was anywhere else we could go.
We fell lucky - yeap Marcus got to the crib before any one else one day and was gifted a sweet BPN. Escort duty for some VIP from New Paris. A dippy cow of an ebon who had no sense of self preservation and how wanted to witness the "Mort real".
So we showed her.
We ran some stupid risks that day. In retrospect it was a damn good job that we tacked onto that contract killer, because if it wasn't for the excellent footage we got from his Spot Bee her father would have nailed us to the wall. But luckily all his footage showed her 'insisting' and us saying 'no' and her saying 'do it or else' so one get out of jail card free, and 30 minutes of sweet combat shots of her running screaming and us being untypically professional, and we were away.
A few weeks later and we got a call in to do a silver with a fashion designer who had seen the footage. It gave us guaranteed top quality air time and all we had to do was wander around some of the less pretty bits of Mort and have our photos taken in his designs. After that people knew our names.
Strangely the constant off duty frictions made us even more 'popular' with the gossip press. So much so Marcus started running a book on the column inches devoted to our public arguments, which turned a tidy enough profit for him to move out of his downtown pit and upgrade to uptown.
Sponsors started showing an interest, possible inspired by the misguided concept that there is no such thing as bad publicity. Ok may be they were not the kind of sponsors 'Uncle Preen' would have approved of, but after the roasting Iona had given me I came to the conclusion that I really couldn't afford to care about what any one else thought of me. Servitude and Alien Sex 's credits are as good as any others when it comes to playing the rent and bullet tax, and they are always fairly desperate for actual talent as most 'good' squads won't touch them.
Between their photo shoots, Iona's ongoing 'advice' and Kr'tn's constant religious mumbling I learnt to switch off for anything that wasn't vital to my survival.And I drifted.
It may seem strange but it was an easy life.
Having come to the conclusion that I would never live up to Teeths proclamation, and that anything I actually achieved would be ignored anyway I was free from any real pressure to do anything.
My existence came down to solving the challenge laid down on the next BPN card; loosing my self in nights in the pit, mostly Mass where I was well known and popular enough; attending photo shoots for my sponsors; and just being seen.I suppose I could have just gone on like that, would have if it had not been for one stupid little incident.
One silly wrong turn and suddenly my world was upside down.
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