"It has been a long time, Chica." A male voice on the other end of the line stated, Kara knew that voice, Ramon. A small-time fixer she helped out of a bind long ago owed her a favor.
"I need your help, Ramon."
"Name it"
"I need to get out of Sol."
There was silence on the other end of the comm, and Kara could hear a soft thrum of Ramon's thoughtful humming. After a few moments, Ramon answered "I can do that, but it will take calling in a few favors from back when. Where are you?"
"Over in the old Shinjuku ward, lower streets. Kabukicho area. In some abandoned garage. Lots of old trinkets in here."
"I'll have someone over in a flash. Get what you need and hunker down, Chica" Kara could imagine Ramon's big grin; it was no less audible on the comm. The man has a way of conveying emotion in his voice.
"I get the feeling you're enjoying this a bit too much, Ramon," Kara smirked to herself, Ramon did enjoy people owing him, so naturally, he'd enjoy one of the most successful mercs alive owing him.
"Oh si, Chica! Music to my ears, owing you!"
Kara simply nodded to herself "yeah. You have not changed one bit, Ramon. Be seeing you." after that, Kara hung up before she searched around the building for anything useful. Finding Kimiko's portable computing station, a qGlass by the looks of it. She put it in a duffle bag she found laying around; and changed out of her newly ruined clothing, and into a zip-up black blazer, a set of thigh-high jacks, and matte black and red slim-fit pants.
She put her ruined clothes into a box. After she was done changing, she went outside to the back alley, discarding it in a garbage receptacle. As she organized all of her gear and changed into some new clothes; she got to thinking about her next move after getting off of Earth and out of the Sol system.
Her first problem was getting paid since her contact decided that paying her was out of the question. Now she had to find a new client with which she could find a job. She had no idea if her skillset was of any marketable use outside of Humanity's vast territories. Her first thought was to visit the Altherian commonwealth. The Altherians were a mercantile race, and would surely appreciate the assurances of a gun for hire they can pay for their protection. Especially if that meant they were facing a more… Terse clientele.
Another option was the Gravidans. A race of warriors, they have been in a state of endless conquests and bloodshed since their empires' inception a few hundred years ago; but working with them limited her options as far as secondary clients. While it was a very assured bet on finding work, it also limited her ability to go elsewhere.
After weighing these two considerations, she decided on the Althierians. They were easy to read, so long as they paid her instead of betraying her as her previous clients have. There was one small problem, however. Althierian space was at the edge of humanity's colonial sphere. If she intended to reach the Altherians to request asylum, she had to cross through what was considered the Badlands of the colonial spheres. That means she very well ran the risk of discovery by the Federal bureau of colonial affairs. Which has close ties with the Terran Federation's Federal enforcement bureau and the secret service. She had to formulate a plan to get across to Altherian space using any means necessary.
Another consideration was her former client, whom she now had to consider hostile since, not only did they try to kill her, but they also did not pay her. This means that she is now on the run from now just the Federation, but also from this mystery client, who only contacted her via intermediaries and by dead drops.
Kara looked into the mirror in a restroom of a run-down apartment after washing her face. She was incredibly attractive by human standards and appeared ageless. With waist-length, straight black hair, Alabaster-color, flawless skin, thin feminine lips, and a defined nose with a soft, rounded jawline that cut into her chin softly, with striking blue eyes that also had specks of purple in them, no doubt a side-effect of the mutation process that made her a Chimera. After looking at herself in the mirror for a few moments, she found a towel on the counter next to the sink bowl and dried her face off. It had been a while since she last had the leisure to relax like this in a safe location. So her nerves were slowly coming down off of the adrenaline spike she had during that encounter at the Hotel.
After this, she walked through the run-down apartment, out into a poorly-lit hallway with a flickering light fixture at the end, then down a staircase to a side exit. She turned back into the hallway on the ground floor and through a door into a garage where she parked her commandeered a vehicle from before; grabbing all of her personal effects and her carbine she had leaned on the wall. After checking the chamber, she started to clean it. The Model 47X1 general-purpose carbine was a weapon she had with her ever since she left Novatus all those years ago; it still worked even to this day as a dependable, lightweight, general-purpose weapon. With a 30.5-centimeter barrel and a 1-in-12 rifling twist, folding, collapsible stock, and a custom-tuned trigger she had installed recently; It was an accurate, well-built weapon. After removing the upper receiver by sliding out four captive pins, she slid the entire carrier assembly out of the bottom of the upper portion after pushing a detent button on the inner side of the receiver wall towards the front. She examined the machined block of Titanium-Iridium alloyed metal, which appeared clean, except for the front faces of the bolt and the carrier block. After she undid the cam pin, she slid the titanium-nickel alloy firing pin out of the back and frowned when she realized it was all gunked up. She went about cleaning the weapon, applying lubricant, and dropping everything back in place. After reassembling the carbine she peeked out of a window on seeing a pair of headlights pulling into the alleyway. Kara sprung into action; picking up a loaded detachable box magazine from her vest, which she had sitting on a chair near her. After loading it into the mag well of her carbine, she waited for them to open the door.
The side door to the Garage opened, and the trespassing party froze. "Easy, Chica. It's me."
"Ramon?"
"Si. I figured since I owed you a favor, I'd do it myself."