In the dark of the night. Ozul had taken Dalton to a sketchy gas station on Earth.

A cabal of police cars passed them as gunshots roared in the distance. Under a flickering light near the convenience store, a man was bleeding out, holding his stomach where a knife had been planted.

Dalton turned to Ozul. "Why are we here?"

The black suited man pulled the cigarette from his mouth and blew a smoky cloud. "To get what's ours, Dalton."

Ozul didn't feel as uncomfortable as Dalton. In fact, he looked like he thrived in this situation. When the door to the convenience store barely slid open, Ozul dropped the cigarette and crushed it.

"Look alive. That's our man."

The guy they were meeting looked like a truck driver. He stopped at the bleeding man, pulling the knife out of him, and wiped the blood using the dying man's pant leg. Then he holstered it on his side.

"Did this guy just pull his knife out of the dying man?" Dalton leaned to whisper to Ozul.

"Shut up! Just don't talk about that! We're only here to do business!" Ozul said in a hushed tone.

"I feel the need to talk about it, because we just witnessed the murderer coming back for his weapon!"

"I said shut up! We need- Hello, Mr. Trucker." Ozul held out his hand.

The truck driver took a dismissive glance at his hand. "Do you have my money?"

"Yes, well, my subordinate-"

"Co-worker." Dalton corrected, he took out an envelope filled with money. "I have it here."

"Gimme." He held out his hand.

"Before I give it, I'd like to ask what I'm giving this money for." Dalton eyed Ozul. "My co-worker here hasn't told me what I'm even paying for."

"Is that right." The trucker sighed. "Fine, let me give you the run down. You give me money, and I transport a better client it you. Simple as that. Now give me my money."

He reached to snatch it, but Dalton pulled the money back. "I'm not done yet."

"Well, I'm getting done with this right now." He pulled out his knife. "How about I stab you and take my money!"

"That's enough Mr. Trucker." Ozul snatched the envelope from Dalton. Then he whispered to Dalton. "Stop fucking this up." Then he turned around to Trucker and handed him the money. "I apologize about my subordinate-"

"Co-worker."

"-he still doesn't know how to play the game. It's his very first day here."

"Your first day you say." Trucker snorted. He crossed his arms, speaking in a tone of nostalgia. "I remember my first day. I was tasked with running over some fat man. You know, you never think about it, but do you know how hard it is to run over a fat man? How much of a mess it is? How much blood a human body contains? When I ran him over, he popped like some balloon. His blood and guts rained down. His skin got stuck in the grill. I found one his tooth lodged in one of my tires."

"Oh my god. Why did you run over somebody with a truck?"

The two of them looked at each other. "Does he not know how any of this works?"

"Again, new. He's a baby chick."

Trucker shrugged. "Well, my first day was nice."

"That doesn't seem nice at all!" Dalton retorted.

"I don't need to explain anything to you. I got my money. I'll do my part."

Before Trucker left, he went to the dying man again, and took a few stabs at him. Then he leapt in his truck and backed up on the man. Dalton turned to Ozul.

"Did we just hire a killer?"

"He will bring the goods. Don't you worry your silly head about it." Ozul's wrist terminal beeped. "Oh, I've got a new client, check him out."

It was the guy that Trucker just killed.