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She and her team rappel off the Aerodyne after the ship makes an initial strafing round of gunfire with its gatlings, shattering the floor to ceiling windows in explosions of glass and flying bits of cement. She and her team swing in, her combat helmet's faceplate protecting her from the billowing dust and asbestos of the wrecked office. Dead and dying Corpos crawled on the ground, riddled with bullets. Klaxons rang out.

EMERGENCY. EMERGENCY. CODE RED. SECURITY PERSONNEL, REPORT TO FLOOR 50 IMMEDIATELY. NON-SECURITY PERSONNEL, PLEASE EVACUATE THE BUILDING.

She moved in with her team, shooting and killing any Security troopers that happened to be on that floor, before kicking down Zeus's office doors while the rest of the team engaged in a firefight.

He stared at her from across his ornate desk of real-wood. Mahogany. Flanked by two Zaibatsu Samurai, chromed and hulking.

"Who the fuck are you?" He barked, more angry than scared at the mess she's made of his little kingdom.

"You seriously don't remember? You piece of shit. Look at them. Fucking look at them as you die." She says, lopping off the heads of Zeus's bodyguards with a single flick of her monowire before shoving the faded photo into his face. "You and your men shot them dead. At least fucking remember that before I give you permission to die."

He looks to his right, then to his left, his men laying in pools of spurting blood. Then back at the photo. Eyes wide with fear. The acrid stench of ammonia wafts through the air as he evacuates, the piss running down his legs. "Ok. Alright. You've made your point. You want money? How much? H-how much you want? Name your price. Hell, I can give you the whole fucking city."

She pistol whips him with her revolver, sending a tooth flying. "I want you to remember them, and what you did."

He spits out some blood, coughs. "F-fuck! You're psycho, lady! I don't know who the fuck these guys are, alright!? C'mon... let me go and I'll set you up for life. I got contacts, hands in every pocket in this fuckin' city. I'll make some calls... you can rule over it all-"

BLAM.

His head rocks back against his leather-backed hair, eyes roll up and show bloodshot whites.

She pulls the trigger a few more times, watching his limp body convulse with each impact, fresh holes oozing crimson in his chest. Fires again at his head, and again, till his face is no more recognizable than synthetic protein paste.

...

In a rundown motel room out in the desert, she sits on a rickety chair, whiskey bottle on a faux-wood table. She drinks, and she cries, faded photograph laying on the table.

Killing the bastard, after all these years... didn't bring them back. Didn't make her feel any better. Made her feel empty inside, in fact. She'd lived her life fixated on vengeance the past few years.

But it was something that had to be done, and she could finally put this behind her. New bounties awaited, and Davis and the others in her little mercenary outfit of Hunters were waiting for her. She'd leave this dustbowl of a planet for good, and not look back, having severed her last remaining ties to the place, where she once had a family, and where her old self died.

...