First Reply Entanglements

[Amos Bel]

Core Worlds
Bastion's Tide Station

"Shit shit shit." Amos said as he ran as fast as he could. His steps thundering against the bulkhead as dozens of people quickly stepped out of his way, some spewing expletives and others calling shouts of simple surprise.

"Sorry!" Paw had always said to be polite even if you were in the wrong. "Pardon me, 'scuse me, pardon me!"

As he rushed forward shouts echoed out behind him, some calling to stop him, others echoing as they threatened death and torture. Each of the men, and one woman, were in the employ of the Local Scuz Bricker. The man, a Rodian, liked to call himself a fixer but he was truthfully more of a trash compactor. Hording as much as he could and never letting it go unless scrapped away.

Amos had done a job for him, fair and square, and the bastard had tried to pay only half. A situation which the Smuggler had found rather objectionable. He'd objected, of course, and been rebuffed almost immediately. Thus Amos had no choice but to rectify the situation on his own regard. Though unfortunately, it seemed that Bricker hadn't agreed with his method of acquiring full payment.

That was why he was running across this massive hub of a station, doing his best to lose himself in the teeming crowds.

Behind him the shouts grew a bit more distant, slowly lost among the markets throng.

Amos cut to a sudden left, shifting and letting his boots scrape against the ground as he turned and moved into an alleyway. His fingers grasping onto the bricked edge stone as he practically dragged himself into the small durasteel alcove. Chest heaving up and down as he pressed himself behind a nearby trash compactor. Amos splayed himself as flat as he could and then simply waited, watching as the goons that had been chasing him slowly began to walk by.

 

[Arris Windrun]

Arris just happened to be in the area. Sure, she noticed the commotion, but didn't think twice about it. What was it to her that someone was being chased, threatened? A whole lotta nothing, really... and besides, she only came out here for a smoke.

The cyborg leaned over a ledge from her high point and looked down at the sight, then lit her cigarette. She drew big, the kind of pull taken after a very long and stressful day. It felt fifty-fifty whether she should ruin their day or his.

She whistled sharply to get their attention, just as one diligent goon seemed poised to check behind the trash compactor.

"Hey, he went that way!"

One metal finger pointed at a barely traversible crevice between two buildings. If they meant to catch whoever it was, they would have to wrap around the buildings and find him on the other side. Of course, she knew well enough he had squeezed behind the trash compactor instead.

The scoundrel waited until they left and until he emerged. Then, she'd drop down from her little ledge in the alley.

Amos Bel

 

[Amos Bel]

The Smuggler remained remarkably still as the call of someone's voice echoed out above him. His gaze flickered upward, fingers tensing as he reached towards the blaster holstered on the small of his back.

Instead of ratting him out though, she called out in false witness.

Amos couldn't help the grin that spread across his lips. In his experience it wasn't often a pretty face often turned out to be helpful. More than half the time it ended up being the opposite. This time though, it seemed fate had fallen in his favor, and as the goon squad pulled themselves away in the opposite direction Amos let his hand drop away from the handle of his blaster.

"Well ain't that fine of ya." He complemented as he took a few step backs as the woman dropped down, letting his fingers float still near his belt.

It wasn't often, or nearly ever that a stranger was actually helpful for no reason.

Talking about those experiences again, it was more often than not that a helpful stranger turned out to be a harmful tagalong. Not that he would necessarily mind this one. She looked like she could handle herself, and if Bricker's goons decided to turn around it might be a good plan to have a decent shield.

Plus, she wasn't bad to look at, and what he'd taken from the scuzz would be hard enough to get rid of on his own.

 

[Arris Windrun]

Arris took a few slow steps towards him, with a pair of iron-heavy holsters on each hip. Though her hands stayed far away from them, at least by a gunslinger's standards.

"Oh, I could shake you down yet," she teased.

She looked down the path where the goons had left, then back to him.

"They'll probably send someone to double back - you've maybe got a minute."

Then, a thought occurred. "Say... you don't happen to be the freelancing type, yeah? Just guessing given the sitch and all...

"If you follow me, I know a good spot to lay low, as long as you don't mind inhaling some sulfur."

Wasn't kind on 'ganic lungs, which wasn't a problem Arris experienced with a pair of artificial replacements, but even if he was regular human meat, it should be fine. For a little while. The blonde cyborg turned and walked that way; whether or not Amos decided to follow was up to him. They could walk and talk or part ways.

Of course, she had no idea what it was they were looking for. Seemed beyond her to ask, for now. After all, places like this? People got into shit every single day.

Amos Bel

 

[Amos Bel]

"I've smelled worse." It wasn't exactly true, but work in the shop long enough and you spent some time breathing exhaust. Strip of cloth would keep him alive long enough to stop any serious worry.

Probably.

"Freelance is a nice way of putting it." The Smuggler said as he began to take a step towards her, his fingers drawing away only slightly. Trust was a thin, thin thing in this kind of place. She could very well still decide to cut his throat the moment that he stepped too close. Least he could do was ready to get a shot off. "I prefer entrepreneur."

Amos winked. "More business 'like."

Puttin' on airs was always favorable.

"Why don't you lead the way, Darlin'." He drawled, motioning towards the direction she had indicated. Clearly eager to get away from here. There was an almost exact certainty that those goons would double back, and he wasn't going to be around for when they did. "I'd rather the Sulfur than whatever hell else is reekin' here."

Convenient human shield, acquired. At least for a little while,

 

[Arris Windrun]

"Entrepreneur, huh?" She said with a look over her shoulder.

The cyborg led the curious 'entrepreneur' through the crowd of spacers and denizens, and chuckled a little at his quip. Yeah, the station wasn't exactly the most pleasant place. Odors had nowhere to go, and air filters only got worse with time. Overdue for maintenance, no doubt.

Finally, they arrived at the place - it was just like she said, sulfur dioxide filtered through the air vents for species that breathed it without an enviro suit. Suffice it to say, she and Amos were the only human-looking ones in there. For Arris, cybernetic augmentations meant she hadn't noticed a difference. Amos, on the other hand, might find it rather difficult and painful to breathe, but not immediately dangerous. Unless he had a trick up his sleeve.

She led them to a back room, where it would just be the two of them.

"So," she took a seat, "Theft or insult? What do they want you for?"

Amos Bel

 

[Amos Bel]

No tricks.

Not when it came to breathing. By the time Arris turned back to look at him Amos was holding a cloth over his nose and trying not to breath. The ache was already creeping in, and he figured the less he breathed the better it would be. "Neither."

Not exactly the truth, but who cared.

"Nobody likes paying their debts, but everyone's gotta." Talking, usually, meant that one had to breath. A fact that he was quickly learning about as he was forced to take in some of the current atmosphere. The ache in his chest turned into pain, and he half curled into himself almost comical. "Kriff me."

He breathed quietly. "You sure know how to pick a place, eh?"

Amos joked