EDGERUNNER

LOCATION: Sakhet’s Noodles - Denon
TIME: -redacted-
TAG:

Denon was never quiet. Sure that might be annoying to some, but to others it was paradise. Quiet places made it difficult to hide. They were boring and often did not offer any kind of adventure, thrill, and good credits. Noise was exciting, but that did not make it easy to stand out for any kind of work without some kind of connection. It wasn’t safe either, but safety was overrated. On a planet like Denon it was kill or be killed, and that was on a good day. Crime was high, but it paid, and everyone wanted a piece of the action.
That’s where fixers came in. Anyone who was anyone had some kind of handler or fixer finding them work. Naturally all the better jobs were hard to come by, but even the small guys figured out how to scrape up enough to work to keep food on the table and credits in their account. The best ones found jobs large enough to retire young and stay alive a little bit longer than most of the poor saps trying to do the same. It was luck mostly, and knowing the right people, but still mostly luck. It was the way of the world.
There seemed to be only a couple of rules most honored. The first was don’t screw the fixer. Anyone who wanted work needed a good source of jobs, and making the fixer unhappy was not the way to go about keeping a steady supply. The second was don’t let the fixer screw you. It happened, sure. Fixers always wanted their take, and sometimes the greedy ones got away with it. It was a quick way to lose a reliable talent pool, so both sides of the party played nice. It was the thing that kept the machine moving.
“Listen here, Natsu, you said this job was exclusive, so care to explain why I find some gonk trying to cash in on what was supposed to be my big score?”
Sometimes, fixers just did what they wanted to anyway. It was a gamble, but who was going to off their income stream.
Pulse was upset, but he was not stupid. Natsu did not seemed phased by the question, and silently continued dishing up a bowl of his house special. Not many would suspect the owner and chef of a noodle house to be one of the best fixers on the planet, but he was. There was more to him than met the eye, and the jobs he got his hands on, few could explain where they came from. Whatever his resources were, Natsu could do whatever he wanted, and everyone knew it.
“Number 1 house special. Fresh.”
The bowl was sat before Pulse only in a way the Atrisian cyborg could manage. There was a culture of honor and respect among those people that most street urchins like Impulse would never understand, but he could respect it at least. He just chuckled and started eating the noodles.
“I don’t get it. It’s not like I actually completed the job, but you paid me for it anyway. Not that I’m complaining about that or anything. I just don’t get it.”
“Sometimes work is not actually work. I needed to test a theory so I gave the same job to two of you.”
Pulse shook his head. “You could have told me I had competition.”
“Not competition. I was simply arranging a meeting. She should be by shortly. Stay, finish noodles.”
Pulse just chuckles and paid attention to the bowl in front of him. If Natsu was arranging some kind of meeting or if it was set up, he did not know. At this point, Pulse was simply curious and it was getting the better of him. Whoever this gal was she had gotten the better of him, something that was no easy task. He wanted to know who it was and how they managed to pull it off.
That’s where fixers came in. Anyone who was anyone had some kind of handler or fixer finding them work. Naturally all the better jobs were hard to come by, but even the small guys figured out how to scrape up enough to work to keep food on the table and credits in their account. The best ones found jobs large enough to retire young and stay alive a little bit longer than most of the poor saps trying to do the same. It was luck mostly, and knowing the right people, but still mostly luck. It was the way of the world.
There seemed to be only a couple of rules most honored. The first was don’t screw the fixer. Anyone who wanted work needed a good source of jobs, and making the fixer unhappy was not the way to go about keeping a steady supply. The second was don’t let the fixer screw you. It happened, sure. Fixers always wanted their take, and sometimes the greedy ones got away with it. It was a quick way to lose a reliable talent pool, so both sides of the party played nice. It was the thing that kept the machine moving.
“Listen here, Natsu, you said this job was exclusive, so care to explain why I find some gonk trying to cash in on what was supposed to be my big score?”
Sometimes, fixers just did what they wanted to anyway. It was a gamble, but who was going to off their income stream.
Pulse was upset, but he was not stupid. Natsu did not seemed phased by the question, and silently continued dishing up a bowl of his house special. Not many would suspect the owner and chef of a noodle house to be one of the best fixers on the planet, but he was. There was more to him than met the eye, and the jobs he got his hands on, few could explain where they came from. Whatever his resources were, Natsu could do whatever he wanted, and everyone knew it.
“Number 1 house special. Fresh.”
The bowl was sat before Pulse only in a way the Atrisian cyborg could manage. There was a culture of honor and respect among those people that most street urchins like Impulse would never understand, but he could respect it at least. He just chuckled and started eating the noodles.
“I don’t get it. It’s not like I actually completed the job, but you paid me for it anyway. Not that I’m complaining about that or anything. I just don’t get it.”
“Sometimes work is not actually work. I needed to test a theory so I gave the same job to two of you.”
Pulse shook his head. “You could have told me I had competition.”
“Not competition. I was simply arranging a meeting. She should be by shortly. Stay, finish noodles.”
Pulse just chuckles and paid attention to the bowl in front of him. If Natsu was arranging some kind of meeting or if it was set up, he did not know. At this point, Pulse was simply curious and it was getting the better of him. Whoever this gal was she had gotten the better of him, something that was no easy task. He wanted to know who it was and how they managed to pull it off.
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