First Reply The Blade

[Millie]

THE BLADE
The Night Markets, Freehold
​

Beneath the churning ports and pirate palaces of the surface, the Night Market raged on. Bright and brilliant as ever, the sentient detritus of the Galaxy flocked to spend their ill-gotten gains on trinkets, baubles and food of questionable origin.

That night, Millie was no different. Flush with money after a decent score, she'd treated herself to some 'Meat On A Stick,' which was proving to be pretty damn tasty, so long as she didn't think about where it'd come from too much. The spices clung to the air, fragrant and sweet and alive. The chatter and laughter of so many others proving a perfect cover, as Millie moved away from the food stalls towards the trinkets. Here, half-a-hundred petty junk traders suddenly came alive, hoping for a new customer. Or victim.

"Girl! Girl! Look here, bracelets, osmium lined-"

"Earrings! Jewels from crystal caves of most saaaaacred worlds-"

"Charms and amulets, protect you and yours from the dark hordes-"

A bunch of bull, as per usual. Millie finished her skewer and slid the remnants behind a stall, casting it from her mind. Wondering what thing she could treat herself to. Her eyes fell upon a familiar sight, as if by instinct. Or some sort of pull.

"Millie!" the owner called out, beckoning her over, "what a chance! What a sight!"

"Yeah yeah, can it Rym, what're you fencin' now?" she replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, only the finest in Mid-Rim luxuries, Millie. Ones that someone like you deserves after a hard day's work. See!" he said, beckoning out towards his stall. Various items twinkled in the light, uniformly uninteresting. Nothing stood out to her. But there was still that pull. That tingle.

"What's that?" Millie asked, noticing a box behind the counter. The stall holder winced a little.

"Ah, Millie, I'm afraid it's... not for sale."

"Why?"

"I'... I'm holding it."

"For who?" Rym gave her an exasperated stare, which made her snicker. "'Kay, don't answer then. Keep your dumb secrets." Millie turned, as if uninterested.

"Don't be getting ideas about it!" Rym yelled in vain, as Millie smirked over her shoulder.

"Promise. You can trust me!" Millie lied, beaming at him as she schemed to steal his box.

 

[Kano Stone]

Kano sat within the spice den church lounging upon a luxurious pillow of the finest silk. Spiritual incense rid the air of foul spirits as it burned within hanging jars, releasing it's sweet acrid stench into the room and mixing with the spice vapour. A dozen followers of Ashla sat upon their knees or resting on pillows praying to the force.

Kano's arm was outstretched and a man gripped hold it tightly with one hand while with the other he used a ink laser to etch the ritual mark into Kano's flesh. The room was lit by a single hanging flickering fluorescent which constantly emited a dull hum. Newspaper covered the windows and trash littered the floor. Occasionally ash would fall from the incense above marring the expensive Essonian carpet that lie there. As the shaman finished his work Kano stood and admired the new scar.

He smiled a wolfish grin that bellied true happiness. "Ashla be praised.." He thanked the monk.

"Go in peace my son.." The monk spake in hoarse whispers, years of smoke having permanently damaged his vocal chords.

Kano stepped into the armory and dawned his power armor. Stepping into the soles of the shell he waited as it absconded around his lithe frame. He reached for the horned helmet resting upon the rack and placed it upon his head with a snap hiss of steam. His hands instinctively grabbed hold the scatter gun and caressed it with a lovers familiarity.

Placing the sawed off on his mag holster he headed out into the bright city lights, giving the doorman a solemn nod as he did so. Exiting into the street immediately assaulted him with a plethora of city life. A hundred different languages haggling for bargains. While the smells of just as many planets seeped through his air ventilation. Something from the Ashla called to him in this place. He had gone to his local monastery to enhance his connection, but still, he felt just as unawares as before...

Millie

 

[Millie]

THE BLADE
The Night Markets, Freehold
​

Millie slipped out of sight of the stall very quickly. Luckily enough, some poor rube had fallen into Rym's trap. Safely distracted in his attempts to sell gaudy goods to some unfortunate stranger, Millie could work her magic. If the box'd been locked away, that would've been simple enough. Millie had the skills to crack most of them, particularly electronic ones, but no. It was just hidden in plain sight. Which called for something a little flashier.

It didn't take long to formulate a few ideas. Keeping out of view, mixed in with the crowds and stalls, her eyes barely left Rym's stall. Fingers drifting over different products, feigning an interest in anything. Her hand dipped carefully into a bag of spices, lifting a palmful as the trader talked prices with another customer. A fizzy drink came next, followed by some firework blast powder... a few other things...

Didn't take long before Millie had a spice-laced firework in her hand. With a twist, she lit the makeshift fuse. Rolled it towards Rym's cart from behind another. Someone kicked it, the ball slapping off some boots as Millie's eyes widened. It careened away, then swatted back towards Rym, rolling away from the front, towards the corner...

BANG!

It exploded in a cloud of orange-red spice, staining everything round that corner. His wares were a waste on that side, sure, but it wasn't much of a-

SNAAAP!

With the force of the explosion, the corner of his stall had snapped and cracked, sending the whole thing collapsing round it. His wares spilled across the stained street, in a tangle of credits and baubles and who knew what else. Rym screamed in shock, watching his precious opportunities roll out across the market. So focused on grabbing what he could, tripping over his own coat as he did...

That he didn't notice Millie slipping around the back. Silent. Careful. Quickly. Like a flash, she was back there. The box stared at her. Something inside her called out, reached out. She needed the box. Slender fingers took hold and whipped it back, before she scurried away and into the crowds of the market. Feeling something tug inside her at whatever was in the box.

Kano Stone

 

[Kano Stone]

Kano meandered among the stalls with arms gently swaying by his side. His hands ran the length of the markets touching things with a distant attention. Purveyors spoke of the wares to him with the zeal of the deal, the art of the sale, but he paid none of them any heade and when they realized the man was lost in some kind of strange trance they awkwardly shifted their eyes to the next customer or shouted at Kano to leave.

A pickpocket sought to take advantage of the seemingly oblivious man, but as grubby little fingers traced the length of pockets they'd find very little. Kano ignored them all. The Ashla sang to him in a symphony of bells. Like wind chimes in a great breeze. A whisper upon the wind that was to loud to go unnoticed. He heard the sirens and answered their call. Felt the tug of the Ocean pulling him to the Great Oak.

The Whispers grew almost deafining. Then, his saint appeared. "Beware the blade, give it to the stray, let it light their way.." An orchestra played into such beautiful crescendos. Kano wept beneath his mask. Louder with each encroaching step. He knew the light guided his course. Almost to much to bear he was sure his eardrums must've burst.

BANG!

Kano snapped to attention as a small firework went off. Wares went spilling everywhere as the store table came crashing down. Kano slipped upon a few baubles and hit the ground hard.

"You break it, you buy it!" Cried the mart worker, but Kano ignored him as he spied a girl sneak through the crowd to grab something he couldn't quite make out. The lullaby ceased as her fingers wrapped tightly round her prize then darted away. He got to his feet and prepared to give chase. This was why he had come. He was sure of it.

 

[Millie]

THE BLADE
The Night Markets, Freehold
​

The commotion of the spice-bomb masked Millie's escape. Or at least, it seemed that way. Enough chaos and mess around the collapsing stalls that nobody would be looking for one sneaky girl. With the box tucked under her arm, she made her way through the markets. Past the cantinas. Through the crowds. Unless someone had kept their eye on her, it'd be hard to track though the crowds and the dark, twisting streets.

When she thought she was safe, she slipped into an alleyway. Time to find out why Rym was being so cagey about his latest find. You think he'd use a better lock, we are on Freehold. It took barely half a minute for Millie to wheedle the lock open, lifting the top and peering inside. A mess of papers, fluttering a little in the breeze. What looked like a badge, maybe from some distant planet? A few credits, which she pocketed quick as a flash. And...

Huh. What's this?

The sound of Freehold disappeared around her as she touched the last object. Her fingers wrapped around the strange, metal tube, utterly unlike anything she'd seen before. Smooth, light and strange. Compelled, Millie lifted it from the box and held it in front of her, frowning. Goose-pimples ran all over her body. Whispers tickled at her mind. Wordless. Incessant. Cloying.

What in the world...

It took her a few more seconds to realise she'd stopped breathing. The rest of the box slipped away as she sat there, in the alleyway, staring at an object long lost.

Kano Stone