Private There is Always a Bigger Fish

[Mirax]

|| Free Trade Sector
|| Morelani System
|| Ferrix
Dash Colton

72 hours after this chit-show began…

“Feth!”

Mirax gave a bloody curse, lips pursing in displeasure as she braced her back against the durasteel cargo crate, ducking her head to avoid getting a sizzling blaster hole in it.

“This is all your karking fault, Colton!” Mirax, snarled, her brown eyes flickering a slight teletale gold of the threat of her rage levels rising. Not that she’d turn into some creepy light stick-wielding fiend. Oh no, this was a more turbulent matter. The wildcat loomed in the precarious distance. And right now, her focus is on Dash.

Three days. It only took three days for this Oolotan Carnival ride to go from bad to worse. It was supposed to be an easy job. Now they were pinned in this salvage yard being chased by the Pre-Mor Authority.

Yup. This was all HIS fault!

 

[Dash Colton]

Mirax

"My fault?!?!?!" he exclaimed as much as asked, as he wasn't particularly to keen on hearing her response, what with the blaster fire sizzling by his ear.

Not the hat! he yelled internally, pushing it down with his left hand a bit tighter, ensuring his trusty companion was still there and intact.

Peering over the rubble, he returned fire with a few shots, though they were more pot shots than anything else. The enemy had the high ground, they had cover, and all Dash had was what may have once been a ships sink to take cover behind, his trusty blaster, and one extremely irritated, nagging partner.

"You were the one with the map!" he returned fire, not with his blaster this time, but with his words, "and last I checked, there was no salvage yard on the map!" he exclaimed, peering ever so slightly over the sink, and firing off a few more shots.

A quick scan of his surroundings, trying to come up with options on how to get them out of their precarious circumstances.

Should have taken the other job, he mused to himself.

 

[Mirax]

A grimace tore over Mirax's lips, annoyed as all feth that Dash Colton reminded her of that one tiny little detail with the map. That's the thing. It didn't make sense. They had been given the job of picking up a drop off by Cheva Tek, a local black market dealer in Ferrix City. He needed an extra pair of hands to ensure the trade went well. Black case, unmarked, pay the credits, grab the goods, use the local transport to get off-world, and deliver it to the buyer on Nar Shadda. It was either that or find a way to go to Morlana One and deal with the Preox Morlana for a different pick up. Not one to want to deal with metal and corps; it seemed like the better deal.

Cheva needed two unknowns. Someone not connected to the community. Mirax learned of the job after dropping off goods to Cheva, while Dash, well... that was a whole other story. She should have known this would be more trouble than it was worth.

"Maybe if you hadn't decided to flirt with that blonde at the cantina last night, your ugly mug wouldn't have been easily identified by her Pre-Mor boyfriend!" The altercation had resulted in fisticuffs, getting thrown out of the cantina, and dropping her beer. Mirax had been livid.

Chit, they had to think quickly.

Salvage yard at their back. Corps at their front. Scanning the distance, she saw several tower cranes and hoists, pulling up the innards of a damaged imperial starship and decommissioned ships. Maybe they could lose them in that maze. Find a way out. Local transport was likely now out of picture. Wait. There was a pause, and Mirax's eyes narrowed upon the distant trawl haulers flying from the yard off-world.

Just maybe...

"You still got the box?" that was the critical bit. They could not lose it now. Breathing hard, she whipped her head over to him, her probing gaze making sure he still had his head and the item.

 

[Dash Colton]

Mirax

Of course she would blame it on me, he mused to himself, unable to contain the rolling of his eyes. As if this was all his fault. She wasn't there, she didn't know what was going on...

Wait a minute...

A foolish grin found it's way to his face, recounting the prior nights events for a moment.

"You mean... you mean she was flirting back with me?" he asked, a brief smile on his face, though it did not last long, as a blaster bolt sizzling by his right ear brought him back to the now and present.

He tucked in a bit lower in cover, pulling his hat down for good measure, before snapping back a few shots. A quick check of his blaster pack had him questioning just how many shots he had left.

"Of course I got the box!" he snapped back, reaching into his right pocket... nothing.

Left front pocket... also nothing.

Chit, where did I....

Thankfully his inside right jacket pocket proved to be more fruitful, as he pulled out the box, followed by an "A HA!", reassuring them both, he did in fact have the box.

"Told you I have the box..." he quipped, putting it back in his breast jacket pocket for safe keeping.

"You still have the tickets, right? Tell me you still have the tickets?" he asked.

Sith help them both if she didn't.

 

[Mirax]

There was an obnoxiously exaggerated roll of Mirax's eyes when Dash Colton had to act like a foolish idiot and hum and hah about Por-Mor's girlfriend flirting with him.

"Is that really what you want to gorram focus on right now?!" she couldn't believe that Dash could be so distracted -- no, wait, after the hell they've gone through the past three days, I can blasted well, believe it.

Dash had the attention span of a Wild Space miner in Hologram Fun World after two years of sobriety with plenty of credits to spare when it came to skirt-chasing. She didn't need to know him that long to peg him as the sort to make the job go south for thinking with his hands rather than his head.

"Of course, I karkin' well have the tickets!" she yelled out, whipping her head over to look at him only to jerk right back as another series of blaster shots scored burn marks on her cover.

At least, I think so, she mused. A frantic alarm went, padding her left hand over the large overcoat pockets. I had them tucked in -- Dread came as each check came empty. It took a second to finally realize that the coat she wore was not her own. She'd taken the wrong one!

"Oh fuck" the curse ripped from her mouth. Flashbacks of the past came back, rearing their ugly head. In the chaos of getting thrown out of the cantina, the bouncer had thrown her the wrong coat.

"SHIT! It's still at the cantina!"