First Reply What Are You In For

[Nadi]

She had to steady herself with a palm against the elevator wall, screwing her eyes shut and breathing slowly as she closed off her connection to all the minds that were now screaming in alarm further and further below them.

<Never gets any karking easier.>

By the time they were halfway up, she'd managed to straighten up and lifted her eyes to find Til staring at her.

"What, did I get something on my face?"

His wasn't an uncommon reaction to witnessing her durability. Those shots should have burned clean through her palm and killed them both, but they didn't have time for explanations right now.

"There will be more waiting at the top, and I can't keep them complacent like I did below."

She was too mentally spent to manage the necessary finesse like she had a moment ago; and even if she weren't, the guards waiting for them at the end of this ride were already on alert, their minds all but bypassing the subconscious as they readied for imminent conscious action.

But raw physical strength? She still had that in spades. She moved to collect both of the fallen guards still in the lift with them, gripping the backs of their uniforms just below the neck, and then stood in front of Til, right where the door was going to open.

"Hopefully you're a good negotiator. Let's see what you can do with two hostages."

She knew he could talk, he'd done little else in the cell down below, and now was his chance to prove it was more than just empty words.

The thought of leaving him and just bolting for a ship as soon as the doors opened did occur to her, but this place would almost certainly have air support on standby for just such an event as this; and while she could fly well enough, she wasn't a pilot. She was only as confident as she was in the Ronto because of familiarity, heavy shields, and big guns.

The elevator dinged and she hoisted the guards up in front of them, holding them side by side, one in each hand. They were lucky the first few shots from their comrades were stun-bolts, and they twitched briefly as each hit landed before the firing cut off to the tune of a shouted command.

<Good. That means they considered the hostage angle and don't want their men dead.>

It gave them a chance.

A brief glance past the unconscious shields revealed a single ship in the large hangar, and all they had to do was reach it. Well... reach it and then fly it out of here without getting shot down, but that was Til's job. Hers was just to keep these hostages nice and present while he talked them out of here then did the flying.

Til Melarr​

 

[Til Melarr]

Til peered past the twitching meat shields, his golden facial tattoos twisting into a slow, wicked grin as he took in the hangar. A dozen blasters pointed right at his head, a dozen twitchy guards, and a sweet, heavy-bellied freighter sitting on the pad like a prize waiting to be claimed. In order to get out of this Jam, he would need to put on his best performance yet.

"Drop your weapons and release the officers!" a voice boomed over the intercom. He simply scoffed at such a command stepping slightly to the side so the guards had a full view of his stolen uniform and the weapon he was carrying. He cleared his throat loudly making show of casually resting his elbow on one of Nadi floating human shields.

"Are you serious? That's your opening line?" Til hollered back, his voice echoing across the hangar deck with pure amusement.

"Look at what you're dealing with here, boys! You've got two of your finest held up like laundry by a woman who eats blaster bolts for breakfast, and you've got me, Til Melarr! Smuggler, legend, and the worst nightmare this hole has ever seen!" He tapped the side of his loose helmet, flashing a wide grin toward the front line of guards.

"Here's how this works," Til declared, poking the barrel of his rifle out toward the freighter's boarding ramp. "You're going to hold your fire, step away from my ship, and thank your lucky stars you get to tell your kids you were alive the day Til Melarr hijacked Golrath Prison. Shoot at us, and my lovely associate here uses these two as bowling balls to clear the runway." He gave Nadi a subtle nudge with his hip, keeping his voice loud enough for the whole room to hear.
​

 

[Nadi]

"Keep close."

Her voice was pitched low enough that only Til could hear it, and she started moving forward cautiously, shifting left once they were out of the lift to circle around the outside of the assembled guards and keep the two hostages between them. The guard's rifles tracked them as they moved, but it seemed none of them wanted to be the one who killed their co-workers and no shots were fired. Even stun bolts could kill if there were enough of them.

<Honestly, I'm a little surprised this is working so well. Maybe one of these kriffs is an officer...>

It was as good an explanation as any. She was just glad there was something keeping them from blasting the chit out of their hostages. Didn't much care what it was, as long as it worked.

The tension remained thick the entire trip across the hangar, the assembled guards trying to get an opening for a shot without drawing too much attention or maybe just hoping her arms would get too tired to keep the shields aloft, but neither happened. At least not before they reached the ship.

She could hear one of the guards on comms with what she assumed was the fighters that would no doubt be pursuing them once they took off, relaying the state of current events. Once they reached the ship, Til dropped the ramp and headed inside while she stepped backwards onto it and raised her voice.

"These men will be released alive and well once we're clear of the system. Try anything, and they die."

Whether they believed that or not was up for debate, and would determine whether or not the air support decided to engage. It would be nice if they called it off, but if they thought she'd kill the men regardless the air support would come in guns blazing, and if they thought she wouldn't kill them no matter what it was still going to be ion cannons. It all rested on whether or not they would take her at her word.

She was halfway up the ramp when she swung one of the hostages to the side, using his shoulder to hit the controls to close it up. The motion gave one especially enterprising young guard just enough space for a shot, and he snapped off a bolt right between the shields that struck Nadi in the shoulder with enough impact to knock her off-balance and send her and the hostages tumbling to the freighter's deck as the ramp snapped shut.

She could hear a brief cheer from outside even as she felt (and heard) the engines begin to rumble, and the cheers died out quickly when they realized the shot hadn't actually saved anyone and had possibly doomed their friends.

<Kark.>

This did make it more likely the air support would assume the hostages were dead already.

Til Melarr​

 

[Til Melarr]

The dull thunk of a blaster bolt hitting Nadi shoulder echoed up the ramp, followed by the heavy crash of her and two full-grown guards tumbling onto the deck plates in a tangled mess. From outside the closing ramp, a brief, muffled cheer erupted from the garrison. Til's head snapped toward the hold, his golden facial tattoos twitching beneath his loose helmet.

"Oh, sure, cheer it up, you amateurs!" Til yelled back at the sealed blast doors, his voice dripping with dramatic outrage. "She took that on purpose! It's called strategy!" He scrambled into the pilot's seat, slamming his hands against the console toggles to jumpstart the sublight engines.

The freighter's power core hummed to life, a low rumble vibrating through the deck plates beneath them. "You alright down there, sunshine?" Til called back over his shoulder, watching the hangar's outer blast shield slowly retract through the cockpit viewport.

"Because if you bleed out on my floor, I have to fly this thing alone, and I am far too important to do my own pre-flight checks!" He grabbed the joystick and push the thrusters to the maximum power they could handle without frying. The heavy freighter lurked off its pads, surging out of the hangar bay and into the atmosphere just as red laser fire began chewing up the rear shields.
​

 

[Nadi]

"I'm fine."

She could hear the laser fire impacting shields as she rose to her feet, shoving the weight of one of their hostages off her. This day just kept getting better and better.

<Kriffing amateurs. What the kark did they think they were accomplishing?>

Still angry as she stalked up to the cockpit, she worked on tamping it down and only had a little venom in her voice when she arrived behind Til. None of it distinctly aimed at him, but with them in the air now her own contributions to their escape would be much more limited. And she was still kriffed at that gorram karking idiot that had shot her last.

"Please tell me some good news. Like they're not following or that there's some guns on this tub."

She'd take either one, really. Not following was the best option, but blasting the kriff out of something would definitely be more cathartic. It would also help take her mind off the pain. She could feel her skin trying to regenerate from the six shots she'd taken, only for the fresh new nerve endings to be torn apart and used as material to rebuild the slight damage to the dermal armor beneath them.

It was an agony she'd become familiar with, and very far from the worst she'd experienced, but it was persistent. Though the itching she knew would follow was almost worse.

Til Melarr​

 

[Til Melarr]

Til glanced over his shoulder as Nadi stepped into the cockpit, her voice dripping with venom. He didn't have much time to dwell on her attitude as the freighter rumbled violently as a stray blaster bolt impacted the shields, eyes scanning the console for any sign that this bucket of bolts would make it away from the prison without crumbling into the Lava Pits below them.

"Well option one is out, as they are definitely following us." he said back fingers flying across the console toggles to maintain the thrusters at their maximum output though the steadily declining Shields cause him to sweat.

"Option two that's where you're in luck darling." he said with a soft smile, flipping the switch to send power to the guns, though there weren't many but enough to survive at least. He would point to the ladder behind the cockpit to lead up to the central gun, adjusting the targeting computer to accurately target the enemy closing in fast.

"I would recommend you start shooting now, otherwise we will be swimming with the sulfur down below. And I didn't bring a change of clothes for swimming activities." he said in a commanding tone to return the attitude she gave him earlier, and as a way to calm his nerves. He could see them on the display screen, 10 or more snub Fighters from the wardens personal guard. It will take a whole lot of fancy shooting and fancy flying to get them out of this mess but she was lucky she was with a living legend.
​

 

[Nadi]

She spun and all but leaped up the ladder, her feet touching only a single rung before she reached the gunner's seat and slid easily into it. She didn't bother with the straps, immediately gripping the controls as she spun the cannons around to bring the pursuing fighters into view.

There were nearly a dozen of them, which was more than she'd expected, but they were clumped too tightly together. None of them had paired off into the usual lead plus wingman formation you'd find in experienced squadrons, and she suspected these pilots didn't see a lot of action.

A grin split her lips as she squeezed the triggers, sending angry red bolts lancing into the lead fighter, who then careened into a wingman that should not have been that close.

<Two down.>

The others seemed to take the hint, and while they still didn't pair off, they did spread out enough to make another attempt at the same trick unlikely to succeed. She didn't much care though, and simply took aim at another as it banked to take up a new position. She felt time begin to slow as her focus narrowed, and she could all but see where the ship's trajectory would take it, her implants and her own mind going into overdrive. She'd probably pay for it later, but if the alternative was dying then kark that.

Her cannon crawled sluggishly across the sky outside the viewport as the fighter slowed considerably from the shift in her perception. The sounds of the ship around and below her pitched down several octaves and became drawn out, and now it was simply a matter of casually bringing the cannon into position and putting more blazing red energy blasts directly into its path.

<And that makes three.>

She watched it begin to explode in slow motion even as the cannon tracked toward the next target, and began the methodical process of spending the next ten minutes (...fifteen to forty seconds) swiveling the cannon from one fighter to the next as fast as its little motors could move it.

Til Melarr​

 

[Til Melarr]

Til's knuckles turned white on the steering column as the freighter rattled under the constant pounding, the shield display flashing an alarming crimson. On the tactical screen, bright red blips representing the warden's snub fighters were disappearing one by one in rapid, beautiful succession.

"Holy hell, darling!" Til yelled toward the ladder at Nadi , his face illuminated by a fresh explosion blooming outside the cockpit viewport.

"Are you aim-botting up there, or did you just decide to erase the warden's entire budget?!" He pulled hard on the flight stick, banking the heavy freighter through a plume of burning debris to clear her line of sight. The intercom crackled with the mechanical whine of the turret motor as another fighter disintegrated into a ball of plasma.

"Eight! Nine!" Til counted out loud, his signature smug grin returning full force as the last red marker flickered off the display screen.

"Alright, clear the deck! That's the last of the local reception committee!" He slapped the nav-computer into gear, the hyperspace calculations finally locking in with a satisfying, high-pitched chime. Til reached up and grabbed the hyperdrive levers, leaning back in his seat with all the effortless bravado of a man who had never doubted the outcome for a second.
​

 

[Nadi]

She watched the last of the fighters detonate in rolling fire that slowly expanded to consume it.

It was easy, she mused, to shoot down unshielded snubfighters when you had all the time in the world to line up your shots. Maybe she'd been mistaken about how limited her contributions would be on a ship. Still, they'd scored plenty of hits of their own and would have scored dozens more if not for Til's flying. That probably would have been enough to end their little adventure right there, insane gunnery skills or not.

Another age passed with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company, and she was dimly aware of the drawn out, pitched down vocalizations of someone speaking. It was Til, she knew, even though his voice was unrecognizable while her thoughts were blazing along at the speed they were.

It was....

<Comfortable.>

Even the loud noises that usually made her wince were softened by the stretch of dilated perception, all the sharp and piercing edges filed off into something bearable. Her eyes fell shut and her last breath began to release in a sigh, but some part of her knew it couldn't last. There had been times when she'd tried to prolong it, use it every waking moment. She'd been alone then, and it felt rational and correct.

Until it hadn't.

She remembered herself, curled up and shaking in an alley on coruscant, out of her mind with terror as her consciousness finally gave out and shut her down entirely. It had been months after that before she'd dared to tap into that perception again. It was too easy to over-use and the risk too high with prolonged exposure.

The glorious shining sky outside the gunner's port began to twist and glow, stars elongating into streaks as she watched the planet disappear faster than even she could see, and with a great heaving of conscious effort she pulled herself out of the beautiful illusion.

The sounds of the ship and Til's voice immediately came crashing back with a severity that made her physically recoil as the rest of her sigh escaped her. She slid off the gunner seat and dropped to the deck below with a quiet thump.

<I really need to get a new dampener.>

She turned to look out the cockpit at the swirling blue hues of hyperspace, then down at the back of Til's head. A ghost of a thought began to surface as she did, wondering if he could really be trusted, and she quashed it before it could get any farther.

<He's proven reliable so far. No reason to think that will change.>

...she stubbornly told herself.

"Good flying. Where are we headed?"

Til Melarr​

 

[Til Melarr]

He turned his chair around at the sound of Nadi coming down from the gunner's spot, immediately noticing the slight wince on her face as she recoiled from the sudden roar of the engines and the return of his voice to normal. He certainly hadn't missed her compliment about his flying with it only reinforcing his growing belief that he was the best pilot there ever was.

With that thought still bringing a small grin to his face, Til unclipped the loose helmet from his head and kicked off the heavy boots he had borrowed, resting his now-socked feet on the chair beside him.

"I will certainly take the high praise," he said, looking her over once more. The grin faded slightly when he took in just how badly she had been beaten up. Without saying anything, he gestured toward the cabinet beside him, where the medical supplies were stored.

"You might want to patch yourself up," he said. There was a practical reason for the suggestion. Law enforcement on the next planet over would undoubtedly take notice of two blood-stained, exhausted travelers, and it wouldn't be long before the warden alerted the bounty hunters' guilds operating throughout the region to their escape. The less suspicious they looked when they arrived, the better.

With that in mind, Til leaned back in his chair as the freighter finally entered hyperspace. "We're heading to the next sector over, a planet known as Rugosa." The journey would be short, but Til kept his attention on his companion all the same. After everything they'd just been through, the last thing he needed was for Nadi to leave a trail of blood across the freighter or for either of them to attract unwanted attention when they reached customs.
​

 

[Nadi]

Rugosa. It wasn't a planet she was familiar with, and the paranoia once again threatened to violently overwhelm her mind as she struggled to reassert reason. Uncertainty was an easy thing for fear to latch onto, a fuel that could cause it to roar up from a spark to a wildfire in an instant if she didn't keep a tight lid on it.

<Fear is the mind killer. ...and it'll make me the people killer if I'm not careful.>

<...more of a people killer.>

She glanced at Til as she took the copilots seat, her breathing intentionally steady and almost unnaturally consistent. He'd proven a good ally so far, and she'd regret it if one of her episodes separated him from his body.

"I'll be fine. I might need a change of clothes, but there won't be any blood."

In fact, if he stopped and looked closer, he'd realize there hadn't ever been any. There were the burned edges of the uniform where the shots had lanced through, but if there had ever been burned edges to the wounds themselves they were already back to silver as the skin slowly closed up again. Instead of blood beneath what should have been the holes burned through her, only the outermost layer of skin had been seared away to reveal a dark, fibrous weave beneath each blast. None of the bolts had even gotten through her skin.

This all seemed a simple matter of course to Nadi, who paid her injuries no more attention than one would a paper cut. She did lay her right hand out on the arm of the chair, palm up, to prevent anything from obstructing the healing, but that was the extent of her precautions.

"Have you ever been to Rugosa? Or at least have an idea what to expect?"

Til Melarr​

 

[Til Melarr]

Til stared at her palm for a moment longer than he meant to. He had seen plenty of strange things across the Outer Rim, but watching dark fibers knit themselves back together beneath someone's skin was still unsettling. There was probably a reason why Nadi ended up in prison.

Now that she was free, Til had no idea what she might do next. He decided it was probably best not to ask just yet. Instead, he shifted his legs out of the way, giving her room to sit into the copilot's seat.

"Right. No blood. My apologies." He gave a shrug and leaned back, stretching his legs toward the dashboard. His attention wandered around the cockpit as he looked for anything they could use to replace her prison clothes. There wasn't much. The ship was a prison freighter, after all, and they had stolen it rather than packed for a getaway.

Anything with a prison insignia would make them stand out the moment they reached a populated port. Til turned back toward the blue tunnel of hyperspace. "Yeah, I've been to Rugosa," he said when she asked about the planet.

"It's basically a giant rock covered in dead coral trees and blue fog." He glanced over at her. "Not much there besides silence, huge coral spires, and people who know better than to ask questions. It's empty enough for us to dump this bucket, sell whatever's in the hold, and disappear before Golrath even figures out which sector we jumped to." The thought seemed to remind him of something. Til pushed himself out of the pilot's seat and stretched until his back gave a satisfying pop.​

 

[Nadi]

With the minimal damage to her dermal armor layers repaired, the worst of the pain was past and she did her best to ignore the itching as her skin knit itself back together. Her fresh new nerve endings flared with sensation that her mind had trouble processing, so it just said it was itchy. Really karking itchy.

She idly pulled one foot up onto the seat as Til spoke.

"Sounds like a great place to vanish. Good choice."

It was an honest statement, if a bit forced and intentional. It was easier to reinforce the sense of trust she had cultivated to combat the paranoia if she actively and externally engaged with it; Speaking it into the world in the form of praise for an ally or even just a response that took their words at face value.

She felt a portion of the tide of mistrust rising behind her mental dam begin to ebb, eased by her acknowledgment of Til's stated intentions, and let out a long breath. She'd known when she decided to use it that the neural acceleration lattice would push the tide higher and cause it to crash against her harder, but it was usually manageable in short bursts, and based on past experience she was through the worst of it now.

And with that sense of relief, her mind was able to turn its attention to other matters and she suddenly registered the gnawing emptiness of her stomach.

<Right. Food.>

They'd broken out just before their next meal would have been dropped off, and they were only given two in a day.

"I'm going to see if I can find any food on this tub."

It wasn't a dedicated long-range freighter by any means, but only an idiot would risk the chance of being stranded in space without at least basic supplies. Her foot thumped down off the chair and she headed out of the cockpit and into the back of the ship.

The two guards still lay where she had left them. Both had taken more than one stun bolt and while it hadn't been enough to kill them, they were going to be out for a while. Likely at least a bit longer than it would take them to reach Rugosa. Idly, her thoughts returned to the ultimatum she'd given as they were leaving, but she quickly discarded the notion. The wannabe hero had been young and stupid, but there was no gain in slaughtering these two as some petty revenge for his bravado.

She continued on, and eventually located what apparently passed for a galley but was little more than a closet. It did have food, though, such as it was. Vacuum sealed bags of compressed nutrient cubes and accompanying liquid. It was some kind of nutrient-rich juice, according to the label, designed to both hydrate and supplement the denser composition of the cubes.

<It'll have to do.>

She grabbed several packs and spread them out on the nearby table, then took a seat and selected one at random. She bit down on one corner, making use of her prominent canines to tear it open as Til walked in. Her eyes rose to watch him as she pulled a cube from the package and tossed it in her mouth, chewing only long enough to break it into manageable pieces before swallowing.

She found herself growing uncharacteristically curious about the man, such as he was. A contradiction in terms. At once full of bravado and bluster, while simultaneously possessing enough skill to pass it off as mostly true and little enough ego to recognize that skill in others.

She put no voice to her curiosity, however, and simply watched him with idle interest.

Til Melarr​

 

[Til Melarr]

Til stepped out of the cockpit, peeled off the sweat-soaked Nikto chest piece, and gently set it down on the floor. He made a quick stop at the Refresher, which was nothing more than a metal closet with lukewarm water that smelled faintly a recycled metal. Three minutes later he had most of the grime and sweat off his skin much to his satisfaction.

He scrubbed his face, fixed his hair, and put on a plain gray officer's undershirt he'd found in a storage locker. Feeling like himself again, Til headed down the narrow corridor toward the hold. The two guards were still out cold, making his job easy. He took their keycards, comms, and sidearms before dragging them into a supply closet and tying them up with emergency cable.

With the gear in hand, he followed the sound of crinkling plastic into the cramped galley. He stopped in the doorway just in time to watch Nadi toss a gray, rubbery block into her mouth. Til winced as his stomach turned on her behalf.

"You know, back on Golrath, I'd have paid fifty credits for something that didn't taste like wet chalk," Til said, nodding toward the package. "Now that we're out, I see you've chosen the compressed chalk." He stepped past her and searched through the metal bins until he found a crinkled foil pouch buried at the bottom. Pulling it out, he squinted at the faded Aurebesh label.

"Ah. Smoked spoor-rat jerky. A classic," Til said, slapping the pouch against his palm. He tore it open and bit off a piece before leaning against the table across from her. He set the ring of keycards down and dropped the two blaster pistols beside them with a dull clatter. He lean back on the chair to relax as his now bare feet rested on the table side by side.
​

 

[Nadi]

"You know, back on Golrath, I'd have paid fifty credits for something that didn't taste like wet chalk," Til said, nodding toward the package. "Now that we're out, I see you've chosen the compressed chalk."

Nadi looked Til dead in the face as she picked up another cube, held it out for him to see, and slowly poured the juice over her next bite.

And whether it was the simple relief of finally being free of that place or an actual genuine reaction to the humor of the situation, she couldn't stop a small smile from quirking her lips as she did it.

Then she took the bite.

<Oh, that's actually a lot better.>

This one went down a lot easier than the first, but her nose had caught the scent of Til's jerky and her stomach was about to organize against her and demand a cut. It'd been way too long since she'd had actual meat of any kind, and she didn't really care that it wasn't a prime cut of something expensive. Or even something reasonably priced.

"I'll trade you three wet compacted chalk cubes for a strip of that Jerky."

Til Melarr​

 

[Til Melarr]

Til watched as Nadi poured the juice over the block, his face changing from disgust to genuine surprise when the corner of her mouth turn into a smile. He didn't even know she could do that, as he let out a sigh in relief that he wasn't traveling with an unfeeling monster.

"Look at that. She smiles. I knew there was a person in there somewhere," Til remarked, tossing a piece of the dried meat into his mouth. "But watching you turn that wet chalk into soggy wet chalk is going to give me a stomach ache." he shuddered at the thought of such a a thing entering into his body which he regarded as a sacred temple. His ears picked up the little rumbling coming from her stomach.

A grin soon spread across his face as he tapped the foil pouch in his hand. "Ah so you do crave food. Nice to know." he joked holding the pouch just out of her reach. "As tempting as that offer is, I'll decline." he reached into the pouch and tore off a thick dark strip of a meat and and dangled it just above the table.

"Here's the deal. I'll give you the jerky for free on one condition," Til said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes shining with curiosity. "You tell me how someone who absorbs blaster fire, doesn't bleed, and turns entire garrisons into mindless banthas ended up in a cell on Golrath in the first place." He tapped the strip of jerky against his thumb, giving her a signature wink.
​

 

[Nadi]

She tilted her head slightly, considering for a moment before giving him a miniscule nod. In addition to possibly reinforcing a bond with an ally, sharing some small part of her story was also a great way to spit in the face of her ever-present paranoia.

"Very well."

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.

"Those men were caught unaware. Their familiarity with the monotony of uninterrupted routine made it much easier to convince them it was business as usual. Without that and the uniforms to help sell the illusion, you'd likely have died in the prison and I would have been shot out of the sky."

She held up her hand to regard her palm, where the skin was nearly finished knitting itself back together.

"And even someone with abilities like mine isn't invincible."

It was a truth she knew better than most, even among those who could boast similar traits. True, she could easily handle your average being with a blaster, but a trained, well-prepared team of experts with intel? She'd run up against several that had nearly killed her, and as her most recent residency would attest, at least one that had bested her.

"The galaxy is a very big place, and I am but a single small woman trying to survive it. Sometimes it gets the better of me."

She shrugged.

"This time it was a corpo tac squad. They had intel on me and exploited it after I meddled in one of their interests."

Til Melarr​

 

[Til Melarr]

Til's smirk faded for a moment as Nadi explained her situation to him. He knew that corporate tactical Squads were nothing more than executioners in polished armor backed up by seemingly infinite resources. The fact that she'd survived them all, and ended up alive in the high security lock up on Golrath told more about her than any boast ever could.

"Corpo tac squads," Til murmured, his tone dropping its usual dramatic flair. He reached out and held the thick strip of spoor-rat jerky toward her, waiting until her fingers closed around it before letting go.

"Nasty business. Those suits don't like losing money, and they definitely hate anyone who messes with their bottom line." He slid his bare feet off the edge of the metal table, the soles of his feet hitting the cold deck plates with a soft slap. Crossing his arms over his gray undershirt, he leaned back in the creaking galley chair and studied her.

"You know, most people in our line of work would've lied," Til said. "They would've spun some legendary tale about a whole battalion cornering them in a burning building. But you? You just give it to me straight." He leaned forward, his eyes dropping to the pair of heavy guard blasters resting on the table. He picked one up by the grip, testing its weight in his palm.

With a flick of his thumb, he released the power cell, checked the blue energy charge glowing inside, and slapped it back into the handle. He slid the heavy pistol across the metal surface, bringing it to a rest right beside her package of food.

"Keep it," Til said smoothly as he gestured to the weapon. "Corpos have long memories, and the warden on Golrath is going to have a stroke when he realizes his ship is gone. When we land on Rugosa, I'd rather have an armed partner watching my back while I negotiate with the locals." He stood up from the table, taking a moment to stretch his arms high over his head until his spine gave a satisfying pop. He glanced over his shoulder toward the dark corridor leading back to the cockpit.
​

 

[Nadi]

She snatched the jerky and tore into it with a growl one normally wouldn't expect from a being that looked so human....ish.

"Guess I'm not most people."

Paranoia aside, she couldn't think of a reason why she would have lied about that. Kept it to herself, maybe, if she wasn't trying to moderate her own brain, but make things up to be more grandiose and legendary? What would even be the point? She generally didn't care what others thought of her.

<Maybe it says more about the people he usually hangs out around.>

She watched Til handle the blaster and slide it over to her, regarding it as she finished up the jerky. Something gave her the impression that this was a level of trust he didn't often extend. Her eyes flicked back up to his face.

"So you're willing to stick together, then."

Even for her, more eyes and ears were better than less, and their partnership had proven immensely valuable thus far.

She assumed his negotiations would either be for passage offworld or an entire ship to facilitate the same. They couldn't stay for long. It could take days or it could take weeks, but eventually the search would reach Rugosa and they needed to be gone by then.

<And besides, I need to go get my ship back.>

If the tac squad stuck to procedure, the ship was likely impounded and awaiting processing for resale. These things tended to take a while, but she didn't have forever.

"Got any plans after we're clear?"

Til Melarr​

 

[Til Melarr]

Til paused at the doorway, resting his forearm against the frame and letting his weight rest on it. He watched Nadi finish the last piece of meat with a disgusted look as his eyes wandered down to the heavy blaster sitting on the table. He looked back up when she asked a very important question.

"Stick together?" Til repeated, tapping his temple twice with an index finger. "Darling, a team like us only comes around once in a blue moon. You handle the ground troops, I handle the impossible flying, and we both get to keep breathing. It'd be a shame to ruin a good thing." He pushed off the doorframe and turned down the hall, his bare feet making quick slaps against the cold deck plates.

"As for after?" Til called back, his voice bouncing off the narrow corridor walls as he walked. "First, we unload this flying cage on some local scrapper with bad eyesight. Second, we take those credits and buy a ride that doesn't scream stolen prison asset. And third?" He ducked back into the cockpit and dropped heavy into the pilot's chair, the worn leather squeaking under his weight. He grabbed the main throttle housing, resting his boots back on the edge of the console.

"Whatever we want," he yelled down the passage over the rising whine of the sublight drives. "Somewhere with strong drinks, cheap fuel, and no corporate hit squads looking for payback." The nav-computer let out three chirps. Outside the front viewport, the swirling blue tunnel of hyperspace began to stretch, the floorboards shaking as the sublight engines prepared to catch the load. Til grabbed the hyperdrive levers, leaning back as his knuckles went tight against the grips.​