Fare For A Brigand: Part II: Difference between revisions
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"My job will kill me before these things do." | "My job will kill me before these things do." | ||
The silence hung for a bit while Wes and Naala lost themselves in scenery. Naala made a weak attempt at meditation, though other thoughts distracted her - although their mission was technically a success, the close calls were far too frequent, and in some cases, far too close. |
Revision as of 21:18, 13 September 2008
Chapter I
"I wish you wouldn't do that."
Naala gave Wes a scornful half-glance, not fully diverting her gaze from the speckled darkness in front of her. Safely out of Nal Hutta's orbit, the pair had perched themselves on the ledge of a platform in the ship's rear observation deck, which was essentially a large, transparent hemisphere on the ship's rear. The sight was spooking - the lack of girders or reinforcement beams made a forward glance seem as though one had nothing to separate himself from the vastness of space. During galas, the Hutt from whom the ship was lifted would position his repulsorlift in such a way as to be able to soak in the majestic view throughout the party's duration.
Wes ignored her momentarily as he cracked open the small glass tube, filled with glowing red crystals. Gently, he tapped the rocks out onto one of his blaster pistols, laid dutifully across his lap. Reaching for the other pistol, he used the butt of the gun to crush the crystals in a fine, red powder. His efficiency in doing so evidenced his frequent use of ixetal cilona. Popping a thin, steel tube from within the same blaster he'd used to make the powder, he gently nudged the sloppy pile into a narrow line. Naala averted her eyes, half in denial, and half in disgust. A sloppy snorting noise resonated throughout the chamber as Wes inhaled the powder. When the line was gone, Wes threw his head back jerkily and breathed a sigh of relief.
He remained still for a moment while the drugs took their effect, finally replying to Naala as the blackness of space became a canvas for a multitude of colors to paint pictures conceived in the depths of Wes's imagination.
"I handle myself just fine - Trust me, huh? My hobbies are none of your business, anyway..."
Naala quirked a brow, replying with palpable disdain.
"Those things will kill you, you know..."
Wes, finally leveling his gaze, though it remained forward-locked, retorted with morbid sarcasm.
"My job will kill me before these things do."
The silence hung for a bit while Wes and Naala lost themselves in scenery. Naala made a weak attempt at meditation, though other thoughts distracted her - although their mission was technically a success, the close calls were far too frequent, and in some cases, far too close.