A New Acquaintance

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Warnings: -------

Word Count: 2650

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You entered the canteen, the sleepless night you had endured within the last few hours weighing heavy on your face. Your cheeks were pale, the rosy blush that once existed within them washed out to an anemic white; your lips, once smooth and plump now sat chapped and deflated, and the darkened purple of your undereye suggested you'd gotten mere minutes of shuteye - which in reality was true.
You had returned from a night of smuggling, Lady Proxima's orders ticking like a live grenade in your mind. She had told you to gather the shipment from the Foundary, making sure to stick to the shadows and not be seen by a soul.
'Leave at sundown and be in before the klaxon sounds' She had said her face stern and cold as she sank down into the cistern the White Worm called home. You'd known the consequences of being back late, however the Foundary was miles away from the tunnels and finding the shipment would be as bad as finding a needle in a haystack. There was an innumerable amount of guards protecting the Foundary at any one time and the shipment the White Worm required was one of the more desireable among the bunch.
Lady Proxima was known for being 'by the book' when it came to jobs; doling them out equally to each scumrat, testing their skills and abilities whilst doing so. However, she often had jobs that slipped under the radar, usually a quick shipment or smuggling erand on the other side of the city. You had graciously accepted the job, not wanting to offend the one person who could provide you with food and a bed. Nevertheless, you still realised it would be a risky job to complete without coming back with a few memorable scars.
As you were the newest addition to the scumrats you felt as though you had to prove yourself; you would do whatever it took to find the shipment and bring it back to the den.
Maybe if you hadn't been so sure of yourself you would have made it back with the shipment. Upon reaching the Foundary, you found guards upon guards protecting the crates of Coaxium Lady Proxima desired. You scouted the area, making sure to account for every soldier and 'stick to the shadows' like you were instructed. You knew you needed to be careful with the Coaxium - a valuable fuel used to power ships through hyperspace - but you couldn't contain the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You made mistakes, slipping every now and then, knocking over signs or empty crates as you made your way back to the tunnel.
You were almost home free once you had grabbed a crate, making sure to pass through the tunnel that led underneath the Foundary floor as to not be seen. However, a rogue Stormtrooper had discovered you - one you hadn't noticed on your way in. Your mind shutdown and the only instinct you had was to run.
You couldn't leave emptyhanded. You needed to bring back something. Anything. Dropping the crate of Coaxium on the floor, you fell to your knees, your eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light of the tunnel. You fiddled around until your fingers felt a vile of the fuel and scurried along the floor, trying to find your feet to carry you home. Behind you, you heard the Stormtrooper begin to shoot, carelessly stepping on the bottles of fuel that littered the ground, cracking them into a worthless pile of glass and off-yellow liquid. His deep robotic voice rang through the passage as he called for backup - a reason for you not to look back but keep running, the vile gripped tightly in your hand. As you rounded the corner, the Stormtrooper shot, his aim close to perfect, and one of the bullets clipped your arm. Although you were moaning in pain, the heat from the blaster searing through your arm, you continued to run, through the underground and up to the surface.
You had made it back before the klaxon sounded, just as Lady Proxima had said. There was enough time between Moloch and his crew waking the den of scumrats and breakfast for you to catch a few minutes of sleep; however not enough to hide the fact you'd been out all night. Before you collapsed onto your bed, you cleaned up your wound, wrapping a bandage around it that only stopped the bleeding temporarily; the pain still a dull ache coursing through your body.
Now, you stood in the cantina, your eyes drooping with insomnia, the vile of Coaxium stuffed into the pocket of your jacket - a hefty weight accompanying it. You shuffled with the line you had entered, picking up a tray with your good arm, resting it neatly on your palm and waited for your turn to be served.
The food served at the den wasn't enough to keep a person going, a mixture of porridge and rat pieces was the staple diet of a White Worm - not a human. The stench that accompanyed the sludge didn't scream appetizing either. However, being the latest to arrive at the den you were only given small amounts as you had not yet 'proven' yourself to Lady Proxima; something which may have happened if you had escaped with a full crate of her Coaxium.
As you reached the counter, you held out your tray, the being behind the glass scooping up a piece of the sludge and dropping it on your tray, a heavy thud indicating it wasn't entirely edible. You nodded gently to the Worm, spinning on your heel to scan the cantina for a seat.
Making friends in the den was the hardest part. Everyone fought, trying to gain the attention of Lady Proxima - her approval being the best gift a scumrat could receive. As far as you could tell, none of the scumrats that surrounded you were friends at all. Instead they were colleagues, simply pawns who helped you rise to the top.
You found it best not to make friends. You'd sat alone each time you ate in the cantina, trying not to draw attention to yourself; especially now seeing as you posessed a vile of the most valuable substance in the galaxy.
Once you'd spotted a seat, you made a bee-line over to it, keeping your eyes on the sludge you carried and avoiding everyone in your path. As you sat down, you exhaled deeply, a mixture of the pain running down your arm and the relief of finding an empty table pumping through your veins.
The porridge in front of you began to ooze, small chunks that seemed to appear out of nowhere spilling over the side of your tray. You turned your nose up in disgust, flicking the plate away from you, the smell becoming slightly more bearable. As you crossed your arms - pressing your opposite hand against your wound, trying to apply pressure to take the pain away - your eyes met the gaze of another scumrat across the canteen.
You'd seen him wandering around the den before, a good-for-nothing scoundrel as you'd thought, who always arrived home late. You stared at him as he held his eyes on yours, his look fixed. His spoon hung loosely in his hand and a smug smile sat on his lips, his mouth chewing the intolerable sludge you couldn't bare to swallow. Your eyes narrowed and you were suddenly taken aback as the Scumrat you locked eyes with winked at you.
You couldn't tell whether you were more disgusted at the porridge or him.
Even from this distance, you could tell he was gently laughing to himself as he scooped up the rest of his breakfast and shoveled it into his mouth, his shoulders still bouncing up and down slightly.
Annoyance began to build from the pit of your stomach, your face set in anger. Although you'd never met this man before you felt an unbearable hatred toward him that you couldn't describe. Your blood began to boil as you saw him make his way over to you, wiping his mouth on a napkin he quickly stuffed into his pocket.
"Where were you?" He asked, arrogance running through his voice as he made himself comfortable in the seat next to you. The voice that accompanied the man who now sat next to you sounded familiar. You'd never met before, you were sure of it; but somehow you knew this person. You quickly scoffed to reply to his question and furrowed your eyebrows, head tilted in confusion.
"Excuse me?" You asked in disgust and he huffed, slowly becoming impatient with your answer.
"I saw you this morning. Wrapping that up..." The man pointed to your bandage and you figited in your seat slightly, moving your arm out of his view.
After several moments of silence - you thought it best to not give an answer - the man spoke up again, this time revealing his name. "Look, I'm Han" He held out his hand for you to shake, but you pulled away even further, still unsure of his status and what he wanted with you.
"I saw you last night..." His words perked your attention and rung out in your head; your mind suddenly taken off the pain your wound caused and instead focused on the scoundrel sat next to you.
"I-I have no idea what you're talking about..." You stuttered and tried to play the fool, to act as though what you had said was the truth. Han huffed again, this time pulling your discarded porridge closer to him, taking the spoon and filling his mouth.
"You dropped the Coaxium..." He said around a mouth of sludge "...and took one with you" As he spoke he pointed his spoon at you, his eyes moving down to the pocket that held the vile. You removed your hand from the wound on your arm, quickly pulling it down to your pocket to try and conceal the item he already knew to exist.
"How... How could you possibly know that?" This time you began to give in to him, your posture deflating. Many of the scumrats you lived with were extremely confident, saying they were better on their own than with a group. You'd found it best to mimick their confidence, to try and make yourself seem more self-assured than you actually were. It usually helped to keep you out of the spotlight - however today it clearly wasn't working.
Instead of answering your question Han met your query with another wink, this time the chuckle which came along side it was audible.
"Answer me!" You raised your voice slightly, taking the scumrat by suprise as he shovelled another heaped spoonful of sludge into his mouth.
"Listen, Sweetheart. Lady Proxima asks everyone to do jobs - don't be thinkin' you're special, or anything" You suddenly felt your cheeks flush red, the heat of embarrasment bubbling up inside you.
"All I'm asking..." You spoke quietly now, trying to hinder the flow of blood to your cheeks and leant into Han, holding your breath to avoid the smell of the sludge "...How do you know about the Coaxium?"
Your question was answered by a slight laugh before he pushed the tray which he's mopped clean away from him. He leant closer to you, closer than you already had, his lips less than an inch from your ear.
"Who do you think was the Stormtrooper?" As soon as Han uttered his words, something in your mind clicked. His voice sounded familiar - as if you'd known him your whole life - because he was the trooper who had discovered you. And the only other scumrat you'd ever spoken to.
"You..." Your words became a jumble in your head, the sentence you tried to form left your lips as nothing but a slight mumble. You began to recall the events of the night before; the tunnel, coaxium, the blaster shot.
The blaster shot.
"You shot me!" This time your voice became a yell as you pushed yourself up from the table, the rattling vibrations of the cantina around you quietning down to a dim hush, each scumrat and White Worm looking at the spectacle you'd started.
"Sit down..." Han spoke through gritted teeth, pulling down on your wrist to try and influence your movement. Your face contorted into a mess of anger and embarrasment, the entirety of the canteen now holding it's gaze on you and the scoundrel.
"I can't believe this! You shot me! You--" Your sentence was cut short, the cantina door flung open in mid flow. Through the door - which you were suprised wasn't hanging off it's hinges - strode Moloch, his crew not far behind. He held a large cane in his left hand, his right cupped stiffly to his side.
Moloch was Lady Proxima's right-hand man, the Worm who did the dirty work Lady Proxima couldn't do for herself. He rounded up the scumrats, gathered some of the more larger shipments and beat anyone out of line into submission.
Even though you'd only been here a few weeks you knew to steer clear of Moloch; his cane used for more than just walking in his old age. As soon as he entered, both you and Han dipped your heads, you sitting back down and Han turning his back to the Worm. Han's eyes were scrunched tight, a sort of cloaking mechanism - as if he thought if he couldn't see Moloch, Moloch couldn't see him.
"You..." Moloch bellowed, pointing a pale gnared tallon at you, your heart sinking to your stomach as he did so. You stuttered slightly, slowly raising yourself up off the chair, your legs shaking underneath you - hardly supporting your weight.
As you stood up, Han opened his eyes, his gaze fixed on you and then quickly over to Moloch. He shook his head in what you could only describe as disbelief and he rose with you; his back to you, palm pressed tightly against your wrist, holding you back.
"It was me..." He said, taking a large gulp before he did, readying himself for the worst. Your breathing increased as you listened to his words, the rest of the cantina drowning out - as if only you Han and Moloch existed.
"Wha- No, no!" You gritted your teeth, whispering in his ear, but Han only pushed you back further, trying to protect you from the wrath of the White Worm. Moloch tilted his head, his cane tapping impatiently on the floor as if the rhythm helped his thoughts.
"You don't even know what he's here for!" You spoke into Han's ear, the whisper you once used now coming out as a hushed yell. Han leant back into you, his lips almost touching yours.
"It has to be about last night- about the coaxium. Just trust me..." The words Han had spoken stayed with you. Yes, you barely knew this man - you didn't even know his last name - but for some reason you did trust.
"Take me instead" Han spoke up again, this time moving forward closer to the Worm and his gang and the fury that came with Moloch's temper. Moloch chittered in his native language for a moment, deciding with his crew what course of action must be taken. A few seconds passed before a verdict was decided upon.
"Fine..." Moloch gave in, gesturing his hand forward for two of his minions to sieze Han, cuffing his hands behind his back. As they shuffled out of the canteen - Han following obiediently - he looked around, briefly catching your gaze. He winked in your direction, something you now thought of as a sign of hope.
You'd never wanted to make friends with the scumrats, but now as Han was being taken away for an unimaginable punishment, tears began to well in your eyes.
Maybe you would make friends after all.








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