MURKHANA CITY, MURKHANA
AURIL SECTOR
OUTER RIM
Murkhana City was…pretty, from a certain point of view. Right on the coast, so you got that breeze right off the ocean. Black sand beaches that crept right up to the rolling cliffside the whole thing had been hacked into. Dazzling bits of spiraling high rise architecture, impressive from a distance even if it showed its age on closer inspection. It had a certain charm.
It was also, at its base level, a den of complete iniquity, replete with a full cast of ne’er-do-wells and malcontents of all shapes and sizes.
THAT, rather than the sea air and beachside aesthetics, was what had brought the Mandrake limping into Murkhana Landing. Imperial control aside, jobs were jobs, and credits were credits, and if there was anything Cutter needed more than breathable air…it was credits.
It was the third bail jumper since he’d been on-world. Not the most lucrative work, but Cutter was taking what he could get at the moment. The install on the Astromech socket had left him pretty tapped, so beggars could most definitely not be choosers.
“This one’s gonna be a runner, QC. I can feel it.”
Cutter muttered absently as the apartment complex’s turbolift whirred to a halt, the doors sliding open with a telltale creak of age. Beside him, QC warbled, suddenly hitching mid-sound before the tone shifted to a much harsher spasm of droidspeak, drawing an arched brow from a female passerby.
“What’d we talk about? Language. We’re in public, for cryin’ out loud. Sorry about him, Ma’am. We’re workin’ on manners.”
Cutter gave the woman a sheepish smile, met in return with a roll of her eyes; dismissal at its best. QC quorked after she disappeared into the turbolift, and Cutter shook his head.
“No, we’re not goin’ in that way, either. Gotta bring him breathin’. So it’s ‘Special Delivery’, or nothin’.”
Another harsh burst of binary followed, but Cutter ignored it as the pair made their way down the hall, door by door, following the tracer’s ping until they found their target. He slid the tracer back into a pouch and cleared his throat, sighing before he gave a firm knock at the door.
“Delivery for Mr. Dorian Lo--”
There was a sudden crash from inside, and the muffled sound of swearing. A few more sounds of heavy movement, and a series of loud THUDs. Cutter could only shake his head.
“I KNEW it.”
Cursing to himself, Cutter fumbled with the copied key he’d been given as a last resort, nearly dropping it as grasped with his maimed hand through force of habit before he was able to swipe it through the automated lock. The Apartment door slid open…
Just as the sound of the window shattering found Cutter’s ears, bursting in just in time to see his quarry lurching out of the now wide open window.
“NonononoNO come ON, man, don’t make me----!”
Cutter picked his way through the shattered furniture, lurching toward the window to watch his quarry land roughly on a lower roof just next door, hobbling as fast as he could away from the scene. Cutter’s eyes darted around him, the scent of sea air and industrial coolant wafting into his nostrils. His hand went to the Peacemaker at his side, but just for a moment. Too far already, and not worth the risk. A heavy sigh went out of him as he pulled his helmet from the satchel at his side, slotting it firmly into place with a slight wheeze.
“Wait here, QC. In case he doubles back.”
The droid quorked a pointed question.
“I don’t know, fu--- trip him or something. Just---stay here.”
A heavy sigh followed, as he looked down at the nearby roof.
“Here goes nothin’.”
With that, Cutter lurched through the window. The chase was on.
AURIL SECTOR
OUTER RIM
Murkhana City was…pretty, from a certain point of view. Right on the coast, so you got that breeze right off the ocean. Black sand beaches that crept right up to the rolling cliffside the whole thing had been hacked into. Dazzling bits of spiraling high rise architecture, impressive from a distance even if it showed its age on closer inspection. It had a certain charm.
It was also, at its base level, a den of complete iniquity, replete with a full cast of ne’er-do-wells and malcontents of all shapes and sizes.
THAT, rather than the sea air and beachside aesthetics, was what had brought the Mandrake limping into Murkhana Landing. Imperial control aside, jobs were jobs, and credits were credits, and if there was anything Cutter needed more than breathable air…it was credits.
It was the third bail jumper since he’d been on-world. Not the most lucrative work, but Cutter was taking what he could get at the moment. The install on the Astromech socket had left him pretty tapped, so beggars could most definitely not be choosers.
“This one’s gonna be a runner, QC. I can feel it.”
Cutter muttered absently as the apartment complex’s turbolift whirred to a halt, the doors sliding open with a telltale creak of age. Beside him, QC warbled, suddenly hitching mid-sound before the tone shifted to a much harsher spasm of droidspeak, drawing an arched brow from a female passerby.
“What’d we talk about? Language. We’re in public, for cryin’ out loud. Sorry about him, Ma’am. We’re workin’ on manners.”
Cutter gave the woman a sheepish smile, met in return with a roll of her eyes; dismissal at its best. QC quorked after she disappeared into the turbolift, and Cutter shook his head.
“No, we’re not goin’ in that way, either. Gotta bring him breathin’. So it’s ‘Special Delivery’, or nothin’.”
Another harsh burst of binary followed, but Cutter ignored it as the pair made their way down the hall, door by door, following the tracer’s ping until they found their target. He slid the tracer back into a pouch and cleared his throat, sighing before he gave a firm knock at the door.
“Delivery for Mr. Dorian Lo--”
There was a sudden crash from inside, and the muffled sound of swearing. A few more sounds of heavy movement, and a series of loud THUDs. Cutter could only shake his head.
“I KNEW it.”
Cursing to himself, Cutter fumbled with the copied key he’d been given as a last resort, nearly dropping it as grasped with his maimed hand through force of habit before he was able to swipe it through the automated lock. The Apartment door slid open…
Just as the sound of the window shattering found Cutter’s ears, bursting in just in time to see his quarry lurching out of the now wide open window.
“NonononoNO come ON, man, don’t make me----!”
Cutter picked his way through the shattered furniture, lurching toward the window to watch his quarry land roughly on a lower roof just next door, hobbling as fast as he could away from the scene. Cutter’s eyes darted around him, the scent of sea air and industrial coolant wafting into his nostrils. His hand went to the Peacemaker at his side, but just for a moment. Too far already, and not worth the risk. A heavy sigh went out of him as he pulled his helmet from the satchel at his side, slotting it firmly into place with a slight wheeze.
“Wait here, QC. In case he doubles back.”
The droid quorked a pointed question.
“I don’t know, fu--- trip him or something. Just---stay here.”
A heavy sigh followed, as he looked down at the nearby roof.
“Here goes nothin’.”
With that, Cutter lurched through the window. The chase was on.
