Tlaloc — Roleplayer Guild

collab with @Zoie Hart

Viszt watched the others as they shuffled away, swift and decisive — they hadn’t seemed inconvenienced or otherwise irked by the Chiss’ audacity. The pressure was, for at least a moment, reduced, and all Viszt had to concern himself with was the woman accompanying him to the med bay. He hadn’t quite decided what he’d do next, but having one brigand breathing down his neck was much better than three. He started walking hurriedly in the direction of the med bay, the woman a pace behind him, watching his every move. He glanced back at her every few moments, trying to make some kind of judgement.

“If he thinks about double crossing me. I’ll shoot him myself.” — that’s what she’d said to her accomplices. A bluff or a promise, he wasn’t sure. Was she the type to kill indiscriminately to get the job done? Her actions in the alleyway made him uncertain. Indeed, there was a chance that Viszt’s captors were smarter than they let on. Maybe they’d seen him in a precarious situation in the alley, and sent the woman to his aid to use as a bargaining chip, only to feign disorganisation later on. However, unless they were fantastic actors, it was much more likely that their existing plan was complicated by Viszt’s involvement. If that were the case, it struck Viszt that this woman might not be a cold-blooded killer, lest she’d have simply left him to a grisly fate at the hands of the junkers.

”What’s your name?,” he asked, sure he wouldn’t receive an answer. He’d given her his name back in the alleyway.

Silence.

He sighed.

As they approached the med bay, the ambience of hazard set in; low persistent alarms, flashing yellow lights, several droids cordoning off the area, and chemical smell hanging in the air. Viszt noticed his abetter’s eyes dancing around the corridor.

 “Is there a locker room nearby? Wouldn’t mind changing out of this bulky armor.” 

Viszt nodded his head across the hall, where the medical cloakroom was situated. ”Just over there.”

This was a chance to run, he thought. But, as the woman disappeared into the room for a minute or so, he felt unable to. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt, in this moment, like a door had been flung open; the idea of slamming it shut didn’t appeal. He made his way into the lab, but he didn’t say a word about his new associate. In here, the ruckus was even more apparent; two imperial engineers stood facing a busted machine and squabbled over the logistics of how best to fix it.

“Where have you been!?,” Benaire cried as he saw Viszt enter. Before receiving an answer he rushed over, handing over a datapad with various readings about the cold storage and its chemical levels.

”Sorry, I came as quickly as I could.”

"I need you to help sort this out. It's worse than I thought. The leak is affecting other systems. We’ve got to transfer the remaining chemicals to emergency storage, and the droids are struggling to keep up."

Quickly, Viszt hurried into action, assisting the doctor. He set to work, moving vials and containers onto droids, which went back and forth, and assisting the engineers with assessing the leak. Though he had moved the excess chemicals off the ship, now everything that remained had to be cleared out, or a dangerous chemical reaction could occur. Removing the apparatus would prove a big issue for the ship’s crew, as, from this point on, they were no longer equipped to deal with medical emergencies. On account of the armed trespassers on board: this was bad. Additionally, these chemicals were valuable, and could make a black-market seller a good few hundred credits. Viszt hoped that his captor, who had re-emerged at the doorway, was not aware of this.

Time ticked by. Every few minutes, as the arduous process dragged on, Viszt would glance up at the doorway; where Aellyn lingered, waiting, checking the time. As the hour dragged on, she seemed to grow more restless. 

He wasn’t sure how long had passed, but it must’ve been close to an hour when his captor entered the room, weapon in hand. No longer would she wait. The process was incomplete, and the chemicals were volatile. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, apprehensive.

Aellyn raised the rifle toward the engineers and Benaire.  “The three of you…don’t move….” She gripped the rifle and turned toward the lab technician. “Are you almost done with fixing the leak? Hour is almost up and I’m leaving on that ship.”

”I… No. I’m not done yet,” he said. Just give me fifteen minutes,” he pleaded, but he knew that wasn’t enough time.

“What?” Benaire looked at her, then at him. It took a few seconds for him to realise he was being threatened. “Viszt — what is happening? What does she mean, three of us?”

”I don’t know, ” Viszt lied, still tussling with the damaged apparatus, glancing over his shoulder in panic as he continued to work. ”Can we just… calm down, for a —”

It was only a mere second as they saw movement, an engineer lunged toward Aellyn as she shot a stun at him. His body hit the floor.

Kriff! She quickly moved to stun the other two. 

Viszt stopped still, paralyzed without need for a shot. The others slumped down, unconscious, and he was next in the line of sight. But she didn’t shoot; not yet.

“Look, I am a floater. The two others just happened to stop here on their way to my destination. I do not like this situation but they will leave me here to rot if I don’t leave now. I am, was like you. Stuck in a corporate job on Coruscant working with the ISB. There are things I uncovered, things I never thought the Empire would do. The Empire is not what they say. Freedom? There is no such thing. We are slaves to do their bidding. These chemicals can go to people that need it. Don’t make me keep that promise from the warehouse… I don’t want to shoot you. But I will…” 

He gulped dryly. Fight or flight. Or… was there a third option. In the subtext of her words, there was an offer, an olive branch. She could’ve just shot him, but she wanted his help. He could go with her, get the chemicals off the ship, and get out of this life.

Everything he’d learned told him to say no.

”What’s your name?,” he repeated, calming himself. If he was going to put his head on the line, he needed an answer.

“Aellyn.”

”Alright,” he inhaled. ”We need to move fast.”
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