Saturday, March 21, 2009

Leave her for scrap

September 17, 2008

Al had been left with a task, her instructions clear and precise and the punishment for disappointing her father was also quite clear.. it wasn't allowed. There could be no mistakes, no room for error, yet he'd gone to pursue a larger ship and left her there to claim this haul. Al played the role of obedient and loyal son well, even to her father's crew she was known as his son. Her hair always pulled back in a braid and kept under a hood, she'd only recently been allowed to grow it out. It was her reward for an abundant haul she'd secured for her father, it had pleased him enough to allow her to have hair. Her face was always kept covered in a hood or sometimes a mask, the story was that 'he'd' been burned and thus hid 'his' face, the truth was that she was a girl rather than a boy and her father didn't want that known, sometimes she believed he truly wished she was his son instead of his daughter. But none of that mattered as she knelt in the engine room, the panel removed in front of her and her hands pulling and twisting wires. She pushed her sleeve up revealing the tattoo and scar on her forearm, the true marks she had. The scar was from a fight, a blade slice which curved around at an angle.

Why send an underling to do the fun jobs, especially when there was sport to be had still on board? The clatter of a blaster was too alarming and could cause an overly abrupt end to this game and hand-to-hand was simply too tiring. Getting a good look at this man's face before damaging it more, however...? The blaster was clipped back in place and he swung himself down to the level below, the boots being notice enough of his intrusion. "Ahem. You're on my ship and I don't believe we've met. I think that's a little rude, don't you?" He waited cautiously for the well known 'hood' to turn from the task and make a proper acquaintance now.

Al remained still for a moment, one gloved hand clenching into a fist as she kept her head tipped down, grunting a little. She did it to 'scratch' her throat so she could help make her voice more low and deep, her alter ego wasn't known for speaking much and the reason was the less she spoke, the less likely anyone would notice her voice. "Not your ship." She about hissed as if she had trouble speaking at all.

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