Just call me, Robin Hood

[Allyson Locke]

Elrooden, Elrood, Outer Rim - Early Evening

[SIZE=10pt]The Famous Elrood Bazaar was in full effect even at the later hours of the day. People selling all sorts of goods from electronics to clothing. It seemed like the planet of Elrood had everything and its newest visitor pondered on obtaining some sort of land here. Allyson knew her feet would itch after some time and she would have to leave whatever sort of life she made here. It was just the way it was, she always had that sort of craving to see the galaxy. The Bazaar reminded her of some of the city festivals that happened on Corellia – they were always so full of color. Fond memories of her home world distracted Allyson for a moment as she wandered. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She had to wait for the cargo to be piled onto her ship. On the planet no one knew of the operations that were taking place, metals being removed from the rich man’s hangers and loaded into hers or another mercenary smuggler’s. From there she would or another smuggler would take the goods to another distributer who would provide the metals to people who couldn’t afford it. Sometimes the metals would go for free or exchange for food. It was the only way some of the poorer planets were able to keep up their work force.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]So despite her being basically a criminal, she was doing the right thing…right? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Allyson finished her maze like walk through the bazaar and finally arrived at a small cantina. There weren’t many people inside of it, which made it perfect. Her face wouldn’t be looked at and she could send her message out to some girl on Borleias. Walking inside she found herself a booth that was off in the corner. Quickly, her comm lit up and a message was quickly sent along with a small video of the bazaar. The note attached quickly read: Wish you were here to see this! Beyond that Allyson avoided anything else and just sent it off. [member="Kaili Talith"] didn’t need to be reminded of how she felt – not now. Leaning back in the booth she waved her hand and ordered a glass of Corellian whiskey. The barkeep set it down in front of her and she took a sip or two. Time to relax, till she got note that the goods were loaded up and ready to go. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt][member="Arlan Zy'rosh"][/SIZE]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

Cities like this one were always hard to work in. Arlan had learned the hard way that the more prestigious the planet, the less it's officials like mercenaries operating in it's townships. Arlan could of course understand that much, he could think of more of his associates than he could count he wouldn't trust in his own home, but when on the job it made things just hell to get through. He had offered a silent prayer before setting down in a nearby dock that working for one of the government officials this time would grant him some leeway in how he did things, but already his employer had asked him to downplay any theatrics he might engage in while on the planet. Easier said than done considering Arlan's target this time around, smugglers. Everyone that has ever donned the title of mercenary knew the best way to get a smuggler was when they were on the ground. Let things hit the stars and you'd wind up searching every uncharted planet and backwater system in the galaxy and still not get a hit. If they wanted this done fast they would have gave Arlan the go ahead to deploy a squad of men to the planet, but no. He was here alone, doing things the hard way, and wasn't allowed to cause any undue property damage in his pursuit.

Arlan placed his hand on his neck and twisted it, a cracking sound soon following. He only did that when he was stressed, and anyone that knew him knew when Arlan was stressed he wasn't a peach to be around. The contract had arrived just a few days ago, demanding his attention as if someone had blown up a planet. Some official, who knew a higher up official, who knew an even higher up official, had been tipped off to his goods being robbed and distributed. They had deemed the whole affair as smuggling, but it seemed a lot like piracy to Arlan. At any rate the Elrood Government had agreed to pay Arlan handsomely if he retrieved any stolen property, even going so far as to offer a bonus for any of the smugglers he brought in. Arlan thought it was a tad strange they hadn't paid him to simply deter the robbery, but it was their credits on the line so he made no waves and accepted the contract outright.

The details came soon thereafter, which Arlan continued to read on his data-pad even now. One of the more noticeable smugglers he had gotten a tip on was a young woman, brunette haired, and Corellian. He hated hunting his fellow Corellians, especially after what happened to Corellia itself, but a job was a job and he didn't break contracts. "This is going to be real fun Arlan." He said as he raised his eyes an scanned the bazaar. "Good job on not delegating this to one of the greenhorns. There's no better use of your time than hunting down some girl before she leaves the planet with a hold full of stolen goods." He said sarcastically to himself. Another shake of his head would emphasize his frustration at this point, and then his eyes noted something. A cantina, ducked out of the way a bit to the side of the bazaar. No better place in the galaxy to gather information than a cantina, and if not he could always go for a glass of ale.

[member="Allyson Locke"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

The whiskey burned her throat as she smiled and leaned back in the booth. Things were going smoother than she could have hoped, especially since they had done this run a few times already. The guys she hired were pretty smart and she paid them well from what she received from doing this. It helped they were like her, wanting to do good in the world. Most of the guys she worked with were fellow Corellians, it helped that they were typically pretty loyal. The shipment wasn’t too bad and if they needed something she always allowed them to take what they needed - not what they wanted. The metals were needed for homes and things like that on the poorer colonies and such. Good metal, not scraps.

Placing the glass down, she reached for her comm. Her first mate Bait the BB-Unit chimed in over the comm. Mused Allyson listened to what he had to say. It helped that she spoke binary so Bait was usually the best person to contact her to tell her without some special code that everything was nearly completely loaded on. “Good, keep up the work. I’m going to finish up my drink and we can get out of here.” A trill of beeps echoed as Allyson placed the comm onto the table near her drink. Most of the time, especially before she had met a certain droid maker - Allyson wouldn’t take her time planetside. She would be back on the ship as soon as she could and return to space. Though, there was something different, a weight that was attached her that made her want to learn to be planet side.

Sacrifices right? Allyson mused over the changes she had felt and the whiskey once more touched her lips. That burn returned her to reality and she sighed softly and placed the glass back down. Something in the back of her head itched and she figured something that she wasn’t going to like much was going to happen. Allyson ignored it and continued to sip her whiskey, in the back corner of the Cantina, doing what she did best and that was hide. [member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

A waft of sweat and alcohol hit Arlan as he pushed the doors open and entered the cantina. He had heard of people that actually liked the sweet stench this sort of place gave off, but he never learned to. In his experience cantinas were only good for gathering information and causing trouble, mostly at the same time, and only very rarely did the drinks they provide levitate the stress they provided. That was just Arlan's thinking though, preferring more to drink alone than among a sea of strangers. It was on sheer impulse he had come here today, hoping that someone here would at least have a small inkling of information that could lead him to the smugglers he sought. Though he doubted anyone would willingly give him the information, a few wayward credits or a glass to the face may well loosen their lips. Arlan didn't like to present himself as a thug, resorting to violence at every available turn, but he knew what he was. Mercenaries, even by other names, were men that made their living off of carnage and conflict. Bring to many morals into that mix and death was sure to come.

So, as it were, Arlan briefly scanned the barroom as he made his way to the bar. Nothing particularly stood out, though that was not to say nothing interesting was afoot in the place. "Corellian Ale." Arlan was say softly as he reached the bar, tossing a few credits unto the counter as the bartender turned and began fixing the drink. More expensive every day, but there was nothing better than a Corellian brew on a hot day. "Cheers." Arlan said to the barkeep as he took the glass placed on the counter and turned it up, downing the cool liquid in a few long gulps. Setting the glass down with a thud, Arlan sat there a few moments in silence. His eyes fixated upon the empty glass as the barkeep stood with his arms crossed on the other side of the counter. A sigh would soon follow, then a nod, before Arlan looked up to the man and smirked. "I'm looking for someone, know anyone that can help me out?"

This song and dance was one the barkeep had probably been through before, so cliche and predictable that he was almost prepping for it the moment Arlan sat down. "Depends. Who you looking for?" The barkeep said in a particularly loud voice, damning all subtlety.

"Young girl, Corellian, brunette, has her hands in the shipping trade." Arlan responded, locking his eyes upon the man's.

"Lots of Corellian in the star lanes these days bub. You'll have to be more specific." The barkeep responded.

Arlan tossed a few more credits on the bar, not many but enough. "She's in the city helping a local official unload some excess cargo." Arlan barked.

"Oh yeah, now that you mention it." The barkeep said with a poorly disguised attempts at surprise. "There was a girl in here like that not long ago, can't say if she left or not. Lot's of customers and all that you know."

"Yeah, I can see how busy this place is." Arlan turned towards the barroom and noted a distinct lack of patrons. Still, there were to many faced to sort through one at a time with ease. From what he gathered there was a good chance the girl he was looking for was still somewhere within the cantina, if she hadn't slipped out during Arlan's little chat with the bartender. He knew that if he moved quickly he could find her, but smugglers were crafty. All it would take was Arlan dropping his guard for a minute to lose the trail.

[member="Allyson Locke"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

Thank the Force Barkeeps were loyal to the customers that gave them the most tips. His voice echoed and quickly gave a tip off to the girl. Blinking, she leaned forward into her drink and took a gander at the conversation that was having. Sadly, all she could hear was the barkeeper's voice the rest of the crowd drowned out who ever he was talking about. All she knew from the information was that whoever it was, they were looking for a girl. Allyson was a girl and that was enough to make her finish the rest of her whiskey and get up from the booth. She drew up the hood on her jacket and tried to make her way towards the door of the bar.

Allyson wasn’t fond of people looking for her, especially ones that would interfere with her work with trying to help people. The men she was stealing from had enough money to produce more, if they didn’t raise the prices to insane levels, she wouldn't have to sneak in and take what belonged to them. If people would just pay the wages fairly, she wouldn’t have to slice their accounts and spread the wealth. She didn’t understand why the rich were so stingy, it was probably how they remained rich in this day and age.

Her head tilted to the side as she mused over the thought. If the rich all of a sudden became good people and shared their wealth she would be out of work. Frowning, she remembered the small odd jobs she had picked up when she was staying with Kaili Talith. Book Store keeper and some other stuff, it was boring and didn’t suit her quite as well as being a smuggler. Shrugging at the thought, she wondered if she’d ever make honest pay like the other girl who ran the droid shop. Either way, she couldn’t over think all of this.

As she passed the man that was asking questions, she looked to catch a glimpse of him. She caught the back of his head and then continued on. Waving a hand towards the barkeeper she grinned and looked over her shoulder. “See ya Pete, till next time old guy! Keep the good whiskey flowing!” Blinking, she probably shouldn’t have said anything she continued towards the door this time at a little quicker pace. Force this place smells like old greasy men...blech. [member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

The galaxy was a perpetual generator of signs. Good, bad, divine, lucky, it didn't really matter the sort of sign but there was always one to be found for those that looked. Seraphina had told him the Force was what showed the way to people whom look close enough, what tipped off those that dared to listen to it. Perhaps that was true, Arlan had learned to listen to the Force when conflicted during his time as a Jedi, but generally he chocked it up to instinct. The ones that seemed to always notice said signs were those that had been put through the grinder, those that had lived life in the cruelty of the galaxy and lived through. Once you've been through enough hell a person develops a six sense in a way, or at least that was how Arlan saw it. So as he sat at the bar in this run down cantina looking for a Corellian girl whom happened to be a smuggler, what else would exit the cantina but a young girl with her hood tightly drawn over her head as if trying to hide her face? If that was not a sign then nothing was.

Arlan stood slowly, nodding to the bartender dubbed Pete, and smirked. Arlan sure hated to make a mess of a place the served such fine Corellian Ale, but he had been paid to do a job and he intended to make good on it. A hand fell quickly to his side, his palm falling to the grip of the Peacemaker as he locked his eyes to the back of the girl's head. Now, he wasn't sure if this girl was the one he was locking for, there was no way he could be, but in this situation two things generally happened. The girl would be an innocent bystander wrongly accused of a crime, and would break down in hysteria from a slugthrower pointed at her face; or she would be guilty and make a break for it. There was always a chance of wildcards, innocent people that run in panic or guilty people that feign tears; but that was a risk Arlan had to take. A firm hand would wrap around the grip of the revolver and draw it quickly from it's holster on Arlan's hip. A second hadn't even passed and the weapon was leveled at the girl as she continued to walk out of the cantina. "That's far enough. I'm afraid you can't leave just yet little lady. I had a few question about processed metals I thought you might answer for me." Arlan barked across the room to get her attention.

Then another sign came, one that told Arlan he should have moved away from the bar before pulling his slugthrower and aiming it at the girl. One that now sent pain across the back of Arlan's head. See, Arlan had taken into account the girl may well be the wrong person or a wildcard but failed to take in other factors at the time. Primarily that the other patrons, namely the barkeep, would be okay with Arlan taking the young girl down. This, however; was not the case as the old man smashed a bottle of Corellian Ale across Arlan's head causing him to stumble down to a knee. "Run girl, now!" Was all Arlan could hear over the ringing as he slowly tried to regain his composure.

[member="Allyson Locke"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

Well she didn’t make it, Allyson stopped in her tracks as the man shouted at her to stop moving. There were several things she could do. First, she could just run. She could run as fast as she could and hope that because she was running he’d rather chase than shoot her. It didn’t take a genius to know that he had pulled a weapon, most people did in cases like this. She had run into enough bounty hunters and mercenaries a like to know their basic habits. This guy was one of them and she figured he was hired by the creep that thinks upping his prices is going to make him richer than he already is. That was the frustrating part. People functioned on money and she knew she was the same way, but at least her money wasn’t dirty.

Her second choice was to turn and point her own blaster towards his face. This was the choice she usually would have chosen, face the person wanting to shoot you and try and shoot him first. Allyson was a fan of this one, especially when she had nothing to lose. The cargo was already loaded and her BB-Unit could pilot the freighter and get the ship to where it was going. If she died then it was for the greater good, the metals were needed and she would lay down her life for that. The only thing is, that was the old Allyson. That was the Allyson that really had nothing to live for besides the next job, the next thrill, the next time she faced death. The Allyson that stood with her back towards the man with the gun and was quickly going through her options had found something more valuable with life. She found someone that actually cared. Someone that wanted to see her come home. That person weighed on her mind for a moment as she made her choice.

If she ran, there would be a commotion and that was her best bet at slipping into the crowd and getting to the ship. A crash was heard and she looked over her shoulder seeing good ol man Pete making the choice for her. The heavy Corellian Ale bottle made contact with the gunman which in turn caused the public to freak out. It was time to run. Allyson didn’t wait and headed towards the door, she slipped out of the cantina and began to sprint down the streets of Elroodan. The city wasn’t like Coruscant, it wasn’t as heavily populated but there was enough people to slip in and out of. She quickly discarded the jacket since the man probably had that burned into the back of his skull.

Oh wait, he had a bottle of Corellian Ale there. Allyson smirked and continued to run. “Bait! Get the ship ready for launch!...WHAT DO YOU MEAN ITS TAKING LONGER?!” Allyson shouted half winded into her comm. The BB-Unit continued to beep letting her know there was more to the shipment than the last time. He reassured her of course that it will be taken care and that she just needed to get back. “Okay! Be there asap!” [member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

A dense pain clouded Arlan's mind, the kind of low aching burn you would get from a toothache or a bad migraine. Everything was fuzzy and Arlan could feel himself stumbling forward a few inches. In all his life there was only one moment he could truly compare the sheer feeling of vertigo he had right now to. More years ago than he cared to count Arlan had taken a particularity nasty job, one that ended with a thermal detonator exploding in front of him. Now Arlan had been lucky then, being just far enough away the blast singed him a little and rattled his mind instead of incinerating him, but what he experienced now was eerily similar to the aftershock of that affair. It was funny to think that a bottle of ale could do the same to a man as detonator could, and Arlan couldn't help but smirk. It, however; was a smirk he was aware of and bit by bit the fog in his mind began to clear. A few deep hard blinks later Arlan saw himself keeled over, saw his slugthrower in his hand, and saw the silhouette of the barkeep hovering over him. Arlan fell to the ground and spun, his eyes still registering doubles of everything, and could barely make out the figure of the barkeep raising a cudgel of some king to finish the job he started with the bottle. Arlan raised his revolver and let it fly, it's mussel barking and spitting flame and metal towards the barkeep. The man flinched but did not reel in pain nor fall, Arlan had missed. The barkeep lunged, Arlan blinked again and pulled the trigger, then old Pete fell.

Arlan pushed the barkeep's body to the side, rolling over and stumbling to his feet. A quick sweep of his surrounding showed the cantina was empty, the barkeep must have been acting alone for no one stayed to help him. "Fool." Arlan muttered as he looked at Pete's body and holstered his revolver. "Shouldn't have hesitated." He continued, bringing his hand to his head and feeling the gash where the bottle struck. It was going to need stitches but it could wait, the blood was already clotting so if Arlan could stand the pain the injury wouldn't delay his hunt. Arlan stepped into the street and looked both ways, trying to find some sign of what direction the girl headed in. She was good, good enough to know it was better to run than stay and fight with the barkeep. Already she had vanished from the seen, but luckily for Arlan there were few placed she could go at this moment in time. She now knew she was being hunted, knew the longer she stayed on the planet the better the chances of her getting caught were, and she was just good enough to know eventually the docks would start being searched. She would be headed towards her ship, trying to get off world before her would be captor closed in on her, and that was just would Arlan wanted.

"Feeran" Arlan barked over his com-link as he started walking down the street. "I need the location of the nearest dock with ships prepping to leave."

"Transmitting location now, it's not far from your position but you're gonna have to hoof it to catch it in time." A Rutanian voice called back a few moment later.

"I figured that much already. Keep this line open and inform me of any ships leaving the planet, just in case." Arlan spoke, then pocketed the com-link and headed towards the docks.

[member="Allyson Locke"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

The crowd should have been thicker, she cursed her luck that the planet wasn't as inhabited as she had wanted it, more like needed it to be. She knew he would be hot on her trail, guys like that were always good at sniffing people out especially if enough money was attached to it. It was as if the money enhanced their sense of smell or something. Allyson continued to go through the crowd, she thought about taking cuts through the backstreets. As appealing as that thought was, she knew it would only single her out even more. If he caught her singled out that would give him a chance to shoot her.

If she was in public, he would have to be creative. Creativity of course took time - precious time that she was going to abuse and use it to her advantage. The Hanger that she had gotten into wasn’t far from where she was. It was one of the smaller hangers and spaceports, ones used mostly by traders so that they wouldn’t get caught up in the public traffic. She had hoped that maybe he assumed she was going to the public transport hubs, which would make him lose her trail. Groaning though, she knew how her luck worked.

Bringing the comm up to her lips she spoke to the droid on the other end. “Everything almost ready?” A string of beeps and trills came over the comm and Allyson grinned. “Alright, make sure everything is stored up and hidden. Someone is onto us buddy.” The droid made a sound of disappointment. “NO! I didn’t sleep with him or anything. So its not like that. I think he was hired - meaning they’re on to us Bait.” If the droid could curse he would have. She took that as he was going ot finish up and get the ship fired up for them to get the heck out of there as soon as possible.

Seeing a small boutique just a few steps away, she dipped into it and began to busy herself with the crowd of women that were in there. She hid for a moment as she looked through the jackets and attempted to find something to change into. Best bet was that he was going to recognize her clothing and move from there. Looking around, she made note of the emergency exit in the back of the shop. If he decided to step in the shop, she would have a way out.

Hopefully the mechu deru training along with the mechanical lock picking training she received from Kaili Talith would come in handy. Allyson wasn’t in the mood to spill the beans to some bounty hunter. [member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

Arlan walked down the street, albeit briskly, but walked all the same. His people had narrowed down the locations of viable ports to just those with ships preparing to leave, and out of all of those only one was close by. Considering the ship resting in that particular dock didn't start it's launch procedures until just recently it wasn't hard to put two and two together and mark that as his net destination. Still, Arlan doubted that the girl had made it there yet. The crowd seemed to be more or less in god spirits as he walked along, not having been disturbed by anyone running past or bumping into them. That alone told Arlan that the girl was not running towards her ship, but instead was making her way there slowly. That was good, for though it was harder to see her path through the crowd this way there was more time to get to her ship before take off. Arlan's eyes had been trained on the side streets up until this point, but so far he hadn't seen anyone ducking into an alley. She was more than likely sticking to the crowd and if that was so then it wouldn't be too hard to spot her unless she changed clothes upon exiting the bar. Given the fact that Arlan hadn't seen any discarded articles on the ground as he made his way onward he didn't think that was very likely at the moment.

A hand went to his head, flinching back as he touched his injury and felt the pain throb through his skull. It was a stupid move, letting that barkeep get in his blind spot, and it was a miracle that he wasn't dead. He hadn't wanted to kill the man, so few serve good Corellian Ale these days, but in the end there was no choice. It was often like that with Arlan, hoping to cling to some false sense of righteousness despite his line of work. He had long ago figured out that following the edicts of the Jedi and working as a mercenary were two things that just couldn't go together, but still taking a life weighed on him more than it had in the past. He only hoped that whatever happened with this contract he wouldn't be forced to draw on the girl and actually fire, she seemed too young to be doing something like this anyway. Arlan knew everyone had their own reasons but killing a child wasn't something he had hoped to do just to secure a crate of metal. He imagined his employers would see it differently, and Arlan did make it a point to not back out of a contract once excepted, but perhaps just getting the stolen goods back would be enough to end this whole affair once and for all.

Stopping in front of a boutique Arlan checked his data-pad and surveyed his surroundings. It was strange he hadn't seen a trace of the girl since he started out of the bar leading Arlan to believe she may well have changed her attire or ducked into an alleyway somewhere behind him. Going after her might have been a priority, but getting to her ship was far more important. If he could head her off there was a chance he could secure the material without having to face her at all, something that would keep Arlan's conscience clear for another day at least. Stuffing his data-pad back into his jacket Arlan took off towards the docks at a fast walk, hoping he would get there in time.

 

[Allyson Locke]

A new pair of pants and shirt, Allyson stepped out of the boutique. She looked around and saw no sign of the man or anyone else chasing her. It was possible that he had given up the search and she had lost him. Most of the bounty hunters were like that, lazy and if they didn’t get the prey right away they moved on with their lives. Sighing with relief she had hoped that’s what the man did. Though she had come across a few bounty hunters that would let the chase go cold and then appear out of nowhere with a pack of other bounty hunters. Allyson remembered that sticky situation and still really couldn’t put her finger on how she got out of that one in one piece. It was still a good thing she didn’t’ see him, it was relaxing in a way.

Pulling her come from the new pants pocket she radioed her first mate Bait. “Everything good?” The droid trilled back and constantly gave her the updates. Seemingly everything was on track all the shipment was loaded and they were just waiting for her to arrive back to the ship. “Any sign of anyone else coming to the ship?” There was silence and she assumed the droid was making a final scan of the area. There was a happy beep a few minutes later and Allyson nodded. “Good job dude, okay go ahead and get her going.” The comm call finished and Allyson started on her way to the hanger. It wasn’t far and she wouldn’t need to rush too much.

Something in the back of her head though reminded her that she was considerably on the run right now. Groaning, she figured that guy was somewhere still lingering which meant that she was more than likely going to run into him. Her fingers pressed into her temples as she suppressed a frustrated yell. This didn’t happen the last time she was here nor the other time, why now? Shaking her head, she began to jog towards the hanger, she needed to get off this planet like yesterday. [member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

There were very few things that Arlan just plain old hated in this life, and unfortunately the dull pain from a new wound was one of them. He could stand getting shot, or cut, or even burned, but those soft wounds that don't seem to be to severe but hurt just enough to remind you they are there. Those Arlan couldn't get over. The thought of getting waylayed while the girl he was after slipped away only seemed to add to his current frustration, and though he had done in the bastard that cranked him over the head little solace seemed to have been offered. Now Arlan stalked towards the nearby docks in an attempt to catch the girl that had caused his most recent anxiety where he had originally just wanted to get back what she had stole. This whole affair had become a matter of principle for Arlan and he didn't plan on letting anything drop easy until he had gotten his retribution.

So, as it were, he now stood in front of the docks where a ship was requesting leave at this very moment. The registry on the ship was clean, too clean for a dock in so much disrepair, meaning to Arlan that it was more than likely using a fake registration. That screamed smuggler to the mercenary as he stormed into the building with his anger flaring. He doubted she had beat him here, if so she would be gone already, so he knew he didn't need to be in too big a hurry. However; for some odd reason Arlan's body moved on it's own completely ignoring common sense that said to stop and see how things played out. He would find here, or them, or whomever was waiting in the docks, and when he did he didn't plan on things going so cordially.

[member="Allyson Locke"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

Allyson did her best to get to the hanger as fast as she could. Though she did try and make it seem like she wasn’t in a hurry, if the man had alerted local authorities they would have been looking for a girl in a rush. The ship was prepped and ready to go, all that had to happen was her to get onto it. The small crew of men that she had hired got the things loaded on and then went about their business returning to their mundane life on Elrood. Allyson turned the corner to where her ship was and there she was faced with the man that had found her in the bar. Stopping, she groaned knowing this was going to be a mess, but she would do her best to avoid getting killed or arrested – both were out of the question and meant she would be stuck here for a rather long time.

Though being killed, that would mean everything that was going right for her would end as well. Allyson decided to face this head on, there was no point in hiding and trying to sneak about. Brushing her brunette hair from her face she strolled up to the ship and the man. No weapons drawn, yet she coughed loud enough for him to hear and realized she had arrived. “You’re persistent you know that?” Hands on her hips she stood behind him. She was curious as to who he was working for and why he was doing this. Her reasoning for doing it seemed to be the most logical, but sometimes money made people do things that didn’t make sense.

“Why are you doing this?” It was simple and to the point, she was curious and wanted to know. The man could have just forgotten about her, like the others had. Yet, he continued to pursue. The young smuggler wondered if he had some stock in the cargo she was stealing to distribute, which would mean he was one of the crooked rich that jacked up the prices of the metals. That wouldn’t go over too well with the girl. Either way, she needed to figure out how to get around him and onto the ship. [member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

There had been doubts Arlan had chosen the right port to head to, but when working on instinct you couldn't really deal in certainties. Arlan was used to working in such a way, and thankfully it paid off most of the time. People, no matter the species, tended to be fairly predictable. Even the most experienced smugglers and gun runners made most of the same moves when backed into a corner. There were aberrations of course, there always were, but as always Arlan trusted his gut and made chose his plan carefully. Everything was up in the air after that though. If he had not picked the correct hangar the girl would have been able to easily slip away, causing Arlan to pursue in his own vessel. No telling how long it would have taken to catch these smugglers if they got space-ward on Arlan, however; for better or worse things seemed to be looking up for the mercenary. As Arlan stared outward towards the ship preparing to launch a voice called out from behind him. Seems he had made it just in time.

"I could ask you the same thing." Arlan spoke with a smirk as he turned to face the girl. "Aren't you the one breaking the law here? Wouldn't that make you the villain and me the hero?" Arlan pressed as he dropped his hand to his side and rested his palm against the butt of his revolver. "Honestly thought, I could care less what you're reasons are. I was paid to keep those goods from being shipped off-world and I intend to do that." Then, for the longest moment, Arlan said nothing. He simply watched, and waited, for the smuggler to make a move but when nothing came Arlan spoke yet again. "I wasn't hired to take you down, just leave the cargo and you can ply you're trade at a later date."

[member="Allyson Locke"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

“It depends on which side you’re looking at. Both of us are the Hero and both of us are the Villain.” Allyson smiled as she continued to make her way towards her ship. If she was going to talk her way out of this she was going to do it. The last thing she wanted to do was start a firefight - especially with this guy. Her eyes made note about where his hand was and she stopped moving. Her hand rested against her own blasters.

Smiling softly she tilted her head and sighed. “The people that hired you to keep their goods from disappearing off world are destroying the market for the metals.” Shrugging, she kept her hands on her blasters for the most part and slowly took another step towards her ship. “What I’m doing, well what the people I’m working are doing - is trying to fix that market. Without the people who would use the materials for equipment that would help fuel other markets.”

Tapping her cheek, she shrugged once more. “So what is it? Going to keep working for the turds that keep trying to get rich off the poor or help the poor?” To finish her little talk, she gave the sweetest smile a girl her age could pull off. [member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]