El Capitán
Ten years ago, Veda would have shot Kevdac for bringing up Mon Gazza. That was definitely not his fault, and he didn’t feel that bad about a few slavers losing their heads — literally. But this was a cooler, calmer Pal Veda. Less rash. Bigger picture. Yet he noticed his finger had unconsciously slipped inside the trigger guard listening to Kevdac talk. Not now.
The Arconan had a point about the Belugan. He was bad off now, but he’d be an even bigger problem when the drugs started to wear off. Making sure others had eyes on Kevdac and guns at the ready, Veda holstered his own blaster and went to work. He took a couple of zip ties from Sack and fastened them around the criminal’s wrists. He took his knife and cut off a long strip from the Belugan’s jacket, then wrapped it through his mouth and around the fleshy sideburns, tying it at the back of his gray head.
“Alright, Cap’, your call.”
Enki Rak
Zar Kevdac
The Arconan had a point about the Belugan. He was bad off now, but he’d be an even bigger problem when the drugs started to wear off. Making sure others had eyes on Kevdac and guns at the ready, Veda holstered his own blaster and went to work. He took a couple of zip ties from Sack and fastened them around the criminal’s wrists. He took his knife and cut off a long strip from the Belugan’s jacket, then wrapped it through his mouth and around the fleshy sideburns, tying it at the back of his gray head.
“Alright, Cap’, your call.”
Enki Rak
Zar Kevdac