Hitchhike

[Shay Cormac]

So, the man walked for a time, not seeing anything particularly new or interesting. As pretty as this verse was, attempting to find any sort of direction as to where to go was... slightly irking. Shay could manage, of course; walking the frontier was not something he was bad at before, but after doing it so often, it got a bit tedious. The Templar almost wished there was something to climb beyond straight tree trunks, or... Even fight, perhaps. The man shook his head; the thought of combat was never pleasing to him, but he knew the thrill it held before. It's been a while since he's been able to enjoy a nice spar or two in a tavern. Ever since...

Shay winced. He instead desired to distract himself from then on. Creating a bit of a mental barrier in his head as he walked, the Templar almost lost sight of any direction he was headed. Another sigh escaped his lips; the slight clinking of his armor reminded the man of where he was and why.

New Babylon. Victor. Retrieve some... girl. He repeated the thoughts. A few more steps forward.

A slight rustle in the bushes at a good distance away from him. A sinking intensity in his gut as he realized something was there. A suspicion that it might have been some sort of small animal. A realization that, after it completely stopped as he hesitated, that it was another human.

The privateer was almost one hundred percent certain that he was correct. He kept walking, looking forward. Whatever, or whoever it was, he'd know by walking past it. Of course, the Templar already had a hand on the pommel of his hand-and-a-half sword. Shay gripped it relatively tightly, practically giving away the intense feeling in his gut.

Shay walked slower than he was already a mere second ago, wading forward as he anticipated another knife coming at his throat. Another. He repeated that word in his head, remembering the few times he's nearly died, or actually faced such a fate. The sound that his leather gloves made beneath his gauntlets as he gripped his sword by the base of the handle was quite audible.

Suddenly, Shay himself stopped, growing tired of being patient with a suspected assassin.

He waited.

...

"Hey," a voice emerged from the bush itself. Male, masked by a helmet, early thirties perhaps. Shay thought, not flinching once that his suspicions were affirmed then and there. Yet, the sinking feeling in his stomach seemed to loosen up. It continued shortly thereafter, wasting no time with introductions.

"I'm going to come out now, so don't try to stab me here. If I had wanted you to try, I'd have made sure of it about thirty seconds ago."

The Templar continued to give a deathly glare to whoever was talking, even if he couldn't see him.

"Who are you?" Shay impatiently inquired. He looked upon the man that rose from the vegetation he was previously hiding in; his armor was similar in structure to a soldier hailing from Coruscant, pouches of ammunition at almost every square inch of his body, yet his plates were adorned in an almost brass-like color. His helmet was unlike anything Shay had seen before with all his knowledge of armor designs of his own world; that was a given considering there seemed to be some sort of rifle strapped to his side, left dangling as his arms were raised. His still distorted voice responded.

"Nobody you should be concerned with; I can't give you my name. Not right now."