03-05-2017, 12:46 PM
The high pitched whine of the Varial Tetrion echoed raucously though the dimly lit transit tube down to Tier 5. Even inside the hermetically sealed cockpit, Drake could hear the turbocharged intakes shrieking as he drafted from lane to lane, causing more near misses in the span of a minute than this entire skyway had seen in the course of a week. The black, bullet-like fuselage of the flying bike gleamed angrily in the dirty yellow light, its single LED headlight blinding every person that Drake pulled up behind. Honestly the smuggler was surprised that anyone down here bothered following any traffic laws. Then again, putting any number of random civvies behind the wheels extremely fast flying cars tended to put the fear of god in the common man.
Luckily for him, he had no god to fear.
That was kind of a tacky line.
Whatever.
Drake wrenched his Tetrion into an off ramp (across three lanes) into the depths of the Fifth Tier. It was a filthy, dangerous part of Coruscant, and it was currently the place that Drake called home. Well. Home was probably a bit of a misnomer, it was the place with the greatest number of his safehouses. Drake was not a rich secondary, by any means, but he did well in comparison to a Prime who could literally make money out of nothing. As long as he kept his ride in good repair, there was not much he chose to complain about.
Bedlam and mayhem were some of those few things. It wasn't as if he constantly relied on Tier 5 being a particularly safe place to be, but his general part of the neighborhood was at least quiet. So, when he eased his Tetrion into its aerial mooring outside his third floor apartment balcony, he was a little upset to see the local dive down the street in the middle of a riot. Violent flashes of red burst out from the windows, momentarily painting the smog of the street in the color of very fresh blood.
"Fuckin' Metalheads." Drake cursed, briefly peeking into his satchel to check on his plasma derringer's charge level. Full bar. A sensible person would have refrained from going anywhere near a bar that had people spilling out of it like a tidal wave of human shit, but bars had drugs, and drugs were money.
...better take the katana for good measure.
As Drake half-jogged down the street, hand jammed into his left pocket, the sounds of the commotion became more clear. There were lots of different kinds of laser gun in Corsucant, but only one had the sort of rugged, digital buzzsaw sound that was coming from inside the Top Kek. Drake poked his head around one of the broken windows, and his suspicions were confirmed. Orkz. Looked like several people were already dead or dying on the floor. The band was still playing though.
Drake rolled his eyes. Artists.
Alright, so how to turn this situation into a profit...
The one-armed man clambered through the shattered plate glass, crouched low to the ground. Red lines of hot death screamed over his head, and people clamored all around him, trying to get the hell out of dodge. Despite the deadly mosh pit, Drake eventually found a corpse, and immediately began picking through the pockets. Hmm...Keys, pocket sanitizer (these people and their damn piercings.), Ooh keep the flash drive, a little blow, assorted pills...wait, what was this red shit? Keep the red shit.
Drake jammed the liberated merchandise into his satchel and pivoted on his feet, keeping a low profile. Let's see...who was next...
Luckily for him, he had no god to fear.
That was kind of a tacky line.
Whatever.
Drake wrenched his Tetrion into an off ramp (across three lanes) into the depths of the Fifth Tier. It was a filthy, dangerous part of Coruscant, and it was currently the place that Drake called home. Well. Home was probably a bit of a misnomer, it was the place with the greatest number of his safehouses. Drake was not a rich secondary, by any means, but he did well in comparison to a Prime who could literally make money out of nothing. As long as he kept his ride in good repair, there was not much he chose to complain about.
Bedlam and mayhem were some of those few things. It wasn't as if he constantly relied on Tier 5 being a particularly safe place to be, but his general part of the neighborhood was at least quiet. So, when he eased his Tetrion into its aerial mooring outside his third floor apartment balcony, he was a little upset to see the local dive down the street in the middle of a riot. Violent flashes of red burst out from the windows, momentarily painting the smog of the street in the color of very fresh blood.
"Fuckin' Metalheads." Drake cursed, briefly peeking into his satchel to check on his plasma derringer's charge level. Full bar. A sensible person would have refrained from going anywhere near a bar that had people spilling out of it like a tidal wave of human shit, but bars had drugs, and drugs were money.
...better take the katana for good measure.
As Drake half-jogged down the street, hand jammed into his left pocket, the sounds of the commotion became more clear. There were lots of different kinds of laser gun in Corsucant, but only one had the sort of rugged, digital buzzsaw sound that was coming from inside the Top Kek. Drake poked his head around one of the broken windows, and his suspicions were confirmed. Orkz. Looked like several people were already dead or dying on the floor. The band was still playing though.
Drake rolled his eyes. Artists.
Alright, so how to turn this situation into a profit...
The one-armed man clambered through the shattered plate glass, crouched low to the ground. Red lines of hot death screamed over his head, and people clamored all around him, trying to get the hell out of dodge. Despite the deadly mosh pit, Drake eventually found a corpse, and immediately began picking through the pockets. Hmm...Keys, pocket sanitizer (these people and their damn piercings.), Ooh keep the flash drive, a little blow, assorted pills...wait, what was this red shit? Keep the red shit.
Drake jammed the liberated merchandise into his satchel and pivoted on his feet, keeping a low profile. Let's see...who was next...
And, we dream of home I dream of life out of here Their dreams are small My dreams don't know fear I got my heart full of hope I will change everything No matter what I'm told How impossible it seems We did it before And we'll do it again We're indestructible Even when we're tired And we've been here before Just you and I
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued