Jelan grumbled a bit to himself as he made his way into the more populated, but definately lower class neighbourhoods in what was wildly known as the slums of Halna. These tunnels were so far from the main hub of activity on this side of the moon that the air was low on oxygen, making his breathing a bit labored, and the tunnel lighting was iffy at best, the maintenance not a high priority down here. The flickering lights cast constantly changing shadows over the shambles of various shipping crates, boxes, and piles of trash that served as the 'homes' for the occupants of this sector. Occasionaly he would spot the gaunt forms looking out at him from their hiding places, mainly because he made himself obvious, an emergency glowstick around his neck for his own safety, casting his cloaked form in palid green light. After going rather deep into the tunnels, occasionally questioning the occupants as he went about the location of a certain individual, a loud rustle would sound in front of him.
From the various hiding spots in this section of the tunnels, mostly what appeared to be a burned out husk of a mine car, and scrap metal pyramids, came a collection of sickly looking children, mostly yamatain and geshrin in heritage by their appearances, though there was one with fur that was falling out in clumps...maybe Kodian? The savage group eyed him and the largest of the pack, maybe no older than fifteen, snarled with jagged teeth. Jelan watched the group start to circle him, before his hand came down to the needler at his hip, and a quick draw and crack of ozone as a laser burnt into the rock of the tunnel floor sent the pack scurrying back into their various holes...He just loved rats.
A few yards further into the tunnel, and the place he had been directed to was finally found...a half caved in shipping container, with various holes covered with makeshift welds. Not bothering with formalities, a booted foot thudded into the door, obviously unlocked as it swung in and slammed against the side of the container, clang echoing heavily around the tunnel. The man inside stank of booze, various opiates, and general filth, beard and hair unkempt, garments full of holes and many time stained. Jelan said simply "Richard I assume?" As his boots clanged on the interior of the container. The man muttered out something that could have been a language...if you ran it through a blender.
A boot would hook under the table the man was slumped over, and with a jerk, upset the cardboard thing, collapsing it as well under the sudden movement. The dirty man fell with it, and a boot would find its way atop his gullet, grinding painfully into his shirt "Richard, right?" The drunk gave a weak little nod, and Jelan let up on the pressure "Keep nodding if I'm right...You used to work for Croy Trading...making various trips between Yamatai, Gashmere, and Neplisia...until your boss caught you skimming some of your shipments and selling it on the side..." The man kept nodding, but Jelan pressed down painfully to make sure he was paying attention, causing the drunk to cough up some bile onto his own beard. A disgusted look came over Jelan "Right...Running out of the drugs are we?" His boot slipped under the mans form, and flipped him over onto his stomach "Stand up, slob"
He gave the man a few moments to stand, and then slump back into what could only be loosely called a chair, wiping his dirty beard with his even dirtier jacket. Jelan grinned a bit "I've got an offer....you give me where their ships usually jump to in system, I keep you in enough cash that you can fund that little habit of yours...." The man looked up at him with slightly glazed eyes, and started to mutter something out "It's been a long time...." Jelan's booted foot would find the mans, and start to grind, the long worn boot of the slob giving in pretty quickly as his toes started to be crushed "Its been at most a month...and I find people's memory tends to improve when they start burning...so...time's and coordinates, or you start giving free information." The man looked up at him with those hazy eyes, but they soon cleared as the needler left his holster once more, the stink of ozone still on it, and the man's hands came up, waving back and forth "Ohmkay...."
Jelan gave only a grin, and his pistol was soon reholstered, and a pen and a large sheaf of paper was given to the man, Jelan leaning down to pick up the table, holding it on its edge so he could write on it. A few minutes later, the sheaf was being folded, and placed into his pocket, and he was walking out the door.
"Moneah..." The man mumbled, and Jelan turned, smirk on his face "When I come back...better hope your info was good, asshole." With a casual wave, he left the man with his broken table and busted door, once more making his way up the tunnels, path lit by the green glow about his neck.
From the various hiding spots in this section of the tunnels, mostly what appeared to be a burned out husk of a mine car, and scrap metal pyramids, came a collection of sickly looking children, mostly yamatain and geshrin in heritage by their appearances, though there was one with fur that was falling out in clumps...maybe Kodian? The savage group eyed him and the largest of the pack, maybe no older than fifteen, snarled with jagged teeth. Jelan watched the group start to circle him, before his hand came down to the needler at his hip, and a quick draw and crack of ozone as a laser burnt into the rock of the tunnel floor sent the pack scurrying back into their various holes...He just loved rats.
A few yards further into the tunnel, and the place he had been directed to was finally found...a half caved in shipping container, with various holes covered with makeshift welds. Not bothering with formalities, a booted foot thudded into the door, obviously unlocked as it swung in and slammed against the side of the container, clang echoing heavily around the tunnel. The man inside stank of booze, various opiates, and general filth, beard and hair unkempt, garments full of holes and many time stained. Jelan said simply "Richard I assume?" As his boots clanged on the interior of the container. The man muttered out something that could have been a language...if you ran it through a blender.
A boot would hook under the table the man was slumped over, and with a jerk, upset the cardboard thing, collapsing it as well under the sudden movement. The dirty man fell with it, and a boot would find its way atop his gullet, grinding painfully into his shirt "Richard, right?" The drunk gave a weak little nod, and Jelan let up on the pressure "Keep nodding if I'm right...You used to work for Croy Trading...making various trips between Yamatai, Gashmere, and Neplisia...until your boss caught you skimming some of your shipments and selling it on the side..." The man kept nodding, but Jelan pressed down painfully to make sure he was paying attention, causing the drunk to cough up some bile onto his own beard. A disgusted look came over Jelan "Right...Running out of the drugs are we?" His boot slipped under the mans form, and flipped him over onto his stomach "Stand up, slob"
He gave the man a few moments to stand, and then slump back into what could only be loosely called a chair, wiping his dirty beard with his even dirtier jacket. Jelan grinned a bit "I've got an offer....you give me where their ships usually jump to in system, I keep you in enough cash that you can fund that little habit of yours...." The man looked up at him with slightly glazed eyes, and started to mutter something out "It's been a long time...." Jelan's booted foot would find the mans, and start to grind, the long worn boot of the slob giving in pretty quickly as his toes started to be crushed "Its been at most a month...and I find people's memory tends to improve when they start burning...so...time's and coordinates, or you start giving free information." The man looked up at him with those hazy eyes, but they soon cleared as the needler left his holster once more, the stink of ozone still on it, and the man's hands came up, waving back and forth "Ohmkay...."
Jelan gave only a grin, and his pistol was soon reholstered, and a pen and a large sheaf of paper was given to the man, Jelan leaning down to pick up the table, holding it on its edge so he could write on it. A few minutes later, the sheaf was being folded, and placed into his pocket, and he was walking out the door.
"Moneah..." The man mumbled, and Jelan turned, smirk on his face "When I come back...better hope your info was good, asshole." With a casual wave, he left the man with his broken table and busted door, once more making his way up the tunnels, path lit by the green glow about his neck.
