The means to repair and modify an airship were few and far between when you were counted as a fugitive of the law. Fuel wasnât an easy come by either, and parts were all scavenged from junk piles and abandoned Garlean refuges. Titus had plans, he always had plans but very few of what he had in mind could be acted out without the airship having any gas to accomplish the missions he held in store.Â
This was how Fredrick found himself with Red Bull, sneaking across the bleak grey landscape of Northern Thanalan with the mission of breaking into one of the old compounds and scavenging out what fuel could be found. This was where much of the needed Ceruluem was produced and stored, it was only a matter of finding the right building. With the information Titus had delivered, the one they intended to break into housed a great deal of the vibrant, blue fuel.Â
The pair made an efficient team, with Fredâs eagle eye and Red Bullâs sense of tactical approach. Their biggest concern here was bandits, much of the Garleans having evacuated and retreated, leaving this compound barren and empty. Red Bull seemed skeptical as Fred took point, leading them throughout the sterile, metal facility. Photographic memory ensured the male had remembered the entire layout that Titus had drawn and he led with sure footed steps.Â
It was when they reached a large metal door that Fredrick stopped, holding up a fist to indicate the coming halt. The Hound studied the frame, at least seven inches worth of thick metal making the door a solid barrier to get through, with only a terminal to admit entry. Fredrick was at a momentary loss, a frown creasing his sweat stained brow as he looked back to Bull.Â
âDamn things locked to seal out a whole army. Pretty sure this is it, but I canât open the damn door.â An uneasy feeling had settled within the manâs stomach but he couldnât place it, and he glanced past the large Roe, narrowing his eyes.Â
Red Bull shook his head. âI got it, donât worry about it.â With a single step forward, the manâs large gait closed the distance between himself and the terminal, pressing big red fingers into the buttons. Each clicked red as he entered the sequence and with the final number placement, the screen lit up green and the door slid open, emitting a hiss of air as cold breathed in through the now open door.Â
âHoly damn.â Fred murmured, looking back in awe. Shelves upon shelves were stacked with the precious blue fuel. Each metal cannister was about four feet long and three feet wide, a blue glass screen showing the cyan liquid within. Theyâd hit the jack pot with this run and quickly, Fred began to set the small devices along the room that would transfer the fuel to the anchor point that Titus had set up for this mission.Â
It was when both him and Red Bull placed the last device that the pair stopped, hearing foot steps echo along the metal grating of the walk way that led to their position. In one smooth motion, Fredrick lifted his cross bow while Red Bull hoisted his double barrel shot gun, both sighting down the single entry way. A group of five of the roughest men that Fred had ever seen soon made an appearance, led by a cobalt skinned sea wolf who seemed none too surprised to find the duo there.
âWell, well. Lookie hereâŠlooks like you two fellows did all the heavy lifting. Glad that you both could lend a hand.âÂ
Fredrick frowned, shaking his head. He took the diplomatic approach. âLook, we ainât here to cause trouble. We found the fuel first, weâre leaving with it. End of story.âÂ
The large Roe laughed, boisterous and hacking, as if he smoked at least two packs a day. âHeh. Sorry kid. That ainât how itâs going down. More of us than there are to you. I wagerâŠsix on one ainât a fair fight, so why donât you lay down your weapon.âÂ
It was then that a few things began to click into place for Fredrick. Bullâs demeanor had been odd over the past two months. Disgruntled and argumentative with Titus, stirring trouble and mouthing discontent with the lifestyle they led. Things had been going poorly, and then, over the last two weeks, Bull had gone quiet. He thought the Hellsguard had gotten over himself. It was only then that he realized Bull held the countenance of a man biding his time.Â
Red Bull turned then, his shot gun pointing directly at Fredrick. âSorry, Fred. Itâs just business.â His finger tightened on the trigger.Â
Meant to tag you guys: @ace-lawson, @kris-lawson
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