@flightxless ( plotted starter )
“Where the hell is it, Kasamali?”
Of all the jobs Shoya had ever taken, this one had probably gone the most poorly. All she’d had to do was make a simple trade. Some artwork for some medical supplies. Her client had supplied the fuel and provided half the payment up front. Easy money.
Except, of course, when those she was meant to be trading with had opened fire on her and she’d barely escaped with her life. She’d returned empty handed, and no explanation was good enough for her client.
“I have told you. There were complications. I was fired upon and had to run.” The translator hanging from Shoya’s belt couldn’t spit the words out fast enough for her liking. “I know that I do not have what he agreed on. I will return the payment you already gave me.”
“That’s not good enough.” The man towered over Shoya -- which, considering her height, didn’t take much. “I paid for your fuel. I expected you to come through. How am I supposed to continue my trade without these supplies?”
“Sir, I am sorry, I do not--”
With a roar, the man stepped back and raised his arm to strike her. Shoya shrank back, arms flying up to shield her face.
