[outsiders] The Escafil Incident

[tradecraftdude]

Marco and Rachel juggle some Andalite technology.

Sometime after the mameshiba infestation...

Just another delivery boy, making another delivery. A delivery boy packing light weapons and wearing armor under his pizza shop uniform.

That's Marco, scooting by on foot, trying his best to look casual. His backup Eclipse bro keeps pace a few turns behind him, but they have to stay far enough apart to not draw any attention to the fact that Marco's pizza carrier might actually contain more than a pizza. Hell, Marco doesn't even really know if he's carrying something hot---they make him do dummy drops once in a while just to keep everyone on their toes.

But they're coming up on a blank part of the station; wider streets, fewer alleys to duck through, less people to use as cover. If anyone's going to mug a pizza boy for his order, they'd do it here.

Marco throws a glance back over his shoulder to see if his backup's still in sight.

Comments

[shutupmarco]

Too bad for you, Marco. Your lousy Eclipse backup's no good to you when you've got a krogan on your ass.

Rachel's loathe to admit it, but her grizzly bear morph only gets her so far on this station, and elephant's right out. Luckily for her, she's been able to borrow the form of one of her Blood Pack compadres, which works out extra well because no one really makes armor in Rachel's size on this station. It's not so much the height as it is the fit.

She about jumped at the chance to take this job when she heard about it. The rumors -- maybe they're only just rumors, but Rachel can't afford to risk doing nothing if they're not. So Rachel was expecting a small package, but she wasn't expecting...Marco.

He'd probably make a stupid innuendo at that thought, but for a second Rachel feels a chill in her hot-blooded krogan veins. They said Eclipse was supposed to be carrying the package, and that goon obviousy tailing Marco is obviously Eclipse -- she's had too much experience spying as a seagull to be fooled by him -- but Marco? A mercenary? Maybe she could see it for the Marco she knows, the real Marco. He's always been the look-out-for-himself type. Totally fits the bill. But this isn't the real Marco. This is the wimpy, weenie Marco. Marco Lite. Diet Marco. She could go on, but the moment's getting away from her.

Ugh, well -- it's not like this changes things. If anything, it makes her even more determined to swipe that package. The last thing she needs is the blue box falling into the hands of Marco with a side of extra dweeb.

Take care of the backup, first thing. As if that's hard. Stealthy even as a krogan, Rachel waltzes around behind Marco's merc buddy and takes advantage of the passing cover of a support column to drop him with a quick, clean blow to the back of his neck.

[tradecraftdude]

Diet Marco doesn't see his backup going down, but he does notice a conspicuous lack of following through that last turn. Weird. Maybe his bro stopped for a leak. He pauses for a moment, bending over to check his shoelaces, then whipping out the fake order information for the fake order, as if he was stopping for directions. Anything to stall.

He can't stall forever without looking suspicious. When his backup still doesn't show, he knows he has to push on. Sigh. Maybe this is just a drill to see how he does on his own. Maybe it's for real. He doesn't have a lot of options either way, because if he bails, he's out. Out meaning ejected into space or something.

One more step and he's in the creepy quiet street. No one can hear you scream here, Marco. And if they did, they probably wouldn't care.

If he can get through two blocks of this, he's clear.

[shutupmarco]

Has he noticed he's gained a new tail, or just that he's lost his old one? Doesn't matter. He's leaving himself wide open. Rachel sees an opening and she lunges for it.

The scattered vorcha and batarians clinging to the corners barely bat an eye when a Blood Pack krogan appears out of nowhere and hoists Marco up by the back of his shirt before he's even got time to react. Rachel can't help an inward grin, a thrill. Sure, this is serious, she needs to make sure the blue box is safe if it really is the blue box, but the prospect of messing with Marco in the process is too good to pass on.

"And where do you think you're going going, scrawny little human?" Rachel leers in the deep, rumbling krogan bass. She gives him a little shake, suppressing the urge to laugh. "Isn't this a little out of your delivery radius?"

[tradecraftdude]

As soon as Marco's feet come off the ground, he's cursing inside; this is exactly what his backup should be preventing. The delivery bag still swings from his shoulder, and he clutches at his precious order with one hand while trying to reach into his jacket for his pistol with the other. The fabric's pulling too tight, constricting his movements.

"Hey, dude, you're gonna jiggle all the toppings loose!" he shouts, playing the dumb pizza boy, legs kicking helplessly. "I'm on an order here! You got a problem with my route, you call up the routing office!"