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capencowl20202020-01-14 02:33 pm
BABY WE WERE BORN TO RUN
WHERE: THE STREETS OF THE CITY
WHEN: Duration of the event
WHAT: PRISONER TRANSPORT/RESCUE
WARNINGS: Violence and language likely
OOC NOTES: This is a starter log to help kick off the event. Feel free to use or post your own!
The transport process isn’t a fun one. Captured Metas are outfitted with power-nullifying handcuffs and collars, chained into the back of a heavily armored prison transport vehicle. Normally there’s a huge procession that goes alone with this: more back up vehicles, overhead support, government loyal metals in every vehicle. But this rush of new arrivals has pushed the system to its limits- there’s never been a need to accommodate more than a specific number of known Metas. It has the guards in the vehicles on edge, jumpy as they try to navigate through the City without the usual back up. And it’s a strain the resistance is more than ready to push to the breaking point.
In addition to transporting new arrivals to their reprogramming, there are the already-present Meta prisoners that must still be shuffled around, causing a mix of old and new in the vehicles. And irresistible targets for liberation for the resistance groups. When the transport is hit, which will the new Metas side with? Your captors you may still be able to gain a comfortable life working with? Or the rebellion fighting their way into the vehicle?
no subject
If I'd wanted to kill him, [Fett says,] I would have.
[It isn’t unheard-of for the Empire to detain children. Fett can guess as to reasons: petty crime, relation to known dissidents, Force-sensitivity, conscription. Or something more serious. Fett had started killing when he was around this boy’s age; he knows better than anyone not to underestimate children’s potential for violence.
He crouches down to the boy’s level, less to be reassuring and more for a better look. After all, there’s nothing reassuring about being in the sights of that implacable black visor. The boy doesn’t look like a street urchin or petty criminal. He hadn’t sounded like one either.]
You don’t seem like the Empire’s usual fare...
[There's no question attached to the remark, but judging by the slight angling of his helmet, it's easy enough to tell that he's looking for an explanation.]
no subject
That's why you should take him to the doctor. To make sure he'll live.
[Eddie's eyes grow wide when the guy crouches down and he tenses up, expecting violence. He's an eighties kid and can piece together the mask and the empire reference, but can't understand the link between a galaxy far away and this world. This guy is clearly nuts. He can feel the tension building n his chest, the feeling of the air being squeezed out of his lungs and he hopes he can hold off the asthma/panic attack.]
Because I'm not. There's been a mistake. Someone fucked up big time. You should let me go and find the real guy that's supposed to be here, before your bosses get all pissed off and take it out on you.
no subject
What’s your name?
no subject
I'm Eddie. [He answers quietly.] I really don't belong here. Can't you see that? [He manages to say in between wheezing.]
I need my inhaler.
no subject
[On the off-chance there was a mistake and this boy isn’t a fugitive, someone further down the line can make the decision to turn him loose. It doesn’t concern Fett—his job is making sure the cargo reaches its destination. Nothing more and nothing less.
The helmet tilts, just slightly, at Eddie’s request. Between the word itself and the wheezing sound the boy is making, Fett can guess that an inhaler is some kind of medical device to facilitate breathing. Not that Fett is convinced that the prisoner actually needs one, nor would he be able to provide one even if he did.]
You could breathe fine a few seconds ago.
no subject
[He looks into that mask again, wondering if he'd see the same blank look he'd seen in others - as if they'd all forgotten that other world. If only Bill was there, he'd have the right words to say.]
You have to know this is wrong. Not just me being here. All of this is wrong. The whole fucking world, the fucking universe is wrong. You can make choices. Make it right.
[He's worked himself up getting those thoughts out and closes eyes eyes, just wheezing, his face turning red from the effort to draw in air.]
It's an asthma attack. [He mumbles without opening his eyes.]
no subject
[And he chose to be the hunter rather than the hunted. It’s not his problem if others chose differently.
The boy’s face is turning red as he continues to wheeze. It’s an enthusiastic display, to be sure. But Fett has watched people suffocate before. They’re usually quieter.]
You talk a lot for someone who can’t breathe.
no subject
No, someone chose for you and brought you here. Why doesn't anyone get that?
[He shakes his head, trying to clear his mind of that thought. He can panic enough to have an attack; he doesn't want to find out if he could make his breathing stop completely and pass out or worse.]
It's just asthma.
no subject
Alright, [he says, voice neutral.] Who brought me here?
no subject
[He concentrates on his breathing for a few moments, trying to draw in enough air to say everything he wants.]
I think it's the government. Other people say other stuff, like the porters are kinda alive somehow.
no subject
Finally, he stands and steps away from the boy, returning to his original position in the transport.]
Keep breathing, [he orders, dismissive.] You’ll think more clearly.
no subject
C'mon, dude. Do you see Darth Vader or Jabba the hut anywhere?
[He has to get through him to somehow.]
Look out the window. Does it look like we're going anywhere near the empire?
no subject
The point of hiring a bounty hunter, [he says evenly.] Is that people like Darth Vader don’t have to show up.
[He’s not sure what either of their presences have to do with the situation anyway. Does the boy think Fett will abandon his duties just because his employer isn’t looking over his shoulder?
He’s even less impressed by his next point.]
It looks like we’re on a civilized planet. So, yes.
no subject
[They might have, but Eddie hasn't been there long enough to know about the resistance and runaway metas. He speaks slower and calmer, hoping to get his breathing under control. It's easier with space between him and Fett.]
You didn't hunt us. We showed up through a porter and got arrested by wack jobs.
[He shifts as best he can, trying to get more comfortable.]
What planet? C'mon, a bounty hunter would at least know the name of the planet he's on.
no subject
The question gets a bemused glance. He isn't following the boy's logic. Why wouldn’t Fett know the name of the planet he’s on?]
Denon.
[Obviously.]
no subject
Wrong. It's Earth.
[A fucked up version, but he figured they still called it Earth.]