I’m back!

I haven’t really posted this week, haha. Basically I met with friends and locked myself in the National Diet Library. Also avoided a typhoon.

Anyway, now I’m in Amsterdam, and my flight back to France is in four hours :) strangely enough, I don’t feel tired at all despite the long flight and being up since 4:30AM to get to Narita on time.

And here I conclude a new trip! Next one: april 2019!

Escape

Jezari wanted a cargo job, not someone else’s enemies. But in the galactic underworld, you don’t always get what you want.

Whumptober 2021 prompt #25: flight

9.1.8, night

Jezari sprinted down the nearly deserted street, looking frantically for somewhere to hide. She had a lead on her pursuers, but not nearly enough of one, and she couldn’t keep up her pace much longer. Her breath came in gasps, her heart thudding in her chest. She had to hide.

There were piles of refuse here and there along the grimy street, but none large enough to hide her. The doors to the buildings were closed and locked against the night, or occupied by thugs who watched her flight with amusement. She didn’t have to guess if they’d point her way to the people chasing her.

It wasn’t even her they wanted! She’d had a line on a possible cargo job and gone to meet the client, only to have him slip away “for another drink” and leave her to face his enemies. She didn’t know why they wanted him; she hadn’t stuck around to find out. The moment they’d started in with the threats, she’d tipped the table onto them and ran for it.

At another time of day, that would’ve been that. But nobody stuck around the port side of town at night. Not unless they were the trouble everybody else wanted to avoid.

She skidded around a corner, lungs screaming. She had to hide. Or circle back around and make for the Luck. She stopped for a moment, panting. She couldn’t push herself any further. Hiding was the only option.

The dark mouth of a narrow alley gaped invitingly. She flung herself at it with the last of her strength. The narrow slit reeked of rotting trash, and worse. She stumbled forward, trying not to gag. Something was dead, somewhere in the darkness.

Too late now. She forced herself onward. She knew the kind of people who’d listen to reason, and it wasn’t the thugs on her tail. They’d already made up their minds she was with the Devaronian. Maybe they’d figure it out after they tried to beat “the truth” out of her, maybe they wouldn’t. They weren’t getting the chance.

She squeezed past a pile of crates and squashy lumps she hoped were only garbage. Maybe nobody had seen her go into the alley. Or maybe they’d made for the other end of it to cut her off. She stopped. Shit. She hadn’t thought of that. For all she knew, she was trapped.

Her temples throbbed. Water (or something liquid) dripped slowly somewhere ahead of her. Metal squeaked above her, like an old sign catching the breeze. No footsteps. No shouts. Maybe she had lost them.

The clattering thump of running feet came again. Behind her, out on the street.

Damn it.

She looked around and up, trying to make out the shadowy shapes. The running feet had stopped. She had to go somewhere they wouldn’t expect. She couldn’t trust that the alley had another exit. She couldn’t wait for them to come to her. She was outnumbered and probably outgunned. And if they were bounty hunters, blasters were the least of her worries.

Was that blotch above her head a window? There was a ledge. She pulled herself up, shoved at the darkness. It didn’t give. But the ledge was wider than she’d expected. She scrambled onto it, balancing awkwardly.

Something else protruded from the building. A broken drainpipe? Whatever it was, it held her weight. Another window ledge. A broken spot in the duracrete. A half-rotten ladder, or something like one.

Lights flashed beneath her and she nearly lost her footing.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. She clung to the rough metal, her eyes shut. There were voices, too low to make out the words. Don’t look up. Don’t look up.

A crunch and a splattering sound below her. Garbage? Murder? She didn’t want to know. She forced her eyes open, let go of her current handhold, reached for the next. One more meter. Two. The roof of the building. As quietly as possible, she rolled onto it.

The voices below were louder now. Angry.

She didn’t trust herself to stand. Her limbs felt weak and wobbly. Too much running, too much climbing. She crawled quietly across the roof. All she had to do was get far enough away and find another way down. Or a speeder or swoop parked on a neighboring rooftop.

The next building was a little taller, but flush against the building she was on. She leaned against the wall for a moment. She could no longer hear her pursuers, just her own too-fast heartbeat. Put more space between them. Find transportation. Get back to the Luck.

She took a deep breath and pulled herself onto the next roof.

Tags: whumptober 2021, no.25, flight, fic, swtor, I write,  Jezari Solarin