"Amy! Amy!"
"Yeah, yeah, take it easy, Rory-man," shouted Amelia as she half-hopped, half-ran down the stairs to
the main deck. "Where's the fire?"
She stopped dead in her track as she rounded the corner and saw the far too familiar scene before her.
She would not have to wait for an answer.
"Well," she said, reaching for her gun to accompany the one already aimed at the stranger. "What have
we got here? Looking for a ride, are you?"
The intruder - a man looking to be around 30 years of age, dressed in a horribly unfashionable tweed
jacket and black dress pants - did not seem to mind the big weapons pointing at his direction. He only
smiled and waved slightly.
"Oh, hello! I seem to have gotten lost. Apparently this isn-"
"He says he got in through the box," said Rory and gestured to the big blue thing that had somehow
escaped Amy's attention up until now, which was probably for the better; had that been the first thing
she'd noticed, she'd probably have thought she was going mad.
"Yeah?" she answered Rory without taking her eyes off the strange man. "What is it? It's looking
pretty... garbage-y to me."
"Hey! Don't diss the TAR-"
"Quiet!" snapped both Amy and Rory in unison.
It was a frequently used tactic of theirs, to talk openly about others as if they weren't there. There was
something about it that seemed to make the people in question feel unsettled, which, of course, were to
the couple's advantage.
"Stowaway, huh?" said Amy, now looking at Rory. "When do you think he snuck in?"
"No idea. Not on Erytheia, that's a given. Just look at his clothes!"
Another tactic. Cue arrogant laughter from them both, and the poor man might just believe them to be
as well-read as they sounded.
"So, husband, what d'you think we should do with him?"
"Actually, if you just let me get to my box, I'll make sure to-"
"Actile is always looking for people to buy, isn't he? This one might not be the kind he's wants, but..."
"That's my Rory, always with a plan on hand. Not sure we'd get that much for this one, though-"
"Hey, money is money, right?"
"Wise words. Besides, I bet Actile could just feed him to the Goliath fish, those ugly bastards are
always hungry."
"No, no! No fish needed, not enough meat on these bones, I assure-"
"I said, shut it!" snapped Amy once again and threateningly held up her weapon, and the man raised
both of his hands in the air.
The armed pair threw one angry glare each on him, and then exchanged a long glance between each
other.
"So we don't sell him, then," said Rory.
"No," answered Amy as she walked up to the man, careful to not lose her aim. "We take him hostage."
"Hostage?"
"Hostage."
"That doesn't work", then said the stranger. "You see, the term 'hostage' implies that you have
something to win, some sort of deal to make with someone who want me alive, and seeing as there's-"
"Shut up, or I'll shoot you in the head," said Amelia with a stern, harsh voice. The man did as he was
told.
"Our ship, our rules," said Amy as she raised her gun to aim between the man's eyes. "You're our
hostage. Now, I advice you to do as we say, or I'm guessing something unpleasant might happen."