So I drew a picture on Deviantart surrounding this story I thought up and after consideration I decided to get the first chapter done to see where it would go. So here's a story.

Please review :)


Chapter 1: Smog and Smuggling

Luminopolis was one of the brightest and largest cities in Polaris; packed with both sky scraping buildings thousands of stories high, lights illuminating the sky and streets brighter than the sun itself. But, behind all light is darker things. Lumopolis had duller areas below the bright lights above, where unwanted things like crime, illegal trade and other slimy activities roamed secretly yet somewhat obviously.

The people there were no different; dirty dealers, swindlers, gamblers, thieves, criminals and smugglers.

Smuggling was a risky but prosperous line of work; you get the stuff everybody wants and are ready to pay bundles to get a hold of- like weapons, ammo, information, chemicals, anything made illegal that slimy people wanted in Polaris.

The Black Market deep down within the city was dull and shadowy; much like in habitants. Despite the crowds and cluttering, there wasn't as much noise to be heard as there would be in a more...honest market. People spoke in gruff, low tones, eyes fluttering back and forth encase of onlookers or eavesdroppers. People had daggers in their eyes and behind their backs, and here, pretty much in all of their pockets and bags.

It was musky and crumbling in the roots of the city, shadows of stalls raised up to cast darkness on the occupants and tables, benches and whatnot overflowing with unorganised, forbidden merchandise. Smoke and ash was always present in the scent of the air, as where the murky smell of scum.

The Smuggler was no stranger to these parts, and strode rather confidently (but not enough to draw attention) through the crowds, head slightly bowed, his long brimmed hat leaned over his forehead. His yellow, reptilian eyes scanned his surroundings. He took long, steady steps, boots parted the dust gathered beneath on the road. He chewed on his toothpick with a frown, lifting his large hat up just a little as he came to a halt.

His destination was Ollo's Weapon Stand; a usual customer of his services. Most of the weapons and ammo he could see on the stall where things he himself had smuggled in. Now he noticed they'd been taken apart, and each piece of each weapon had its own individual price. Smuggler couldn't help but smirk just a little, moving his toothpick to the other side of his jaw.

Trust Ollo to whip up a scheme like that to get people's money: Get them to buy all the parts for more than the whole thing would cost all together. Poor saps wouldn't know they'd been swindled.

Ah well, it's a cruel galaxy.

He gave a slight sniff and plucked his toothpick from his lips, tossing it aside and hitching his heavy cargo sling further up on his shoulder and continued over to the short, tubby and slimy looking markazian, a certain feather companion of his flying ahead to greet his client first.

"Rark, We're back, We're back, betta have money!"

Smuggler scowled slightly at this blunt entrance and strode up to the stand, where the markazian spotted him with a wide-eyed look. Then, he grinned in oily pleasantness.

"Ah, Smuggler ma old friend." He drawled, hands up towards him as if the Smuggler couldn't see himself and needed to be pointed out, "What a pleasure."

The Smuggler rose a brow and sniffed a little, ignoring the parrot that was glaring at the smaller man sourly. He allowed a lopsided smirk. "Long time, Ollo. Pleasure's all yours."

Ollo laughed darkly, hands clasped together and he glanced at the side. "Aaaah...Now, If you don't mind me ask-ing..."

Clunk.

Smuggler dropped his heavy load of illegal ammo onto the stall stand with a predictably smug air, grinning down at the alarmed markazian, who's jumped back with a comical wave of his arms.

Ollo forced a grin at him. "Much obliged."

"Welp, ye asked for more, an' ye gottit." Smuggler commented, positioning his weight onto one leg and placing one hand on his hip. "Now that you've got yer stuff, Ah wan' ma pay."

He added a slightly darker note to his voice, frowning down at Ollo. He was, of course, referring to the last time he'd delivered and the little slimeball hadn't paid. Next time, he kept say'n. Let your clients and buyers do that too much and you'll never get your money. Parrot piped up at this, hopping beside Ollo.

"Rargh, Pay up, Pay up, shorty!"

Ollo sneered at him with slight disgust, turning back to the tall reptilian man before him. "Ah, yes." He inhaled deeply, placing both grubby hands together, fingers parralel, "There mya have been a setback with my, shall we say, banker. It may be possible I will not have all of your pay, Smuggler."

He looked back up at him, having stared at the wooden stand through his whole excuse, and almost squeaked. Smuggler was a tall being, and this shadowy part of the city, his slightly luminous yellow eye boring down on you were the last thing you wanted to see.

Not to mention the sharp dagger blade he was spinning idly in his hand.

Smuggler took a sharp breath, scowling down at Ollo. "Now lookey here, ye little slimeball. I let ye off with a warnin' last time with all that 'I'll pay ya later' garbage, so now ya owe me double."

Ollo wasn't able to hide his unease, and Smuggler saw his chance to get his point across. He seized the hapless criminal by the frost of his grimy shirt and hauled him up to eye level, which considered the different in species was quiet a height.

"Ya get me ma bolts now, and ah won' skin ya." He grinned in an almost friendly way, "Course that's only a warnin'"

"Alright, Alight!" Ollo screeched, raising both hands up in surrender. Smuggler dropped him unceremoniously onto the floor. He could have sworn he'd seen the chubby little grub bounce a few times. Parrot hopped onto his shoulder and gestured to him stoutly.

"Rargh, Wimp of the wimps."

"Got tha' right, par'ner." Smuggler commented as he watched the markazian in question hurry back behind the curtains; to the building behind his stall to retrieve the payment. Smuggler drummed his fingers on his hip and popped another toothpick into his mouth, impatient.

He took a moment to gaze around the dark, dirt street below the lights of Luminopolis and couldn't help but wonder again if they even knew about the dealing occurring below them. That, and if they even gave a darn. Not that he had a problem with that, though.

Ollo finally returned with the bag of bolts, and Smuggler and his partner grinned simultaneously as it was tossed their way. Ollo grumbled to himself as he hauled the newly arrived ammo off the countertop and turned, shooting a glare over his shoulder as he spotted the Smuggler checking to make sure the bolt inside were all actually bolts.

Traitorous world out here.

Happy that the payment was ironically honest, Smuggler tipped his hat towards Ollo and turned and flashed a crooked grin. "Be seein' ya, Ol."

"It'll be all too soon." He heard him grumble before he was out of earshot.

As he strode back the way he came, the Smuggler began counting the bolts; a little past time of his he found entertaining. Parrot sat idly on his shoulder, glaring at signs now and again and mumbling about what a load of garbage they were.

They were interrupted when something collided with one of the Smuggler's long legs, knocking him off balance. The man stumbled but regained control quickly, glaring over his shoulder as he spotted a bunch of teen ruffians charging down the street caterwauling like nobodies business. His teeth ground on his toothpick as he glared after them.

It was that moment when he noticed one of his bolts had been knocked from the pouch he'd recently received, and spotted it rolling a little way down the street. Out of the corner of his non-patched eye, he saw some of the teens that had so kindly run into him had hung around.

His eye narrowed.

But, the bolt did not roll to any of them. Instead, it hit again the toes of a very small pair of feet. Smuggler rose a brow and spotted a very small tyke gazing curiously down at the shiny thing. He was surprised, a bit, to see that the little thing was one of his species despite a few differences (like height, for one. The tyke was tiny.) But what surprised him more was that the kid was probably the youngest person in this whole, scum-filled sector.

Said kid reached down and plucked the bolt up in small, pudgy hands and turned it over, admiring the shiny metal. Smugger scowled and strode over. Innocent-looking or not, that was his bolt the little short fry was holding.

The little person didn't see the tall shadow looming over them until Smuggler was standing over them, a lean giant glowering down. The kid looked up at his with wide, brown-rimmed pupils and gaped silently, clutching the bolt.

Smuggler leaned down and held out a hand. "You give tha' back now, Lil' Mite"

The kid stared up at him blankly, mouth hanging open slightly. The Smuggler found himself wondering whether the kid was a boy or a girl- too young to even tell. Six, maybe? Who knew.

"Give it here." He held his hand further out, an impatient note edging at his voice. The kid glanced at his hand, then back up at him. Then, one of the on-looking teens abruptly cut in.

"RUN!"

The Smuggler had made the mistake of glancing at the one who yelled, and the tiny kid who held his bolt jumped and ran- looking like they had no idea what they were doing.

"Darnit." Was all he could grumbled. He gave a short sprint after the kid, who looked over their shoulder and squealed upon seeing that he followed. Judging by that voice, it sounded like the tyke was a girl. She ducked to the side suddenly, and with a wide eye he saw her slip into a tiny gap between two buildings, giving a small wail of fright as he glanced back at him again.

He had to stop just outside the gap leaning a hand on the wall of one of the buildings. The kid vanished from sight, and he sighed grudgingly, frowning. Parrot remarked,

"Rargh, we just got robbed by a lil' girl."

"Can it, ya feather head." Despite his retort, who couldn't help but feel annoyed- for the two reason his partner had just outlined. His a scowl, he flicked his hat so it sat on his head at a better angle and strode of irritably, grumbling to himself.

In the darkened, narrow gap between the buildings, the little girl poked her head past the wall and watched him go with a curious yet frightened look, still clutching the bolt uncertainly.