Borisov- Bulgaria
Radacanu- Romania
Andrei- Moldova
...
Maybe Logan felt some shred of remorse at the thought of his little Owenni nemesis possibly dying alone in the loading bay of a space station absolutely swarming with criminals who would be sure to finish them off, even if he couldn't. Maybe their drained face and twitching fingers as they reached for him occupied his mind a tad too much as he sat alone in his cockpit and he wondered if he'd been too harsh on the little titch. But on the other hand, fuck em.
Only Logan was allowed to call himself scum.
He felt like scum here too though; oh boy, he sure knew how to pick his locations. The planet Balmyna was, to be blunt, an absolute shithole. It was a place people only went if they had nowhere else to land, a choked rock. Not only was it a barren, rugged wasteland where no crops grew and most of the population was in crippling poverty, but the one reasonably civilized settlement was also a dictatorship for added measure. Not only was it a dictatorship, but it was a dictatorship that didn't fuck about when it came to catching and executing criminals, particularly gangs as notorious and as dangerous as the Death Adders. And maybe the Owennii too but they weren't as important to Logan. He made sure to leave his jacket in his ship, and a scarf around his neck was the only thing hiding his easily recognisable tattoo from the ever present police patrolling the city, and keeping Logan from a death sentence. If he was discovered, and somehow wasn't shot on sight, then he doubted a trial would make up part of his remaining hours. Only a prison he would be lucky to survive and, before that, an interrogation little more than torture.
Buiya - the city state he found himself in - was a crowded, clustered place, a mess of houses carved into the side of a mountain, zigzag streets snaking up to a palace on a plateau Logan couldn't currently see, but had had a spectacular view of from his ship. The specks of green making up the palace gardens were the only dash of colour in this suffocated world - even the gold of the palace roofs tended to blend in with the glaring sun and sandstone. It was a grand building, the grounds bigger than the city itself and dotted with other, smaller buildings Logan wasn't classy enough to guess the purpose of, but they looked far more important than the average home in Buiya, with white walls and gold roofs. The rooms of the palace must've been bigger than anything Logan had ever seen, like wide fields of marble and the softest beds and sofas imaginable. Maybe he could buy something like that when he gave his boss the artifact.
A big fancy palace didn't sound all too appealing to him, but a massive garden full of plants and strange animals would be the perfect retirement plan.
The street Logan found himself in was bordered by a row of houses to the right, and a drop to the next street on the left. The road itself was simply the flat roofs of the houses below him, precariously thin and teeming with people, carts, stalls and animals, a mess of marketplace one could easily get lost in if needed - or, more commonly, by complete accident. And no, there was no railing to stop anyone falling off the edge, and a few people had done so right before Logan's very eyes. No one seemed genuinely hurt by their falls though. The street was steep in its climb to the palace, but luckily most of the hand-pulled traffic could levitate off the ground, saving the people some back strain from having to pull their work through cobblestones of all things. Who still used cobblestones to pave their roads? The people of Buiya, apparently.
Logan wasn't just here for the thrill of it though; he had to get that damn hand of his fixed and pick up supplies before he made that final stretch back to the boss. The shrivelled, toothless, little surgeon that stitched his hand and applied the salve that would allow his flesh to knit back together had swindled him out of most of his money, and Logan knew just killing him, although straightforward and cheaper, would most certainly not go unnoticed. He'd never make it to his ship alive.
He had little left in his pocket for fuel, but decided it wasn't the biggest deal to him; the boss would soon be blowing this shithole out of existence.
As big as the dangers were, Balmyna was a popular spot with both the Death Adders and the Owennii, due to the government having absolutely no information on both gangs and their members. Sucks when none of the other planets wanted to align themselves with you and share vital information on criminals because you kept violating basic sentient rights and refused to cooperate with planet unions. It meant credit sticks - the galaxy-wide form of currency - were obsolete here, but he could find an exchange point somewhere the change up some more of his money, right? Or pickpocket, it would serve this planet right for still using paper money of all things.
Logan felt he was reasonably good at blending in, looking like any other weary, beaten-down resident of Buiya just trying to find something he could afford to eat. He looked like the other men here: dark and tall and muscular, and easily could've spent his day in the mines or sat in his little workshop repairing and crafting. He kept his head down, kept his eyes from wandering too far and kept walking forward.
Right into the Owennii.
Logan would've liked a moment to ponder just what Hunapo was doing right in front of him when they were supposed to be fighting for their pathetic little life, or running back home to their mother like the scared kid they were. He would've liked a moment. But Hunapo was already waving their spear in his face and hurling abuse.
Fair enough, he supposed, ducking to avoid the path of fiery red. He did try and kill them - not that Logan was actually able to finish them off - but could they please calm down and not draw attention to them both in a place like this? They didn't look capable of calming down though, eyes blazing and normally smooth face twisted into an ugly snarl. Their t shirt was still torn from their previous encounter, and their nuclear heart glowed almost menacingly at him.
"You absolute bastard!"
"That's all well and good," he hissed, leaping back out of the path of their spear, "but could you keep it down a little? Now's not the time."
"What do you mean?" Hunapo almost screeched, "since when did that matter?"
"Since -" well he couldn't go ahead and say it now; the two of them were starting to attract a crowd of curious onlookers, hungry for a bit of action. These kinds of disturbances would not be welcome amongst authority figures though.
"Look," he tried instead, "how 'bout we go find an alley somewhere and you can stab me in peace?" Preferably before this crowd attracted the attention of -
"What's going on here?"
Oh fuck nevermind. As if the very stars themselves personally decided to fuck up his day, a pair of utterly terrifying policemen barged through the crowd to see what the fuss was all about. The two were smaller than him by a long shot, but they had guns and they outnumbered him, plus Logan wasn't too sure just how to run away in such a crowd.
He only spared a glance at their nametags - Borisov and Radacanu - and their faces. Borisov had dark hair and a hard, lined face, cautious as he scanned the situation. Radacanu, however, seemed more excitable and hopeful about the whole scene. And Logan, for the life of him, couldn't tell which of the two would be more trigger happy.
There was only one way he could think of that would get rid of pretty much every problem he had at once, so Logan wasted no time in stalling.
"Look!" he cried, brandishing a finger at Hunapo, "an Owennii!" He grabbed Hunapo by the shoulder, spinning them round to show off the jacket they apparently didn't think of removing beforehand, and the jagged kiwi symbol emblazoned across the back.
As if trained in the art of being a pantomime crowd, those gathered gasped beautifully in shock, some even reeling and fainting at the sight. Apparently they'd not been paying attention to Hunapo's clothing before, attentions taken up by their bright red spear.
"You fucker," they hissed before twisting round to yank off his neckscarf. "Look! Look at his tattoo! This man is a Death Adder!"
On the one hand, they were a dirty little snitch. On the other, Logan supposed he deserved that. Nevertheless, he wasted no time in tripping them over and bolting off into the crowd, sending scrawny little people flying in all directions.
Hunapo, for some Godunknown reason, scrambled up and darted right after him. Logan scowled at that, and wasted no time in charging off to the right and jumping down onto the streets below. He hit the floor with a grunt, wind knocked from his lungs and hands screaming with pain. No time. Logan hauled himself up, despite protests from his joints, and got running again. He knocked a floating cart of vegetables aside in his haste, glancing back to find not only Hunapo had followed him down, but the two policemen too.
Could a bloke not catch a break?
Heart in his mouth, Logan pushed forward, as fast as he could carry himself, ducking down into another street. This time, he went to do a forward roll, but the moment he was in the air, the entire world around him went black.
…
It had been a low blow, but Hunapo was desperate.
They only had two containment pods left as it was, but if using one meant Logan could get captured instead of them then it was worth it. A knee-high metal boulder clattered into the street where Logan had been, and technically still was. They had no idea if a containment pod was comfortable or not, but judging by how large and muscular Logan was, it could be a tight squeeze regardless.
Serves him right, the damn snitch.
Hunapo landed right next to him, rolling onto their side painfully before almost falling up onto their feet. Their chest was burning as they ran, almost making them keel over in exhaustion, but they had to keep going. As Hunapo glanced back, they saw in horror that - for the first time in their life - the containment pod hadn't worked. It just spat a raging Logan back out onto the floor like he was giving it indigestion.
Logan was special then, one of the few to keep their wits about them in the pod. Good for him, in a way. So he could break out of a containment pod using only his anger and sheer force of will? Impressive. Unfortunately, he chose to do so right in front of the two policemen and in his anger and confusion didn't really do a lot to prevent his own arrest. They ducked into the nearest house, through a window left stupidly open, to watch in glee as he was tackled to the ground and tased.
Their heart was still working overtime, churning out almost unbearable waves of heat but at least they were safe for the moment, peeking out through the shadows of the dark room and the curtains keeping them hidden. Sweat poured from their face and they thought they would be sick from running. They allowed themselves a few moments to recover in shade and solitude as they watched the Death Adder's limp form get dragged away.
Or at least, that had been the plan.
Just as they were wondering just how to get the artifact - something they really should've accounted for before deciding to get Logan caught - the piercing scream of a small child almost caused them to short circuit in fear, and they jumped round to see a little boy, pointing up at them in fear and backing away. He gave another scream that tangled with the sob in his throat, a bloodcurdling noise as he dived to hide behind a curtain that split the one room in his house and Hunapo followed in some attempt to calm him down, tripping over pots and pans and raggedy toys in their haste.
The boy was curled up on a mattress bed, half-hidden under a blanket with his dark hair poking out in damp strands. And he was still screaming, in between his pleads to be left alone.
Hunapo would be all too happy to leave him alone - he was a child, after all, and they didn't like hurting children - if only he would stop bloody screaming. But he didn't, even as they began to plead and beg and even threaten, it had no effect on the child except to make him even more hysterical.
"Andrei?" Oh, so he had family then? Family who had eventually heard the child's shrill screams over the crowd and buzz outside. Hunapo ducked back into the main area of the room to find Radacanu standing amongst the clutter of his apparent home. They only had a moment to process the panic and dread on his face that quickly bubbled into rage before he'd lunged forward and knocked them clean out with a blow.
