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On Jun 9, 2013, at 11:23 PM, Anvil <[email protected]> wrote: > > > > > > > {Snip} > > As Ryan watched he most definitely got the feeling that Tyrus was about to > get into trouble... > > > Ryan looked at the two men with the grocer and let his cortical chip scan > them to run their faces through Starfleet's facial recognition database. > > Facial recognition was not helpful. They were not in the database. One, the > bigger of the two, was Ramesar. The smaller was Bajoran. The Ramesar was > tall, in incredible shape. He had a put together, squared away look that led > Ryan to believe he was elite military. Or at least was up until recently. He > did not have the smooth edges of an operator or a merc that was in the > business for very long. The Bajoran... was just a local thug for hire. > > He moved slowly toward Mr. Naraal, keeping his eye on the grocer and the two > men with him, while trying to not look like he was keeping his eye on them. > "Looks like your grocer friend isn't worried about paying his bills," Ryan > said lightly, with an amused smile. "Patrick Ryan," he said, offering his > hand to Naraal. "I was just out on my morning run and noticed you running, > too. Are you done, or were you planning on running more? If you are, would > you mind if I tagged along? I don't know this area well and I'd hate to get > lost." > > > > "I would love to. Running with company is always better than running alone. > However, my friend Sal, sells the best fruit and would be great to end our > run with. It won't take but a minute to get the fruit, after these fellas bug > off.", Tyrus answered taking the hand that was offered. The hand shake was > firm, and lingered just barely a moment longer than was necessary. Tyrus was > unsure how to read Ryan's arrival. > > > > Naraal was focused on Ryan, and did not see the Ramesar tense up or the > Bajoran put his right hand into his vest. > > Ryan again moved to keep himself between Naraal and the two men. "Wouldn't it > be better to come back here later, then?" he asked, "rather than carry the > fruit with us? We'll come back by this way." > > > > "It probably would, but I want to get first pick." > > Another figure came around the corner about a block away. She was walking at > a slow, yet purposeful pace. Her path was from the east, so the morning sun > made it difficult if not impossible to tell anything about her > > > > Three potential threats and the man he was supposed to be protecting seemed > pretty damned clueless. These were marine odds here. "Well, then," Ryan said, > "maybe we should see why these guys are giving your friend the fruit seller > such a hard time." He turned to face the Ramesar and the Bajoran. "Do we have > a problem here, gentlemen?" he asked simply. His hand was nowhere near his > weapon. But if there was to be a fight, he was more than ready. > > > Ryan's intervention earned him bitter looks and a gruff retort. > > > > > "Mind your own business, human.", said what appeared to be the leader. > > "We are looking fo..." > > The leader stopped his companion from finishing his statement with a pointed > jab of his elbow. > > They traded barbed expressions for an instant, then the junior seemed to > deflate. > > "Our business is our own. ", the leader answered remaining calm, but > definitely scoping out the newcomers for a fight. > > "And now it involves me.", Tyrus answered growing testy. > > Ryan sighed. It would be so much easier to protect the guy if he weren't such > a hothead. "Hell," he said. "it's been a long time since I've been in a > scrap. I'll back you up," he said, thinking and acting on the fly. This would > not have been the way he would have preferred to see this go. > > Just as the thugs were about to go... > > "Is there a problem here?", called the approaching figure. Now in better > light. She wore the uniform of a law enforcement officer.... A Cop. > > The leader put a hand on his partner to hold him back from the fight he was > spoiling for. "No problem here. We will come back later once the market > opens." > > "Good then, move along. Tyrus is that you? ... Thought so. Leave the eager > shoppers alone, and finish your run.", called the lady cop. Hand brushing > gently against her side arm. Just in case... > > "Of course, officer. Your're late though...", Tyrus answered. > > "I'm sure you will get over it by the time you finish your run.", she > answered. > > The Ramesar thugs left, walking slowly. Eyeing Tyrus. Ryan got the impression > that they were really looking to Tyrus, and the grocer was a means to get to > Tyrus. > > Ryan realized he would not be able to be far away. He hoped one of the > queries he'd sent for an apartment would come through. > > With the situation over, Tyrus turned to Ryan... > > "So, my new buddy... want to finish our run?" > > "I would love to. How far were you planning to go?" Ryan asked him. > > "How about through the arts district? " > > "I'm up for anything short of 20 kilometers," Ryan told him. > > "It's about 2km. There is a locals joint that serves the best tespa egg and > earth bacon. " > > -- > ***** > Randy, AKA > > > Admiral Matthew Brennan > Ryan Thompson > Khre'Riov Ael t'Khllrenz, Ambassador, RSE > Spacedock > > > >
