Tory was… willowy, I’d say, although even that’s not quite right. She had the greenest eyes I’d ever seen, with either brownish red hair or reddish brown hair, I could never tell. After blacking out, I woke up. Well, no duh, but I woke up to the smell of bacons and eggs and a huge-ass hangover. I ran to the bathroom and retched. The nausea was overwhelming. Then, I heard some foot steps and someone lifting my head up. Well, there I was, slumped over a freaking toilet and I felt my head dragged back, almost to the point of pain. I found myself looking into the deep green vortexes, for lack of a better word, that seemed to observe me coldly, clinically. Tory [although I didn’t know her name then] smirked as she gave one last sweep of my face and released my hair, letting my head bang against the toilet seat. I heard her turn and go, with a… dark chocolate?… yeah, that’s right, dark chocolate scent trailing after her. I breathed it in and instantly felt better. I stumbled through. ”“If you cooperate you will live, and your crew may one day see their families again.”“It’s just me here, Montague.” Rhys lied, hoping that he would present no value as a prisoner. “I’ll drop my cargo and go, this doesn’t need to get messy.”“This is not a negotiation, Nichols. You have six hours. Resistance will be met with force. Attempt to dump and run, you will be destroyed. Erebus out.”The signal was terminated and Rhys raked his fingers through his hair.“I’m sorry Cait.”“You tried. They clearly want the ship as much as they want the cargo.” Cait glanced back in the general direction of the long container they were hauling. It was mostly comprised of large compressed tanks full of oxygen and nitrogen. On the return trip they’d be filled with helium and hydrogen harvested from Jupiter’s atmosphere. In amongst the tanks was a number of various items, mostly consumer goods that the Colonial stations did not currently have infrastructure to produce locally.“Or the crew.” Rhys.
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