The air was so thick with haze that if you had told someone that it was actually three suns, they wouldn't have believed you. But that's always how the afternoons were on T-3.5. A planet so inconsequential, they didn't even bother to give it a name.

But winding through the crowded market streets, it didn't seem inconsequential at all.

T-3.5 might be small and nearly completely useless but it had the biggest store of hieglum in the galaxy. Or at least, this galaxy. So it was the biggest trade centre for pilots, ship makers, big businesses and the resistance alike.

The resistance were only safe here because the Empire didn't care enough to invade T-3.5. At least, that's what the whispers in the back alleys said.

Checking his bag for all the spare parts, Virgil knew it was a lie. He'd made a pact with someone a long time ago... wherever he went, he'd be protected. And since all the planets he'd survived on hadn't been bombed, the pact seemed to hold true.

Neon lights and power packs shone from every rickety stall, lighting up the afternoon and highlighting the wears with a harsh light. Virgil smirked slightly and pulled his mask down. Will these store owners never learn?

"Excuse me?" He asked, making sure to keep his accent out of his voice. "How much are you selling these for?"

The store owner looked up from their holograph boredly and turned away from Virgil. "Go away. We don't want vagabonds here."

Virgil picked up a speed-shield carefully. Broken windows, a couple missing wires, nothing he couldn't fix.

"I can pay." He said, still studying the broken windows. In his head, he was marking out the exact measurements of laser glass he'd need.

"Really?" The store owner asked. "You've got 600 credits?"

Virgil nearly laughed out loud. 600 credits for a second-hand speed-shield? It was outrageous. You could get speed-shields in prime, working condition for less than half that. This wasn't a scrap store, it was a scam store.

"600 for a speed-shield?" He asked, turning the item around in his hand carefully. The store owner glared at him but made no attempt to snatch it back. Bad idea to make a scene when there were thieves around. Little did they know, they were talking to one such thief.

"That's far too much." Virgil continued casually. It's a conversation, just a conversation. Not bargaining. Yet.

"I'll give you 450 for it." He said. The store owner rubbed their stubble-covered chin and shook their head.

"Do I look like I was born yesterday?" They asked. "That's a speed-shield taken from the Millennium Falcon itself. 600 for it and no less."

"You filthy liar." Virgil thought. "Millennium Falcon my ass, that piece of junk was pulled apart half a decade ago." He should know, too.

"Fine. You drive a hard bargain," Virgil said, pretending to think, "but I'll give you 530 for it. Not a credit more."

Now, the store owner laughed out loud. "You must be short-circuiting." They said. Ah, the old insult of being a cyborg. Oh, Virgil was so wounded. "600 and no less."

Virgil shrugged. "I don't have that."

"Then get lost." The store owner hissed. Virgil shrugged again, apparently admitting defeat.

"Very well, very well." He put his hand down on the market stall. "You drive a hard bargain, my friend."

"I'm not your friend." The store owner snarled. They settled back in their chair and pulled up their holograph again. "Now get away before I call the authorities."

"What authorities?" Virgil bit this back as he left. Walk slowly, don't make it look like you're putting anything in your bag. Easy, once you know how.

Virgil was half-way down the street when someone yelled in surprise. "Hey! He stole my speed-shield."

"Assuming, are we?" Virgil asked. "Tut, tut. I'm glad I stole from you."

Virgil pulled his mask over his mouth and nose and broke into a run. The railroad was just a way away. If he could just get there in time-

"Hey! Stop!" A yell followed by footsteps.

"By what authority?" Virgil thought, smirking under his mask.

"Hey!" The shout was a lot closer now. Shit.

Virgil took a breath and jumped. It should've been an impossible jump. He should've landed on his face. Instead, he landed on the other side of the track. On two feet.

Virgil looked down the tracks. Perfect timing.

The store owner barrelled to a stop as a train glided over the tracks, screaming by and hiding Virgil.

By the time the train had gone by, Virgil had disappeared.

First chapter done! Thoughts?
Bye,
Blaize