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His work as the Black Bandit hadn’t been steady by any means—an unreliable source of income that rarely paid the bills. He hadn’t had much luck with any other type of work though. Thieving was apparently just what he did best.
A few questions to FPS revealed the Order would have more consistent work lined up for him, and better pay. From the sounds of it, the nature of the job wasn’t much different from what he was already doing either.
“I’ll do it.” He said. And that was that.
They laid back against the electric tile and waited to reach the ground.
The stars had been out for hours by the time it finally did. They fumbled off it, onto the jungle floor, and took a moment to stretch out their aching bodies.
Tora took the sword, notched it into his belt. FPS didn’t complain, preferring instead to rattle off plans about contacting HQ and getting the lab properly looked at now that its main threat was dealt with.
The plan they agreed upon was to head back to the cave they stayed in earlier, rest up, and make their trip back to civilization the next day. The two moved to do just that, but then stopped when they heard something.
“…apples” they heard an electronic voice blurt nearby.
Tora turned back, started searching the bushes and trees.
“…cup …sugar.”
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