February 08, 2009

267. Anchorhead - Trychon

Tyrrazapon looked at the others, and took a moment to finish collecting himself.

"It's pretty simple, really. The smugglers I was with was taking a shipment of supplies to them. We were just the courier. I don't even really know what was in the crates we dropped off. Unfortunately, a windstorm picked up right after we landed and we got stranded for a week. That can happen there. Anyway... they let us stay in their base as long as we needed, and then we moved on our way. Perfect hiding spot though. Nobody goes to Hoth if they don't have to."

"I'm really not looking forward to this Hoth place." Trychon held his ale close as though it would help keep him warm when they got there.

Anya put down her glass. "I call Bantha Poodoo. You're hiding something. Not very well, I might add."

Raezyr put his down as well. "No... she's right. If it were so simple, you would have been more upfront sooner. We need to know what sort of place we're walking into... you can't keep any of this from us."

"It's nothing major, really." Tyrrazapon started to hide behind his drink.

"Cough it up, we need to know..." Anya said.

"Well, I did have one run in with the first mate right before we left, is all." He seemed to be getting more uncomfortable.

Trychon started to take a drink. "Run in?"

"Romantically." Tyrrazapon muttered quietly.

Trychon spit his drink across the table. "You what?" Anya elbowed him in the side. "I just didn't realize you..." He started to go on, before Raezyr interrupted. "Not that there's anything wrong with that..." Trychon nodded. "Right... not that there's anything wrong with that..."

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