Stomp

[Ecks]

Ecks walked off of his ship, Razor's Edge, into the bustling cosmopolitan atmosphere of Jovan Station. He turned his head, looking to his right, and then moved left, in the direction of the promenade and most of the day to day activity of the station. The big Falleen lifted one hand to the eyepatch screwed into his skull where his right eye had been, and scratched at his skin near the edge.

The eyepatch wasn't purely decorative. There was hardware built into it, wired into the optic nerve, which overlaid a HUD on what Ecks saw with his good eye. It helped make up for the depth perception problem of having only one eye, and also coordinated with the computer in his left gauntlet to give him up to date information on the people around him.

There were a lot of Cizerack around - too many, in Ecks' opinion. He paused by something that proclaimed itself a 'tea house' but it smelled nothing like tea. Ecks liked tea better than caf. As he lingered in the doorway, his ears picking up the sounds of humanoids enjoying the pleasures of the body, he considered that he liked what this place was selling as well. The lithe male who was standing at the front desk looked up at the ugly Faleen bounty hunter, a look of trepidation on his face.

Ecks gave him a grim smile, and moved on. He had better things to do.

[Domovoi]

The walkways were in constant motion, beings of all species spilling in and out of cafes, bars, shops and all manner of distractions. In among the hubbub, the sound trailing Ecks' heels would have been just about impossible to pick out. It was a voice, not quite loud enough at first to reach the huge Fallen. The voice repeated: “Hey!”

Behind Ecks, a boy – tilting his head most of the way back to look up at the hunter – stood beside what appeared to be a kitten with a horn in the middle of its head.

[Ecks]

Ecks regarded the human child and it's pet, and then looked to see if there were any likely adults to whom it might belong. Of course there were none. "Go home," he rumbled, and then turned to continue on his way.

[Domovoi]

The kitten padded away, tail-swishing back and forth and eyes narrowed as it watched the twitching wings of a Toydarian bobbing by.

"Hey!" the boy called out again, throwing a frown in the cat's direction as he jogged in Ecks' wake. "Where'd you get that eye-patch?"

[Ecks]

"I made it," he said, "Out of little boys who were too curious and asked too many questions." Ecks used his good eye to scan storefronts, and walked into one that proclaimed itself to be T's Misc. 'bits and bobs' was written on a piece of posterboard and taped into the window.

The tiny shop was crammed full of figurines and crystals, dusty glass shelving holding a metric ton of crap. Ecks bypassed all the home remedies and cultural woowoo like ground up wampa claws for your cold and shavings from the tooth of a krayt dragon for your crotch rot. He walked heavily to the front counter, and picked up a packet of whatever was hanging on the rack, placing it on the synthwood.

[Domovoi]

"But how did you-"

Following inside, the boy's senses were assaulted by the heady smell of incense smoking, somewhere inside the store. The kitten paused at the door, trying to swat at bundle of feathers hanging from a string. There was a head mounted on the wall behind the counter, with a label that read Genuwine Arkanian Dragon Head, For Sale. The boy squinted at it and decided it looked like a monkey-lizard with dubious kitchen utensil-esque protrusions sticking out its head.

He stepped up to the counter, looking up at Ecks. "What are you going to make with that?"

[Ecks]

He looked down at what he'd grabbed - Gamorrean Grease, the little plastic packet proclaimed. Ecks turned his head to look at the boy, and rumbled, "A trap."

"Ah, yess, fine, I am here," came a voice from the back room, behind an elaborately beaded curtain that was missing a few strands. "Jusst a minutes - no. No, no, you cannot." The little Mimbanite who had emerged glared at the Falleen bounty hunter, snatching at the packet. Ecks pulled it back just in time, holding it between two fingers.

"I would like to buy this," he said, staring into the other alien's big black eyes.

"No, no. No! Not for sale." The Mimbanite crossed his green furred arms, his mohawk of hair flopping as he shook his head emphatically. "Go! I have a customer," he added, looking pointedly at the small boy.

Ecks stepped in between the boy and the proprietor, putting the goods on the counter. "Standard fee, Tich, plus a little extra."

Tich narrowed his eyes. "A lot extra."

"Fine," growled Ecks, and the shorter alien quailed a little, before summoning his courage again.

"The boy?" Tich asked.

"He's leaving," said Ecks, turning and glaring at the kid.