The Blood Money - Freeport One Edition -

[Squad]

Johnson stumbled into the Blood Money with his right arm hanging limp at his side and his left falling around his abdomen. In the interest of looking somewhat presentable, he changed his bandages in the cockpit before docking, but the lack of space left his work with something to be desired.

The dim lights highlighted wisps of smoke coming from a few tables towardthe back of the bar, but their occupants were cloaked in shadow. Johnson could see their eyes, though. They paid him little attention.

Seems this place doesn't mind an injured customer or two – or at least it's not a strange sight.

He didn't know what to make of it, but Mereen left him little else to go on. The Edge Worlds were too dangerous for him, and only after a slight skirmish or two was he able to reach Freeport 1 in one piece.

He hobbled up to the bar, trying to maintain his weight as to take the stress off his core muscles. Considering their purpose, having them out of action for a time make his gait awkward to say the least.

Damned hole.

The wound was healing but superficially. It would take weeks for the deep tissue to fully repair itself.

The barkeep eyed him as he fumbled with a barstool.

"Double of rum, if you have it."

A short nod and a fill later, Johnson took the tumbler and slowly poured some its contents on the bandages. The alcohol stung, but he was out of cleansing agents Mereen had packed for him.

After wincing to his heart's content, Johnson pulled the gambling chip from an inner pocket in his tunic and placed it gently on the bar.

"I'm not sure what I'm doing here, who I'm looking for, or what this means." He tapped the chip with his index finger and brought his tumbler to his lips.

"A girl named Mereen. Know her?"

The keep gave Johnson nothing more than a glance over his back as he dried more tumblers several feet down the bar.

"Nope."

Johnson sighed and slid the chip down to the keep. He looked up from his tumblers a moment and then returned to his towel.

"What's your name, boy?"

"William."

You idiot. It's best if you died back in the Edge Worlds.

"And what do you do, William?"

"I find people who don't necessarily want to be found."

The keep held a tumbler up to one of the lights to check for spots before buffing the edge with his towel.

"And when you find these people, do you tell them 'William has come to get you?'"

"No. Then, I'm Syren."

The keep looked at Johnson, picked up the gambling chip, and put it in his pocket.

"Never forget your name, boy. It means a great deal around these parts, and once you choose it, it becomes you."

He turned and walked toward a door next to the liquor shelves, leaving Johnson to his shrinking glass of rum.

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