6 In the Depths
(Carrian's POV)
In a dark airlock passageway, which was surprisingly warm, two figures could be made out under a purple glow.
One was standing there plainly, watching the other. And the second being was very intently kicking at something on a "wall".
These two people were Michael and Carrian.
"You know, kicking harder might do the trick" Michael's high pitched voice suggested from behind.
"I'm still stuck on figuring out how you convinced me that, this is "fixing" the problem" Carrian heaved out, exhausted from repeatedly kicking at the panel heavily. The little thing was so incredibly damn sturdy. he began to believe that only planetary impact could bust the thing open...
It took a bit more of a beating from Carrian before it finally bent outwards at the corners. He moved to pull off the 'peeled at the edge' metal cover.
'What the hell am I doing?' Carrian released a mental sigh.
He had never envisioned himself doing such a thing. Or even being where he was right now for that matter.
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Carrian didn't group himself with the best of people. Ever since he was young, here on the crappy old planet Sava V, he had been stealing. Robbing people of their most precious belongings, and on occasion, when they wouldn't give them up, killing.
There was no government here, no law, nothing to stop anybody from doing anything they wanted.
strike that.
There was one law.
And it was power.
...
With enough power, here on this shitty planet, basically everything came to you. you could have anything you wanted; wealth...wealth...and...more wealth.
Power could get you wealth...and that wealth got you everything else.
Since trade was a necessity here, during major transactions, the influences of both sides dictated the outcome. That is to say, you had to have the means to protect you and your merchandise, in order to keep your customers, and even fellow "co-owners" from killing you and making whatever it was, theirs.
Carrian, as a young boy, was wholeheartedly driven by ambition. He had no parents, and not a credit to his name. Plus, he thought it wouldn't do to just sit and starve.
So he stole...and stole...and stole, from anybody and anything that held a credit of value.
-------
His first job was that of a thief needless to say, and he was pretty good at it too. But, out of the three job descriptions someone could possibly have, this one had almost cost him his life the most.
But through it though, he had gained some of his best friends. And most painful memories,
_
He'tan was one of them.
_
Younger Carrian would steal from many people, resort to harming many too, in his mind it was all for that greater wealth, he had so desperately wanted.
Wealth, that he decided one day, literally, under the boot of a man's foot, he would have.
.
That went on for the longest time until he ran into an old man on one of his getaways. He was quite the thin old man, with a geezer-looking beard, and layered in multiple damaged cloth-robes. Surprisingly though, he didn't get knocked over when the boy ran into him at full speed.
"WATCH WHERE THE FUCK YOU'RE GOIN' BOY!"
The old man yelled angrily, he had stopped from pushing a rag-filled cart through the extremely dusty roads of the bandit encampment.
Carrian looked up at him, furious at being stalled in his escape. The boy turned around in fear, to see if his pursuers had caught up to him.
The old man took notice, putting on a suspicious face.
"Stole something did ya?"
Carrian froze at this. And the answer very soon became obvious. Yells echoed off the walls of nearby shacks and crude shelters. Footsteps grew louder and louder, from all directions.
The boy looked around in panic. He almost ran over to an extremely distant pile of sand he had spotted to hide behind, but before he could, he heard the old man's voice.
"Hmmm...Boy, I've got a proposition for ya"
Carrian glared cautiously at the elderly man.
"Kiddo, name's He'tan, here's my offer; I let you hop in under these here rags..." He pointed to the ones piled messily in his cart. "...in exchange for half the profit of whatever it is you stole...Heck, I could probably even getcha a higher price for it, but that bit would be my gain" He'tan ended with a sly smile.
Carrian stared daggers at the old man, debating his options. He could make a run for it with a 50/50 chance of success, maybe even less than that. Or, Comply with this "He'tan".
.
His thoughts were cut off by the heavy trampling of feet growing even louder.
"Better make your choice now, boy, or I'ma get a move on. I ain't about to be suspected as your accomplice" He'tan scowled.
Carrian almost blew a fuse in his brain, making the split-second decision, but decided the one he believed to have the most chance of success at the time.
"Fine," he said quickly, jerking his head from He'tan to the cart.
The old man made an extremely wide grin, immediately shoving the boy towards the cart.
"Now that you've decided, can't have you gettin' caught now can we?" He'tan spoke excitedly over the sounds of more than 50 footsteps, as if joyous over his possible profit.
Carrian hopped in and buried himself into the rags, He'tan made sure no one could tell the difference in an instant. Now, loud, running steps could be heard plain as day.
The old geezer began to walk with his cart again, all the less suspectable than he was seconds ago.
*
The incident blew over after the climactic confrontation with the 50+ bandits who had caught up with He'tan, in search of the stolen goods.
He'tan pointed them in the wrong direction and exaggeratedly spoke of spotting the boy, with the most believable acting Carrian had ever "heard" in his life. He himself would have believed this old man if he had told Carrian he was on fire. And it worked. The half-hundred men left, paying no heed to the old man any longer. Carrian was incredibly surprised.
When the band of thieves had left, Carrian had once more popped out from the nest of rags, with an awed expression...
"How'd you do that?"
"Do what? Give 'em the wrong directions?" He'tan smirked.
"No. Convince them so easily....had me damn convinced too"
"That's just part of my trade, boy..." Letting off a wry smile, morphing it into a delighted one. "...now. about that deal..."
_
_
Carrian, unexpectedly, later ended up in a partnership with He'tan. Both of them plotting and scheming heists on other's goods. In the earlier days of their cooperation, He'tan and his cart were always, for the most part, a reliable getaway. This led up and into a friendship lasting many years.
The old man was the first to tell Carrian what a handsome face he had, and how it could lead him to profit when interacting with a female crowd.
Carrian wasn't fond of the idea, but money was money, and he would exploit it wherever he could.
And he was very well capable of doing so with his new second profession.
Acting.
Taught by the old geezer himself.
This led to Carrian being an almost unstoppable force in the hearts of Sava V's surprisingly large female population. And not all of them human. It caused him a good deal of trouble with some lady warlords too.
*
All good things come to an end, however. One suspicious operation in the night made for one of Carrian's most unforgettable getaways.
*
As it turns out, elderly men aren't impervious to an assassin's bullet to the back of the head...
And blood didn't pool the same way he remembered it did, at midnight.
Carrian ran, not knowing what to think or believe.
He ran, questioning why, and how he didn't die that night.
He just ran.
-
It all caught up to him later.
-
.
This wasn't his most painful memory. Those would be his memories of Sera Rieve: Events too heart-rending for him to look back upon. He forced his third profession upon himself because of those events, not out of any good sentiment, but as a punishment and for self-blame.
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Carrian's heart seemed to ache in memory while ripping the metal plate off of the panel.
His hands shook.
Michael, standing behind him, noticed.
.
Carrian, not wanting to appear questionable in front of the "kid", turned back and put on a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head.
"Sorry ..haha..." he laughed weakly. "I just realized...I'm a bit scared of the dark."
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(Michael's POV)
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...
'Is this guy bullshitting me?' Michael squinted.
Carrian, who sensed Michael's incredulity, returned his attention to the metal plate, and with a final pull, removed it completely. His hands still trembling minutely.
Michael forgot about Carrian's previous comment and moved forth to inspect the panel's "innards".
Outside of his view, a certain young man rubbed his thumb slowly into the center his right palm. An air of inner turmoil about him.
The former college student once again used «Repair» on the panel, after making some minor damages to the wires and their connections that he knew were fixable.
It was highly questionable whether or not this door would open like the airlock outside, he didn't even know what could possibly be on the other side.
It could be a few hundred meters into the wreck until they found how far into the crash-landed cruiser bandits had managed to build.
Michael sighed in exhaustion at the thought. He looked at Carrian, who looked back with a bright smile, and sighed again.
'Fuck me....'
*
Thankfully, the panel worked the same as the one outdoors when Michael tampered with it, with the exception of having to dial the complete number pad due to it being whole this time.
A green light flickered on the panel. The door made a sound like some old metal slab would when being ground against the hard floor. Nevertheless, it managed to open.
*
Michael received no notification of any kind this time around though. He guessed it was because he and Carrian had purposefully damaged the device repaired beforehand.
Inside...It was obviously pitch black. Only, the darkness did no limit itself to
directly in front of them. It helped to identify the lack of a floor structure in front of them when shined over with the purple light.
Michael guessed that this passageway (the one they were in) led right into a perpendicular hallway; the one they saw right before them under the dull light. They were standing on a wall after all.
Carrian walked over, holding the light sphere. The area immediately became better illuminated.
They both looked down.
...
An endless abyss.
...
Michael didn't appear fazed, because he wasn't. Carrian did, however.
Michael's father, the complete opposite of the indoors entertainment fanatic, was an outdoorsman. He was a mountain climbing and hiking enthusiast, bringing Michael on some of his ventures, in the gamers younger years. So heights did not bother him all too much.
"You can climb right?"
"W-why do you ask?" Carrian gulped.
'Is he not the one holding the goddamn light?'
"Up. Or down?" Michael said, gesturing with his left hand in both directions.
...
"You actually want to go down there? Aren't we supposed to be headed in that general direction.." Carrian argued, pointing directly forwards. "I don't see how you'll get there by going...well...down there."
Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. Totally not an image that suited his current appearance.
"Enlighten me then, Carrian, how would you go about this?"
The handsome guy had a reluctant look on his face, with his shoulders raised in somewhat of a shrug.
Michael guessed he was at a blank. People around here probably didn't usually go around busting open airlocks and searching dark passageways. This was all just speculation though. Michael really had no idea of this planet's inhabitants other than useless bandits and bird people.
From what he'd seen so far, he wasn't sure he would want to meet any more people. He would take paths to avoid as many as he could.
"*sigh*...Didn't you say you were searching for wealth and adventure? I'm sure there'll be some interesting things down there."
"Oh...I did say that, didn't I... I guess I can climb a little then" Carrian's eyes gleamed, seemingly coming to some sort of realization.
'Why the hell am I encouraging him?'
Michael banged his head against the doorframe.
The dirty blonde-haired man with the purple light, wandered near the edge once more, now with a mysterious smile.
"I see...no time to waste then, Mitch, my dear companion, wealth awaits us below! "
Carrian began the process of lowering himself and looking for footholds to climb down, eventually beginning to do so.
Michael, who had dully watched Carrian in his actions, began to do the same.
A realization dawned upon him, forcing him to stop.
-
He was lowering himself into the depths of a massive, bandit-infested shipwreck on some random ass planet, in the middle of god knows where reincarnated in the body of a child-scavenger-person in bloody rags. And, with a perverted useless bandit accomplice.
...
He looked down at Carrian, still holding the light, not far away at all. Then back up into the abyssal black.
Michael recalled his mother's last words. He smiled, almost breaking into light-hearted laughter when also recalling his situation.
"Ma', I think I'm still doing alright " he whispered, still humored, continuing his descent.
