ACTION TIME

[aphelionix]

The two days had come and gone since Locke stayed over at Weiler's. He was tipsy when Weiler had called that night and made their two day check-in rule - not that he forgot, but he couldn't stop the nagging feeling that something was off when he went to bed that night.

On the morning of the third day, he remembered.

The rule was to get out. He tried calling Weiler once, in case he had forgotten his own rule, but Locke was sure by now that it wasn't like him. It was all the sign he needed when the call went straight to voice mail. He headed right out the door of his room, only gathering his pistol and communicator. Through the bustling of the soldiers' morning routines, he managed to keep himself fairly blended in. No one seemed to be looking on him any differently. Locke was on the last stretch of the emergency escape route of Gladsheim's base - for Circle members, that was - when someone called his name.

His real name.

Comments

[tactician]

Between stuffing the gun into his own back pocket and tugging up the back hem of his shirt enough to do so, Weiler paused and looked down at his rumpled self. He huffed in amusement, lifting his arms and turning in a full circle for Locke, entirely unashamed of his own state of affairs. "You think so? I thought I'd try something new. Good to know I'm as dashing as ever."

[aphelionix]

He chuckled. It was a little surprising to Locke, actually, that he had adjusted so easily to this.

"You'll probably fit right in," he said, reaching up to brush forward a couple strands of hair. It looked nice not all cemented back.

[tactician]

Making no move to stop him, Weiler grinned up at Locke from under the other man's arm as his hair was fidgeted with, reaching up only when Locke made to withdraw. He wrapped a hand around Locke's wrist and held it in place, yanking it back toward him a little - not enough to make the soldier stumble, but enough to make him lean forward a little. He took half a step forward as well. "I'm going to...

"Buy hair gel the first chance I get."

[aphelionix]

Locke sighed, even if he looked amused. He ruffled up Weiler's hair completely with his free hand.

"We'll shop after we get rid of this ship."

[tactician]

He attempted to duck from under the attack immediately, but it was more difficult than one might expect considering Weiler still hadn't let go of the other hand. In fact, he didn't release his hold on it until they were standing at the edge of the docking stairs, right before exiting the safety of the ship for real. Weiler patted his back pocket, where the gun was snugly tucked under the end of his T-shirt, and then gestured with flourish to the door. "After you, Captain."

[aphelionix]

He rolled his eyes, descending down the steps. Closing up the ship and locking it down, Locke gave a look around the port. Anywhere else, their military vessel would stand out, but since it got beat up in several escapes, it blended right in with the rest of the ships.

Thankfully, in Boriniat, everything was compact and easily traversed. A quick tram ride and they'd be at his "friend's" scrapyard and spaceship dealership.

"So what'd you mean before, Boriniat visiting you?" Locke asked Weiler, back leaned against the wall of the tram, looking out the window at the bright lights of one of Boriniat's many bright cities, Triniat. (The planet literally slept very little - the nights were long, with the globe's rotation dragged down by the mass of it's parent planet.)

[tactician]

In contrast, Weiler eased himself into the nearest seat, which wasn't hard to find, considering their car was empty, for the most part. It didn't seem to be a very popular hour for taking public transportation, which was just as well.

"I've a lot of friends, Herr Locke," he answered, leaning forward so that his back wouldn't touch anything. "And Wallabin takes a lot of visitors. Politics is a face-to-face game, at least in its initial stages. There's more men like me than you might think." Weiler slanted a look up at the other man. "Isn't that what this 'friend' of yours is too?"

[aphelionix]

"Someone like you?" Locke looked down at him.

[tactician]

"Not as handsome," Weiler beamed back.

[aphelionix]

A scoff. "Unfortunately not."

[tactician]

"But a little better than you."

[aphelionix]

Locke crossed his arms, grinning. "I don't believe anything beats a mustache."

[tactician]

There were certain benefits of living in an age where space travel was possible - one of which was that on-planet travel had also sped up significantly. The tram rolled to a slow stop with a pre-recorded 'ding,' and Weiler laboriously pushed himself to his feet.

"If you're into that sort of thing, I suppose."

[aphelionix]

"Are you?" he asked, stepping off the car onto the platform.

[tactician]

Weiler stepped past him with a laugh, purposefully nudging him with his shoulder as he did so. "Do you think I am?" he shot back, surveying their surroundings with a lazy glance.

This was the right place all right - there were heaps of mechanical parts in almost any direction you looked, separated into the lots that they belonged to, fenced off from each other at ground level, but the scenery all looked the same from the elevated platform they were standing on. Every lot had a rusty, painted sign or a flickering neon light indicating its name and ownership somewhere and whatever space wasn't occupied by parts was taken up by parked rows of vehicles of every nature - aerial, underwater, ground, and hover, to name a few. There was a strong irony smell in the air, dry and metallic enough for one to taste it if they opened their mouth and breathed in. Boriniat wasn't an industrial planet for nothing.

"Which one of these is your friend's?"

[aphelionix]

"The one with the stupid name," he said vaguely. They walked past several scrap shops, getting a few people - human and alien alike - trying to coax them in for business. Locke ignored them easily, looking up at the signs, until they finally reached the one.

'Ace Ships and Scraps', and in small text underneath, 'and stuff.'

"Not very bright, this guy." With a sigh, Locke headed up to the shop, ducking under the rusting warehouse door. The inside had a ship being dismantled for its parts, several dirtied men and women in overalls lasering it apart. A few turned their heads to give the pair odd looks, but just as casually went back to their work.

At the back of the garage there was a window with a busy looking man; incredibly tanned, gruff, overweight but unquestionably strong with small spectacles balanced on the tip of his nose. The only hair on his head was his large, black beard.

Locke gave a rough tap on the glass.

"Ace."

On the other side, the man looked up. Wide eyed, he stumbled to the back of the office, disappearing out a door and slammed it shut.

[tactician]

"Oh, he's happy to see you," Weiler murmured to Locke, very clearly amused.

[aphelionix]

He looked troubled.

"That's odd, considering..." Locke's voice trailed, and he was staring at something behind Weiler. He took a step back, but it was too late - two massive arms wrapped around Locke and swung him around in a circle. Ace was simply coming around to hug him.

"Locke, ol' pal!" Ace yelled, finally putting him down after a full 360. "Where ya been?! I thought ya forget all 'bout me! Who yer friend?"

"Long story," Locke coughed. "This is..."

Actually, he wasn't sure Weiler wanted him to use his real name.

i love ace

[tactician]

Weiler jolted back as soon as he saw that Locke was...incapacitated, though upon second glance, it didn't seem as life-threatening as he might have thought. He blinked at the...manly display of affection, not quite used to people so...open with their favors, and simply hung back (not a little warily) until Locke motioned to him.

"...Just call me Weiler," he said on cue, because if Locke was using his real name, then he trusted that to mean that he was safe enough to use his as well. He didn't offer a handshake immediately, opting for an amiable smile instead, because he was reasonably sure his hand would get crushed in that paw and he really did want to avoid the hospital a little bit longer.

hehehe good

[aphelionix]

"Nice to meet ya, Wah-ler," he said with such a big grin, that even under his giant beard it was hard to miss. Luckily, no move was made to shake his hand or hug him. Ace at least was smart enough to know his boundaries.(Weiler looked rather breakable.)

"Truth is, Ace, we're in a spot of trouble," he said. "I've got a hot ship I need rid of. I was hoping we could work a deal."

"Oh, a'course, Locke," he said, looking none too bothered. "What kinda boat we lookin' at?"

"GST-740."

Ace whistled. "What kinda trouble you in, 'zactly? Don't tell me yous in trouble wit the military now. Add that to the long list, huh?"

[tactician]

"Long list?" Weiler prompted innocently, doing what he was best at - wheedling for information. He blinked, doe-eyed, at Locke. "You never told me anything about that~."

[aphelionix]

Ace turned to Weiler, clearly happy to share the information.

"Oh yeah, this guy get around doin all kinds of trouble. Last I sawr him, he-"

"Ace," Locke cut in, "Urgent."

[tactician]

"Not that urgent," Weiler argued back.

[aphelionix]

"Pretty urgent," Locke said, shooting a look at Weiler.

[tactician]

Only after a moment, Weiler heaved a great sigh and settled back on his heels. "I suppose it'll have to wait until another time, then," he mourned to Ace, looking so honestly sorry. "Before our mutual acquaintance has a tantrum over his ship."