The goon growls, but what resistance he puts up ends swiftly at the sound of the gun clicking loudly in the echoing corridor.
"Three," he says, finally, reluctant. His eyes cut to the girl, then stare sullenly at the wall he's pressed into. "Pierre and two hired guns. But you're never going to get him -- they say Pierre's a Gung-Ho Gun. He's the best in the business."
The best, huh?
Wolfwood's face remains impassive, but he stiffens, slightly, before turning to the girl again.
"Your father, what kind of trade is he in? Weapons? Slaves?"
She shakes her head, white and shaking. "No...he...no. He's a -- a plant technician. They're repair parts, brand new. He says he thinks he figure out a way to fix the lost technology..."
no subject
"Three," he says, finally, reluctant. His eyes cut to the girl, then stare sullenly at the wall he's pressed into. "Pierre and two hired guns. But you're never going to get him -- they say Pierre's a Gung-Ho Gun. He's the best in the business."
The best, huh?
Wolfwood's face remains impassive, but he stiffens, slightly, before turning to the girl again.
"Your father, what kind of trade is he in? Weapons? Slaves?"
She shakes her head, white and shaking. "No...he...no. He's a -- a plant technician. They're repair parts, brand new. He says he thinks he figure out a way to fix the lost technology..."