draft, to post in June

Date: 2025-05-17 04:34 pm (UTC)
fulcrum3: (0)
From: [personal profile] fulcrum3
The open-air market reminded him a little of Ferrix. The aisle between parallel booths was just slightly too narrow for all the foot traffic, with people stopped to look at tables. It was wonderful.

Cassian hadn't found what he was looking for in shops, but found it almost immediately at a table. It was ridiculously overpriced, but the vendor obviously wasn't prepared for someone like Cassian, who could take apart a piece of machinery with a look, and he was able to talk it down. He proceeded to browse tables for spare parts to add to the device, to make alterations. In his rucksack, he also stuffed a new sheet and blanket large enough ("Queen size", he learned) to cover both himself and Jyn. (Not that he couldn't imagine them pressed together under an army blanket or a shared jacket…)

There was one table where Cassian stopped, involuntarily, dead. It was spread out with mostly sporting equipment, but had several of what looked like blasters. Looking more closely, he saw, aside from the guns themselves, an array of what had to be analog, projectile ammunition. Cassian had never fired a projectile weapon. He could have bought one of these and learned how. For the barest moment, he thought it might be a good idea.

It isn't 'what have I done', but 'how did you become what I had to do next'

He was overwhelmed with revulsion. He turned away from the table and put distance from it fast as he could without running. If he could possibly avoid it, he was never going to pick up a weapon again.
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