[ He didn’t make it very far – he’s leaning forward, hands splayed against the table, staring at his blasters. And even if he had, the Milano is a small ship. There aren’t many places to hide.
(Well, there are a few. For emergencies, mostly, like if the ship gets boarded or if the authorities happen across them and they need to hide cargo in a hurry, and he thinks he may still be the only one on the ship who knows about them. He’s wondering if an unplanned homecoming counts as an emergency.)
Peter’s fight or flight instinct has always skewed more to one side than the other; it’s why he did so well as a Ravager – not that they were cowards, as such, but a healthy sense of self-preservation meant that they could live to steal another day. And right now? Every nerve in his body is screaming at him to run.
It’s probably why he jumps about a mile out of his skin when he hears her, whipping around to face her. ]
no subject
(Well, there are a few. For emergencies, mostly, like if the ship gets boarded or if the authorities happen across them and they need to hide cargo in a hurry, and he thinks he may still be the only one on the ship who knows about them. He’s wondering if an unplanned homecoming counts as an emergency.)
Peter’s fight or flight instinct has always skewed more to one side than the other; it’s why he did so well as a Ravager – not that they were cowards, as such, but a healthy sense of self-preservation meant that they could live to steal another day. And right now? Every nerve in his body is screaming at him to run.
It’s probably why he jumps about a mile out of his skin when he hears her, whipping around to face her. ]
-- Shit. Maya. Hi.