Meanwhile...
Echo enters the field with a slim prisoner alongside him. He heads to the Northwest (according to maps of the prison, hell if anyone knows where the actually Northwest of a bloody space prison is, especially not these bludgeons.) corner of the field and leans against the wall as his escort starts speaking about things not heard to others as no one is near.
*Indistinct mumbling which is actually average talking can be heard*
"FUCK!" Echo yelled.
Echo sits there for a moment, as if thinking about what he just heard, he then waves away the other and pulls out his Ignitor and a Ferax Stick which he proceeds to ignite and inhale, the things had such a stronger zing than any Cuban cigar had to offer.
While smoking away his thoughts, he glances at the fresh young one who was just getting off his feet.
"Another bastard to scrub my shoes," he thought. Then he noticed something.
"That guy's hair, he was ex-enforcement, which means...he knows things..." he thought. "Unless he's just a wannabe, course, but in any case, he can probably do some grunt work, he obviously has some experience with his fists."
Echo stood straight and started walking towards a prisoner sitting on a bench near the door to the cell blocks. He murmurs something in his ear, and the prisoner nods. Echo tosses the guy a Ferax Stick and walks into the cell block area.
Echo approaches the second cell block on the third level and lights his Ignitor, as the lights were out in the blocks at the time. He enters and starts walking down the block, to a cell near the back end. Then he waits. About two minutes later, the block door opens and a flashlight shines bright down the hall, the door shuts behind and the flashlight is shut off. Echo kills the Ignitor's flame and starts ambling to the front of the block.
"I need more Sticks, Heat. I running out of supply, you even know economics?" Echo started.
"Don't bother telling me," Heat replied, "You want a set or two? Or how about a whole pack?" he says as he can be heard shuffling in his pockets. The man turns back on his flashlight and shines it directly on a fresh unopened case of 10 Ferax Sticks. His guard uniform gleams even with all the dust and soot on it.
"I'm amazed you didn't take it upon yourself to confiscate the evidence," Echo chuckled, "You're outdoing yourself, I hope you can top this some time, anyways, send this to Brahmin, and you'll get a good wad out of my account sent straight to you." Echo tells Heat a series of numbers which he records on his data-pad.
"Business is booming, as usual. I've got canteen shift, so Ima get my rifle first," Heat grinned.
"Just know," Echo started, "never shoot the man that pays ya." He gives a confident nod to Heat and walks out, putting the case of Ferax Sticks into the toilet filter case as he heads out back towards the field, where he sits in the Mid-Western section of it, and waits for the horns to blare and the guards to escort the wave of red into the canteen.
"Never sit in the front of the canteen near the kitchen, most of the armed guards are posted there," he reminded himself. "Never sit near the back either, fights happen there, and bullets come right after the fists, and if the bullets don't get you, Solitary is your winning prize."
Echo smiled...
"Welcome to hell,
weathers great here,
so pull up a chair,
grab a cold beer."
OOC: To the rhythm of Moves Like Jagger btw.
