space balls but with less legal balls

[scupper]

[It's not that he's exactly reckless or particularly careless. The fact of the matter is Duo's luck really fucking sucks. Which is why he was marooned on a shuttle with zero thruster power, his Gundam long gone, the colonies nowhere in sight and communications silent as the grave (how very ironic for the god of death himself, lifeless, endless space stretched out in front of him with a carpet full of stars).

That is until he struck a spot of luck- that ended up not being very lucky at all. A ship, a battle ship to be exact, rescued him and promptly seized him for questioning and the like.

It goes without saying that questioning is the universal language for "beat the shit out of Duo until he sings or makes a quip and passes out" out here in space. Which is where we find our braided hero in a startlingly familiar setting:

A darkened room, handcuffed to a chair with bruises zinging and stinging up and down his ribs and across his face. He wrenches his wrists against the cuffs to no avail; they merely rattle against the chair and give little. Well, he's had worse.]

Maaaan, this sucks. Hospitality sure ain't what it used to be in the colonies. Guess I can't blame 'em but a little grub would be nice.