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Zhan hated Besaji.

The bustle, the phony attitudes, the stink of fish... Objectively, he knew that there were good earthlings and bad throughout all of Tendaji and that he shouldn't generalize, blah, blah, blah, but he couldn't help the subtle sneer that lifted his upper lip when he first set foot on the dock. It didn't help that he had never mastered the art of quickly adjusting to still land beneath his feet, and he paused to keep himself from stumbling only six steps in. Disgraceful.

At least the sunset was pretty. Had he not had business, he would have stopped to admire it. Oku and Rumble were waiting around here somewhere, however, so the faster he could meet up with them, the better. Checking his hat to make sure it hid what it needed to, he held his large, cloth bag in front of himself like a shield and slouched forward into the crowd.

His eyes went wide, arms instinctively snapping up in his defense. Help her? Who was she? Was this all a ruse meant to catch him off guard so that someone might rob him? No. No, upon closer inspection she had been beaten, or at the very least restrained, and if she was serving as a distraction, she was a terrifyingly good actress. Either way, she was a person of interest. Was he interested? He wasn't sure. Zhan sighed, though it was barely longer than an average exhale.

"With what?" he whispered sharply. The boy stood taller, noticing her bound feet when he tried to step in front of her. He frowned, attempting to glare at anyone who had been chasing her without knowing exactly who they might be. His jewelry and flashier clothing were packed away in the bag that still hung over his shoulder, but he was used to carrying himself above his station, and his simpler garb seemed fancier when he filled it with conviction.

"What is going on here?" The words weren't loud, but they were crisp enough to cut through the hubbub in their immediate vicinity.

He didn't need to narrow his eyes or put his hands on his hips. Zhan's disdain was clear.

"We both know she's not your girl. Unless you mean slave? But surely you don't, since everyone in Matori is free these days." He stood as tall as he was able and crossed his arms to match the man in front of him. "So maybe you leave her alone and she situates herself."

He didn't want to press. It would be in poor taste to draw attention to the bruises or the bindings or to point out that her first words to him had been help me. It was important to display a level of decorum, to maintain one's manners even when the situation was distasteful. He didn't really want to get involved at all, if he was being honest. But he also couldn't let this go now that he was.

"I can't be sure, but something tells me that she doesn't want to work for you anymore. What if she left your employ and joined mine instead?" It wasn't often that he wished to be stronger, but it would have been nice if he could have given this guy a punch and been done with it.

He wasn't carrying any money, the forged cargo manifest the only thing of any value to anyone besides him. It wouldn't matter anyway. No matter what he offered, this man would say she was worth more. Forget being stronger. At that moment, Zhan wished for nothing more than the perfectly realistic and easily-obtainable power of telepathy.

Free your feet. We have to run.

If attempting to play up his haughtiness wasn't going to work, he would be a victim instead. As the man's hand moved past him, aiming for the girl, Zhan jolted to the side and bent low as if he had been punched. He held his breath, and with his bag mostly obscuring his face, the boy hit himself as hard as he could, hoping to cause a nosebleed at the very least.

"Y-you struck me! Stay away from us!" He didn't have to feign the distress in his voice. Even more than Besaji, he hated being in pain. "Come on," he whispered to the girl. Zhan had absolutely no idea how they were going to move quickly enough to get away, but he'd worry about that when it looked like they were about to be caught.

Zhan only looked back initially to make sure she was keeping up, but as the busy sounds of confusion and irritation swiftly faded behind them, he turned and gestured for her to follow him away from the docks. The alleys he chose got progressively thinner and darker as they went, and eventually he ducked through a door, holding it open for her... if she was still there.

The room inside was musty and small, a row of warped wooden boxes against one wall. Probably not strong enough to block the door, but sitting on them might be an option. Zhan lowered his bag to the ground and pulled off his hat, scrubbing a hand through his bright hair.

"In an ideal world, we would remove those chains." He knelt and opened his bag, pausing to swipe his coat sleeve across his face and grimacing when it came away faintly stained with blood. "But this situation is far from ideal." Zhan pulled out a billowy white shirt and a second, fancier coat, finally looking at her after a moment's hesitation. Yaeli. He had seen enough of her to know that already, but given this brief lull in the chaos, his mind filled with questions. If they got through this, maybe he would ask them.

"Either you wear these or swap with what I have on. I'll take whatever you don't." He supposed they could mix and match as well, but now wasn't the time for a damn fashion show. They simply had to be unrecognizable as the people who came in here. "If I thought I could make it to the ship carrying you, I would put you in the bag, but I'm afraid that would attract more attention than it would divert. You'll have to walk a little farther. Sorry." He held out the clothing for her to take, pulling out a pair of black pants that he kept to himself.

Zhan shucked off his vest and exchanged it for her dress, swiftly tucking the latter into his bag. He appreciated her no-nonsense efficiency and reacted in kind, only hesitating briefly before changing into the black pants and extravagant coat, fastening it up to the neck to hide his shabbier shirt. It was a good switch: she was wearing what amounted to a completely different outfit and he was dressed almost as well as he would have been had this job not gone sideways. He took out the manifest and tucked it under one arm.

"Just a few more blocks." At least he thought so. Escaping her captors had turned him around a little. "Then I think I should be able to get a wheelbarrow or something off of one of the people I'm here to meet." And maybe even some protection on the way to the ship. Once they had boarded The Sector of Secrets, no one would dare touch them.

He opened the door and peeked out, grateful that the way seemed to be clear. "Whenever you're ready. We should go farther down this alley and come out on the side opposite the one we came in. Slowly. Remember, we had nothing to do with any of this."