"Seriously, Dex!? I'm not smuggling anything."

"Did you help them escape too? Did you tip them off?" He wasn't talking me out of this. I knew what i saw. What I said hit a nerve  because it was as if I had just cornered a rabbit.

"Who?" Thomas's face was screwed up in confusion.

"Kross!" The name had Thomas standing still. What was he doing? He wasn't challenging the accusation. He was over there acting confused; He had to be acting, there was no way he knew nothing about this. He was confusing me in the process. 

What was happening? Was I being paranoid? He could have dropped something and I saw him at the wrong time. 

I looked at him about to apologise for what I said. I was going crazy. I had to be. I was on a path for a mental breakdown. The Force hadn't felt the same since I came back. Maybe it was me that was different and not it.

"Tom, I'm..."

Thomas suddenly glared behind me, fear contorting his features. I flinched, turning to stop the sneak attack from behind me. 

No one stood there. Dread had my blood run cold. 

And with that realisation I turned back around. Tom had been planning on me turning away and it had worked.

I had given him enough time too because as I spun back around, a force rammed into my chest, knocking the wind out of me.

I fell back hard onto the cement floor, my body going stiff as I tried to regain my bearings. The force winding me. As i tried to gulp down a lungful of air, a force pressed down on my throat, stopping me mid-breath. My crushed lungs seared my chest, crying out for the oxygen they craved. 

Adrenaline kicked in and my body moved again. This time it was to stop the pressure on my throat. 

Get off me!

Thomas pressed down harder on my windpipe noticing my mobility had returned.  Blotches danced in my vision. Tears fell down the side of my face. My head was getting light. I was going and I had to do something now, or die.

"Tom," I rasped. I feebly tried to pry his fingers from my neck.

"Nothing personal."

"guess not, pal," I desperately rammed my fist into each side of Thomas's face. He scowled as he fell back. Mustering as much strength as I could, I pushed him away.
I gasped for air. This was no time for a breather though. I scurried back, making sure I had as much as an advantage as possible.

"So you're crooked, huh?" My voice cracked as tried to speak; the cords grating from the trauma.
I felt utterly betrayed. I had so much trust in him. I had invested so much time into helping him, and now he was here trying to kill me. I willed myself onto my feet. I couldn't fight him lying down.

"You know what they say. It's always had the better pay." My breath shuddered out of me as I heard those words. 

Traitor.

"We're mates. I've known you since the academy. How could you do this?" The truth made my face burn. The betrayal boiled my blood, taunting my trigger finger. He was nothing more than a deceitful prick. 

Thomas merely laughed. "Easily," His face was now that of a stranger's. In that instance, I no longer knew the man before me. "No matter how this ends, you will end up worse off." I looked over towards the drugs and money. It was clear that they had been tampered with. Wait, he's going to pin this on me! It would end up my word against Thomas's. I had almost gone down for corruption once. The look on his face said it all. He was going to pin this on me. He was that bit older; the cleaner slate. He'd done it once. He was going to do it again.

Thomas started striding towards me. I poised myself for the attack. 

If Thomas kills me, he will put the blame on me and get away with it. I've got to bring him down and handcuff him. The drugs already on him are proof he's guilty.

Thomas threw the first punch. I ducked, dodging his left hook then defended myself as a knee shot up, aimed at my ribs. I shoved him away. I couldn't let him make contact.
 Thomas tried again, this time a right hook. I shielded my head with my arm. My jacket softened the blow but God, did it hurt. That hand tingled as the pain emerged.
 I ducked around him, trying to grab his arm and pull it behind his back. He moved out of my way and tried another punch, this one more wild and less controlled. I ducked again but this time moved towards him, shunting Tom in the chest. He careened backwards.

Thomas took one too many steps. He hit the guard railing, his centre of gravity throwing him off balance. He lost his footing fumbling backwards, his weight tipping him over the railing.

I barely had the time to realise as my long-time friend, Thomas Gallagher, plummeted over the side.