“Well hot damn… Should I ask what the story is to all this?” Thorn muses aloud as he steps aboard the Kwip-Chap.
Simone stands herself up from a crate, grunting a bit from the effort.
“Not much to tell. Shot our engines out, boarded, and didn’t live to tell the tale.” she replies as she moves up to give him a firm hug.
“Heh! I’ll bet. Sorry it took us time to head on over here. Happen to catch us in the middle of a job. The kind that we couldn't easily step away from.” the man says as he pats Simone’s back with both hands.
“I get it, cowboy. Thankfully no one else has come by. Thanks for the tow.” the redhead says before giving the ‘ol man a last squeeze before pulling away to see the three other numbskulls make their way in carrying boxes, “What have we got here?”
“Tools.” Devin notifies plainly before setting his box down.
“For? What, don’t try to tell me you’re gonna try to fix our ship up yourselves.” Simone jests.
“Course not. But if there’s minor patches needed, then might as well prepare for it.” Devin shrugged before giving Simone a nod of greeting.
“Hey! You cut your hair!” Brandy calls out as she lowers her box down by Devin’s.
The redhead scratched at the back of her head.
“Not my choice but yep!” she responds with a chuckle.
“Come here big girl!” Brandy added as she opened her arms and gave the muscular woman a side-to-side rocking embrace.
Before Simone can say anything more, another Terran practically crashes into her side to join in.
“There’s our champion! Seducer of alien princesses!” Troy cheers.
The redhead winces and staggers, not quite at her physical norm yet.
“Careful there buckaroo… good to see ya too.” She smirked before shaking herself free for the two former crewmates, “You’re all welcome aboard, if you want something a bit better than nutrition rations we got grub in the kitchens but just the premade stuff cuz our chef is currently out of commission. I’ll just ask y’all to mind yourselves, alright? We have a few more security staff, so I don’t mind y'all roamin’ a bit.”
“You heard ‘er. Keep the rambunctious toned down.” Thorn says as he looks directly at Troy.
The younger man rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, knowing that message was for him alone.
“Yeah, yeah…” he grumbles before immediately perking back up, “So where’s the lucky royalty now? Haven’t crushed her yet have ya?”
“Troy!” Brandy barks scoldingly.
“What? It’s a fair question! Jeez...” the young man defends.
“For crying out loud- No, it’s not!” Brandy argues while pressing a finger into Troy’s chest.
“Oh, is everything alright?” a Cali’s voice asks from above.
The five Terrans within the cargo bay look up to see the Princess beginning to descend the steps towards them.
“Well howdy!” Thorn replied while shaking his head at his subordinates.
“Oh, uhm…‘How do I’ what?” Chak inquires, “Do you need assistance?”
It takes a moment for the Cali’s response to catch up within the older man’s head, when it does he drops his gaze to the and chuckles once more.
“Ain’t nothin. Glad to be of service. We’ve already latched our ship on and Devin here is gonna make double sure your ship don’t rattle apart while in FTL.” Thorn carried on.
“That is very much appreciated!” Chak chirps as she makes it to the bottom of the steps.
“Well now… you seem to be a bit more bold since our first meet’n. Ya ain’t tremblin’ in your boots- er should I say hooves.” Thorn moments as he comes up to the Cali, his gleaming cyan eye looking over the bug-goat curiously.
“Oh, well the circumstances of our initial meeting did have me in a bit of a state. And you left so quickly I really didn’t get the proper chance to introduce myself! Greetings, I am Chakalata’motaas, Princess of the Cali people.” she responds with a polite bow, which exposes a smaller creature nestled in her lowered hood.
“Pleasure. I’m Thorn and these are my band of idiots. Over there is Brandy, she’s the closest thing we got to a medical practitioner. Then there’s Troy, more thrill than brain in that one, but he knows how to to lay a Thakmaw back on its ass with his bare hands so we tolerate ‘im. And Devin, man has a thing for tech. Brightest of us all, just forgive him if he comes across as a ‘lil cold. Means well, just the way he is.” the older Terran points out.
“I welcome you all. I very much can’t wait to get to know each and every one of you better!” Chak replies with a bounce before looking to Simone, “Have you had the chance to share the news?”
“News?” Simone utters, unsure of what Chak means, “I mean… a whole hell of a lot has happened since the last time… and they just got here…”
Chak’s eyes flash as she bounces again.
“Oh, then I will do the honors! Simone and I are betrothed!” she declares excitedly.
Processing that, all eyes zip to the redhead. Who was staring out into space in horror, face redder than sin.
“Right… that…” she whispers.
“Excuse me, what!? No way! Simone? Hitched!?” Troy speaks out in disbelief.
“For once I agree with the numbskull… I just don’t believe it!” Brandy says with wide surprised eyes.
“Damn…” Deven inputs with a lifted eye tuft.
Thorn crosses his arms, giving Simmone a knowing glance.
“Couldn’t resist say’n yes eh?” he muses.
“Actually, she asked me!” Chak corrects.
“What!?” Troy and Brandy call out almost simultaneously.
Looking away to avoid all the intense stares Simone scratched the back of her head nervously and scuffed the heel of her boot on the floor.
“Yeah…” she mumbles in confirmation.
An awkward silence passes before Chak attempts to remedy the situation she caused.
“A-and this is our adopted child! Their name is Essjay!” she announces while scooping the Watath out from her hood and into her cradling arms. Essjay looks to all the new faces with caution, wavering hisses in uncertainty.
However, all this does is bring an even longer intense silence.
“I’M AN UNCLE!?” Troy bellows in shock and excitement before Brandy thwaps the back of his head.
-
“-and… that’s pretty much all that has happened up to this point.” Simone explains to Thorn while they sit alone together in the mess hall.
Throughout the harrowing tales of worm-space zombies, Terran cultists, potential Cali plans of war and a mysterious genetic-manipulating race of bat-people hellbent on invading the galaxy as a whole at any opportune moment… Thorn simply sat there silently, taking it all in and allowing Simone to go on tangent after tangent to get the full picture. After Simone finally ran out of words to say he nods and removes one of his gloves. Exposing a dark metallic hand. Reaching out with it, he takes her hand from across the table.
“Kid. How the hell are you still sane?” he says with a sincere apologetic smile, “If I had known… I wouldn’t have dropped ya when I did. I’m sorry.”
Simone huffs through her nose, blinking back already wet eyes.
“Nothin’ to be sorry about. You did what was best for all of us at the time, and it was the wake up I probably needed. Believe it or not… I’m happy here. Could do without all the bullshit, but it’s worth being here. These are my people, my family. For once in my life I can be proud of who I am. Like, genuinely. That’s how I’m sane.” she replies as she squeezes the metal hand.
“Still… can’t be good for your health. How many times have you ended up in that med bay since stepping on this ship?” Thorn asks.
“A lot… and maybe a lot more. But I’m fine with that. If it means I wake up to see everyone else is alright, it’s worth it. That’s my job after all.” Simone answers with a shrug.
Thorn pulls his hand away and begins to remove his long coat. Under it is a thin black shirt covering an upper body that has no skin. All of his body between his neckline and gut is completely replaced by mechanical parts. It’s nothing Simone hasn’t seen before, but whatever the old man was getting at has captured her curiosity.
“I ever tell ya how I ended up like this?” he inquires, already knowing the answer.
“At least four thousand times that got gradually more unbelievable, yes.” Simone chuckles.
“Heh... Well here’s the truth of it. Back in the days when I served in the Union I was shot down while in a transport shuttle. Shouldn’t have survived, but my stubborn ass decided it wasn’t my time.” he explained.
“Why are ya telling me this again?” Simone asks, not quite understanding.
“Well what I never told ya was that I already lost and arm before boarding that shuttle. Plasma mortar. And by boarding, I mean I took it.” he says while crossing his arms.
This catches Simone’s attention even more, having not heard this version of events yet.
“Why?”
“Because my unit needed extraction. And I was told they weren’t gonna be able to get it. Too hot of a zone, everything and anything in the sky was being blasted into ash. Big wigs were working out a counter offensive to get a land route to my unit, but it was known that it would take far too long. I could see it in their eyes.” Thorn looks down to his hands resting on the table surface, waving the fingers in a smooth flowing motion, “Being the young and dumb bastard I was, as soon as they made sure I wasn’t gonna kick the bucket I bolted, threw the pilot out, and raced on a sucide rescue mission. It wasn’t long before I became a fireball crashing back to the ground in hilarious fashion. I was damn lucky to have been close to one of our forward operating bases. Best part? Most of my unit survived. The coy bastards ducked into an underground cave system just before their position was turned into a massive blackened field. So not only did I get blown to pieces for nothin’, but after I pulled my stubborn miracle I was locked up. For quite a while. Never saw any of my unit again.”
“There wasn’t any way you could’ve known… you had to do something.” Simone tries to reason in comfort.
“See, that’s exactly what I told myself for the longest time. But Thatch, listen good. Sometimes what you have to do, is place your trust in those you want to protect. They ain’t helpless, and I know you feel as though you need to physically do everything in your power to help. But sometimes the cost to you, is far too much. And in trying to do what you think is right, you end up destroying the future your fighting for. It’s not an easy call to make and it may feel like you’re doing nothing. But trusting is something. I don’t want ya looking like me.” the man finishes.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Says the man with an arsenal of inspector-gadget-grade weaponry in his own arms.” Simone counters, though the man’s story certainly left an impression.
“Like I said, I got lucky. Less than a two percent chance of survival they told me. But those aren't odds I want you toy’n with, you hear me?”
Simone purses her lips and nods.
“I hear ya.” she says.
“Good. But if you do decide to do the stupid thing anyway…” Thorn leans in closer, “Make it count.” he winks.
“You bet.” Simone chuckles before raising her drink of water in a promising toast.
“Alrighty. So. With all that out of the way, how can we help you stop the entire galaxy from catching fire?” he asks nonchalantly.
“Good… question. You sure you even want to be brought into all of this?” Simone replies.
“Quite frankly, everything else on the to-do list seems a bit pointless by comparison. So yeah, we’re in.” Thorn affirms.
Simone releases a long thoughtful breath.
“Awesome. Well, I think that’s a better discussion to have with Chak. She’s better with the grand-plan stuff. But for now… your ship has a lot of big guns on it, and we just proved that our ship by itself can’t do all too much in an ambush.” Simone implies.
“You want us to play deterrent? Sure, I think we can do that.” Thorn agrees with a heavy pat on the back of Simone’s shoulder, “Ah, speaking of your little princess. If you thought for a damn microsecond that you’d avoid Brandy throwing you a batcherlorett thing, you thought wrong.”
“I know…”
-
“Devin, was it?” Vin addresses the Terran who stood on a moved crate had his upper half concealed in a ceiling panel.
“Yep.” the muffled voice responds.
“Ah, sincerest apologies for bothering your important work. I know you are already in the midst of giving us your specialized services… but I do have an additional inquiry regarding your capabilities.” Vin says, his nerves barely stifled.
“I can do a lot of things. Fixing this hunk of redundant junk is the priority though. Is it vital?” Devin responds right before a power tool erupts in a loud echoing roar for a straight ten standard seconds.
Taking a step back as his ear flaps thrash at the sudden sound, Vin still remains to ask for certain services.
“Indeed. Are you proficient by chance in repairing automatons?” he says as he massages his ear flaps.
Devin seems to pause in his work, either from consideration or annoyance.
“Yeah. I was a three-time universal champion in AndroidWar at the age of ten before I was disbarred from entering again. But I don’t see how a broken bot is vital. Is it one of the med bay ones?” Devin replies before continuing to blare his tool usage.
This time the Noxii didn’t wait for the sounds to stop.
“No! You see I’m the legal guardian of an Awoken and they-” Vin is interrupted by Devin halting and peaking down to look at the Noxii directly.
“I don’t operate on Awoken.” he informs sternly.
“W-why not?” Vin asks.
“Because. I’m not like a doctor who can do surgery. I don’t like the idea of someone dying while I work on them. Sorry.” Devin replies plainly before sticking his upper torso back up into the ceiling.
“I assume most doctors don’t like people dying under their care either…” Vin points out.
“You know what I meant.” Devin dismisses.
“Please reconsider, Devin. I doubt I will come across anyone with your skill and respect for awoken life. I only want what’s best for someone that I consider my own child. They will not require any sort of weaponry, or anything too complex. I have funds to pay you with as well.” Vin emplores.
Devin’s annoyed muffled sigh rings out before it is overwhelmed by his tool in short measured bursts. Vin starts to believe that he is being blown off, however Devin lowers himself one last time.
“Give me ten minutes to wrap this up. I’ll give ‘em a look and see what I can do. No promises.” he says in a softer tone that lacks its usual bite.
-
“Ha-ha! You guys are awesome at this!” Troy shouts after Meeki snatches the thrown inflated prolate spheroid shaped ‘ball’ from the air in a dexterous side flip.
“Much fun! Much fun!” Meeki agrees, holding the Terran’s ball with both hands up in the air excitedly. Jumping a bit on the smooth but stained floor of the massive cargo-bay in the new Terran’s vessel.
“Right?! Now you gotta slam it into the ground and yell ‘Touchdown!’, alright!” Troy instructs.
Meeki quickly nods and drops face first towards the floor, hammering the ball into it while still holding on. Slumping to the ground, she cackles in her native chitters.
“Touching down!” she shouts, almost forgetting that requirement.
“Uh, almost! I meant you throw it to the ground! My bad! But hey, you do you!” Troy calls out, standing around three hundred feet away.
Meeki gets back up to her feet with a hand against her chest.
“Dearest, please be careful. Your wounds have hardly healed.” Nodrin says as they watch Meeki check her previous injury.
“Apologies, love. You are right, but this catching game is so very fun! I’ll try to not push myself too hard. But first…” she replies before reeling the ball back over her head and with all her Deathworlder might casted it down at the floor.
“Touching-” she shouts.
The ball with great veracity bounded right back up like a missile, smacking under Nodin’s chin.
“D-” Meeki manages to verbally release before the ball completes its revenge by zipping from her bondmate to herself in a combo take-down.
Nodrin stumbles back massaging their chin in light annoyance while Meeki once again face-plants into the floor.
“Ohhohhho shit! You good!?” Troy calls out, not even bothering to stifle his laugh.
“Dearest.” Nodrin says with a whip of their tail.
“By the spirits within us all Nodrin I plead for your loving forgiveness after such a terrible misguided lapse of judgment on my part. My shame knows no end to its deepened void and I cherish you more than I can ever express.” Meeki recites in a monotone voice, not even lifting her face from the floor.
“And…” Nodrin pushes.
“And I plan to attone by tenderly massaging your back and tail while feeding you snacks tonight before bed.” Meeki adds quickly.
Nodrin chitters while squatting down to rustle their bondmate’s head fur with one hand while picking up the ball with the other.
“I hold nothing but forgiveness towards you, cherished. You absolutely lovely fool.” they notify in a laugh before standing straight again.
“Yo! You good!?” Troy repeats, a bit more seriously this time.
“Is good! You catch now!” Nodrin says back.
“Hell yeah! Hit me with your best shot!” Troy invites.
Determined, Nodrin pulls the ball back, mimicking a similar pose as when Troy threw it. Gratt had many sports with inflated animal hide balls like this one, but Nodrin was not the sort to participate. So they have no clue that their current grip on this particular ball is far too tight-
-BOOM-
Frozen in place and pupils dilated to their max, Nodrin now holds no such ball within their grasp. Though they certainly now have a loud ringing within their head.
“Oh damn… Right. Claws. My bad! I’m sure I have a foam one lying around somewhere!” Troy says before turning back in a jog to retrieve said replacement.
Looking up to seeing her bondmate as still as a statue, she begins pushing herself back up.
“Dearest? Is everything alright?” she inquires.
“I think so.” Nodrin replies in a stilted manner, “I believe my life just flashed before my very eyes… and I’ve realized something...”
“Did that sound truly scare you so much?” Meeki says as she places a hand on their back, “What did you realize?”
Nodrins arms drop and their head hangs slightly.
“Despite third-mother Reeta disapproving of my choice to leave with you… I have not one regret in my spirit… not a single one…” they explain.
Irises nearly expanding to the same level, Meeki clutches herself against Nodrin while silently weaving their tails together and rubbing her head against theirs. Adoring this absolutely lovely fool.
“Do you believe paying Troy with joy-herbs for popping his ball is fair?” Nodrin asks.
-
“Look at you! Such a sweet little baby! Who’s a cutie-patootie!?” Brandy coos at the Watath child in her hands.
Essjay squirms playfully evading Brandy’s attempts of nuzzling her nose to theirs. At least Chak is fairly confident about it being a form of playfulness… Essjay’s hisses are low in tone and they never open their mouth in any firm display of displeasure with the situation. Chak has taken it upon herself to extensively study Watath expressions and meanings. Though the idea of their new Terran friend being bitten is still a big concern to her.
“Aww… who’s a venomous lil’ baby!? You are! That’s right!” the Terran continues, sitting cross legged in front of Chak.
“Oh, so you are aware… good…” Chak chirps in relief.
“Of course I am! Little death-cuties like this are my favorite! So friggin cute!” Brandy replies, still using her cooing tone.
“You are used to handling babies of other species?” Chak inquires.
Repositioning Essjay onto lay on their back she begins to scratch at their exposed scales, making the child stretch out in satisfaction.
“Yes ma’am! Did a lot of charity work in refugee camps. Started out barely knowing how to use a stethoscope and by the end I was delivering babies of every sort left and right. Even a few Terran ones. Wasn’t ever medically trained but I grew up on a cow farm on York, so although it’s not the same thing by far… ain’t gonna compare a Dillo to any cow, cuz… by the stars I wish it was as simple as a cow… but when charity staff ran dry I was eventually the best if not only option. I mean, I initially signed up to help lug around supplies, not actually be a Rambo-nurse.” the Terran explains.
“Oh, I see. What compelled you to serve in that charity?” the Cali asks.
“Felt like the right thing to do. After going on a scholarship trip to a Central Galactic University… and seeing all the footage of people suffering from conflicts… I just… had to. You know? Dropped everything and jumped on the first charity ship I could find.” the woman says as she smirks down at the sprawled out Watath.
“You did so, just like that? What of your family?” Chak points out.
Brandy shrugs, her smirk turning into more of a sad smile.
“Home life wasn’t all that great. Hence why I worked so hard to get that scholarship to get out. These bozo’s are my family now.” she says, tilting her head in the direction of the connected ship.
“Oh… I may relate in some way I suppose… How did you end up as a bounty hunter?” Chak questions to hopefully change the mood.
“Well, turns out I picked up quite the skillset working that charity. I had to pick up a rifle on several occasions, bandage up every wound imaginable, track down people stealing more than their share of supplies and even tinkered a bit to get things working long enough until we could get replacements. When the conflicts started dying down I worked odd jobs to get by. Eventually landed on a small station out in the Ferlleic system. Not a lot of Deathworlders out there so I quickly got a reputation of being the ‘Deathworlder handy-lady’ who you could call on to do just about anything! Then one day the ol’ cowboy came to town chasing a real piece of work. A people trafficking bastard. And well… let’s just say I didn’t approve of their choice of ‘business’. Thorn took notice after I apprehended the bastard before he did, offered me a job and it’s been a real adventure since!” Brandy elaborates, though her eyes turn sad once more, “Except… Losing Jamie…”
“Oh I’m so sorry. A dear friend of yours?” Chak says.
“Sure was. Nicest Terran I’ve ever met. A real sweetheart. Loved origami…” a tear sneaks up on Brandy, causing her to quickly wipe away its trail, “Still find sneakily placed swans here and there… that cheeky ball of love. Thorn does his best, but it just isn’t the same without our pilot.”
-
“Okay everybody! Thanks for gathering here, I’m sure we’re about to blow your minds!” Troy says as he stands before nearly everyone of nothe crews at the doorway between vessels.
“Where’s Vin?” Simone asks, looking around for the little green guy.
“He will be here… real soon. Like, really soon!” Troy answers with a big dumb smile.
“What are you up to now Troy…” Brandy interrogates, clearly suspicious of the man.
“Something. Epic.” the young man reassures, “Devin and I put our heads together and accomplished the impossible!”
“It was very possible. And I did all the work.” Devin corrected as he walked into view from the bounty hunter ship.
“Nuh-uh! Come on man I helped!” Troy argues, turning on his heel.
“You… sure did…” Devin replied in a laced tone of exasperation.
“Well, don’t keep us in suspense! Haha! What’s this about?” Chucknuq speaks up.
“Right! It’s my honor to present-” Troy jumps to the side with his hands cartoonishly showing off what's to come next.
Vin comes within sight, stopping and waving over another unseen individual.
“Come on Seven, everyone can’t wait to see you.” he encourages.
To which the entire Kwip-chap crew stands more at attention with great invested interest.
Instead of the expected hovering emission sounds, is near-silent rolling. Akin to rollerblades.
The bot that comes into view is just as familiar as they are surprising. Four dexterous legs with rollers move the familiar body shape that has been patched and modified with extra plating. Their cranium still holds their three orange lights and the core, but with a modified method of attachment. Their arms are completely replaced by thinner appendages and do not have the shielding plating of a security drone.
But what catches everyone’s eyes is the paint job. Hot-rod red with… incredibly well painted neon blue flames… perhaps pretty freak’n sweet to some, but to many others… it’s garish as all fuck.
“Ta-daaa!” Troy announces proudly.
“Oh… Seven? You look- uhm… How are you feeling?” Chak asks, unsure of what to think. Though she is glad to see Seven up and about again.
The bot looks at their new arms, watching as the pair splits into four completely independent appendages.
“The power… I can now make so many-any vegan pancakes!”