Author's Note: So... that took a little longer than I expected. Apologies for the delay. I had summer school all June - got to get those hours - and it just burned me out. Very stressful class when three months of material is crammed into one. Left me exhausted. But it's over now, and I've finally managed to churn out this chapter. Enjoy!

The Bounty Shuttle was a large battle cruiser that sliced across the bleakness of space, somehow managing to make it look even bleaker than before. It was a large ship with gun turrets around the front and large crystallized star drives on either side. It was enough to make anyone turn and run for their mothers.

Inside was a large grimy cockpit, filled with the latest in criminal-hunting technology. DNA scanners, oxygen analyzers and the like were downloaded into the computers, and the handheld weapons were full of the most modern retrieval devices, including a boomerang net that never worked when it was important.

The Captain, known as Dracip, passed around his captain's chair, checking over the shoulders of his various subordinates. "Have we got a trace?"

"Possible location," said his number one. "Seems they're traveling through space towards the space sport in the Snagglefrumping Sector."

"I see… Take us there, helmsman. We'll intercept them ahead of their landing."

"Aye, Captain."

The ship zoomed in the direction of the spaceport.

The next spaceport was much larger than the first one. It was several hundred stories high, floating in space as several star liners and shuttles zoomed in and out of it. It was a beautiful vision for anyone who was privileged to see it.

Unfortunately, our heroes were not seeing it. All they could see was darkness in their very confined space. If they'd thought the compartment was small, this was just downright cramped. They were all pressed together, waiting impatiently for a chance to stretch the various kinks they were developing. Attempts at conversation had fallen a bit flat in the circumstances. Things were intimate enough as it was.

Imagine their relief when the compartment door opened, and they saw Galaxoid and Nebular peering down at them from the corridor. "Okay, we need to get going," Galaxoid said quickly. "We've got a shuttlecraft waiting for us. We just need to get across to the big green shuttle waiting across the platform. We can slip into it and zip away to the Frishnig System."

Calvin blinked through the fluorescent light. "Shuttle waiting. Got it," he grunted, making to climb out.

"Now wait a minute!" Grandfather snapped. "Who says you're getting out first? Respect for the elderly!"

"Oh, hush," grunted Sherman. "You're lucky we didn't flush you into space."

Calvin ignored them and climbed out of the baggage compartment and into the corridor. Hobbes and Socrates crawled out next, followed by Andy, who had Sherman in his shirt pocket and Grandfather in his cage with a heavy-duty padlock on it now.

"Come on," Nebular said. "This way to the exit hatch."

They stumbled along the corridor, hoping they weren't found. Although they were onboard legally, after all the trouble they'd been in, they weren't eager to be confronted by an annoyed guard or some similar sort of authority.

Galaxoid threw a glance out the nearest porthole to see what the situation was. They hadn't quite docked yet, so they were still in motion. The perpetual nighttime of the spaceport was a romantic poet's dream, with neon lights dancing off each other against the twinkling stars in the background. It did his heart good to see such a serene scene.

Then, he saw something that made his heart sink back to its previous pessimistic level and then some. It was a large battle cruiser slinking into port, coming to a gentle stop at one of the terminals. The hatch door slid open, and out stepped five reptilian creatures in uniform with weapons that were enough to make any decent citizen request a restroom break.

They were here. Those creatures that were searching for the Earth Potentate were here. They were sniffing around, pushing various passengers aside and holding up scanning equipment, clearly trying to locate their prey.

Galaxoid swallowed heavily. "They're here…," he whispered.

"Who's here?" Hobbes asked.

"The bounty hunters are here! They're practically surging through the spaceport."

"Then let's just surge right back at them!" Socrates declared, holding up his fists like a boxer. "Lemme surge 'em! Lemme surge 'em, guys!"

"We most certainly will not!" Galaxoid snapped, holding him back.

Socrates pouted. "Killjoy."

"How'd they even find us?" Calvin demanded.

"They've been tracking us. But don't worry."

"Worrying actually sounds pretty good right now," Andy said.

"We can get past them," Nebular said. "As long as the shuttlecraft we ordered gets here on time, we'll be set. We just need to sprint across the platform to the shuttle."

They looked out the porthole for any sign of the shuttle, but all they could see, as their ship ground to a halt, was the team of bounty hunters harassing the staff and various patrons with questions, holding up the posters with their faces on them.

Andy filled in the voice. "Have you seen these four dangerous individuals and their eight-year-old driver?"

"Let it go," Sherman sighed.

At that moment, the most dreadful thing happened. The bounty hunters were heading straight for the ship. They strode up the gangplank that would let the passengers off. They flashed their badges at the ship's personnel and stormed onboard.

"They'll be here any minute," Calvin gulped. "Anyone have any suggestions?"

"Give yourselves up. You had a good run," Grandfather said in a tone laced with false kindness.

"Stow it, you. We're not fossils yet," Socrates growled.

Hobbes threw a glance over his shoulder at the baggage chute behind them. An idea set up camp in his fuzzy noggin and compelled him to reach over and open it. "Okay!" he announced. "All ashore that's going ashore!"

Immediately tagging onto his idea, the others started chucking their luggage down the chute, and then Andy, carrying the hamster cage, dove in as well.

Galaxoid and Nebular goggled in horror. "No, wait! We can't - !"

Socrates grabbed them both and effortlessly chucked them down the chute, listening to their screams all the way down. He dove in after them. Hobbes helped Calvin up into the chute, and then he dove inside, slamming the door shut behind him just as a bunch of bounty hunters thundered through the corridor with their trackers.

"They've gone down there!" the one with the really big tracker exclaimed.

"How do we get down there?" another asked.

The leader growled. "I know where they're going."

Our heroes landed in a heap atop their luggage, not to mention each other. They staggered upright and looked around for a possible escape.

Galaxoid was fretting already. "We can't possibly hide in here! We'll miss our shuttlecraft! We'll have to ride the ship all the way to the next space port!"

"Nonsense!" Calvin snorted. "Just a matter of finding the exit!"

Their would-be planning session was interrupted by the arrival of a giant claw that came down from above and snatched up a large piece of luggage. It took it up and across to the large conveyor belt that took it and several other bags up to a large tunnel in the wall.

"… Found it," Nebular announced.

The claw was already coming back to pick up its next bag. The group ran as fast as they could to keep up with it. It suddenly descended upon someone's large briefcase, and they made a mad grab for it. With the hamster cage and a few bags wrapped around his legs, Andy managed to grab hold of it, and he grasped tightly as it took him across the room and to the conveyor belt. It dropped him, Sherman and Grandfather with a thud and carried them away.

The others prepared for another mad dash as the claw rapidly returned and prepared to descend again. With a well-timed pounce, Hobbes managed to grab hold of it and grasped the metal prongs as they in turn grasped a bag of golf clubs. Galaxoid and Nebular both made a desperate grab for it as it rose, and they both managed to nab the golf bag. Regrettably, Nebular accidentally grabbed the golf clubs, and they slid loose, causing him to plummet back to the ground with Calvin and Socrates, briefly raining heavy metal golf clubs on them.

Hobbes and Galaxoid were dumped on the conveyor belt with the now-empty bag, and they disappeared into the tunnel.

"Okay, gotta make this one count," Calvin murmured, locking his eyes on the claw.

Socrates looked around quickly, trying to determine which bag would be taken next so he could already be there when the claw arrived. Trusting his instincts, he ran over to a duffel bag, dragging Calvin and Nebular behind him. The claw returned and proceeded to descend on them, grasping them in its grasp instead of the bag, and they were comfortably lifted up and onto the conveyor belt, following their friends out of the ship.

"How'd you know that would happen?" Calvin demanded.

"I got mad tiger skillz," Socrates replied as if it were obvious.

The belt carried them all the way up through the bowels of the ship before they saw the fluorescent light of the space port platform. They continued their climb until they reached the end and landed in a pile of luggage. Luckily, the others were already there, and they reached down to pull them onto their feet and tentacles.

Galaxoid had already scanned the platform and saw what he was looking for. The shuttlecraft awaited on the opposite side like a golden chariot. "Quick! This way!" he ordered.

Regrettably, just as they were starting to move, they came face to face with the side of another shuttlecraft, and then another, followed by five more. Seven more shuttlecrafts, all in formation, came in for a landing, creating a barricade between them and their transport.

"Oh, no!" Galaxoid wailed, feeling his heart sink once again.

To make matters worse, the bounty hunters had just exited the ship and had spotted them. "There!" one of them shouting, pointing with a long hair finger in the group's direction. The thugs-for-hire bounded down the ramp, trying to get to the gang before they escaped.

Fortunately, Calvin's determination was a force to be reckoned with. "All right, lads! Follow me!" he ordered, and with considerable speed, he took off for the line of shuttlecrafts. Hobbes grabbed the bags and immediately followed him. Socrates and Andy grabbed the rest of the luggage and hightailed it, followed by Galaxoid and Nebular.

Calvin made it to the center shuttlecraft and immediately forced the door open, stumbled through the small passenger area before forcing the opposite door into a similar open position, providing an exit for the group to use in order to reach their escape. Hobbes crawled through next, followed by Andy, Socrates, Galaxoid and Nebular.

The drivers watched them stumble through in stupefied silence.

The shuttlecraft was still sitting there, waiting for them. Calvin forced this door open as well, scrambling inside.

Dracip and his officers made it to the shuttlecraft, but they were much bigger and bulkier than our heroes, so they stuck fast when they made it to the door. Frustrated, the ones stuck behind couldn't bear to wait, so they started forcing their way through the other shuttlecrafts as well.

Hobbes, Andy, Socrates, Galaxoid and Nebular hurled all their bags into the shuttle and scrambled inside. Galaxoid was the last one in, and his turned around to shut the door, he saw Dracip had forced his way through the shuttle of his choice and was stumbling in his direction. With a yelp, the little alien slammed the door and fell over as the bulky bounty hunter collided with their ship.

The startled driver looked over his shoulder in fear. "I better get extra for this," he whimpered.

"Drive!" everyone shouted in return.

Agreeing that this was for the best, the driver forgot his monetary needs and initiated launching procedure as fast as he could. With a great deal of wobbling, the ship took to the air, rising above the frazzled bounty hunters before they got their wits back, and it zoomed out of the space port, making it to the relative safety of space.

Dracip was surrounded by his officers, all of them staring up at the shuttlecraft as it became but a speck in the night sky. He glared up at it with mounting fury. "So that's how you want to play it…," he said in a deep growl.

Hours later, Calvin was sprawled on the extra-soft purple couch in their hotel room. The place was beautiful. Galaxoid and Nebular had spared no expense. The living room was very plush, with doors that connected to various hallways that took them to bedrooms and bathrooms. The others were off somewhere, putting their things away. The only one still with him was Hobbes. The two friends had shared a room for so long now they were very much used to being together all the time.

Hobbes was sitting in the corner tinkling on a piano. He had no rhythm whatsoever, but he was content to play it nonetheless. The room was luxurious and stressful at the same time. Luxurious because of how relaxing it was, with nothing to do or anywhere to go. Stressful for the same reason. It was as if their room was cut off from the rest of the world, surrounded by cotton balls and dunked in a vat of thick vanilla pudding. There was the dull throb of traffic outside, but it was soothing instead of intrusive.

Calvin saw a bowl on the table full of alien fruit. Picking out one that looked vaguely edible, he took a bite. The tangy flavor danced across his taste buds in a pleasing way, and he settled back onto the couch in appreciation. He was a naturally picky eater, but there was still a part of him that was interested in strange and new foods. Unlike the strange green slime his mother cooked all the time – no matter she cooked, it always came out as green slime – this stuff had an aesthetic quality that drew him to it. Such a rich texture that he couldn't help but be intrigued.

Hobbes finished tinkling on the piano and got down on the floor, walking along like an actual tiger would – which he was, in case you'd forgotten. He sniffed around the room, taking in all the odors. His sense of smell was greater than that of a human's, so he was much more akin to absorbing his surroundings through his olfactory senses.

The two friends had rarely any time to themselves these days. So much stuff was happening in their lives that they hardly had time for goofing off and enjoying peace and quiet. While they liked to act like running from morally dubious beings from other worlds was fun and exhilarating, there were times when they felt they were more vulnerable than ever. Now, with their faces plastered all over the galaxy as these bounty hunters sought them out, Calvin and Hobbes found themselves in hiding. Sure, they were hiding in a luxurious hotel, but now they were trapped inside it.

A gilded cage was still a cage, after all.

Calvin was musing on all of this as he watched his friend stalk the room. Realizing he was sounding a little too mature for his liking, he found his voice. "Fruit?" he asked, holding a piece out for Hobbes.

Hobbes sniffed the air, taking in the aroma of the fruit. He was a carnivore. He wanted something meaty. "No, thanks," he replied without looking up, still crouching around.

Calvin sighed. He finished the fruit and sat up. "Hobbes, I'm bored!" he whined.

"I know," his friend replied, still sniffing around. "I'm bored, too."

"Can't we do something fun?"

"I think this place is too fancy for fun."

"Fancy people must do something for fun! Don't they have water balloon fights or play in the mud?"

Hobbes looked around. "I don't see any mud."

"That was just an example! Can't we do something interesting?"

The tiger looked at his friend before smirking deviously, in that way that Calvin absolutely hated.

"Hobbes…?"

Once again reminded that his friend was a carnivore, he began to back away as the jungle cat began to creep towards him with narrow eyes, both playful and scheming. His tail flicked back and forth.

Taking that as his cue, Calvin turned and jumped over the couch just as Hobbes pounced at him. The tiger rebounded off the wall and headed back towards him. They were soon running around in circles, one trying to outrun the other.

They were so busy with this activity that they didn't notice Grandfather enter. He walked through the half-open door and watched them for a moment before electing to ignore them and head for the nearby window. He crawled up onto the windowsill and peered outside at the alien city below. He didn't want to be trapped in here with these ninnies. He wanted to be out there, partying it up and enjoying himself. For him, the night was still young.

His spirits were further squashed by the arrival of Andy, Sherman and Socrates. They too ignored their friends trying to kill each other, for the three of them were in a heated debate.

"I do not snore!" Andy snapped irritably.

"Do, too," Socrates replied.

"Do not!"

"Do, too!"

"Shermie, do I snore?"

The genius hamster leapt from his friend's shoulder to the comfy couch, aware that his answer would cause displeasure. "We share a room. Why do you think I put a force field around my cage every night?"

Grandfather looked up from his window-gazing. "Now, Shermie – don't mock the afflicted."

Sherman rolled his eyes. "I was just kidding."

"Kid all you want. He's the one who has to live with it. He can't help it if his nasal passages are clogged to the point he can barely draw in a single breath. His flawed human biology has riddled him with so many imperfection, I should think a little thing like snoring should be more forgivable."

"I don't snore!" Andy thundered, clearly riled up.

Just as Hobbes had Calvin dangling from the light fixture over their fireplace, swiping at him from below, the door swung open, and Galaxoid came in carrying an armload of envelopes. "Okay, everyone. Time to go to work."

Calvin pouted as he continued to dangle. "Aww, come on, Galaxoid! We're having fun at long last!"

"What is all this?" Socrates asked, taking one of the envelopes that had his name on it.

"Ohh, hate mail, death threats, general nastiness," Galaxoid said, dumping the mail in a heap on the floor.

"From who?!" Hobbes asked, looking alarmed as he allowed Calvin to drop to the floor once more.

"Word of your bounty has reached the far edges of the galaxy. One of the downsides of all this fame is that you're going to get a lot of very strange mail."

Sherman picked up one of the envelopes that had his own name on it. "Ignoring the fact that we're all thoroughly creeped out by this – because that should go without saying – they use paper and envelopes to send mail?"

Nebular was just coming into the room and caught the question. "The Universal Postal Service is a bit more together," he explained. "Shall I just sort it for you?"

Everyone stared at the gigantic mound. "That might take several ice ages," Calvin said, looking disturbed by the idea.

Nebular held up a remote control and aimed it at the pile. With the press of a button, the envelopes began to fling themselves at the feet of their recipients. The five earthlings watched in amazement as they each acquired their mail. In a matter of seconds there were four small mounds of mail for Calvin, Hobbes, Socrates and Sherman, each one nicely stacked.

Andy, however, looked down at the single envelope at his feet, looking very disappointed. "Is that it?" he demanded.

Nebular shrugged. "Looks like it. Sorry."

"This isn't fair! Even the haters don't care about me!"

"Maybe they heard you snore," Grandfather muttered.

"How'd the mail get sent to us anyway?" Hobbes asked. "I thought we were hiding here."

"Universal Mail always finds its owner," Galaxoid replied. "Special homing patterns lock onto your respective brain waves."

"So what do we do with all of this?" Calvin asked. "Toss 'em in the fireplace?"

"No, they need to be answered."

"Why? It's hate mail."

"If they stay here, they can be used as tracking devices," Nebular explained. "The Bounty Hunters can use the signal. They need to be responded to and sent back tonight if we want to avoid them finding us."

Everyone stared at the piles of letters incredulously. "You've got to be kidding me!" Socrates whined.

Andy, meanwhile, was picking up his solitary envelope and opening it. He skimmed it in confusion. "Who the heck is Boyd and why am I invited to his club?"

Calvin reached over and grabbed the note as everyone gathered around. Even Grandfather got down from the window to look at it.

"Says here these guys are inviting you to their club. It's a gambling den. Champagne, caviar, free buffet, formal attire, the whole nine yards."

"And they want me?" Andy asked, incredulous.

"Big spender," Hobbes remarked.

"Are you sure that wasn't for me?" Socrates asked, reaching for the letter. "I'm the rich one."

"Doesn't matter," Galaxoid said, snatching the invitation away. "You're not going. Out of the question."

Andy looked a bit disappointed in having the decision taken from him. "Aw, come on."

Grandfather made it to the invitation and snatched it away. "No, lad, he's right," he said sternly. "These places would swindle you for every cent you owned. All that champagne, fancy food, sandwiches, women with loose morals… It's disgusting, I tell you. The precise reason this universe is going down the tubes!" Halfway through his rant, he rolled up the invitation and slipped it away somewhere.

"Hey, that's mine," Andy protested.

"Come on, hurry up," Galaxoid said urgently. "Unless you want those brutes coming down here and dragging you away, I want you to stay in this room and get to work."

Knowing that a possible mutiny was going to arise any second now from his authority, Galaxoid thought it necessary to grab Nebular and drag him away before the earthlings had a chance to voice their displeasure. With the task set for them, the two aliens turned and left the room.

Calvin, Hobbes, Andy, Sherman and Socrates looked at the piles of letters. Andy was still pouting. Sure, it might seem nice to know that he didn't have hate mail duty like the others, but part of him felt left out. He felt small and insignificant while the others were getting all the publicity.

Socrates looked his letters over. "… Anybody got a pen?" he asked.

Hobbes opened one of his and scanned the contents. He let out a low whistle, impressed by what he was reading. "Good grief," he murmured. "Even translated to English, this is still ridiculously silly."

Sherman looked at one of his own. He was impressed by the technology on the sheet of paper. "Looks like some sort of digital letter," he said. "There are little buttons on the bottom corner of the paper. You can hear the letter read out loud and then record an audible response."

Socrates scratched his chin. "I wonder if Bill Gates would corner this market…"

Calvin, however, picked up all his letters and set them down on the table. Then, he proceeded towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Hobbes asked.

"While the aliens are away, the earthlings shall play," he replied with a shrug, opening the drawer where he had stashed the perception filters. He passed out all five and headed for the door. "Let's hightail it."

The others agreed. Although they knew they were on the run, they needed to get out for a bit and relax, let off some steam. They needed to relieve this cabin fever for a bit and take in the sights.

Grandfather watched as they made their way to the door. "What about the hate mail?"

"You read 'em!" they all chorused back before disappearing into the night.

Grandfather smirked before pulling out the invitation. He had other ideas. He was going to make use of it and see who this Boyd fella was. Still, he didn't know where he would acquire any "formal attire". He didn't think they made little suits in his size.

There was a knock at the door. He slipped the invitation away again, but it was only a waiter. What took Grandfather by surprise was the appearance of the waiter. He was tiny fella, apparently rodent in species.

"I'm here to clear up, sir," he said in a voice that had a faint accent.

"Er… yes," Grandfather agreed, backing away to give him room to work.

As the waiter set to clearing away the mess the boys had made, Grandfather shadowed him, trying to get an idea as to this fellow's measurements. He began to smirk again as they seemed to be the same as his…