Chapter 17 – Passing Time with the Political Refugees
Not much exciting seemed to be happening on Earth, so the girl behind the keyboard decided to spend a chapter out in space with the Tallest (yay!). The small transport they were traveling on was passing the Ford Galaxy as the digital screen on the wall signaled the beginning third month of the trip.
In the common room of the transport, Red and Purple, disguised in ordinary traveler's garb, sat on a circular couch in the center of the room. They had a tray of food sitting between them and were poking at it with their forks. Purple sighed, "How much longer will it take to get to Earth?"
Red flipped through a traveler's guidebook. "According to this it'll be another three months." He jabbed at a pile of glop on the tray and it hissed. He jumped back, startled.
"I'll be glad when we're off this transport," Purple said, choking down what looked like really old space meat. He swallowed hard and glanced around nervously. "I can't believe there're so many people going to Earth," he said.
"Yeah," Red agreed, "Do you think it has anything to do with those 'Guys in Black' Zim keeps talking about?"
"Maybe," Purple shrugged, "But you'd think we would have known if there were other aliens living on Earth…wouldn't we?"
Red started to reply, but a voice from behind them cut him off. "The ones that travel to Earth are the ones that don't want to be found."
Red and Purple both turned to see a humanoid male with pale blue skin and black hair sitting behind them on the other side of the couch. He looked middle-aged, with a five o' clock shadow, and a scar over his right eye. The Tallest-in-disguise gulped nervously.
"W…were you talking to us?" Purple asked, looking around to make sure there was no one else there.
"You asked a question didn't you?" the man said, "I knew the answer – so I told you."
"Yeah…" Red said, "So…I'm guessing you're one of those who don't wanna be found?"
"That's why we're all here," the man said, "Well…that's why they're all here anyway…myself…I just needed a quiet place to retire."
"Retire?" Purple said, "Isn't it a little early for that? I mean, you can't be more than –"
"I'm 287 years old," the man said, "I think I've earned a quiet retirement. A life's work in the smuggling business will do that to you."
"Why are you telling us this?" Purple asked. Red took a bite of his space meat and nodded, as if the same question had been in his mind.
"It's not illegal, is it?" the man shrugged, "Besides – you two don't seem any better off than I am. Speaking of which – why are you two headed to Earth? What're you running away from?"
"We're not running from anything," Red said indignantly.
"Oh everyone's running from something," the man said, "So what is it? Political trouble? You boys didn't kill anyone, did you?" He grinned, sensing how tense they were.
"That's none of your concern," Red said.
"Yeah," Purple agreed.
The man raised a hand and chuckled softly. "Now now, boys. No need to get worked up about it," he said, "If you don't want to tell me – by all means, keep it to yourselves." He pulled out a death-stick and lit it. "We're all nameless wanderers here anyway. We've all got our secrets." He put the death-stick to his lips and inhaled. (A/N: Death-sticks are STARWARS versions of cigarettes. Just FYI.)
Purple stood up, took Red by the arm and began to lead him away. "Ok well, it's been nice meeting you, uh…sir. But we've gotta be going!" he said, flashing a false smile, then muttered, "C'mon Red…let's not bother the nice man anymore." Purple had almost pulled Red away, when he reached back, grabbed a biscuit off their tray, and then let himself be dragged off.
Once the pair had gone, the man pulled out a small communicator. He pressed a button on the side and spoke into it in a harsh whisper. "Jasten – you there? It's Rourke."
The comm. emitted a bit of static and then, very clearly, Shyra Jasten's voice came through. "What have you got for me, Rourke?"
"The Tallest are heading your way, doll-face," he said.
On the other end of the line, she cringed at the nickname.
"You might wanna keep an eye out for them," Rourke continued, "You know they're after the same thing you are. Do you need any assistance?"
"Have I ever needed assistance, Rourke?" Shyra snapped.
"Well, you better get this done quickly, Jasten," he said gruffly, "The Boss still hasn't forgotten what you did to his space yacht."
"You think I don't know that?" she said irritably, "I told him he'll get his money and he'll get it. Now just keep out of my business." There was a long silence. For a moment Rourke thought she had hung up. But then he heard her mutter, "Thanks for the tip," before she cut the connection.
He pocketed his comm. and blew a ring of smoke in the air.
* * *
Shyra tossed the communicator across the dashboard of the Wraith Shadow angrily. She knew how important the money from this job was. Rourke didn't need to remind her of the failure of her last mission. It was humiliating even to remember it…
…It had been barely a month ago. She had been chasing her bounty half-way across the galaxy. He had led her to the home planet of the Bounty Hunter's Guild. She had chased him through the busy cities and dark alleys. He was running out of energy – while she was still going strong. She finally cornered him in the Boss's space yacht, down in the engine rooms. He had found the Self-Destruct button. Rather than be caught – he destroyed the ship and himself with it, along with a workload of valuable droids. She had gotten off before the detonation, but failed to locate his body afterwards. Since it had been his body her employer had wanted, she did not receive her payment. And she was in debt of €100, 000 to the Boss, as payment for his demolished yacht…
This new job was paying €150,000, which was enough to pay him off and still pay the rent as well. She needed to get this over with and fast. She put her feet up on the dashboard sullenly, and submitted to boredom as she waited for ZS-567 to return with the newest status report.
* * *
By this time, Red and Purple had reached the other end of the ship and entered their private quarters (which was just a fancy way of saying a tiny closet with bunk beds in it). Purple shut the door behind them and wiped the sweat off his brow. "That guy gave me the creeps," he said.
"Tell me about it," Red said, sitting down on the bottom bunk, "You can't trust anybody these days."
Purple shivered and hugged himself, "I'd feel better if we had some SIR units around for protection."
"We can't risk bringing attention to ourselves, remember?" Red said, "Besides, there's a cargo ship full of them following behind us." He stretched out on the mattress, bored.
"There is?" Purple asked.
"Yeah," Red said. Purple moved towards the window. "Don't bother looking for them," Red told him, "They've got their cloaking device on."
"No, they don't," Purple said, staring out the window, "They're right there."
"WHAT???" Red cried. He bolted upright so fast he hit his head on the slats of the top bunk, "Ow!" Grumbling and rubbing the bump on his head, he came up next to Purple at the window. And sure enough, their cargo ship was floating behind them in plain sight. "Of all the idiotic -," Red started. He rolled up his sleeve to reveal a small comm. He pressed its side and said, "Um…hello?? Where's the cloaking device??"
There were a lot of confused noises from the other end of the line and a constant string of apologies, and then the cargo ship vanished from sight.
"That's better," Red said, shutting off the comm., "Really…the morons you meet in this business." He walked away from the window and flopped down on his bunk again, having had enough of the whole situation.
"Red…What's the matter?" Purple asked nervously.
"I'm sick of pretending to be low-lifes," Red said, "I just wanna go back to Irk where we have cable TV and servants to wait on us all day long and people to boss around…you know, the good stuff…"
"You know we can't do that yet," Purple said, "Aside from the very real physical danger to our persons that exists there, we have to pick up those documents from Zia before the bounty hunter gets them."
"Oh…yeah…" Red said, "I knew that…"
"Good," Purple said, climbing up into the top bunk, "So maybe you'll stop complaining for the rest of the trip?"
"Oh all right," Red agreed, "I'll try."
"Thank you," Purple said, shutting his eyes.
After a long moment of silence, his eyes opened again as Red's voice broke the peacefulness, "How come YOU get the top bunk??"
Not much exciting seemed to be happening on Earth, so the girl behind the keyboard decided to spend a chapter out in space with the Tallest (yay!). The small transport they were traveling on was passing the Ford Galaxy as the digital screen on the wall signaled the beginning third month of the trip.
In the common room of the transport, Red and Purple, disguised in ordinary traveler's garb, sat on a circular couch in the center of the room. They had a tray of food sitting between them and were poking at it with their forks. Purple sighed, "How much longer will it take to get to Earth?"
Red flipped through a traveler's guidebook. "According to this it'll be another three months." He jabbed at a pile of glop on the tray and it hissed. He jumped back, startled.
"I'll be glad when we're off this transport," Purple said, choking down what looked like really old space meat. He swallowed hard and glanced around nervously. "I can't believe there're so many people going to Earth," he said.
"Yeah," Red agreed, "Do you think it has anything to do with those 'Guys in Black' Zim keeps talking about?"
"Maybe," Purple shrugged, "But you'd think we would have known if there were other aliens living on Earth…wouldn't we?"
Red started to reply, but a voice from behind them cut him off. "The ones that travel to Earth are the ones that don't want to be found."
Red and Purple both turned to see a humanoid male with pale blue skin and black hair sitting behind them on the other side of the couch. He looked middle-aged, with a five o' clock shadow, and a scar over his right eye. The Tallest-in-disguise gulped nervously.
"W…were you talking to us?" Purple asked, looking around to make sure there was no one else there.
"You asked a question didn't you?" the man said, "I knew the answer – so I told you."
"Yeah…" Red said, "So…I'm guessing you're one of those who don't wanna be found?"
"That's why we're all here," the man said, "Well…that's why they're all here anyway…myself…I just needed a quiet place to retire."
"Retire?" Purple said, "Isn't it a little early for that? I mean, you can't be more than –"
"I'm 287 years old," the man said, "I think I've earned a quiet retirement. A life's work in the smuggling business will do that to you."
"Why are you telling us this?" Purple asked. Red took a bite of his space meat and nodded, as if the same question had been in his mind.
"It's not illegal, is it?" the man shrugged, "Besides – you two don't seem any better off than I am. Speaking of which – why are you two headed to Earth? What're you running away from?"
"We're not running from anything," Red said indignantly.
"Oh everyone's running from something," the man said, "So what is it? Political trouble? You boys didn't kill anyone, did you?" He grinned, sensing how tense they were.
"That's none of your concern," Red said.
"Yeah," Purple agreed.
The man raised a hand and chuckled softly. "Now now, boys. No need to get worked up about it," he said, "If you don't want to tell me – by all means, keep it to yourselves." He pulled out a death-stick and lit it. "We're all nameless wanderers here anyway. We've all got our secrets." He put the death-stick to his lips and inhaled. (A/N: Death-sticks are STARWARS versions of cigarettes. Just FYI.)
Purple stood up, took Red by the arm and began to lead him away. "Ok well, it's been nice meeting you, uh…sir. But we've gotta be going!" he said, flashing a false smile, then muttered, "C'mon Red…let's not bother the nice man anymore." Purple had almost pulled Red away, when he reached back, grabbed a biscuit off their tray, and then let himself be dragged off.
Once the pair had gone, the man pulled out a small communicator. He pressed a button on the side and spoke into it in a harsh whisper. "Jasten – you there? It's Rourke."
The comm. emitted a bit of static and then, very clearly, Shyra Jasten's voice came through. "What have you got for me, Rourke?"
"The Tallest are heading your way, doll-face," he said.
On the other end of the line, she cringed at the nickname.
"You might wanna keep an eye out for them," Rourke continued, "You know they're after the same thing you are. Do you need any assistance?"
"Have I ever needed assistance, Rourke?" Shyra snapped.
"Well, you better get this done quickly, Jasten," he said gruffly, "The Boss still hasn't forgotten what you did to his space yacht."
"You think I don't know that?" she said irritably, "I told him he'll get his money and he'll get it. Now just keep out of my business." There was a long silence. For a moment Rourke thought she had hung up. But then he heard her mutter, "Thanks for the tip," before she cut the connection.
He pocketed his comm. and blew a ring of smoke in the air.
* * *
Shyra tossed the communicator across the dashboard of the Wraith Shadow angrily. She knew how important the money from this job was. Rourke didn't need to remind her of the failure of her last mission. It was humiliating even to remember it…
…It had been barely a month ago. She had been chasing her bounty half-way across the galaxy. He had led her to the home planet of the Bounty Hunter's Guild. She had chased him through the busy cities and dark alleys. He was running out of energy – while she was still going strong. She finally cornered him in the Boss's space yacht, down in the engine rooms. He had found the Self-Destruct button. Rather than be caught – he destroyed the ship and himself with it, along with a workload of valuable droids. She had gotten off before the detonation, but failed to locate his body afterwards. Since it had been his body her employer had wanted, she did not receive her payment. And she was in debt of €100, 000 to the Boss, as payment for his demolished yacht…
This new job was paying €150,000, which was enough to pay him off and still pay the rent as well. She needed to get this over with and fast. She put her feet up on the dashboard sullenly, and submitted to boredom as she waited for ZS-567 to return with the newest status report.
* * *
By this time, Red and Purple had reached the other end of the ship and entered their private quarters (which was just a fancy way of saying a tiny closet with bunk beds in it). Purple shut the door behind them and wiped the sweat off his brow. "That guy gave me the creeps," he said.
"Tell me about it," Red said, sitting down on the bottom bunk, "You can't trust anybody these days."
Purple shivered and hugged himself, "I'd feel better if we had some SIR units around for protection."
"We can't risk bringing attention to ourselves, remember?" Red said, "Besides, there's a cargo ship full of them following behind us." He stretched out on the mattress, bored.
"There is?" Purple asked.
"Yeah," Red said. Purple moved towards the window. "Don't bother looking for them," Red told him, "They've got their cloaking device on."
"No, they don't," Purple said, staring out the window, "They're right there."
"WHAT???" Red cried. He bolted upright so fast he hit his head on the slats of the top bunk, "Ow!" Grumbling and rubbing the bump on his head, he came up next to Purple at the window. And sure enough, their cargo ship was floating behind them in plain sight. "Of all the idiotic -," Red started. He rolled up his sleeve to reveal a small comm. He pressed its side and said, "Um…hello?? Where's the cloaking device??"
There were a lot of confused noises from the other end of the line and a constant string of apologies, and then the cargo ship vanished from sight.
"That's better," Red said, shutting off the comm., "Really…the morons you meet in this business." He walked away from the window and flopped down on his bunk again, having had enough of the whole situation.
"Red…What's the matter?" Purple asked nervously.
"I'm sick of pretending to be low-lifes," Red said, "I just wanna go back to Irk where we have cable TV and servants to wait on us all day long and people to boss around…you know, the good stuff…"
"You know we can't do that yet," Purple said, "Aside from the very real physical danger to our persons that exists there, we have to pick up those documents from Zia before the bounty hunter gets them."
"Oh…yeah…" Red said, "I knew that…"
"Good," Purple said, climbing up into the top bunk, "So maybe you'll stop complaining for the rest of the trip?"
"Oh all right," Red agreed, "I'll try."
"Thank you," Purple said, shutting his eyes.
After a long moment of silence, his eyes opened again as Red's voice broke the peacefulness, "How come YOU get the top bunk??"
