I'm finally back. No reviews to gush over this time.and you see what you
get? No story in 2 weeks! I forget if I don't see something telling me that
"oh yeah, I posted something on there." I'm pretty senile and forgetful for
a 14-year-old, I hope I never get past the teenage years at this rate.
Anyways, onward with the chapter.
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*
Faye surveyed her ship as she entered the docking bay. The curled back metal and burns proved it was still an awful mess from the fight she had been in earlier. Jet had somehow managed to do a few things with it, but speaking generally, the main director had only very sparse amounts of time to work on her; it was more than obvious. Now, with both his arm and a leg disabled, Faye knew an amount of what she brought in would go to repairs. She jumped into the cockpit and thrust in the key, bringing the ruddy vehicle roaring to a forced start. She groaned, seeing her fuel gauge creeping toward the "E". Not wanting to waste any more gas, she blasted immediately from the bay and off of Mars.
"Hmmm.who to turn in today." she muttered in a singsong voice to herself. She delicately pressed a series of buttons on her dashboard, a list of available bounties appearing on her screen. Ever since "Big Shot" had gone off air, life had gotten much more difficult for the average bounty hunter. Fortunately, before Ed left, she wired every ship directly into ISSP headquarters, making what had been a pain in the ass for everyone else a breeze for the beautiful bounty hunter.
"Robert Staints.1.6 million woolongs," she read aloud. "Fortune teller that doubles as a red eye dealter.last seen on Venus." she cringed. Going to Venus meant passing by Earth. Earth meant many tragic memories. Tragic memories meant a lot.including Spike. Her heart again tore in two as she remembered one of her favorite features, his smile. A single tear escaped down her cheek, a strand of hair getting caught in the salty stream. She shamefully wiped it away. She could be suicidally depressed after she got the woolongs.
After a long trip to Venus, she landed her bucket of barely functioning bolts at the entrance of a highly reccommended repair shop. "Can I help you, baby?" a man said as he appeared from the shadows. He looked at least 45 with long, straggly, oil stained white hair hanging in unkept dreadlocks around his shoulders. He had a hillbilly smile with only 6 or 7 brown lumps of what appeared to be teeth. She snorted in disgust. Pervert, she thought to herself.
"Start by not calling me that," she snapped.
His lips curled into a smile. "Come on now, honey, no need to get testy." His hand slinked downwards suggestively.
Faye growled. Her temper had been pushed a mile over the line. In an instant, she had spun around, slapping him with all the strength in her, leaving a magenta handprint on his face. Before he was given a chance to recover, she grabbed the collar of his dirty shirt and slammed him against the wall. She pulled her gun free and dug it into his chest, then added to the intimidation by putting her knee dangerously close to his groin. "You are going to fix my ship, you are going to tell me everything I want to know, and you WILL NOT TOUCH MY ASS, YOU SICK BASTARD!"
The old man's eyes were two giant saucers staring back at the dangerous woman. "Y-yes ma'am!"
Finally so bored he wanted to die, Jet flopped his aching body to face the TV and turned it on. A screen of black and white lines greeted his less than pleased face. "Piece of shit." he groaned. He kicked it angrily. Images replied to his violence, an old western. He blinked. "I guess there really is something to smacking up old machinery." He pulled out another cigarette as he watched his show. I don't care what they say, he thought. Niccotine is great for your health.
Faye walked into the "Red Deseret" bar. Just by the name, it was apparent this one was slightly too fancy for her tastes, but from what the mechanic had said, Mr. Staints's likings ran in a different direction. She took a seat on a centered satin barstool. Her eyes darted around the room as she looked for a man matching his described features-a lanky, blonde man with unusual silver eyes. He was easy to spot; from anywhere in the room, the attractive male's eyes could be spotted gleaming under his blonde locks. She smiled. Flirting would be far less painful with this one then it had been in previous bounties. (This was Faye's favorite way to bring in a bounty, with her lustriously beautiful body.) She strutted to his table, feeling every man's eyes dull of dissapointment as she sat by him.
"Hey there, dearie."
"Hello, Faye Valentine."
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~* Hence, chapter.uh.whatever this one is, finishes. I promise you, I won't remember if I don't get reviews! The fact it took me this long should be proof of that. 'Till then, ja ne. ^-^
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*
Faye surveyed her ship as she entered the docking bay. The curled back metal and burns proved it was still an awful mess from the fight she had been in earlier. Jet had somehow managed to do a few things with it, but speaking generally, the main director had only very sparse amounts of time to work on her; it was more than obvious. Now, with both his arm and a leg disabled, Faye knew an amount of what she brought in would go to repairs. She jumped into the cockpit and thrust in the key, bringing the ruddy vehicle roaring to a forced start. She groaned, seeing her fuel gauge creeping toward the "E". Not wanting to waste any more gas, she blasted immediately from the bay and off of Mars.
"Hmmm.who to turn in today." she muttered in a singsong voice to herself. She delicately pressed a series of buttons on her dashboard, a list of available bounties appearing on her screen. Ever since "Big Shot" had gone off air, life had gotten much more difficult for the average bounty hunter. Fortunately, before Ed left, she wired every ship directly into ISSP headquarters, making what had been a pain in the ass for everyone else a breeze for the beautiful bounty hunter.
"Robert Staints.1.6 million woolongs," she read aloud. "Fortune teller that doubles as a red eye dealter.last seen on Venus." she cringed. Going to Venus meant passing by Earth. Earth meant many tragic memories. Tragic memories meant a lot.including Spike. Her heart again tore in two as she remembered one of her favorite features, his smile. A single tear escaped down her cheek, a strand of hair getting caught in the salty stream. She shamefully wiped it away. She could be suicidally depressed after she got the woolongs.
After a long trip to Venus, she landed her bucket of barely functioning bolts at the entrance of a highly reccommended repair shop. "Can I help you, baby?" a man said as he appeared from the shadows. He looked at least 45 with long, straggly, oil stained white hair hanging in unkept dreadlocks around his shoulders. He had a hillbilly smile with only 6 or 7 brown lumps of what appeared to be teeth. She snorted in disgust. Pervert, she thought to herself.
"Start by not calling me that," she snapped.
His lips curled into a smile. "Come on now, honey, no need to get testy." His hand slinked downwards suggestively.
Faye growled. Her temper had been pushed a mile over the line. In an instant, she had spun around, slapping him with all the strength in her, leaving a magenta handprint on his face. Before he was given a chance to recover, she grabbed the collar of his dirty shirt and slammed him against the wall. She pulled her gun free and dug it into his chest, then added to the intimidation by putting her knee dangerously close to his groin. "You are going to fix my ship, you are going to tell me everything I want to know, and you WILL NOT TOUCH MY ASS, YOU SICK BASTARD!"
The old man's eyes were two giant saucers staring back at the dangerous woman. "Y-yes ma'am!"
Finally so bored he wanted to die, Jet flopped his aching body to face the TV and turned it on. A screen of black and white lines greeted his less than pleased face. "Piece of shit." he groaned. He kicked it angrily. Images replied to his violence, an old western. He blinked. "I guess there really is something to smacking up old machinery." He pulled out another cigarette as he watched his show. I don't care what they say, he thought. Niccotine is great for your health.
Faye walked into the "Red Deseret" bar. Just by the name, it was apparent this one was slightly too fancy for her tastes, but from what the mechanic had said, Mr. Staints's likings ran in a different direction. She took a seat on a centered satin barstool. Her eyes darted around the room as she looked for a man matching his described features-a lanky, blonde man with unusual silver eyes. He was easy to spot; from anywhere in the room, the attractive male's eyes could be spotted gleaming under his blonde locks. She smiled. Flirting would be far less painful with this one then it had been in previous bounties. (This was Faye's favorite way to bring in a bounty, with her lustriously beautiful body.) She strutted to his table, feeling every man's eyes dull of dissapointment as she sat by him.
"Hey there, dearie."
"Hello, Faye Valentine."
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~* Hence, chapter.uh.whatever this one is, finishes. I promise you, I won't remember if I don't get reviews! The fact it took me this long should be proof of that. 'Till then, ja ne. ^-^
