Gah, I'm sorry for the incredible lack of updates on this. School's been pushing me pretty hard
lately, but once summer gets here I'll have a lot more time to write. Hopefully updates will be
coming faster right now, too, though.
*****
Reanning stepped out of the ship casually, not really too terribly interested in the task at
hand. He stretched, scratching his sides and then behind his ear. His dog-like nose sniffed at the
air unconsciously, caught a few mixed scents, and dismissed the incoming data without a second
thought. He turned to look at the three other officers stepping off of the cruiser.
***
Amelia stared pointedly at the thin Canian officer that had stepped off of the ship. She
was, in truth, quite relieved that she'd heard no robo-constables on board. They generally
couldn't be trusted on long space flights, being made more for inner-planetary etherial
conditions, but. . . it was simply better that they weren't here. Each and every one of them was
loaded with surveillance equipment.
Doppler tilted his head to one side, watching Amelia's actions curiously. She seemed to
be looking at that one guard that had just stepped off, and. . . He glanced back to the thin Canian
guard and a look of understanding dawned on his face. He nodded quickly and raised his pistol a
bit. Silver was eyeing a heavyset Terran that had just stepped off of the vessel. Their bone
structures were slightly different, but Silver had other things to worry about besides loose
trousers.
Then off the ship came a Tuskrus, tentacle-like legs slithering disturbingly down the short
gangplank. Amelia sighed. Well, he'd be useless. She. No, it was a he. . . . maybe. It was hard to
tell with this particularly. . . androgynous species. It didn't matter much. The Tuskrus would be
the only one keeping his uniform today. Amelia smirked a bit as she watched the last officer,
another Terran male (though much more lightly-built than the first) stepped to the dock. That
would be Amelia's man.
Doppler and Silver waited, hidden by the doorway for Amelia to make her appearance.
She looked about ready to come out from under the ship, but paused to straighten her dress
(which, she could hardly believe, she had managed to keep on), and cleared her throat. All four of
the officers jumped and turned to face her quickly. She smiled pleasantly at them and took a
somewhat-cautious step forward. "Gentlemen. . ." she nodded to the courteously.
The four stared at her suspiciously, then suddenly the Canian, Reanning, sprang into
consciousness once more. He stepped over to Amelia, took her hand in both of his, kissed it, and
looked up at her. "To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing such a lady as yourself in this
particular parsec, ma'am?"
Amelia paused, glanced at Doppler (who was looking a bit defensive), then replied to the
officer, "I was coming to look for a friend, sirs." She looked around at the group. "Heard he'd
gotten himself into a spot of trouble."
"If it's that pirate, yer lookin' in the wrong spot. 'E took off this mornin', not two hours
ago, ma'am," replied the Tuskrus in a gravelly voice.
"Yes, I was aware of the pirate's status. . ." said Amelia slowly, the smile on her mouth
curling more and more into a smirk. "I was referring to the boy."
"Ma'am, the boy ain't s'posed t' be gettin' no visitor. Why, we ain't even to-" The Terran
officer stopped. "We ain't. . . even told no one. . . about the. . ."
Amelia suddenly drew a weapon from a fold in her dress, horrid thing as it was. With the
speed with which she drew the weapon, though, you would've thought the flintlock had simply
materialized in her hand. Three of the officers drew flintlocks and pistols of their own, reacting to
Amelia in the blink of an eye. The Tuskrus had no weapon to draw; it was well-known that the
species had terrible eyesight. They generally used the large horn on their forehead for fighting
and defense. However, it would be no match for this Alurian's gun. The lightly-built Terran
spoke.
"Ma'am, we must ask you to drop your weapon or we'll be forced to-"
He was cut short as his flintlock was seemingly torn violently from his hand. He felt a
strong shock in his palm and looked over his shoulder quickly, ignoring the other Terran and the
Canian's shouts of surprise as the Canian's gun was knocked from his own hand and the other
Terran's was kicked away by the Alurian. He spotted two men, one scrawny-looking and the
other much more sturdily built. He didn't fail to notice the wispy trails of used energy floating
from the barrel of the flintlocks in their hands, even from this distance. He spotted his own gun
lying on the dock and began to read toward it quickly, but it was suddenly gone, a blast from the
Alurian's flintlock knocking it abruptly away. The Terran officer looked up furiously.
"Just who do you think you ARE?!" he demanded of the catlike woman. The other three
guards watched this unexpected enemy nervously, their eyes trained on her firearm (though
Reanning's eyes did keep. . . wandering, a bit).
"Who do I think I am?" Amelia's slight smirk remained as she glanced over at Silver and
Delbert quickly. Both wore approving grins. "I believe, sir, that I am. . ." -she glanced at his
badge, pinned smartly to the left side of his chest- ". . . Officer D. Trausch, fourth division, troop
E." She smiled primly.
"Wh- but-" the officer looked somewhat confused, then a look of horror appeared on his
face. "You can't be-"
The Tuskrus chose this moment to roar angrily (a somewhat unprofessional line of action,
Amelia noted). She started to jump back, but was too slow and knocked violently in the side by
the officer's fierce swinging blow.
***
Jim paced back and forth in his cell quickly. They were here. Ohhh, jeez, they were here.
They were here and Silver and Doc and the captain WEREN'T here. This was bad. Jim had stuck
the flintlock into his belt (first making sure it was loaded with the safety on, of course; no use in
being careless), after deciding that it'd be of more use there than it would stuffed under his
mattress. But man, he was nervous. What were they going to do to him? Take him to big prison
back on Montressor? Mom had always been complaining about living to close to that big place
with 'all those criminals'. . . but Jim was still a minor so they would take him to Juvenile Hall,
first. He frowned as he paced. Juvenile Hall now, after all he'd done, and this time it wasn't for
speeding in a restricted area. It was for assisting in the escape of a 'dangerous criminal'. Probably
assault on the guard. And whatever other charges they could pin him with.
Yay.
***
Doppler stood up instantly, a look of defensive fury (that even Silver actually found
somewhat threatening) on his face. One eye was squinted to a narrow slit while the other stared
down the barrel of his flintlock. His teeth were bared furiously and his index finger was putting
just enough pressure on the trigger to pose a serious threat to whoever was in the Doctor's sights
down the barrel. Silver looked up at Doppler, then at the Tuskrus, alarmed. "Doc, w-"
Doppler applied the last bit of pressure to the trigger and a beam of deep purple-blue
energy issued from the weapon. Silver winced and shielded himself from the report with his
cybernetic arm. He began to lower his arm, but Doppler fired again, and the arm quickly went
back up. There were three more shots, and then a pause in which Silver heard only Doppler's
panting breath. He looked up, afraid of what he might see (he was sure it would include the dead
bodies of several guards). He paused, then burst out laughing. Amelia was standing up, none the
worse for wear, smirking a bit at the officers. Doppler had fired several shots around them,
drawing them into a tight circle, practically clinging to each other in fear of being hit. Doppler
grinned, satisfied with his handiwork, and Silver looked toward the Volitant as he heard an
appreciative whistle. Aaron was leaning forward in the bow, applauding his uncle and laughing
along with Silver at the officers' newfound timidity.
***
One of the guards sat leaned back in a small chair, still smirking whenever he thought
about landing a blow on that punk kid's head. He'd always hated kids. His counterpart was
pacing a bit.
"They been undocking fer a long time, eh?" He turned a sharp corner and walked back
across the room. "Been sittin' in port too long, I 'spect." There was a light knocking on the door,
and he nodded. "Ah, that'll be them now."
The guard that had been sitting stood up, straightened his coat, and watched as his shift
mate opened the door. There was a lightly-built officer standing there, looking a bit gruff, despite
the fact that she was a female. It occurred to both of the guards that this was not a woman that
one would want to cross. He sharp glare told them all they needed to know. Followed by this
woman (Alurian being her species) was another officer, also lightly built, but obviously
masculine. If you could call it that. The guy was scrawny. The guards noted that both of their
faces seemed a bit downturned, but neither thought much of it. Sometimes you just get types like
that. Didn't mean much of anything, generally.
***
It'd turned out that Silver would have to stay with Aaron on the police cruiser. They'd
tied up the officers and locked them into the small cabin below deck. Silver was still a bit put off
that he couldn't be in with the doctor and captain, breaking Jim out, but as they were tying up the
guards Amelia had noted that his cybernetic arm would probably be just a tad familiar. He'd had
to agree, of course. They had to get Jim out, with or without him. But still. . .
"So. . . think they'll make it?" Aaron asked quietly, looking down at the wooden planked
deck of the cruiser. He looked up at Silver a bit cautiously. Silver put on a gruff look of 'how-
dare-you-ask-such-a-thing?' but nodded.
"Well, o' course they'll make it, lad! This is th' cap'n and doc and Jimbo we're talkin'
about! Why, they made it out o' one o' me own mutinies!" Aaron's eyes widened in shock at the
mention of Silver's mutinies. Silver quickly raised his hands a bit to make a calming down
motion. "But, o' course I put them days behind me! It's straight sailin' fer this 'ere cyborg, from
now on."
Aaron nodded, one eyebrow still raised suspiciously. "Yeah. . . well, all I've got to go on
is what Jim says. So I guess I've got to trust you."
Silver fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose to fight off the oncoming headache.
'I guess I've got to trust you'? How melodramatic could you get? He sighed a bit. "That's right,
lad. If yeh want t' get out of here alive." He smirked as Aaron's face paled considerably. Served
the little bugger right. Maybe waiting for Cap'n and Doc wouldn't be SO bad. . .
***
Amelia and Doppler glanced at each other, still keeping their faces low. They both turned
back to the guards. Doppler noted Amelia's arms crossed behind her back, her position that she
took when she wanted her authority to be known. He copied it, trying to match her own
demeanor of 'obey me or die'. He felt that his mimicry was somewhat lacking, but his attention
was drawn back to the situation at hand as one of the guards spoke.
"Identification?" the guard asked gruffly. Amelia nodded to him and unpinned her badge
neatly, holding it out for the guard to see clearly. After a moment of inspection, the guard nodded
and handed it back to Amelia. "Trausch, eh? Heard 'bout you a while back." Amelia looked
nervous for a moment, then only nodded. Doppler handed his badge to the guard and received the
same results.
"Alright then!" the other guard piped up. "We'll take yeh fine gents-" he stopped at
Amelia's look. " -and lady. . . back t' th' pris'ner!"
Amelia and Doppler exchanged glances once more, then followed the guards through the
door at the back of the room into the cell block.
***
Jim's fingers trailed to the place where his flintlock was slipped under his belt. Would he
really have to use it? He felt shaky. He doubted he'd be able to hit anyone if he wanted to, with
his aim the way it was. He shook his head and walked back to the bars of the cell, wanting to see
if he could catch a glimpse of the officers that were coming in. But the doorway was on the same
wall as his cell, and he couldn't see anything, no matter how hard he felt like pushing his head
against the metal bars. Smart, Jim. Smart. Stars blinked in front of his eyes as a twinge of pain
shot through his head. His hand went back to the place where the guard had smacked him. The
jerk.
Resigning himself to waiting, Jim sat back on his bunk. He hugged his knees to his chest
for just a second, then put his legs back down. No use in acting like a kid. Not now, when he was
going to have to. . . grow up a little. He looked up as he heard voices at the end of the cell block.
He straightened up, his mind flicking back to the flintlock every now and then.
Yep. Time to grow up.
***
"So. . . they're taking a while, huh?" Aaron laughed nervously and paced a bit in the
small room, his eyes fixed intently on the ground.
"If yeh consider five minutes a long time. . ."
"I mean, it's an in-and-out kind of thing, right? They wouldn't want to take a long time,"
Aaron continued, seemingly unaffected by Silver's sarcastic reply. "What if the guards caught
them? What if they realized? Wh-"
"What if they're FINE?" asked Silver sternly. "Lad, no offense meant, but you're bearin'
a strikin' resemblance t' yer uncle, an' that ain't necessarily a good t'ing."
Aaron blinked in response. Silver shook his head a bit with a slight roll of his eyes and
leaned on the side of the small ship. Suddenly the doc and captain DID seem to be taking a long
time. . .
"Yeah, well. . . we'd better be ready to go, huh? Get out of here fast? Right?" Aaron
questioned tentatively. Silver rolled his eyes once more.
"They'll have plenty o' time." He faced a small internal struggle, then clapped a hand on
Aaron's thin shoulder. The poor kid looked downright shell-shocked. His eyes became wide in
his head as he looked first down at Silver's hand, then up at Silver himself. He smiled a bit
cautiously, then nodded.
"Yeah. . . yeah, okay." Aaron even managed to force out a weak laugh. "They'll be fine.
Right." Silver nodded once and Aaron's smile became a bit more genuine. Maybe this cyborg
guy wasn't so bad. Maybe Jim had been-
***
"Right," Jim assured himself. "Time to get ready. . ." He took a deep breath and sat at an
uneasy posture on the small bunk. His hands pressed into the thin mattress, ready to push him off
at a moment's notice. Jim had formulated only one plan in his head thus far. If he got a chance,
he'd break and run. But not unless it was wide open. He'd. . . he'd have to. . .
Who the hell was he kidding?
Jim figured he might as well dump the flintlock right now to prevent trouble later. He
could shove it under the mattress again and forget he'd ever had it on him. All that would come
of him having it would be a few more years in prison. Which was just what he needed. 'Hey,
everyone, guess what? I got another couple a' years added on for concealed weapons! Great,
huh?' Haha. Funny.
Right.
Oh good, footsteps and muttering. Classic elements of any suspenseful tale. Jim lifted his
head slightly to listen, then crossed his arms in front of his chest and kept his face tilted
downward, an appropriate scowl set into his features. Yeah, they could take him to trial, but he
wouldn't like it. That's what the scowl said. What a threat, coming from an incarcerated
seventeen-year-old who had basically screwed himself into oblivion. Well, we get what we
deserve. Make the best of it.
Jim lifted only his eyes to knee-level of the four figures that had stopped in front of his
cell. So much for making the best of it. He sized up the officers (to the extent that one can,
having one's judgement based on a from-the-knees-down view) and was surprised that he found
himself first deciding that one was a little on the scrawny side, and the other, a female, was
probably on the attractively curvy side. Secondly he decided that finding an officer's calves
attractive was moderately disturbing.
"You look up t' yer s'periors, now, kid," growled one of the guards (both of whom were
standing behind the officers that had come in).
Jim sighed (silently), and reluctantly raised his eyes. As soon as they'd come to mid-torso
on the 'officers', Jim's whole head shot up. He gaped openly for the time period of about two
seconds, and then he shook his head just slightly and replaced his shocked expression with one of
mild annoyance. He couldn't help but let a slight smile of utter and total relief tug on the corners
of his mouth, though, when he looked at the faces of the two figures standing in front of the
guards. He never thought he'd be so happy to see Doc and Amelia.
"I think it's about time we got you out of here," Amelia said with a slight wink. Jim used
all of his self-control not to burst out laughing. From the look on Doppler's face, he was having
the same problem. Jim could hardly believe his luck. He was getting out. They'd come back for
him. It was. . . unbelievable.
His joy was shattered when he remembered that he'd thought of Amelia as being 'on the
attractively curvy side'.
*****
THERE. There. I did it. It's probably got flaws that will last in your memories forever because it
was so blatantly flaw-filled, but I just needed to get something out. It had to be done.
lately, but once summer gets here I'll have a lot more time to write. Hopefully updates will be
coming faster right now, too, though.
*****
Reanning stepped out of the ship casually, not really too terribly interested in the task at
hand. He stretched, scratching his sides and then behind his ear. His dog-like nose sniffed at the
air unconsciously, caught a few mixed scents, and dismissed the incoming data without a second
thought. He turned to look at the three other officers stepping off of the cruiser.
***
Amelia stared pointedly at the thin Canian officer that had stepped off of the ship. She
was, in truth, quite relieved that she'd heard no robo-constables on board. They generally
couldn't be trusted on long space flights, being made more for inner-planetary etherial
conditions, but. . . it was simply better that they weren't here. Each and every one of them was
loaded with surveillance equipment.
Doppler tilted his head to one side, watching Amelia's actions curiously. She seemed to
be looking at that one guard that had just stepped off, and. . . He glanced back to the thin Canian
guard and a look of understanding dawned on his face. He nodded quickly and raised his pistol a
bit. Silver was eyeing a heavyset Terran that had just stepped off of the vessel. Their bone
structures were slightly different, but Silver had other things to worry about besides loose
trousers.
Then off the ship came a Tuskrus, tentacle-like legs slithering disturbingly down the short
gangplank. Amelia sighed. Well, he'd be useless. She. No, it was a he. . . . maybe. It was hard to
tell with this particularly. . . androgynous species. It didn't matter much. The Tuskrus would be
the only one keeping his uniform today. Amelia smirked a bit as she watched the last officer,
another Terran male (though much more lightly-built than the first) stepped to the dock. That
would be Amelia's man.
Doppler and Silver waited, hidden by the doorway for Amelia to make her appearance.
She looked about ready to come out from under the ship, but paused to straighten her dress
(which, she could hardly believe, she had managed to keep on), and cleared her throat. All four of
the officers jumped and turned to face her quickly. She smiled pleasantly at them and took a
somewhat-cautious step forward. "Gentlemen. . ." she nodded to the courteously.
The four stared at her suspiciously, then suddenly the Canian, Reanning, sprang into
consciousness once more. He stepped over to Amelia, took her hand in both of his, kissed it, and
looked up at her. "To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing such a lady as yourself in this
particular parsec, ma'am?"
Amelia paused, glanced at Doppler (who was looking a bit defensive), then replied to the
officer, "I was coming to look for a friend, sirs." She looked around at the group. "Heard he'd
gotten himself into a spot of trouble."
"If it's that pirate, yer lookin' in the wrong spot. 'E took off this mornin', not two hours
ago, ma'am," replied the Tuskrus in a gravelly voice.
"Yes, I was aware of the pirate's status. . ." said Amelia slowly, the smile on her mouth
curling more and more into a smirk. "I was referring to the boy."
"Ma'am, the boy ain't s'posed t' be gettin' no visitor. Why, we ain't even to-" The Terran
officer stopped. "We ain't. . . even told no one. . . about the. . ."
Amelia suddenly drew a weapon from a fold in her dress, horrid thing as it was. With the
speed with which she drew the weapon, though, you would've thought the flintlock had simply
materialized in her hand. Three of the officers drew flintlocks and pistols of their own, reacting to
Amelia in the blink of an eye. The Tuskrus had no weapon to draw; it was well-known that the
species had terrible eyesight. They generally used the large horn on their forehead for fighting
and defense. However, it would be no match for this Alurian's gun. The lightly-built Terran
spoke.
"Ma'am, we must ask you to drop your weapon or we'll be forced to-"
He was cut short as his flintlock was seemingly torn violently from his hand. He felt a
strong shock in his palm and looked over his shoulder quickly, ignoring the other Terran and the
Canian's shouts of surprise as the Canian's gun was knocked from his own hand and the other
Terran's was kicked away by the Alurian. He spotted two men, one scrawny-looking and the
other much more sturdily built. He didn't fail to notice the wispy trails of used energy floating
from the barrel of the flintlocks in their hands, even from this distance. He spotted his own gun
lying on the dock and began to read toward it quickly, but it was suddenly gone, a blast from the
Alurian's flintlock knocking it abruptly away. The Terran officer looked up furiously.
"Just who do you think you ARE?!" he demanded of the catlike woman. The other three
guards watched this unexpected enemy nervously, their eyes trained on her firearm (though
Reanning's eyes did keep. . . wandering, a bit).
"Who do I think I am?" Amelia's slight smirk remained as she glanced over at Silver and
Delbert quickly. Both wore approving grins. "I believe, sir, that I am. . ." -she glanced at his
badge, pinned smartly to the left side of his chest- ". . . Officer D. Trausch, fourth division, troop
E." She smiled primly.
"Wh- but-" the officer looked somewhat confused, then a look of horror appeared on his
face. "You can't be-"
The Tuskrus chose this moment to roar angrily (a somewhat unprofessional line of action,
Amelia noted). She started to jump back, but was too slow and knocked violently in the side by
the officer's fierce swinging blow.
***
Jim paced back and forth in his cell quickly. They were here. Ohhh, jeez, they were here.
They were here and Silver and Doc and the captain WEREN'T here. This was bad. Jim had stuck
the flintlock into his belt (first making sure it was loaded with the safety on, of course; no use in
being careless), after deciding that it'd be of more use there than it would stuffed under his
mattress. But man, he was nervous. What were they going to do to him? Take him to big prison
back on Montressor? Mom had always been complaining about living to close to that big place
with 'all those criminals'. . . but Jim was still a minor so they would take him to Juvenile Hall,
first. He frowned as he paced. Juvenile Hall now, after all he'd done, and this time it wasn't for
speeding in a restricted area. It was for assisting in the escape of a 'dangerous criminal'. Probably
assault on the guard. And whatever other charges they could pin him with.
Yay.
***
Doppler stood up instantly, a look of defensive fury (that even Silver actually found
somewhat threatening) on his face. One eye was squinted to a narrow slit while the other stared
down the barrel of his flintlock. His teeth were bared furiously and his index finger was putting
just enough pressure on the trigger to pose a serious threat to whoever was in the Doctor's sights
down the barrel. Silver looked up at Doppler, then at the Tuskrus, alarmed. "Doc, w-"
Doppler applied the last bit of pressure to the trigger and a beam of deep purple-blue
energy issued from the weapon. Silver winced and shielded himself from the report with his
cybernetic arm. He began to lower his arm, but Doppler fired again, and the arm quickly went
back up. There were three more shots, and then a pause in which Silver heard only Doppler's
panting breath. He looked up, afraid of what he might see (he was sure it would include the dead
bodies of several guards). He paused, then burst out laughing. Amelia was standing up, none the
worse for wear, smirking a bit at the officers. Doppler had fired several shots around them,
drawing them into a tight circle, practically clinging to each other in fear of being hit. Doppler
grinned, satisfied with his handiwork, and Silver looked toward the Volitant as he heard an
appreciative whistle. Aaron was leaning forward in the bow, applauding his uncle and laughing
along with Silver at the officers' newfound timidity.
***
One of the guards sat leaned back in a small chair, still smirking whenever he thought
about landing a blow on that punk kid's head. He'd always hated kids. His counterpart was
pacing a bit.
"They been undocking fer a long time, eh?" He turned a sharp corner and walked back
across the room. "Been sittin' in port too long, I 'spect." There was a light knocking on the door,
and he nodded. "Ah, that'll be them now."
The guard that had been sitting stood up, straightened his coat, and watched as his shift
mate opened the door. There was a lightly-built officer standing there, looking a bit gruff, despite
the fact that she was a female. It occurred to both of the guards that this was not a woman that
one would want to cross. He sharp glare told them all they needed to know. Followed by this
woman (Alurian being her species) was another officer, also lightly built, but obviously
masculine. If you could call it that. The guy was scrawny. The guards noted that both of their
faces seemed a bit downturned, but neither thought much of it. Sometimes you just get types like
that. Didn't mean much of anything, generally.
***
It'd turned out that Silver would have to stay with Aaron on the police cruiser. They'd
tied up the officers and locked them into the small cabin below deck. Silver was still a bit put off
that he couldn't be in with the doctor and captain, breaking Jim out, but as they were tying up the
guards Amelia had noted that his cybernetic arm would probably be just a tad familiar. He'd had
to agree, of course. They had to get Jim out, with or without him. But still. . .
"So. . . think they'll make it?" Aaron asked quietly, looking down at the wooden planked
deck of the cruiser. He looked up at Silver a bit cautiously. Silver put on a gruff look of 'how-
dare-you-ask-such-a-thing?' but nodded.
"Well, o' course they'll make it, lad! This is th' cap'n and doc and Jimbo we're talkin'
about! Why, they made it out o' one o' me own mutinies!" Aaron's eyes widened in shock at the
mention of Silver's mutinies. Silver quickly raised his hands a bit to make a calming down
motion. "But, o' course I put them days behind me! It's straight sailin' fer this 'ere cyborg, from
now on."
Aaron nodded, one eyebrow still raised suspiciously. "Yeah. . . well, all I've got to go on
is what Jim says. So I guess I've got to trust you."
Silver fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose to fight off the oncoming headache.
'I guess I've got to trust you'? How melodramatic could you get? He sighed a bit. "That's right,
lad. If yeh want t' get out of here alive." He smirked as Aaron's face paled considerably. Served
the little bugger right. Maybe waiting for Cap'n and Doc wouldn't be SO bad. . .
***
Amelia and Doppler glanced at each other, still keeping their faces low. They both turned
back to the guards. Doppler noted Amelia's arms crossed behind her back, her position that she
took when she wanted her authority to be known. He copied it, trying to match her own
demeanor of 'obey me or die'. He felt that his mimicry was somewhat lacking, but his attention
was drawn back to the situation at hand as one of the guards spoke.
"Identification?" the guard asked gruffly. Amelia nodded to him and unpinned her badge
neatly, holding it out for the guard to see clearly. After a moment of inspection, the guard nodded
and handed it back to Amelia. "Trausch, eh? Heard 'bout you a while back." Amelia looked
nervous for a moment, then only nodded. Doppler handed his badge to the guard and received the
same results.
"Alright then!" the other guard piped up. "We'll take yeh fine gents-" he stopped at
Amelia's look. " -and lady. . . back t' th' pris'ner!"
Amelia and Doppler exchanged glances once more, then followed the guards through the
door at the back of the room into the cell block.
***
Jim's fingers trailed to the place where his flintlock was slipped under his belt. Would he
really have to use it? He felt shaky. He doubted he'd be able to hit anyone if he wanted to, with
his aim the way it was. He shook his head and walked back to the bars of the cell, wanting to see
if he could catch a glimpse of the officers that were coming in. But the doorway was on the same
wall as his cell, and he couldn't see anything, no matter how hard he felt like pushing his head
against the metal bars. Smart, Jim. Smart. Stars blinked in front of his eyes as a twinge of pain
shot through his head. His hand went back to the place where the guard had smacked him. The
jerk.
Resigning himself to waiting, Jim sat back on his bunk. He hugged his knees to his chest
for just a second, then put his legs back down. No use in acting like a kid. Not now, when he was
going to have to. . . grow up a little. He looked up as he heard voices at the end of the cell block.
He straightened up, his mind flicking back to the flintlock every now and then.
Yep. Time to grow up.
***
"So. . . they're taking a while, huh?" Aaron laughed nervously and paced a bit in the
small room, his eyes fixed intently on the ground.
"If yeh consider five minutes a long time. . ."
"I mean, it's an in-and-out kind of thing, right? They wouldn't want to take a long time,"
Aaron continued, seemingly unaffected by Silver's sarcastic reply. "What if the guards caught
them? What if they realized? Wh-"
"What if they're FINE?" asked Silver sternly. "Lad, no offense meant, but you're bearin'
a strikin' resemblance t' yer uncle, an' that ain't necessarily a good t'ing."
Aaron blinked in response. Silver shook his head a bit with a slight roll of his eyes and
leaned on the side of the small ship. Suddenly the doc and captain DID seem to be taking a long
time. . .
"Yeah, well. . . we'd better be ready to go, huh? Get out of here fast? Right?" Aaron
questioned tentatively. Silver rolled his eyes once more.
"They'll have plenty o' time." He faced a small internal struggle, then clapped a hand on
Aaron's thin shoulder. The poor kid looked downright shell-shocked. His eyes became wide in
his head as he looked first down at Silver's hand, then up at Silver himself. He smiled a bit
cautiously, then nodded.
"Yeah. . . yeah, okay." Aaron even managed to force out a weak laugh. "They'll be fine.
Right." Silver nodded once and Aaron's smile became a bit more genuine. Maybe this cyborg
guy wasn't so bad. Maybe Jim had been-
***
"Right," Jim assured himself. "Time to get ready. . ." He took a deep breath and sat at an
uneasy posture on the small bunk. His hands pressed into the thin mattress, ready to push him off
at a moment's notice. Jim had formulated only one plan in his head thus far. If he got a chance,
he'd break and run. But not unless it was wide open. He'd. . . he'd have to. . .
Who the hell was he kidding?
Jim figured he might as well dump the flintlock right now to prevent trouble later. He
could shove it under the mattress again and forget he'd ever had it on him. All that would come
of him having it would be a few more years in prison. Which was just what he needed. 'Hey,
everyone, guess what? I got another couple a' years added on for concealed weapons! Great,
huh?' Haha. Funny.
Right.
Oh good, footsteps and muttering. Classic elements of any suspenseful tale. Jim lifted his
head slightly to listen, then crossed his arms in front of his chest and kept his face tilted
downward, an appropriate scowl set into his features. Yeah, they could take him to trial, but he
wouldn't like it. That's what the scowl said. What a threat, coming from an incarcerated
seventeen-year-old who had basically screwed himself into oblivion. Well, we get what we
deserve. Make the best of it.
Jim lifted only his eyes to knee-level of the four figures that had stopped in front of his
cell. So much for making the best of it. He sized up the officers (to the extent that one can,
having one's judgement based on a from-the-knees-down view) and was surprised that he found
himself first deciding that one was a little on the scrawny side, and the other, a female, was
probably on the attractively curvy side. Secondly he decided that finding an officer's calves
attractive was moderately disturbing.
"You look up t' yer s'periors, now, kid," growled one of the guards (both of whom were
standing behind the officers that had come in).
Jim sighed (silently), and reluctantly raised his eyes. As soon as they'd come to mid-torso
on the 'officers', Jim's whole head shot up. He gaped openly for the time period of about two
seconds, and then he shook his head just slightly and replaced his shocked expression with one of
mild annoyance. He couldn't help but let a slight smile of utter and total relief tug on the corners
of his mouth, though, when he looked at the faces of the two figures standing in front of the
guards. He never thought he'd be so happy to see Doc and Amelia.
"I think it's about time we got you out of here," Amelia said with a slight wink. Jim used
all of his self-control not to burst out laughing. From the look on Doppler's face, he was having
the same problem. Jim could hardly believe his luck. He was getting out. They'd come back for
him. It was. . . unbelievable.
His joy was shattered when he remembered that he'd thought of Amelia as being 'on the
attractively curvy side'.
*****
THERE. There. I did it. It's probably got flaws that will last in your memories forever because it
was so blatantly flaw-filled, but I just needed to get something out. It had to be done.