I would completely revamp all these chapters, but there is something charming about my old writing style, even if I don't like it. Plus, my new style isn't much better. But at least I can run through these old chapters and make things easier on the eye and on the brain.
I don't own Outlaw Star OKAY! (Bursts into tears) WHAT"S YOUR PROBLEM? PICKING ON US POOR OBSESSERS! YOU'RE SICK! ALL OF YOU EVIL PEOPLE, HOLDING OUT ON THE SEQUEL WE ALL KNOW THERE SHOULD BE!
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Jim backed out of the room as Gene dialed up Fred on the vid-phone. Sure, Fred was always there when S&H Enterprises was in a jam, but that didn't mean Jim had to like him.
-Beep-
"We're sorry, but the party you have dialed is not responding. For 75 cents let repeat dialing call you back when the line is-" Gene hung up the receiver with a sigh, drumming his fingers on the counter as he paused for a moment to think. Where else could Fred be but home? Though, it was the weekend, and when a person has that much money, what would keep him from going out and spending some of it? Even so, that didn't seem much like Fred's style, in Gene's opinion anyway. Pulling himself away from the vid-phone, Gene walked to the kitchen to rummage for a mid-morning pick-me-up. The fridge was as barren as an unoccupied hospital room, but at least it was clean. A lonely can of some off-brand soda sat in the corner next to a bottle of ketchup and a few tin-foiled pancakes left over from breakfast, but with a C'tarl in the house, those pancakes wouldn't last much longer. --Damn girl probably doesn't know there is any left over-- Gene mused --when they're gone, she'll probably move on to finish off the ketchup--. But at the very least, he wouldn't let her have the soda, and so he liberated it from its cold empty prison and its fate of producing a caffeinated cat-girl.
"Is it all clear?" a puff of blonde hair appeared from behind the couch as Jim cautiously peered over it, attempting to keep out of the peripheral range of the vid-phone.
"Yeah, it's clear." The lanky man tapped the top of the can a few times out of habit, though he doubted very much that it would fizz after the extensive amount of time it had been in the fridge. Shuffling sleepily, his feet brought him absentmindedly back into the living room, and a grin pulled at the corner of his lips as he spied the hiding boy.
"That had to have been the fastest negotiation I think you've ever had with Fred. Whatdya do? Promise to sleep with him?" Jim came out from hiding and vaulted the couch, flopping comfortably into one of it's cushions. He chuckled a little bit to calm his nerves, but even picking on Gene hadn't helped much.
"Why you little…" The redhead idly threatened, plopping down next to his younger partner in crime and punching him playfully on the shoulder. "Actually, I didn't talk to him at all. No one picked up," Gene cracked open his soda and took a quick gulp, relaxing back into his seat.
"Huh?" A puzzled look crossed Jim's face as he rubbed his shoulder, getting up and taking a seat in the chair across from Gene instead, "Someone always answers his phone. Are you sure you dialed the right number?" Jim grinned teasingly; after all, it wouldn't be the first time.
"You put it on speed dial knuckle-head, so if it's the wrong number, it's your fault, not mine" the red haired outlaw shot back, taking another sip out of the slightly dented can.
"Maybe he's gone to one of his other locations and taken his lackeys with him…" Jim thought out loud, "Or he decided to actually use his unending pile of money and got himself a vacation…"
"Don't kid yourself," Gene stood up and stretched, setting his refreshment down on the coffee table in front of him, "You know that he always has someone there to answer his calls, what kind of business would he be running if he didn't?"
"One like yours," Aisha sneaked up behind him, jabbing him in the small of the back with a finger.
"Goddamnit, Aisha!" Gene jumped nearly a foot in the air out of surprise, staggering forward to catch his breath. In the time it had taken him to turn around to yell at her for sneaking up on him, Aisha had already seated herself in what had once been his spot on the couch, and was sipping contentedly at his half finished soda.
"Mmm, still cold," She grinned and smacked her lips, enjoying herself immensely.
"You know what? Fuck you." A rather disgruntled Gene gave up and took the seat beside her.
"I'd never lower my standards that much," The C'tarl C'tarl tossed her white blonde hair haughtily and sniffed at him, "Anyway, what is this you two seem so worried about?" Her ears twitched lopsided in question, viewable even beneath her veritable mane of hair.
"It's Fred, we called and no one picked up, which is very unusual," the young boy said, eyes still deep in thought.
"Of all the understatements of the year, that one takes the cake," Gene scoffed, "Fred is a merchant, merchants make lots of money, do you know why?" The blank stares from the other two obviously meant a unanimous "no." "Because they make sure there is always some way to contact them. With the ability to be contacted at anytime, comes the ability to pursue any offer, order, or contract. And Fred, of all people, is probably the merchant of merchants. He could be lost in space and his bodyguards could give you a number to reach him with," Gene sighed, "Even I know that."
"Ya' know, If something were wrong, you could probably find out what it was on the computer," Aisha turned away from Gene to ignore him and gave her advice to Jim, smiling softly at the boy she seemed to have taken sides with.
"Aisha, you're a genius!" Jim's blue eyes widened at her idea and he hopped out of the chair excitedly to run to his room to consult his trusty laptop.
"I'm glad someone noticed" The cocky C'tarl said while taking another sip from the stolen can.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Gene blew off her comment, finally turning to look at her, "That's your idea of getting dressed!" On the couch beside him was the young C'tarl woman, who formally had been wearing a tank top and flannel pants, was now wearing the same tank top and a skirt that rivaled Melfina's in shortness.
"Yeah, it's hot outside, and I'm not wearing armor if I'm just gonna laze around the house," She grinned rather maliciously, deciding to get him back for his comment at breakfast, "Well that and I have a bra and underwear on now." With that she stood up, bent over to show enough cleavage to make the resident naked chick-in-a-box blush, pinched his cheek, and walked slowly to the kitchen to throw away her empty pop can.
"You weren't wearing any what now...!" Mind officially turned to mush; Gene sat immobile in his seat for a bit, reflecting over what she had said. Coming back to his senses a few minutes later, he realized she had been joking. "Hah, I thought the great and mighty C'tarl C'tarl didn't advertise themselves," Gene muttered under his breath, getting up from his seat.
"We don't, we just take pride in what we are and don't mind bragging about it," Aisha grinned again and took a big bite of a sandwich she had made during Gene's coma-like state.
"Would you just shut up Aisha?" he barked, irritated that he hadn't won a single victory during this morning's small war.
"Oh like I'm gonna shut up!" she yelled back, little flecks of beef and cheese flying across the room, her having forgotten her mouth was full.
"Break it up you two. I found out what happened." Jim sat down with a sigh in the seat Gene had yet again formally sat in.
"Damnit, what is this! Steal Gene's seat day? Like twice already!" Gene huffed at them both, "Don't you think that, maybe, I'd wanna sit back down where I was? Maybe!"
"Oh shut up Gene. What is it Jimmy?" She put her hand on Jim's head and ruffled his hair. He hated that, but it cheered him up.
"Bad news," Jim sighed yet again, "The police reports say that Fred was attacked by an assassin."
"No way!" The woman's bright eyes widened as she made a connection in her head, "Oh no, it wasn't Suzu, was it?"
"No, actually the assassin was C'tarl according to the police report. And Fred's mansion was torn all to hell," more worry than usual showed on the boys face as he told them what he had discovered.
"Is he- Is he alive?" Gene even let his concern show at this point. Sure they had their differences, but even if Gene wouldn't admit it, Fred was still a friend all the same.
"That's the worst part," Jim went on, "They think he's being taken to who ever hired the guy in a small grappler heading toward Heiphong II".
"Well shit, they never cease to amaze me" Gene rubbed his temple in frustration, "They all go through all that trouble just to get rid of Fred. Did they at least get a profile on the guy?".
"Actually, they did... Lemme see, it was," Jim's eyes reflected the monitor of his laptop as he scrolled down, looking for the text that would give him the answers they wanted, "Here it is. None of the body guards died in the attack apparently, so they gave a pretty decent description." Jim read down a little further, "C'tarl C'tarl, six foot, dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, gold eyes," his voice came to a stop, "That's weird for C'tarls, isn't it?". Both sets of eyes turned to look at Aisha for an answer, whose face had drained of colour at the news.
"It couldn't be… Anoki?"
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AN:
Anoooki is miiiine you can't havvve him because he's miiiine.
So back off, Character Stealers.