A/N: I would like to dedicate this chapter to my only fan who has left me reviews for this story. Thank you, R12! I greatly appreciate your input. To anyone else who has enjoyed this story so far, please leave a review. Apparently something isn't right with my story, so please tell me. – Mr. Pink

Chapter 3

THE WALK HOME

The walk to Vova's apartment was a long and quiet one. It was beginning to get late and the rain continued to fall. It glistened against the shine of the streetlights. Under every available awning and cover from the storm huddled the usual scum of the streets. Junkies scuttled to and fro in the alleys as they looked for their next fix. The local pimps and their respective girls stood against the buildings waiting for a little business to come their way. Every now and then a single vehicle would come roaring past and kick up a spray onto the sidewalk.

We had been walking for quite some time before I noticed Vova was shivering. Until this moment, I hadn't really noticed just how cold it had become outside. I quickly removed my jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She hugged it tightly around her and smiled up at me. "Thanks."

We continued for a short while longer before she stopped and said, "You're going to put the monies back tomorrow morning, right?" Her face now held an amused look on her face.

I paused for a brief moment. I was shocked and some what dumbfounded. How did she know? She hadn't even been in the room when I lifted the register. I continued proceeding with this train of thought and looking into her tentative eyes. I rubbed the back of my neck nervously and replied, "Yeah."

"Good," she chirped, "I wouldn't want my one–and–only brother, who I love oh so dearly, to wind up spending a few days in a dark, little holding cell just because he can't keep his sticky little fingers to himself." A large, toothy smile rapidly spread across her face as she spoke and patted me roughly on the shoulder.

"Love ya'," she stood up on the tips of her boots and kissed me on the cheek.

"I love you too, Vova," I said and gingerly hugged her.

We were still walking and I was beginning to wonder just how much further was it before we wondered off into another sector of the city.

"How much further is it?"

"Not too much further," she replied tiredly. I sensed something in her voice, like she'd been in deep thought about something right before I spoke. "Besides, quite being such a smeet."

"Hmmm, a smeet?" I began to playfully wine. "My feet hurt! I'm tired! I'm hungry!"

She gave a quiet, little laugh. She looked at me and said, "When you work twelve hours a day bussing tables and washing dishes and eating terrible food and earning a pathetic pay stub, THEN you can complain!" She then looked at me for a few moments and started crying. I knew what this was about. This was about THAT PROBLEM. This was about Gorn. I'd have to take care of this.

I wrapped an arm around her waist and, for the second time that night, comforted her about Gorn. "It'll be fine, sis. Please, don't cry. Please, d d don't…" I had to stop talking. For the first time in a LONG while, I was on the verge of tears. I never cry, but it pained me so to see someone do this to her. I could almost taste the sour, sickly feeling welling up in my Squeedly Spooch. I swallowed hard and said, "Come on, let's get you home." I quickly scooped her up into my arms and continued walking at a slightly brisker pace. I was careful not to jostle her too much and within a few minutes she was sound asleep in my arms. I was glad to see that she had calmed down.

Soon enough, I was standing, with Vova in my arms, in front of the towering apartment complex. Almost the entire building was dark, except for a few lights scattered here and there. It was an extremely tall and almost menacing structure. It was a prime example of typical Irken architecture. Large pipes and tubes jutted out haphazardly from the enormous purple slum. Sparks shot out of the large sign above the front door that said, "Irken Arms Tower Block".

I carefully shook Vova awake and said tenderly, "Wake up, we're home."

"No not the piggies! I didn't do it, I swear! I..." she yelled loudly at my left antenna as she returned to consciousness. It took everything I had not to drop her on the hard stoop at my feet. She had always been like this when I'd wake her up, but damn! I'm already partially deaf in one antenna from that DIB stink-beast and his ultrasonic blaster, I don't need anymore help in that department.

As soon as the ringing subsided, I said to her, Calm down. Everything's fine. You fell asleep on the way home." I sat her down on the ground.

"Oh, okay then." She reached into her PAK and pulled out a small coded key card and swiped it through a green slot by the main doorway.

A few moments later, a large slot hissed open to display a metallic yellow screen. "STEP FORWARD TO COMMENCE RETINAL SCAN!" The security computer ordered.

Vova sighed and stepped forward. "I hate this damn thing."

"SILENCE! COMMENCING RETINAL SCAN!"

Then there was a bright flash of light and Vova yelled, "Ah, IT BURNS!"

She stood there screaming and writhing in agony for a few more moments before the light dimmed and she stumbled back.

It didn't take long for the computer to respond. "RESULTS INCONCLUSIVE! PLEASE TRY AGAIN."

Another scan and more ear piercing screaming later, the door relented and we stepped in. "WELCOME TENANT VOVA, #76291-420 AND GUEST! HAVE A MOST PLEASANT DAY!"

The lobby was not quite as I pictured it to have looked. My imagination isn't that good. Liquids dripped from pipes in the ceiling to form nasty puddles on the chipped and stained tile floors. The room was littered with garbage and old furniture. The walls had multiple rusted holes in them that revealed twisted groups of wire, pipes, and tubes. The entire scene was illuminated by the only two functioning lighting tubes in the lobby. I gazed over at the sign outside the elevator that read, "OUT OF SERVICE". It's twin brother hung on the door outside the public lavatory.

"Nice," I said. Then something else caught my attention. I could now smell an odor wafting around the lobby. This "unique" smell reminded me of my found time stationed on planter Compostia 12. Only this was worse!

"It's the best we can do, Stiv. I'm just a waitress," she said defensively as she stepped over a junkie who was getting his fix in the middle of the hallway.

"Hey, watch it lady!" he hollered at her before he passed out.

"What's Ziggy do for monies?" I asked her while I stooped down and checked the guy for a pulse. If he was dead, I might be able to sell his Squeedly Spooch for a tidy sum. If he wasn't dead, I might be able to anyway.

"Is he dead?" Vova asked concernedly.

"Nope, he'll probably be fine," I said. Too bad I was lying.

"Anyway, Ziggy does what he can; mostly odd jobs. He does whatever he can, you know?" She walked over to a door marked "stairs" and motioned for me to come along.

Once she disappeared through the door I quickly boosted the junkie's wallet. It's not like he was going to need it! Once I tucked it safely in my PAK I yelled, "Coming, sis!"

When I walked into the stairwell, I instantly looked up to see the endlessly rotating coil of steps that went on for so long that they disappeared into the darkness of the shaft. After a few moment of looking at this, my legs started to hurt.

"So, what floor do you guys live on?" I thought about how nice it would be for them to have a place on the fourth floor. That would be so nice.

"Me and Ziggy live on the thirty seventh floor."

So much for so nice.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this one. It took me a week to write this. How pathetic is that? Please review. PLEASE!