Space.
It's cold. It's empty. It's lifeless until you find a specific planet.
And a majority of this certain area was ruled under Horde Prime.
Finding a planet under the rule of its original owners was a rarity in this galaxy nowadays. Nearly every planet was either uninhabited to begin with or mechanized beyond repair, with Horde Troopers swarming the streets. The original bits of the landscape would be few and far between, with citizens forced to accept what was to come. Some citizens were "lucky". They were personally chosen by the Horde to join them. It was "better this way" for them. Random citizens. Citizens who had a fine life before.
Citizens like…like him.
Twenty years. It had been twenty years since that fateful day. The day one of Horde Prime's men was tasked to take over her planet. Soon enough, that ship came down, the Horde Troopers came out, and she lost the most important person in her life. In a single day, her life was changed.
But Fizzler was not one to give up. Sure, that single day changed her life. It changed the lives of everyone on her planet. It would never be in the same glory that it originally was. Even if every single bit of Evil Horde presence could be eliminated from her planet, it would still never be the same.
At least, it would never be the same without him. It could be a dying husk of a planet, fully mechanized with everyone under its control. But just knowing that he was still alive, still with her, why, that would be enough to make it all worth it.
In fact, that's why she knew. She was one-hundred percent adamant and sure that he was still alive. And when she found him, it would be simple. He'd rush right up to her, they'd catch up on every moment of lost time, and they'd go back and be their perfect team again. Just like their childhood. Just like twenty years ago. Just like the past.
Just like how it should have always been.
The funny thing about space travel is how easily one loses their sense of time. Soaring through space in a rocket scooter might not be the speediest or most glamorous way of travel, but progress was happening. According to her satellite system, she would reach her planet destination in only about five hours' time. Not a problem at all, she could easily keep pushing along!
Or, at least she could, if that unfortunate beep didn't happen.
"And I was doing so good on time…" Fizzler mumbled to herself, sighing.
Granted, she was actually doing horrible on time. If she was still on her home planet, it would have been late sundown. Far past a reasonable dinnertime, and certainly far past "getting to a location at a proper hour" time.
"…We can still make it at this rate, right, Blinks?" Fizzler nervously asked, trying to give off a smile that was obviously faltering to her pet, as the beep continued.
Blinks, being just an animal, of course, didn't say a single thing. However, his blank stare, almost looking disinterested, managed to say everything to his owner.
"…Right." Fizzler sighed, as she punched in some new coordinates on the scooter's screen and veered left.
Within the half hour (the droning beep still continuing), Fizzler's new coordinates had brought her to a small planet. It seemed pretty empty for the most part, made up of desert and little worth.
"Sillikate 3." Fizzler read to herself, still coasting through the dusty area via her scooter's hover mode, still with the protective covering up above her. "If the map's correct, it should be…"
Sure enough, with only an extra mile of driving through the empty desert, a small stretch of building was revealed. Still plopped in the middle of nowhere, it was a small establishment with a restaurant, motel, and spaceship energy ports attached to it. Nothing fancy, but the perfect thing for such a blank and bland planet as this.
And not a single Horde member in sight.
The motel was, for all intents and purposes, a shoddy location. The neon light proudly claimed there was "vacancy", as that same neon light fizzed and crackled more than a light should, with sounds almost sounding like it would pop at any second. The structure of the building itself was made of a dark wood that seemed to be local to the planet, but a wood that was obviously used ages ago. Peeling, splintery, with nails jutting out, a far cry from the cold and metallic tech that the Horde poured into the planets that they conquered. Instead, this building was old, gross, and looked like it could cave in on itself at any moment.
But it also looked like a building that had feeling. A building that was built from the heart, and not from cold technological construction. A building that was stuck in time, but would never even want to adapt.
Pulling into a parking spot on the energy port bay, there were only a few other ships that were also taking up spots. Most of them looked like heavy-duty industrial ships, meant for goods transport from other planets, though there were a scant few "passenger" ships, ones meant for a small group to travel with just what they needed. Granted, these ships were much older and meant for more than what Fizzler's small scooter ship would allow for, though small pangs of jealousy still rang through her.
"Come on, Blinks." Fizzler said, attempting to shake off her envious feelings as she shut her scooter off, the motor stopping with a hum, along with the infernal beeping. The feline jumped out from the sidecar, as Fizzler popped the trunk, pulling her bag out from it and then pressing it shut.
As the two stepped away from the space, thick glass walls slid up around the scooter, with electricity crackling through the newly-created "room". A red digital bar materialized on one of the panels, blinking slowly.
"Should be charged by morning." Fizzler said, partly to Blinks, and partly to herself. "Come on, boy. Better get in now."
If Sillikate 3 wasn't enough of a ghost planet from appearance alone, the lobby of this rundown motel certainly solidified it. First off, there wasn't a single other soul in the room. It looked like there was meant to be someone maintaining the front desk, or someone originally did, but all of that was replaced with an odd podium, even if the now-empty pegboard for keys and cubbies for mail still remained.
The podium was a thin metal pole with a thicker metal cylinder resting on top of it. This weird contraption was standing where a desk clerk should be behind the desk. It was shiny, sleek, and futuristic. While it stood out from the rustic exterior of the motel, it looked clean and promising, instead of cold and foreboding like Horde tech. And yet…it just didn't seem like it should be there.
"…Hello?" Fizzler called out, sounding a bit apprehensive. Surely this couldn't be the ONLY "help" that the motel had to offer, right? "Is…anyone here?"
Silence. Fizzler waited for a few moments, but nothing happened. Sucking in a breath between her buck teeth, she tentatively took a step up to the podium. On further inspection, there were small bits of additional material on the cylinder: a red knob and a slit that sliced through the lower third of the cylinder's makeup. Written right above the slit, along with a triangle pointing downwards like an arrow, was simply the words "PAY HERE".
"…A little bit direct, but okay…" Fizzler muttered to herself. She placed her duffel bag down on the desk that still remained (Blinks jumped onto the desk soon after), unzipped her belt pouch, and pulled out the plastic card that she was holding onto: a credit card. "So, I guess I just…"
Sliding the black strip of the card through the slot sent a satisfying "beep" through the lobby, a wordless noise that was simply interpreted as "card accepted". As Fizzler placed her card back into its spot in the pouch, she waited for something to happen. Granted, it was only a few moments that something did happen, but it felt like it was ticking down to infinity in her mind. Soon, the cylinder made an odd "clunk", as it jostled downwards slightly…save for the red knob, which was now exposed further.
"…So, do I take this, or what?" Fizzler asked, as if someone else was going to answer her in the empty void of a lobby.
Realizing that she wasn't going to get an answer, she cranked at the knob, pulling it out of the device, revealing a small key attached to it. The key had the number "3" attached to it, hinting at a room number. Seconds after she grabbed the key, the device popped out a second red knob and pulled itself back up to its regular position.
"…I don't think I like this planet too much." Fizzler sighed, grabbing her bag again and starting to walk away towards the rooms, Blinks leaping off of the desk to follow her.
The rooms were nothing special. A single bed in the main room, a nightstand next to the bed, a TV on top of the dresser in front of the bed, and a tiny bathroom separate from them all. The TV itself was an old model, looking like it hadn't been updated in ages. The wood furniture had faint stains on them, from lack of cleaning or pure neglect, it was hard to judge. The carpet was a very outdated pattern, but it was at least a short and clean material, most likely to keep the sand of the planet from tracking in. Sure, it could be called "homey", but it certainly could never be called "home", at least, not to Fizzler.
"Ugh, this sucks." Fizzler sighed, tossing her duffel bag onto the bed, pulling her helmet off of her head, putting the key on the nightstand, and then flopping down herself onto her back onto the free space on the bed. "Could have been making brilliant time, and yet here I am, stuck for the night at this hole in the wall."
Blinks simply jumped onto the bed, and onto Fizzler's chest, the feline pressing down with his front paws and giving a husky and yowling "meow".
"Ow." Fizzler dryly said. Yes, that was a tender spot, but Blinks did this so many times now, that it was basically second nature, along with also being basically his way of saying "feed me now". "All right, we can get some food. I mean, I guess that diner's still open this late."
Placated, Blinks jumped off of his owner and scrambled near the door, waiting for Fizzler to make her move there, too. Lying down for a couple moments more, Fizzler eventually sighed, hoisting herself up from the bed, grabbing the key again, and walking towards the door.
Luckily for the two of them, the diner was still open, in a way that seemed like it was always open no matter the time of day. Unluckily for them, it looked like a location that no one had bothered to eat at in ages. Walking into the restaurant made it seem like it was somehow stuck even further in the past than the motel, and not in a good way this time. The carpet was even more outdated and tacky in pattern than the one in the room, the booths had thick fabric patches on them that were off enough from the upholstery in color and material that they were obvious fix jobs, and the whole place was barren, save for one man at the very back booth. Fizzler couldn't make out his species at a glance, he was asleep with his head on the table and a variety of empty and foreign bottles scattered near him.
A sign in the front of the diner simply read "Please seat yourself". Instead of a cheerful hostess waiting up front with menus to guide her to a location, it looked like the menus were already tucked into the corners of the booth tables, waiting for the customers. Tentatively, Fizzler sat in the booth that was closest to the door, with Blinks leaping into the adjacent one and curling up. Fizzler grabbed one of the menus and started to pour over it. It was an old double-sided one that was in a plastic sheet that was lightly stained with who-knows-what from who-knows-when and had an uncomfortably sticky feeling to it.
Ignoring this lingering uncomfortableness in felt texture, Fizzler continued to read through the menu, until she mentally decided on something. As if on cue, once she put down the menu, the looming aura of someone standing next to her grew as she cautiously turned towards the exit point of the booth.
Now standing next to the table was a horned lizard-like alien woman, dressed in what Fizzler assumed was the waitress outfit for the establishment.
"Can I help ya, darlin'?" The waitress asked, pulling out an outdated data pad, her accent unfamiliar to Fizzler, but with the unrestrained sound of "I want to go home" in her voice.
"Uh, yeah." Fizzler said, looking back at the menu. "I'll just have the…pie of the day, with the added topping, and a sweet tea, please."
"And your robot?" The waitress asked, gesturing the pad that she was typing the order into towards Blinks.
"What oil grades do you have?" Fizzler asked.
"Unleaded, premium, and ultra." Was the response she got.
"Saucer of unleaded, please." Fizzler responded.
The waitress nodded, typing in the second part of the order, and walked back off to behind the diner counter. Thanks to the simplicity of the order, it only seemed to take a few minutes for the order to already be ready.
"Enjoy, you two." The waitress said, placing the piece of pie and drink in front of Fizzler and the saucer of oil in front of Blinks, as Fizzler hastily put the menu back into its place.
"Thank you." Fizzler said, trying to sound polite, but wound up sounding meeker than she expected.
Fizzler stuck her straw into the amber drink over ice and took a sip. Sure, it was sweet, but it wasn't sweet enough. Grabbing a couple sugar packets from the container on the table, she ripped them open, poured them into the drink, and swirled it around with her straw. Thanks to the amount of sugar already brewed into the drink, it hardly dissolved. But the second sip seemed a lot more successful to Fizzler, so it worked.
Her train of thought, before she sliced into the pie, filled with a native magenta fruit with a frozen swirl of a light blue custard speckled with black dots, was interrupted by her cat's tinny meow. Blinks had not taken a lap of his oil saucer, and was instead staring his owner town.
"Oh, right!" Fizzler said, sounding a bit apologetic and regretful for being forgetful. "Sorry about that, Blinks."
Grabbing a coffee stir stick and a tiny container of creamer meant for the coffees, Fizzler poured the contents of the liquid into Blinks' oil dish, swirling it around. Being milk, it didn't mix with the oil well at all, but Blinks seemed placated, as he started to lap at the concoction.
Nodding to herself at a job well done in her eyes, Fizzler stuck her fork into the pie and took a bite. The fruit was sweet and floral, with a jelly consistency. The frozen topping was smooth, almost with a grassy note. None of it was familiar in taste to her, but it was good.
Having absolutely nothing to focus on but the food, it was soon finished in moments flat, both from Fizzler and Blinks. Before Fizzler could react, the waitress had put a data pad on the table for payment. Fizzler quickly pored over the amount and pulled out her card again from her pouch, swiping it. As a receipt printed out of the pad, Fizzler tucked her card back into her pouch and pulled out some paper currency for a tip, placing it under the tablet and ripping the receipt out in swift motions to each other.
"Thank you." Fizzler said, still sounding a bit shy and uncomfortable, as her and Blinks stood up from the booth and left.
"Come again!" The waitress called out, sounding cheerful for the first time of the night.
As soon as the two travelers headed back to their room, Fizzler quickly dug into her duffel bag. Taking off the outfit she'd been wearing all day, she quickly changed into a light purple t-shirt like nightgown, a soft pair of purple and blue striped socks, and an (admittedly large) light blue sleep mask. Blinks curled up near an outlet, plugging his tail into it, as a soft white noise-like hum came out of his system.
"Night, Blinks." Fizzler said, as she put her duffel bag down onto the ground and then tucking herself into bed as well, shutting the light off on the nightstand. "We've got a big day tomorrow…"