Past Time - Quango System
Days had turned into weeks and the weeks had turned into months. At least it felt that way. Krystal had completely lost track of time. She had learnt from Falco about the vortexes around the artificial black hole created by Andross, and they had accelerated her little ship onto near light speed. But light speed was a snail's pace when it came to interstellar travel, even when considering the time dilation, and she wished she could have used that Orbital Gate to teleport herself.
For most part of the trip she had been confined to the seat in the cockpit. The stowaway area had been packed full of food, water and supplies. But the food had depleted, so she'd had to cut her rations in half, then in half again. At least she had been able to start sleeping in the stowaway and get a change of position. And she was drinking her own sweat and urine. The purifier turned it into perfectly clean water, but it was still equally disgusting to think about.
But worst of all was to sit in the seat and stare out into space for hours, days and weeks on end. The wonders of the brilliant stars, colourful nebulas and the band of pearls that was the arms of the galaxy had long ceased to entertain her the least. Everything looked the same. She was going insane. The G-diffusor was turned off to save energy, and the weightlessness sometimes blurred the edges between being awake and asleep. Was she even still alive or a lifeless spectator? She had come from nowhere, and wherever she had gone and whatever she had done, there had been destruction, despair and death. Her life was cursed. She was cursed. Now, there was a thought!
At last her target was approaching. The central star of the system she had picked out during her research, was actually starting to look brighter. But there was still a long way there, especially since she soon would have to reverse the ship and use up most of the G-diffusor's fuel to slow down. She was hoping and praying to whatever forces might once have been looking out for her, that her calculations had been correct, and that she wouldn't run out. What if the life support systems stopped and the ship froze to ice. Would she be circling that star like a comet with a glowing blue tail?
The Cloud Runner had spent the last few days orbiting the central star of the Quango system, as it was known as in the Lylat archives. It was travelling in the opposite direction to the planets, in an attempt to save fuel by using their gravitational pull to the ship slow. She was scanning frequencies, trying to pick up communications, but it was no use. She could distinguish between several different languages, but it was all gibberish to her. She needed to get in contact with people and to read their minds to learn it.
She triangulated the signals to try and find a good place to start. After a long time of searching, she found a strange place surrounded by gravity anomalies. It was as if a slice of a large moon had been cut off from the rest. The upper surface was a slightly rounded convex disc, while the underside was jagged as if ripped out of the ground. Still gravity worked on the surface, because her telescopes picked out ships landing and taking off from it, and the sensors could even detect an atmosphere. There were plenty of traffic of both ships and comms signals from structures on the, what should she call it, place?
She had to bite the bullet and go there. It seemed a likely place to find food and drink, maybe even something to make a living off. She descended slowly, entered the strange atmosphere and put the Cloud Runner down on something that could be best described as a gigantic parking lot. The sensors showed that the atmosphere while thin and a bit low on oxygen was quite breathable, so she opened the cockpit canopy and climbed down onto the ground, but not before removing some panels and pulling her most valuable possession of its secret hiding spot. She had kept the staff hidden both to keep it away from the Star Wolf team, as well as to try and move on from a previous life. But now she might need it, so she secured it on her back.
This is not good, she thought as she was standing on the ground on shaky legs. She had not realised how weak the extended trip in zero gravity had made her. Her joints were aching and her balance was off. Her sixth sense was overwhelmed by suddenly having so may other beings around her, and she was struggling to pick out who was thinking what. The strongest concentration and largest variation of emotions seemed to be coming from a low structure with a glassed roof some distance away. Gingerly she made her way there.
The glass doors slid open and she walked into a large room under that domed glass roof. There was a cacophony of laughter and anger, smells of strange foods in the air and people everywhere with drinks in their hands. In the middle was a huge circular counter lined with stools and several busy beings serving up food and drinks. Of all things, what she had walked into looked like a bar. Well, that should be a good place to start.
It was a rough place with rough patrons, most of them carrying guns openly, the rest probably concealed. Emotions and thoughts of desires, hatred, betrayal, and vengeance where swirling around, but that didn't really bother her either. It reminded her of the Sargasso Station run by Lord O'Donnell, and she had managed to find herself at home there with Star Wolf. In a place full of outcasts, there should be work and reward for a skilled mercenary like herself.
But something definitely felt off. While the Sargasso Station was full of the worst scum of the Lylat System, they were there because the station offered escape and relief, a place where even the most jaded criminal or hunted rebel could let their guard down just a little bit. But in this place there was no trace of any positive emotions.
And there was a nearly complete lack of women, save for the young girls in too scanty clothing who were running around serving drinks. At the Sargasso Station there had always been quite a few female rebel warriors, the odd space pirate queen, and heck, even Katt Monroe had swung by on occasion. As she slowly made her way towards the bar in the middle, few people took any notice of her, but she did not like the thoughts of those who did. It was like they saw her as an ... object? Suddenly one of those men stood in front of her.
"You're new here," he said, openly looking her curves over with satisfaction, but without admiration. "Looking for some fun?"
He reached out to touch her, which she sensed coming of course, so she flung out an arm to fend him off. But the strike was way to feeble and only annoyed him.
"I think we have a feisty one," he called out to everyone and no one in particular and gave her a push, which she was too weak and slow to brace for. It put her off balance and she fell to the floor, while laughter erupted around her. As the man closed in on her, she scrambled to her feet, whipped out her staff and extended it. The very tip of it touched the man's cheek, just piercing the skin and a drop of blood trickled out.
"That's enough, now you're mine!" he growled, so she spun the staff around and slammed the butt end down onto the floor. At least the staff worked as it should, sending out a strong quake and causing a confusion in which she could flee. She could hear the taunting calls behind her.
"That's right, come back when you've grown up."
So she had searched and found an arid, mountainous region on the nearest planet, and then a rocky outcrop under which she could hide her Cloud Runner. For days she had spent the time in the shade under the rock, practicing with her staff and trying to regain her strength. But it wasn't easy with a stomach that was constantly growling from the lack of food. At least she had found a tiny stream of drinkable water trickling down a hill nearby, but nothing to eat. It was pretty much a desert. Sometimes she could sense hungry animals nearby, predators, so she slept in the ship's stowaway area. But it was light sleep, constantly ready to turn on the force fields, which she had left off to save energy.
One day she made her way to the stream carrying a couple of rather odd purchases from Corneria. She had not planned to do it in these sort of surroundings, but it wasn't like she could be choosy. She wanted to forget her previous life, and not be reminded of who she had been, so she wet her hair in a pool of cold water and opened the tube of hair dye. She worked it in carefully for a long time, then rinsed off the excess and looked at her reflection in the water's surface. That's an improvement, she though, as swirls of violet dye drifted off in the stream.
Then she pulled out her staff, weighed it in one hand and worked its telescopic mechanism. Repeatedly extending it to its full combat length and then back to the compact carry length, she pondered what to do with it. It reminded her of her years in Lylat and that hurt. Yet she needed weapons and so far nothing had surpassed the staff. It had also been hers since before Lylat, even though she couldn't remember what that was. Looking at the can of matte black spray paint in her other hand, she decided to keep the staff and set to work.
That evening she heard noises and two hovercraft, each slightly smaller than her own ship, came flying through the canyon. Blaster shots flew back and forth as the craft circled each other, then one copped a direct hit and came down in a cloud of smoke and dust. At least one person had survived the crash and was slowly crawling away from the wreckage. The second hovercraft landed nearby and two men stepped out of it. One of them started rummaging through the crashed craft, while the other walked up to the helpless person on the ground, raised a blaster and fired.
She ducked down behind the rock she was spying from, hoping she hadn't been seen. She could sense thoughts like "found the gold" and "got what they deserved". After a few minutes the remaining hovercraft took off. She stayed there for a long time, trying to sense if anyone was around and if anyone was alive. But there was nothing, so she came out from behind the rock and jogged up to the wreckage. She looked at the dead person on the ground and saw the blaster wound straight in its back. It was a female feline. Who would do such a respect-less act, she thought. What sort of planet had she arrived on?
There had been precious little about this system in the Lylat archives, other than that there were multiple inhabited plants, and that there were other systems nearby. That made it seem like a place of possibilities, somewhere to make a new start. Now she wasn't so sure anymore. But she was critically low on fuel and supplies, so she had to make a start here, even if only to gather enough strength and resources so she could run away somewhere else. She was between a rock and a hard place, so she needed to harden up herself.
So she too started rummaging through the wreckage, looking for anything that might be of use to her. There were a handful of rations, a couple of unbroken containers of some hopefully drinkable liquid, and an undamaged blaster with some spare ammunition. Then she spotted some yellow, shiny circles of metal on the ground. They were decorated with symbols and vaguely reminded her of the jewellery of gold, that the Saurian tribes liked to wear and also sometimes traded with each other. Maybe these little golden discs could be traded too? She picked them up.
As she was leaving she stopped and looked at the corpse on the ground again. The dead woman seemed to be about her own age and size. Is this what's become of me, she thought, a scavenger? She started pulling the dead woman's black boots and leather pants off.
She had set down her Cloud Runner on exactly the same spot as last time on that moon slice, and was steeling her mind as she walked towards that domed glass roof. She was still weak, still hungry, but she couldn't let any emotions show. The bar might be full of the most despicable scum of this system, but she had taken on Aparoids, and they were much worse, weren't they? When surrounded by ruthless beings, she had to be even more so. With surprising ease she found herself slip back into her state of mind from the Anglar battles. She had a job to do, saving herself, and she stepped through the sliding glass doors.
Her senses were on full speed as she walked through the crowd towards that huge circular counter in the centre. She was dressed in the black leather boots and pants, complimented with a black leather top that was rather too small, but it would do for now, and black armbands over her Cerinian tattoos for good measure. With back held straight, a blaster on her hip, and a scowling face framed by hair a violent shade of violet, she got a slightly different reception this time. There were mostly emotions of indifference and ill intent, but she also picked up a desire, lust, and even a hint of apprehension. Completely devoid of emotions herself, the cruel criminals in the bar became just number, kill marks.
This time she also paid a bit more attention to the looks of the people in the bar. There were the usual suspects of course, felines, canines, avians, reptilians and so on. But there were also other species she'd never seen before, including the people serving in the bar, and the tall, older man who was on the other side of the counter when she got there. He had an elongated face, long ears that kept turning this way and that, grey fur that was going a bit white on his muzzle, and rather short arms which were handling glasses and bottles with impressive speed. He seemed to be the one in charge.
"G'day, Darl, welcome to the Primordial Pub," he greeted her. "What can I get ya?"
Here goes nothing she thought, put a couple of those golden discs on the counter, and tapped into his mind.
"Yeah, that'll buy you a drink. What do you like?" He hid his surprise well, but of course she could feel his interest. Those things were more valuable that she'd though. She took them off the counter again.
"And a good meal," he continued. She just glared at him. He studied the blue vixens slightly sunken in face and tawny arms. "You're new here I guess. Looks like you haven't had a good feed in a while. How about five of those gold guineas for two weeks worth of supplies as well?"
She could sense that he was still ripping her off, but not out of malice, just in need of revenue. It was a start, so she accepted by a nod. Then a man appeared next to her and slammed is glass down on the counter. He was dressed in pilot jacket and mirror shades, and she recognised him from her first visit to the bar.
"Did you think that masquerade would fool me?" he snarled and pointed to a small fresh scar on his cheek. "You gave me this and you're gonna pay for it!"
She reached for a bottle on the counter and he lunged to grab it first, falling straight into the trap. He completely failed to anticipate the boot which connected heavily with his groin. It was a cheap shot, but she was still weak and had to improvise. Groaning the man collapsed on the floor, clasping his crushed bits and pieces.
"Want some salted nuts with your drink?" chirped the barman, drawing some laughter of schadenfreude from the nearby crowd. But then the pilot pulled a knife and stood up on his knees, only to find himself staring down the barrel of a blaster.
"Grown up!" exclaimed the blue vixen holding the gun.
In one leap the bartender flew into the air and landed on the counter with a booming noise.
"No drawn weapons in my pub!" he shouted and leaned over them, standing on his long legs and keeping his balance using his massive tail. The vixen looked at the bartended in amazement. She'd never seen a kangaroo before.
"What's it to you ... pouch?" said the pilot, practically spitting out the last word. From the flicker of a flame in the bartender's eyes and a flash of hatred from his thoughts, the vixen could tall that it was derogatory, a nasty taunt.
"Get outta here before I kick you into orbit," growled the bartender. He probably could, telling from the size of those leg muscles, thought the vixen.
"What about the b-tch?"
"The lady has paid for a meal, so she's gonna get a meal. You can sort out yer differences later for all I care."
"I'll see you outside!" snarled the pilot, pointed a finger at the vixen and then gingerly walked away.
"Outside! Later!" she growled after him.
"That's a part of this job I don't need," said the bartender and jumped back down behind the counter. "Watch out for Looper. He's trouble that pilot. Anyway, my name is Bruce. What's yours?"
She offered no reply.
"Fair enough, none of my business," continued Bruce. "Being incognito is smart, as is keeping a low profile in this system, especially on planet Kew. Now, there's a room out the back with extra security where you can eat your tucker in peace."
She sat by herself in a booth in a secluded part of the bar, inspecting the contents on the plate and prodding it with a fork. The barman had come true on his promises with a large meal of bland boiled vegetables and some meat, which she didn't recognise. Was it 'tucker' meat, or was 'tucker' the dish itself? The kangaroo had strange thought patters. She decided she preferred not knowing what that meat was. Still, she hadn't eaten properly in ages, so every calorie was vital, and under the table there were also two large bags full of canned food, dried rations and a medical emergency kit. She continued devouring the food, whatever it was.
But there was also something else. There was a presence closing in, someone she had also sensed out in the bar previously, but not paid any attention to. She reached down, grabbed the blaster out of its holster, flicked the safety off and put it and the hand holding it in her lap under the table.
To her surprise a woman appeared at the table. She was definitely vulpine, but different from her counterparts in Lylat. She was shorter, her face was a bit rounder, the ears smaller and rounder too, and she had a magnificent head of fluffy, snow white hair. Her body was quite voluptuous as well, and she was wearing a tightly fitting leotard and leggings under a long jacket. Surely that wouldn't be an appropriate outfit in a place so filled with brutes as this bar?
"Do you mind if I sit down?" the woman asked. They seemed to be about the same age.
She didn't know what to reply, so she just shrugged, since that seemed to be a universal gesture.
"My name is Hope," said the woman and sat down. "I haven't seen you here before. Have you arrived recently?"
She scanned Hope's thoughts, but found no malice, only nervousness. She nodded in reply.
"Where are you from, if I don't mind asking?"
She just shrugged again.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Can you talk?"
She nodded.
"Ah, I get it, you haven't learned the language yet, right?" Nod.
"Ok, that makes it a bit tricky, I guess. But you understand it?" Nod. It would be easier if she peered a bit deeper into the blond vixen's thoughts. Hope was twirling her hair absentmindedly, and a large white tuft came out, which she quickly tried to hide under the table.
Damned moulting! Why does today have to be a bad hair day?
Hope lowered her gaze, and the blue vixen wondered if the snow fox was hungry, so she pushed her plate forward.
"Nah, thanks, I'm good!" said Hope, and then she realised that Hope had been looking somewhere in between the plate and her own face, about chest height. She could sense attraction. She decided to tease a bit, leaned back against the backrest and puffed out her chest a little bit, like she'd done with Fox many time. Hope's eyes widened, but when she met the blue vixens gaze, Hope quickly looked away and blushed.
Smooth. I bet she caught me staring.
Ok, that was a first for the blue vixen, but still, no big deal.
"What brings you here?" inquired Hope but immediately regretted the question.
Dumb, Hope! Stick to yes and no questions.
She searched her mind for the few words she'd learned so far and replied:
"Need job!"
"Ok, that makes sense. What do you do? I'm a pleasure dancer. Do you like entertaining men?" Hope continued. What the? She had a good look into Hope's mind, and saw what she let men see, and what they sometimes did to her. What sort of dancing was that? Here eyes narrowed as the anger welled up.
"Sorry, I've offended you," said Hope and quickly rose to her feet.
Good one! You met someone gorgeous and then just blew it properly right away, didn't you Hope?
But it wasn't Hope's fault of course, she thought, that men wanted to see her strip. She decided she hated men, including Panther and most of all Fox. She beckoned Hope to sit down again. There was a pretty long and awkward silence. She had a few more mouthfuls while Hope was pondering.
"So, what are you good at?"
She racked her brain again, trying to recall words.
"Pilot. Weapons!"
Hope gasped, but her thoughts didn't just show fear, but admiration too.
Keep it together, Hope! Someone like her would be really good to have around.
"I know someone who might need your skills," said Hope. "He's called The Merchant. Maybe I could introduce you?"
Sure, and maybe it could be of mutual benefit. She sensed that Hope wanted someone to protect her in this harsh place, and in return Hope could teach the language and ways of the system. That could work out, as long as she didn't get emotionally involved. She had been hurt enough that way already. She nodded.
"Ok, I know a back way we can get out unnoticed, because I'm sure that Looper is waiting out the front," said he snow fox. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name."
The vixen with the violet hair was silent for a moment, contemplating.
"Kursed!"
