Written for QLFC: Season 8, Semi Finals

Team: Kenmare Kestrels (Captain)

Prompt: Science Fiction - Space Western

Warnings: Hints of murder and character death. Nothing explicit.

Word count (excluding AN): 1687

Note: Westerns are for Chaco. Anyone who disagrees can fight me on it. Also, Finding Something New To Love was my last Chaco fic. It was also a Western. You do not need to read it to read this.

All He Needed (aka Finding Something New To Love, reimagined)

Draco didn't quite understand how all of it happened. Really, all he had wanted was to escape from the pressures of being Earthborn nobility. Everything was decided for him—the clothes he wore, the women he dated, the business deals he made, the food he ate. It was soul-crushing and exhausting to not have an ounce of freedom.

So, on the eve of his twenty-first birthday, Draco snuck into his father's shipyard and borrowed the most understated ship he could find. It was small—built for one pilot and one passenger—made with old metals and an outdated comm system, but it was pressure sealed and had Apparating capabilities.

That was all Draco needed.

…

Draco cursed as two lights lit up on his dashboard. The first was a dark orange, steady as starlight. It told Draco that the fuel tank was less than an eighth of the way full.

The second was a flashing blue, commanding Draco's attention. He had only Apparated once, as soon as he had made it past Earth's Solar System, but apparently that had been enough to drain the D-Class crystal. Not only could he not Apparate again until the crystal was replaced, his shields would be offline too.

Draco didn't want to venture any farther into the Space Frontier without his Apparating capabilities and his shields. That was a sure way to become stardust, and even his sheltered self knew it.

He needed to land, and he needed to do it soon. Chewing anxiously on his lip, he pulled up a hologram map of his surrounding area. He hadn't paid much attention to where he Apparated to, his main goal having been just to get away from Earth, but he was relieved to see he had jumped to the outskirts of another Star System.

…

Star System Knockturn revolved around a red giant dubbed Knockturn-rg497dsS10. Only one planet was properly habitable. Burke. Draco wasn't fond of the planet's name, but that really was the least of his concerns.

Calling Burke "habitable" was like calling a lion "kitty." As Draco stepped from his small ship, he nearly hurled. Gas seeped from the planet's surface, wafting and soiling everything it touched. Dust swirled around Draco's feet, black and sticky. Draco thought it was tar at first, but tar didn't interact with a light breeze. The red giant sat low along the horizon, putting a red filter on everything its light touched.

As soon as he managed to compose himself, and after he grabbed a small pistol-blaster from the ship's pathetic armory, Draco set off to the nearest town. He kept his eyes on the ground and his mouth and nose covered with his shirt, still nauseated by the gas. By his calculations, he would reach the town in half an hour.

…

"Yeah, mate. You don't want to go that way," said a man to Draco's right. The blond nearly screamed, jumping to the side and pulling his pistol-blaster. He hadn't heard the man approaching him.

Of course he hadn't heard the man. He was on a glider-bike, one that had obviously been modified to be silent. It hovered only a few inches of the ground, black and sleek. The man also wore all black—trousers, shirt, jacket, gloves, boots, bandana, goggles, and hood. The only color that seemed to be on the man was the deep orange wisps of hair that escaped his hood.

Draco couldn't see his features with his face so covered, but he had a feeling the man was smirking. He didn't make a move to attack, so Draco slowly lowered his pistol-blaster.

"Why not?" Draco asked, eyeing the man carefully.

The man turned his glider-bike off, swinging his leg over to sit sideways on his seat and face Draco properly. "That leads to the town of Borgin. Nasty place full of nasty people. A pretty boy like you wouldn't last two minutes in Borgin."

"Excuse me?" Draco hissed, suppressing the urge to raise his pistol-blaster again. "I can handle myself."

The man laughed and pushed his hood back, revealing a messy ponytail. He also adjusted his goggles so they sat on his forehead and pulled down his bandana so it hung loosely around his neck. His eyes were a warm brown. "Please," he said, shaking his head. "You look Earthborn. Earthborn and on your first little space adventure. Let me guess… you ran away from your noble home?"

Draco sputtered indignantly, though he couldn't deny what the man said. His lack of response earned him another laugh.

"They call me Red. C'mon, get on behind me. I'll take you to Borgin," Red said, a lopsided grin sliding onto his chapped lips. Knowing he probably shouldn't, Draco did as Red said and joined him on the glider-bike.

…

The ride to Borgin was far more pleasant than walking had been. The wind was annoying to deal with, and the dust was thick, but at least Draco could hide behind Red with his eyes shut while he focused on covering his mouth and nose.

Before long, they coasted to a stop and Red let out a low hum. "Right. What supplies are you running so low on that you had to stop at this cesspool of a planet?" he asked, twisting his spine to face Draco.

"Ah, fuel and a D-Class crystal," Draco replied, letting go of his shirt so it dropped and settled properly against his chest. He was chewing on his lower lip again, and that seemed to bother Red—the man reached out with a gloved hand and tugged the lip from Draco's teeth.

Then Red hopped off the bike and let out an easy laugh. "Easy enough. Stay here, I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

Draco frowned, shaking his head. "Shouldn't I come so I can pay?"

"Sweetheart," Red cut in with a grin. "I never pay for anything."

…

Draco paced around the glider-bike nervously, absently spinning the old family ring on his finger. He hadn't known what to say to Red when the man had blatantly told Draco he was a bandit, so he had just let him go, promising to stay with the glider-bike.

Just over fifteen minutes after he had left, Red returned with a large tank slung over his shoulder, a purple crystal in his hand, and a satisfied grin on his face. Wordlessly, he began attaching the tank to the back of the glider-bike.

Then he turned his grin to Draco. "Where's your ship at?" he asked.

Draco pointed him in the right direction.

…

"Why?" Draco asked as Red helped him deposit the fuel into the ship's tank.

Red hummed, turning his attention to Draco. "I'll need a little more than that to give you a proper answer, sweetheart."

Draco felt his cheeks warming, and he glanced away. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because you're pretty," Red said after a moment, looking back at the fuel tank. Draco knew there must have been more to his reasoning, but Red didn't elaborate any further.

Draco didn't press him.

…

"Can I ask you another question?" Draco's voice was a little timid. He blamed it on being tired. They were replacing the crystal, now. The old one had split in half, it's color now dull.

"Shoot," Red replied.

Draco took a slow breath. "Why do you live here?"

Red was quiet for a moment. The easy air that had previously been around him now was heavy and thick. The corners of his mouth turned down. "My sister and I crash landed here about a year ago. We were rebuilding our ship, but when she died I gave up on it and turned it into that," he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of his glider-bike.

Draco was quiet, though he was itching to know more. For some reason, Draco wanted to know everything he could about Red.

"You want to know what happened," Red said with a slight smile, though it quickly dropped. "I'll give you the short story. Pretty people don't last in the town of Borgin."

…

"My real name is Charlie," Red… Charlie… said absently as they worked side by side. The bandit had convinced Draco that the ship needed a tune-up. Draco, as he seemed ready to do when Charlie was involved, had agreed.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Yet they call you Red?" he asked.

"S'not a good story. I earned that name because of what I did to the men that took my sister from me," he said, his eyes dark.

Yet, somehow, Draco couldn't bring himself to be afraid of the man. Instead, he nodded and continued to work alongside him.

Charlie didn't seem to be done speaking. "I haven't cared to have anyone know me in a long time."

"And what makes me different?" Draco asked, glancing at Charlie.

The man smiled. "You're pretty," he said. Draco knew there was more to it than that, but instead of pressing Charlie further, he simply chuckled softly and nodded.

"Well, it's good to know you, Charlie."

…

They stood outside Draco's ship. The red giant sun perpetually shone from just above the horizon. Draco wondered if it ever dipped below and cast this part of the planet in darkness.

"If you had the chance, would you leave?" Draco asked.

Charlie didn't hesitate. "Yes."

…

Draco didn't quite understand how all of it happened. Really, all he had wanted was to escape from the pressures of being Earthborn nobility, where everything was decided for him. But now, the day after his twenty-first birthday, Draco was flying through space, what some call the final frontier, with a man named Charlie sitting in his passenger seat.

"Don't expect me to stop being a bandit just because I'm flying with you," Charlie said, leaning his elbows on the armrest of Draco's seat. He looked so eager, his warm eyes alight with life and the promise of excitement.

Draco found himself laughing. "Maybe you could teach me a few things?" He asked, and Charlie's expression seemed to brighten further.

The smile that Charlie gave him as he nodded in agreement was all that Draco needed.