At long last, an update! Sadly I can't promise scheduled updates from here on out, but they'll be regular enough, all the way to the end.
Many thanks to Cant_Catch_Rabbit for the awesome beta-reading!
The trip to Fukase's clinic had been absolute agony. Forget the fact that the good doctor was literally baking her bones so that they would set exactly how they needed to. Forget that they were literally directing the shards of her skull back into place with needles as they set. Forget the metal arms piercing her swollen skin, the drugs still making her lose half of her damn mind, the continuing physical torture, the nonstop medication and bandages. Forget all that. The moment she had decided that she had to get moving and do something, anything, she was absolutely buzzing with a burning, searing need to get the hell off Terranova.
Miku was out there.
Luka had no idea if she was even still in one piece.
But she would be damned if she didn't find out.
While she was at the doctor's, Meiko and the twins bought her a new mattress, which they then brought to Ruko. It was the perfect opportunity for introductions, but Luka had been sore and semi-delusional, and her ship kept the conversation to the minimum. That evening, she demonstrated that she could apply her medication and change her bandage without any assistance, powering through the pain with pure force of will.
The next morning, after a brief breakfast with the whole family, she raced to the port and departed as soon as she could. She had full fuel cells, enough provisions for ages, her filters were all good, and she had just enough money in her pocket to feel better.
All Meiko asked for in return was that she come home with news as soon as she could. It was obvious that the woman had a billion other things on the tip of her tongue, her concerns ranging from Luka's addiction to her injuries to Miku's safety to how the hell her daughter was even going to find her.
Meiko's silence on all that screamed of trust that Luka could barely wrap her head around.
No matter her determination, though, rescuing Miku was going to take a while. First things first: she needed information. She had tried to find something, anything, about the android back on Terranova, but it was generally common knowledge that the black market part of the internet simply didn't make it into the local intranet of residential planets. So she took a rotation to fly straight towards the nearest information relay she could find.
Information relays were, generally, used for military purposes. There were whispers that they could communicate information instantaneously, contributing to the integrity of ID assignment, while others swore that each contained a complete copy of the entire galaxy-wide internet. Luka didn't know what was true. All she really knew was that if she needed good, up-to-date information about anything, she had to go to an information relay.
Since they were for military purposes however, civilians, tourists, and illegal lowlifes like herself were not allowed to access them. Whatever broadcasting methods and technology they used were closely guarded and very, very illegal to own. Of course, people could try to land on them if they found them, but the huge towers, shaped like dumbbells, rotated in every which way in order to make approach and landing difficult. There was also the fact that they roamed somewhat randomly around some non-disclosed structure that was so small (rumor had it that it is the size of a fist) that it was virtually invisible in the vast emptiness of space. While the range of a single tower around this fixed point never went outside of a quarter of a sector, considering that a single sector could safely contain multiple solar systems, it was a vast amount of space to cover and search. Even if the tower could be theoretically located and approached, landing could be further discouraged with magnetic fields and material that flaked away at the touch. Some were even accompanied by weaponized drones.
Luka had far too much practice with relays for any of that to be of concern. Plus, she had a rare friend at her side: certainly her most illegal piece of tech, reserved for military ships of the highest grade, which constantly pointed her in the direction of the nearest relay. It was unobtrusive, almost unimpressive for what it was, a mere little box with a screen and a few buttons. When she'd bought it, she hadn't even known what she was putting her hands on. Once she'd figured it out, she knew that the one who'd sold it to her had no idea what he'd had. But obtaining it had certainly been a turning point in her career.
Essentially, it was one of her most valuable possessions.
Once the tower was in sight, all that she had to do was land. She had trained Ruko so that they could calculate the ideal approach to the spinning towers. Even as it flipped and spun, in yaw and pitch and roll, Luka merely had to buckle in and the ship would do the rest. It might take a few tries, since the movement of the tower could change without warning, its boosters coming to life with violent energy, but that time, things went without a hitch.
Landing on the thing, her ship like a tick on the side of a huge beast, was still a bit tricky. The tower was just dark enough to blend into the starry backdrop of space, but just bright enough so that, once close, any ship near it would stand out like an actor in a spotlight. There always was a best place to land, where there weren't so many lights, though if any military ship were to pass by, odds were fair that they would be spotted and shot on sight. Even with that ever-present danger, it was worth the risk. The ideal spot was located, and Ruko landed there without difficulty.
All those security measures, and for what? Luka was sure that these things contained valuable, sensitive information, but she didn't care about that. She was sure she could make a fortune by retrieving and selling whatever information she could steal, but she refused to tell a single soul that she had the ability to locate these towers. The machine was extraordinarily rare and was the main key to her relative success as a solitary scavenger. It single-handedly kept her away from pirate crews and gangs of all kinds. If word got out, it would sign her death warrant, so she kept her visits infrequent, and the front panel of the device carefully hidden, and disguised. It was far more valuable to keep it secret.
Either way, scrap metal or treasure, political secrets or technological marvels, she just wanted to know one thing: where was Miku?
Ruko latched onto the paneling of the tower with little to no effort, testing the surface with the ground testers for good measure. Luka donned her space suit and stepped into the void of space for the first time in a number of cycles, tethered to Ruko with a thick cable, so she could manually pry open a panel and plug Ruko in.
This kind of backdoor access meant that their trip wouldn't be logged. However, it also meant that they couldn't request information. They were merely feeding on the bloodstream of the internet as it ran through the tower. Military ships with the proper interfacing equipment could get whatever information they wanted on demand, from a distance, while Luka had to land and wait and see what information flew by.
It always gave her something, though. Once plugged in, she returned to the ship, shed the suit, sat at the control panel, pulled up the windshield widescreen, and waited.
"Filtering all messages and posts in relation to Miku, humanoid androids, rare AI, high-profile auctions, and the Shion family," Ruko summed up.
"Good," Luka muttered, trying to get comfortable in her seat. The sling she had put back on only reminded her of the oily feel of all the creams she had applied and worsened the haphazard application of her bandage. "While we're here, try to pick up things on nearby wrecks, accidents, and unmanned shipments. While I have some pocket money, it's not nearly enough to attend a Shion-grade auction, if they host one."
"If it is not an auction, what will be your plan?"
"I'll... I'll probably kidnap her from her buyer," Luka muttered. "Once she's out of the Shion's hands, then it's not their problem anymore."
"Understood."
The scavenger frowned, trying to focus on the blips of information as they popped up. There were highlighted paragraphs from websites, excerpts from private messages, social media posts, forum discussions, headlines, clips, anything and everything. A maelstrom of data. She couldn't work with all her aches and bruises, but she couldn't work while drug-addled, either. Even going back to the regular strength painkillers had barely helped; whatever they had given her for her bones made her so high, she was convinced they might be addicting, as well. She tried to find the delicate balance between the two, working right after taking the pills, before they kicked in, and in those delicate hours as the effect started wearing off, but before the pain returned with a vengeance.
She was in the latter, feeling her skull start to throb, her abdomen ache.
She must have made a face; Ruko suddenly said, "I recommend taking your medication and getting some sleep. I will keep an eye out and will inform you once any relevant information comes in."
"Right. Ok."
Luka obeyed, popping the pills, smearing the cream, and applying the new bandage. Three times per day, all three of these things needed doing. And she stuck to it. She couldn't deny that she was recovering more quickly than she would have anticipated; the bruising had lessened, and while her old bullet wound was still healing, it wasn't nearly so tender.
She had yet to look at her face, though. Meiko had smiled at her when she had walked out of the clinic, noting that she did look better, even if most of the swelling was still there.
While she waited for the medication to kick in, Luka reviewed her equipment status: her gun, fully functional; her space suit, all repairs complete. She knew that to have the slightest chance of buying Miku, she would have to strike gold again. There was no way she'd stumble upon a second freighter of Galdyssian spice, not for a thousand years. She would have to pick her targets quickly, wisely, and make as much money as fast as possible. Meiko's pocket money would help cover the costs to get her to the nearest port to make her first sales, at least.
Assuming she even had anything to sell in the first place.
She was so far behind.
As she slept, strapped in and drugged, Ruko searched. Meanwhile, the tower beneath them spun and twirled. Luka would, within the next rotation or two, start feeling sick from it, though the structure was just big enough that, as long as its pattern didn't change, she could barely feel it. If its momentum was conserved, it would be ok.
Ruko would warn her if it would change. Or if they found anything.
She slept in the meantime. The passing of time was only tolerable if she couldn't keep track of the seconds as they ticked by.
Anything could be happening to Miku while she waited, slept, searched.
Every second counted.
A loud beep from the ship roused her.
"The tower is changing direction," Ruko warned, urgency in their artificial voice. "I recommend—"
The rest of their sentence was drowned out by the thunderous noise of the tower's thrusters as they engaged. The lurch was violent, and the light from the exhaust flames, only a stone's toss from the nose of the ship, was so bright it was blinding. Luka hung onto the straps of her bed, let the noise deafen her, the light blind her. Sure, there was no sound in space, but it made the tower shake, and the ship shook along, making her entire existence rattle and roar.
She screamed in pain as the straps pinned her to the bed. Objects throughout the ship, from tools on her workbench to her suit she had flung over the chair, were caught in a battle between the ship's artificial gravity and the changing momentum of the tower. Things flew by, suspended in air, colliding with each other.
For several minutes, the tower shifted directions back and forth, sending every loose object flying through the cabin. Finally, the boosters shut off, and silence returned. Once the ship's movements stabilized, Luka could breathe again.
She was shaking like a leaf, fists tight around the straps.
"Are you hurt?" Ruko asked.
"Like hell," Luka spat. "Fuck."
"If it is any comfort, I have information."
"What about?"
"Miku."
Still trembling and breathless, Luka immediately stood and staggered to the pilot's seat. Agony and adrenaline were one way to shake off her drug-induced sleep and euphoria. "Tell me."
"The Shion have long scheduled a yearly great familial auction," Ruko informed her. "A cycle ago, they had announced an exciting new addition to the collection. They state that it is technological in nature, extremely valuable, and exceedingly rare. One-of-a-kind in fact."
"That's got to be Miku."
"While they do use such descriptions on many of their goods in order to entice buyers, dishonesty would be punished. I am 93% sure this is Miku they are talking about."
"When is their auction?"
"We have one month."
Luka almost fell apart in relief. "Oh thank the stars. Where is it?"
"The auction will be hosted, like every year, at the Shion's private estate."
"It's not at the Sapphire Shores?"
"No. It is an independent space-roaming habitat."
Luka considered that carefully, still grinning. She blamed the medication. "You think I'm banned from there, too?"
"There is one way to find out."
"How?"
"There is a buy-in. It is done in person, with a physical ID, which is not logged for privacy concerns."
"What's the buy-in?"
"It is substantial."
"Is it possible?"
"Quite. However, we will need to be lucky. I give us a 30% chance of finding the necessary funds on time."
Luka nodded. "I like those odds."
"If we hope to actively purchase her at the auction, then our odds of overall success dwindle," Ruko reminded her. "The buy-in is steep. The crowd will be well off."
"I don't care. I'm going."
"Understood. Redirecting my search fully towards potential targets."
"Do that."
"Shall I prioritize proximity, ease of access, or value?"
"Ease of access, then proximity. I can't exactly afford to be picky right now."
"Understood."
Luka stretched, then clicked on the police scanner and directed Ruko to feed the audio into her implant. After that, she laid back down in bed, strapped down in case the tower decided to change direction again.
She listened, Ruko searched.
Just like the good old days.
Getting back into the habit of things had been surprisingly easy. Luka figured that the pain of having her retirement plans derailed would make going back to work intolerable. Instead, going through the motions was surprisingly mindless. Add the fact that she had to take her medications regularly, and she was in a more settled routine than ever; she would wake up, eat, follow the doctor's orders, spend an hour or two with the therapy AI, then work until lunch. Then she would do the same, sans the shrink hour, working until dinner, after which she would round the day off with the AI and go straight to bed. Her working hours found her checking her equipment, fixing the paneling of her ship, listening to the scanner, scouring the news articles, trying to find information on trade routes, anything that would help.
After Ruko found a potential target, they left the relay behind. They found one wreck, assaulted by pirates. The escape pods had been activated and most valuable things had clearly been taken. Ruko latched onto the bulk of the remains while Luka sifted through the metal, picking up the larger sheets, some communications tech that had been left behind.
After that, she caught wind of a skirmish thanks to the police scanner. The message was outbound, so she felt confident swooping in and landing nearby. The local settlement, a small one, had been razed to the ground. Why? She didn't know. After making sure that most, if not all, hostiles had left, she entered the bigger buildings and walked away with a dozen physical IDs, a few bags of jewelry, several pieces of measuring equipment, some drugs that were oh-so-tantalizing, medical supplies, raw chemicals, and three ingots of super heat-resistant material.
When she went in for a second trip, the pirates had descended. She got out as quickly as she could manage and escaped with no issue other than her heart in her throat.
That was when they made a stop at one of those terrible, scummy criminal space hubs. A free-floating pile of junk, barely holding together, the entire dock shook when Ruko landed. Luka kept her gun armed and at the ready, her hood pulled over her head. After walking through the city, keeping her back against the walls and her eyes on all those who walked past her, she found a good corner. Whenever somebody passed by, she'd offer the scrap metal, jewels, chemicals, IDs. She made a bit of money. The next rotation, she went to the markets, bartered with a few of the merchants there, anxiety and fear infused in the air. A pirate overheard her conversation, bought the measuring and communication equipment and the IDs for quite the sum. She traded the larger metal sheets to some guy who was desperately trying to obtain some of the right size in exchange for another ID, one that he assured her was real and that almost looked like her. Luka didn't ask where it came from.
As they traveled, Ruko kept track of how much time they would need to reach the estate. They would need an entire cycle at some point, provided they didn't travel further away, giving them only a cycle left to make more money. Luka needed to buy fuel cells as she went, dipping into Meiko's pocket money. She still had provisions, her filters were holding up, but if she wanted to access the auction, then they needed more, much more.
While Ruko kept an ear on all the possible channels, Luka did what she could. When she wasn't actively making, fixing, finding, or searching, she was clinging to those daily therapy hours; from adapted meditations to tedious thought experiments to flowcharts, she did all she could to lessen the chill of the nightmares and the weight of the craving. While part of her knew she wouldn't be able to right herself all the way in time, she had to prepare as much as possible for the next confrontation. Seizing up at the sound of a laser blast would only get her killed. Despite her best intentions, progress was slow; she could devote only so much time to healing. Miku was still out there.
Luka pored over a galactic map, trying to figure out if any precious, unmanned cargo would be passing through their area. She was even willing to consider hitting space busses or pulling a quick hold-up on a politician, but she knew there was a reason she never did those kinds of jobs: she had no crew and such a stunt would most likely get her killed. Plus, the mere thought of any kind of interaction like that scared her shitless. She never stole from living, conscious people who could fight back.
She didn't want to think that she was heading back towards the Shion. She knew that, even though her assailants hadn't specified it, she was certainly banned from the estate as well. Getting anywhere close to an established Shion hangout would certainly sign her death warrant. She would need a disguise, a real one, if she didn't want to just approach the location of the auction, but to leave it alive.
She couldn't think about it for too long. Her resolve would waver, she'd start to think about why exactly she was doing all this for Miku. Rationally, she knew that the android could take care of herself. She could be disabled with a taser, sure, but fool her once, shame on her. She would learn, adapt. Chances were that she had made a bloodbath of the estate by then. Maybe she was already far away, free as a bird. Maybe she was looking for Luka. Maybe she was already back at Terranova.
But there was no way to be sure unless Luka went into the lion's den herself. She had to put her neck on the line, looking for richer and more well-guarded targets just to buy the right to head into a building where anybody there might shoot her on sight.
It was insane. But she forced herself not to think about it, because she had to go through with it.
She had to.
"It looks like we're close to a trade route," she muttered to Ruko, looking at the map. "Mostly fruit, looks like it."
"We could attempt to ambush a shipment," Ruko suggested. "Fruit is worthless per unit, but a fresh supply would be most welcome in some places. It could be very valuable to the right population."
"How safe would that be?"
"Fruit is automatically shipped. Unless the specimen is rare and valuable, there won't even be anything beyond automated security."
She frowned: that was already more than she wanted to confront. It wouldn't be overly risky, though. After all those cycles, she had finally shed her sling once and for all. Her fingers had healed. Her mobility was nearly completely restored, save for the odd stretch. She no longer had to apply creams or take painkillers. Her skull didn't throb as much. She was over the worst part of the withdrawal. And if she got a little more speaking practice in, she might eventually get used to her reshaped tongue. Only her brow and cheekbone remained somewhat swollen and angry. At that point, she figured she could probably force someone to give her their money, maybe wrestle with some turrets. She could point a gun and no longer depended on drugs that tore at her mind.
"Okay. Do you know when the shipment will fly by?"
"I can only approximate the flight path using your map and make an educated guess in regard to when they will be nearby," Ruko explained.
"Do we know what kind of tech they use?"
"Only generally. If any updates have happened or if the supplier has cut corners with dated technology, that can drastically reduce the accuracy of my calculations."
She hummed. "What do you think our odds are of catching a shipment?"
"Currently? I give us roughly 23%"
Luka didn't hesitate: "That's almost one out of four. Let's do it. Bring us in and set up the ambush."
The ship roared to life as it used its interplanetary boosters to zero in on the estimated flight path. Intercepting and stopping ships that were going faster than the speed of light was almost impossible, but the odds were fair that, should they be close enough to their path, they would trigger the automated anti-collision technology on board. Then the shipment would stop on its own and they would tackle the automated security.
If they could get that far.
Luka grumbled, suiting up and arming her gun.
"How long until you think the shipment might fly by?"
"Using our old logs on Revien exports, we can expect a shipment to approach between twenty minutes and two hours from now."
Her good brow raised. "That's a small window."
"I submit that we cannot afford to wait much longer. If we fail to stop this shipment, we will not know for sure when to expect the next one. It seemed logical that, once the odds of it approaching are lower than ten percent, we must move on to other goals. Do you disagree?"
"No, that's good. We'll wait two hours, no more."
"Very well."
Luka could only wait nervously for the truckload of fruit to arrive, popping out of interstellar flight mere kilometers from her ship. Once that happened, she would have to tangle with whatever automated security systems might be on board, which could range from simple cameras to blaster turrets. She really didn't want to have to deal with turrets. But she would if she had to.
She felt the weight of her gun in her hand, felt that the safety was on and the spent charges had been ejected. Still, she kept the muzzle pointed downward. It was a weapon, after all. One she was ready to use, more than ever before.
The pressure was on. She had no time to lose. She had to get to the auction, if it meant being penniless once again. If she had any friends at all, she would have gone into debt to them.
She would do anything to see Miku again.
"Luka?"
"What."
"If we are going to retrieve Miku, perhaps we may have to divert some attention towards reacquiring a Dexter," Ruko said.
"We don't have time or money for that. Every cent counts. We still don't have enough for the buy-in."
"If we have the opportunity, I recommend it," the AI said. "If Miku is to return, even briefly, then it would assist in keeping the peace between you."
Luka blinked, frowned up at the windshield. "Even briefly? What do you mean?"
"I understand that you are hoping to be sure of her safety. Once that is done, you will return to your initial plan of parting ways, but on your terms this time. Or am I mistaken?"
The woman hesitated. "Maybe?"
"Has that plan changed?"
Luka didn't reply, sagging into her chair.
She had no idea how to feel about letting Miku go. That had been their plan. They had agreed that it would be best to part ways once Luka no longer needed her presence to feel safe.
Strangely, that hadn't come to mind at all.
Luka swore.
"Is something the matter?"
"I don't— You can't tell her this."
"Understood."
"I don't want her to go," Luka admitted. "I get that I can't make her stay. She's autonomous and will only stay if she wants to. But I want her to stay. Is… Is that bad?"
"You have never spent so much time with someone, since our first departure together from Terranova," Ruko pointed out. "She is your most long-standing companion."
"But we can only barely tolerate each other!" Luka growled. "Rather, I can only barely tolerate her! We depend on a stuffed animal to keep the peace, for crying out loud."
"That is already more than what you have with anybody else."
"But..." She trailed off. "It's unfair to her. Just because she's the best company I've ever had doesn't mean I get to keep her from seeking better company elsewhere."
"She loves you. She would stay with you if given the option."
"I don't love her, though," the scavenger shot back. "And that makes it twice as unfair."
"That may be true," Ruko conceded after some thought. "However, you wish for her to stay, and I have reason to believe that she would agree to that idea. It would not be a bad idea to suggest that to her."
Luka sat back down, a sad frown on her face. "What if she wants to go, though? Now that I don't need her to feel safe?"
"Then she will leave."
Luka stared at the vacuum of space. "And then what?"
"We will return to our original plan: we will install infrastructure on your new planet so you may retire there one day." Ruko hesitated when Luka didn't reply. "Am I mistaken?"
"It... It sounds lonely, I guess."
Ruko thought for a while. "I am sure you can secure companionship when you need it. This would also not deviate from the way we have operated thus far."
She didn't reply.
"Shall I put a Dexter on our shopping list, then?"
Luka thought about it for a moment. "No."
"Understood." Then, after a moment, Ruko stated, "You appear troubled."
"I am," she quietly admitted.
"Can I assist somehow?"
"I don't know, Ruko."
"Perhaps we can construct a flowchart," the AI chirped. "Wh—"
"Not now. I need to think."
"Very well."
She kept her eyes on the expansive void of space, hoping for the fruit shipment to arrive and save her from both her poverty and her thoughts.
It never did come.
"We are not very lucky," Ruko droned.
"If we had only gotten that fruit shipment," Luka growled. In truth, they had made more money in that period of time than ever before. But before, she wasn't scavenging in a hurry. And in the grand scheme of things, even their little extra sales had been small-scale. "If only..."
"Shall I expand my search to solitary travelers?"
She sighed. "Sure. Why not."
"Understood."
She waited, staring up at the vast darkness of space, waited for Ruko to victoriously declare that some lord was, stupidly, traveling totally on his own. Or that another freighter had fallen apart without any reason, just an hour prior, a mere sector away.
The minute stretched on, ending only with her sigh as she sank onto the dashboard.
The flower from the Sapphire Shores was still there on the dashboard, oblivious to everything happening around it. It merely existed as they toiled to find a score, standing mutely as Luka wrestled with her thoughts.
Yet she smiled at it. She had almost forgotten about the flower, even though it had been sitting there all that time. It was fortunate, she supposed, that Miku had gifted it to her before she got banned from that planet. She had a copy of her favorite flower to keep, forever and ever.
The smile wavered.
She had to admit it to herself.
There was no denying it.
She missed Miku. Sorely.
With a shake of her head, the scavenger clicked on the police scanner again. She needed to keep active, to keep working, to keep moving forward. In those moments when she had nothing to do but think, her mind invariably returned to Miku. Luka could only compare her absence to her presence, the anxiety she caused to the crushing solitude without her. The thought of spending the rest of her life in such solitude, after having tasted the tolerable, even delightful company of the android, hurt her so much she wanted to crawl into a hole to hide from herself.
She had always loved solitude. She had always needed it. But Miku had made having company seem almost normal, as long as it was her. Even if the android scared her half to death, Luka missed her smile, her songs, her cool touch as she replaced the bandages.
Ruko couldn't converse like Miku. It was all work and no play with her ship's AI. She had thought she could live with that for the rest of her life. But really, there was no replacing the Earth android.
She didn't want solitude any longer.
And Miku, she...
Luka sighed, unable to concentrate on the audio. How could she be so distracted by the person she was trying so hard to save? She stared at the flower, so blue, so beautiful, her favorite—a poor replacement for the friend that had been taken from her.
She reached for the plant, as Miku so often had. She clearly loved the flower.
She loved Luka, too.
Did Miku long to touch her, as well?
Luka paused, fingers resting on the mug. It was lucky that it was fastened to the dashboard with such a strong magnet. Most of her kitchenware was designed to do that. Sure, the typical contents of the mug would fly around when the ship lurched, but it was just a good idea to have solid things that wouldn't fly around everywhere in space. It was luckier still that the flower had stayed in place as long as it did.
Gently, she lifted the preserved bloom. It was heavier than she remembered. Even though it was dead, it looked alive, sparkling, gorgeously blue.
Fake blue, illusively alive, yet so pretty all the same.
Luka sighed, holding the flower a bit closer. It was a sturdy thing, its petals stiff, its stem strong. But she didn't dare caress it too much, much less hug it.
If it were to break, all she would have left of Miku would be the entire wardrobe of tailored clothes they had made together. If she failed to save the android, if it ever turned out that she was beyond saving, all that would go in the trash. And if Miku would choose to leave for a better, kinder life, a life where she might actually find love in return, then she would take all that along.
If Miku couldn't stay, then nothing that belonged to her would stay behind. All Luka would have left would be the flower.
Luka frowned. She needed to get back to work. She wanted to see Miku again, at least confirm that she was all right. Just that. Just that tiny little bit had to be enough. She'd deal with it somehow, if Miku ever chose to leave her behind. First things first.
With determination, she stuffed the plant back into the mug.
She met resistance; the stem only slightly sank into the mug before hitting something solid.
Luka blinked, confused. Frowning, she lifted and looked into the mug.
Inside was a whole roll of bills.
"What..."
With shaking hands, she pulled the bills from the mug and fanned them out.
They were all in large denominations.
"Stars...!" She almost choked on her own breath as she quickly counted them. "Ruko?"
"Yes?"
"Did you know about this?"
"I did not," the AI admitted. "Is that Miku's?"
Her tip money. Luka felt her breath catch.
Miku had left her whole fortune behind.
"It is."
"A lucky find."
"That's one way to put it!" Luka said with a laugh, recounting the bills. "This... This is unbelievable!"
After a brief pause, Ruko declared, "We currently have enough money for the buy-in."
"Stars."
"We can now start working towards a fortune with which we can attempt to purchase Miku."
"Yes, we can..."
Miku had made more money singing in a handful of days than Luka had scavenging for half a month.
Luka smiled, clutching the bills close to her chest. Her heart was racing, swelling with something. Was it pride? No, it was something warmer. More complex.
"What is the plan?"
Luka considered the question carefully.
"There are so many ways this can go," she said.
"Let's make a flowchart," Ruko suggested. "When we arrive, either we are denied entry, or we are allowed to participate in the auction."
"If we're turned away, we'll stay as close as we can," Luka said firmly. "And we'll draw a bead on every ship that leaves there. See if we can track down Miku that way, somehow."
"Understood. If we are allowed to enter?"
"I'll use the new ID I bought, so they won't really know it's me, hopefully. We'll need to make a new ID for you."
"Would they recognize you?"
Luka hesitated. "Would they?"
"I can identify you, but I do not consider human features in the same way as humans do. I cannot answer in their stead."
The scavenger sat up, warily looking toward her tiny bathroom.
She still hadn't looked at her reflection. It had become a habit to respect the hoodie draped over her mirror. She wasn't as afraid of what she might see as she had been, but apprehension remained; the swelling was still there, though she guessed it was less red than it once was. The bone underneath had recovered completely, thanks to Fukase. As far as she knew, she wasn't disfigured, at least not permanently.
After taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door to the bathroom, then yanked the hoodie down.
It was worse than she had hoped.
It was better than she had feared.
"Huh," she muttered, leaning forward. Her brow was swollen. She hadn't noticed, or she had gotten used to it, but it partially obscured her eye. Her cheekbone was a bit more subtle, but it did make half of her face look big. "Maybe they wouldn't."
"There is still makeup left."
"Really?"
"Yes. Unfortunately, there is no more hair dye."
"That wouldn't be any good anyway: it won't match my ID. I'm lucky he had one that vaguely looked like me."
"You can cut your hair to match the ID and apply some makeup to change your features."
"I'll do that."
"If we suppose that they do not recognize you, allow you to pay the fee, and allow you to attend, then you will participate in the auction."
"Either Miku shows, or she doesn't," Luka muttered, examining herself in the mirror as she spoke. Her teeth were all in place, though some of her gum showed scarring. There was a fine line on her brow too, where her eyebrow wasn't growing any longer, as well as a small, shallow crescent carved into her cheekbone. The tip of her tongue was a slightly different color from the rest. All rather badass, she told herself, yet her stomach lurched a bit. "If she doesn't, we get lost and keep looking far and wide."
"If she does, you will bid on her."
"You bet."
"Either you win or lose."
"If I lose, then I'll follow the winner out. See what ship they're flying."
"In these events, it is custom for all the buyers to leave last. You will likely be escorted out if you have not made a purchase."
She grumbled. "I'll remember the face, then. And we'll do the same if I'm not let in, provided I survive: stake out, see the ships that leave. We'll make a match sooner or later."
"Understood. And should you win?"
"Unbelievably unlikely," Luka admitted, returning to her room to look for the makeup. Although they had made a few hits and sales since she had found Miku's stash, the remaining fortune was small. She had needed to buy some more fuel for the trip to and from the estate.
"Of course. Suppose you do win, though?"
"She is not allowed to know it's me until we're far away," Luka immediately decided. "Where was the makeup?"
"You have placed it in your dresser."
"Thanks. If she sees it's me, she might accidentally show that she recognizes me. And, well, I might betray that too. It's best we don't make eye contact. If they even get a hint that I got her back or that she's happy about the outcome, they might get suspicious and take her away again."
"Understood. You may have to request to have her delivered blindfolded."
Luka cursed as she rifled through her clothes. "Of course. If they still have control over her, then it's by some technological means. A blindfold will be one more thing she'll have to deal with."
"Briefly."
"Sure. But it sucks."
"Of course."
She retrieved the palette and brushes, opened the box and studied the contents. "Fantastic... I have no idea how to use these."
"I have some very basic tutorials on makeup use. They had helped Miku in learning how to use these tools."
"Great, pull those up."
"Understood."
Luka returned to the bathroom, tied her hair. "Ok, so the best-case scenario is that I win, request to have her delivered blindfolded. Worst case scenario is that she's not there at all."
"Agreed. Anything in between, we can work with."
"Exactly. Any lead is a good one." She prepared a brush. "Pull up a tutorial."
Ruko displayed the instructions on the surface of the mirror. Luka read through them once, then started following the steps.
"How long until we get there?"
"Ten hours."
"Enough for a bit of practice and a solid nap," Luka muttered. "Stars, I'm so nervous..."
"Who will you be?"
"What do you mean?"
"Being Luka the scavenger would not end well for you. You must be someone else. Your new ID has the name Iroha Nekomura."
She mouthed the name to herself. "Fine. I'm Iroha Nekomura."
"And what do you do?"
She considered it for a while as she followed the instructions, slowly deepening the set of her eyes, highlighting her good cheekbone. "I'm a robot enthusiast. I'm interested in this technological wonder to see how it works. I'm buying her to take her apart."
"Very well."
"That's why I want her blindfolded," she went on. "So she doesn't see the creepy stuff I have on my ship."
"A good idea."
Luka hummed. "I was born on Ophid. I'm thirty galactic years old. I am an only child. Back home, I have three pet felids. Their names are Yuu, Kyo, and Wil. I'm a widow; my late husband died in a terrible workplace accident and I don't like talking about it. The fortune he left me allows me to freelance with my robotic work. I graduated school with average grades, but my parents are pretty proud of me. Both are dead."
"A thorough identity."
She smiled. "Thanks."
"I wonder if Miku will be able to recognize you."
"I hope not."
"She has excellent eyesight and hearing beyond description."
"I guess I better keep my mouth shut..."
"And your hood raised. Your injuries can help explain why you must keep yourself hidden."
"My previous machine attacked me. That is why I'm so determined to get my hands on such a smart AI."
"Very good. Your new accent may help keep her from recognizing you."
Luka lifted her head. "Is it so pronounced?"
"It is subtle. I can tell that you are putting effort into your enunciation. Your consonants are particularly crisp."
"Huh."
"This works to your advantage."
"Good. All I have working against me is the fact that I'm really poor."
"That is true."
She sighed, stood back from the mirror. "How's this?"
After some silence, Ruko replied, "It is good that there is still time before we approach."
The woman barked a laugh, preparing a towel to wipe the makeup off. "I'm going to die there, aren't I?"
"The odds exist," Ruko conceded. "However, so do the odds of victory."
Luka shook her head and prepared to start over.
"Right. Let's bet on that, then."
