Starblight: Chapter 1

AN: This is the beginning of a sci-fi series that I'm writing. It will be very episodic in nature as I build on the characters and universe. I realize it's a completely new universe that I'm introducing, and I am open to writing a short background on the universe should it be necessary. However, I hope the narration is good enough to introduce you to this new and vast world that I'm working on.
Thanks for reading and please comment!

Chapter 1: Pack of Stray Dogs

Quinta Ring, Cornu System Planet: Kybo
Aside from winning 200 credits from the bone tables, successfully acquiring a reputable and dangerous crimelord's prized gold plated Spyder-Mark 4 Plasma-Magnum, and swapping saliva with a beautiful escort of said crimelord, Grey was not having a good day. He was forced to retreat his gliding hand from the escort's exquisitely shapen hip at the grating pulse of the casino's alarm. He rolled his eyes knowingly and sat up from the lush king-sized bed within the high-rollers VIP suite.
"There's always something," Grey groaned, straightening up, grabbing his navy blue, satin shirt from the brass bed frame. He tilted his head back to the ceiling mirror and admire his own, well-kept human physique before buttoning his shirt all the way and tucking his dress shirt into his unbuttoned black dress pants. He reclaimed his datawatch from the pine end table next to the bed that lay beneath the ornate, brass desk lamp that added, with the rest of the low lighting in the room, a sensual red hue. Red was an overdone color in his opinion. He didn't see the correlation between it and sex.
"What's going on?" The escort inquired, rustling in bed behind him.
"Nothing. Time to get back to work," Grey answered, fixing his brown, wavy hair in the mirror above him before strapping on his black steel-toe boots that he left at the bedside upon the bright red, shag carpet floor. "Say, you don't tell, I won't tell neither."
A familiar hiss that could only have come from the very expensive gold-plated plasma-magnum caused him to pause and roll his eyes. His day got much worse.
"It's either," the escort corrected.
Grey turned around slowly and went cross-eyed seeing the barrel of the gun pointed right-between his eyes. He forced his agitated scowl to turn soft and charming as he had done so before to win her affection upon the frilled covers of the bed.
"Ok. How about, let's forget the alarm and resume where we left off," Grey proposed.
"I knew you were a bad man as soon as you walked through that door. Now I know for sure why you're here."
His eyes traveled from the gun to her body. It was unfortunate things would have to end violent instead of pleasant. Normally all his female encounters ended in the latter. She was fair yet bland: a staple human prostitute possessing the perfect proportions between her upper assets and her lower, applied with a modest amount of make-up, adorned in the all-too common silk red undergarments, and long blonde hair. He liked blondes. Although he realized it to be a stereotype, they were much easier to outwit and charm and were much more tame than redheads. He did not discriminate, however. Colors were subjective.
"You're absolutely right. I am a very bad man," Grey admitted in a sly fashion, allowing his finger to cautiously yet sensually glide on her knee, "But judging by you holding that pistol to my head, I would say you're very mistaken as to why I'm here. So put the gun down and let me show you what kind of bad man I really am." He curled one side of his mouth into a priceless smirk. It always worked on women. It usually worked on women. The right women...
She chuckled in a sort of unattractive way. Grey did not appreciated it. "Not a chance. I figure the boss will give me a raise having apprehended the bad man who was going to walk out of his casino with his favorite gun." She bit her lip and sighed, countering his charm with sadistic teasing. "You're going to make me one wealthy girl."
Grey's face contorted and his eyes returned to the magnum. He blinked twice.
"Check the safety first," he said plainly.
         As the magnum tilted slowly in her hands by her own curious gullibility, his hand swiftly forced her wrist back and down to the bed while his other hand made an open palm strike to her jaw. Her body fell back to the bed and Grey ripped the firearm from her limp grasp and struck her with the pistol for a knock-out.
         He looked down at her and shook his head. Too easy...at least something was going right.
         "Pompous grammarian can't tell whether or not a gun has a safety on it," he groveled, continuing to strap on his boots once again before collecting his charcoal colored peacoat from the hanger, adjusting the collar to its proper, stiff and upright position. "Where'd a whore even bother to learn grammar from?"
          His mind trailed off as he exited the VIP room while the sirens still blared, contemplating if she could have possibly been a failed school teacher or librarian forced to resort to her more baser talents and assets to get by. He lamented that such was life though marveled, reminiscing the dexterity of her tongue.
         He held the hand carrying the gun behind his back as he casually walked out of the plush, scarlet hallway of the VIP suites as panicking, high-rolling clients and their well-paid entertainers peaked their head out to inspect the raucous of the alarms. His eyes squinted in adjustment to the dim red hues to the neon lights and golden scones that patterned the entire casino. He brought his datawatch up to his mouth and dialed in.
         "What happened?"
         The response was delayed though after a few seconds finally crackled on his wrist. The voice was the guttural monotone of the Krovin that was slowly getting on his nerves, "The virus didn't take."
         "I can see that. Why?"
         "There must've been a firewall that I missed. I thought..."
         "Is Tulu on the channel?"
         "I didn't hail him."
         Grey fought the quick temptation to chew him out then and there before taking a breath. He had to remain calm despite all his misfortune that day. Night terrors and dysentery were terrible ways for one to begin their day, and possessing a consistently unreliable ally simply made everything even more dismal. His petty criminal life was finally catching up with him; he knew he deserved better.
         "And Em?"
         A new voice sounded from his watch, familiar, sharper and more shrill than the other, "I'm busy. Running interference since the alarm tripped."
         "Where are you, Mar?" He asked curtly.
         "Office B7 in the basement," Mar, the Krovin, grunted back, "You can take the elevator."
         "Hail me both of your positions. I'm heading to Mar. Can you handle yourself, Em?"
         A red and green arrow with distances displayed on his datawatch as compass directions, showing the approximate distance of each of their locations from his position as he moved.
         Em chimed back with gunfire rivaling the volume of her voice hissing on his watch, "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."
         "Mar, get Tulu on the line. I'm coming to you."
         Grey turned a corner, avoiding concerned gazes as he did so, hoping he would not be stopped for the prize he hid behind his back. Slowly crowds began herding through the halls in a panic, allowing Grey some cover from any suspecting guards that he might run into. Fortunately the alarms and their commotion was enough to mask his conversation from the wrong people listening in. He rejoiced finding an elevator and made his way in without suspicion. As the doors closed he pushed the button to the basement only to find it buzz in obstinance while a light lit up just above a slot indicating an access card was necessary.
         "Mar, how did you manage downstairs?"
         "Elevator," he croaked back.
         "How'd you get down without an access card?"
         "Hacked it."
         Grey paused for a moment waiting for his comrade to chime in a solution to his predicament before rolling his eyes and hitting his head on the side of the elevator.
         "How exactly were you expecting me to use the elevator when you knew that I--"
         "Oh...wait, boss. I'll get it for you."
         Grey mouthed sarcastically "thank you" to himself and in a matter of seconds the elevator lurched downward. Good help was hard to find around the galaxy. Some lied on their credentials so as to find a job, keeping themselves fed, others got greedy and ended up working for those you were going to steal from, and then some folk just flat out became insubordinate and started mutinies...just one thing after another. It was a harsh world that he lived and fought in. He was learning first hand how hard it could be living a dishonest life doing unsavory work and he very quickly became exposed to the sort of bottom-feeders that offered themselves to that sort of work. There were exceptions of course...Em...Tulu...Baxter...Jo...
         Mar was something else though. He came with the credentials as a fighter--what Krovin wasn't though--and an experienced hacker, participating in a few heists before he took him in. He knew his way around a gun and computer just fine, but he lacked backbone...not unsurprising to Grey coming from a mole species ascending from worms. He would hesitate, second-guess, and in general not perform well under pressure. He may have been a fighter, but he wasn't really a soldier. As much as Grey was looking forward to a tech-savvy member on his crew, Mar wasn't living up to what he promised he was capable of doing. Too often did Mar go to Tulu for consultation, and while Tulu knew a thing or two about computers, he didn't pay Mar to go ask for a second opinion. He paid him to do what he promised he was able to do on a moment's notice.
          The elevator lurched to a halt and Grey brought his newly acquired pistol up and ready for opposition. The doors slid open and Grey peaked around into a concrete corridor with many steel doors, lit strangely brighter than everywhere else in the casino with numerous hanging lamps traversing through the halls. Grey gritted his teeth as the alarm was even more unsettling in the basement. He cautiously made his way out and followed the red arrow on his watch all the way down where the numbers on the door slowly descended from 30s to 20s, leading him to a T in the corridor.
         As he peaked his head around the left he recoiled back at the sound of shouting shortly followed by gunfire. He managed to see three armed security guards, all human. Grey was through with wasting time. Although he desired to test out his new gun, he instead rifled through one of his jacket pockets to pull out a small concussion grenade. Grey pushed the fuse and glanced around the corner to get the bearings of his targets. The three moved up about five meters and were all relatively clustered together. He counted the last few seconds before tossing and breathed in relief at the satisfactory loud crack followed by anguished cries from its explosion.
         Grey strode up to each of them, watching them pathetically try to cover as most of their faces bled from their noses or ears from the blast, finishing each one with a solid crack over their heads with his weighty sidearm, and moved on in search of the office. He followed his watch through the corridors until it pointed him to B7 wherein he knocked loudly, "It's Grey!"
         There was shuffling beyond the door, and as the door opened, standing in front of him, was the husky, heavily armored Krovin staring dolefully at him as was his customary fade. Mar blinked its tiny-slit eyes at Grey and puckered its leech looking mouth anxiously. Although he had nothing against Krovins, Grey was reminded of hos pathetic the mole-ish alien appeared, slouched at Grey's height when at full height he stood at least half a foot taller than him, donning his inherited faded and dented copper armor that supported the worm's body. Grey wondered if they were to finish the job if the Krovin would part with his current birthright for a new, more impressive exoskeleton.
         Grey barged in past the hulk of muscle and armor and did his best to make heads and tails of what Mar was working with.
         "You couldn't figure out a way to shut off the alarm?" Grey imposed.
         "I-I didn't..." The Krovin replied in a sheepish and pathetic tone.
         Grey slammed his new weapon hard on the desktop of a terminal, finding the Krovin's hesitating responses and persistent alarm to be too much to bear at that moment.
         "Damn it, Mar! I had to hit a girl because of you! And I don't like hitting girls!"
         "I...uh..."
         "There are three people working this job, and everything was supposed to go smoothly. I found the gun we were looking for...even managed to win myself a little something at the tables shooting bones while you and Em got into position. Now, this virus that we received was supposed to work."
         "I know it was. It...it just didn't work. There was an unforeseen firewall..."
         "Unforseen to who? To you?!"
         Grey didn't let Mar answer.
         "For as much as you call and ask for Tulu's advice...the one time you didn't think to ask for his advice...you mess things up."
         "I thought I could do this on my own," Mar grunted back passively.
         Grey slammed a closed fist onto the desk before him and closed his eyes, feeling nauseous of all that was going wrong. He took in a deep breath and looked at the computer before him. The datachip that they had been given for the job was still plugged into the console while the computer's screen flashed with error messages.
         The job was simple. Get into the office undetected, install a virus into the system that would end up fluctuating the fixed win ratios of the slots in favor of the patrons, and steal the casino owner's prized possession, the golden gun that he now carried, as a bonus. Their contractor had everything spelled out neatly in meticulous detail, which was something hard to come by for Grey in his job-searching. They had let down their employer for what would have been a very well-paying job...something hard to come by for he and his crew as of recent.
         "Nothing we can do now. They'll be checking to see what we've done." Grey took out the datachip and stowed it in his coat pocket and picked up the magnum as he heard the sound of shouting and footsteps streaming from outside in the corridor. "You might not be the greatest hacker, but you think you can fight our way out of this?"
         "I am Krovin," Mar reassured, cocking his Krovin-Ballistic sub-machine gun.
         Grey dialed back to his watch and spoke, "Tulu? Do you read?"
         "Captain, here, Captain!" Gleefully clicked the Arthrak voice.
         "Plans changed. We're going to need an immediate extraction soon. It might get hot."
         "Yes, Captain! Love to help, Captain!"
         Grey flinched at the sound of the gunfire upon the door and ducked behind a computer desk for cover. Grey could hear the door slam open and Mar opening fire immediately in retaliation with his SMG followed by various dismal shouts of pain and death. Perhaps he was good for something, Grey thought to himself.
He peeked above the desk and watched the armored mole clear the rest of the corridor out and dialed back into his watch.
"Em. Status."
There was a momentary delay before her somewhat exhausted voice chimed back in, "Just finished my seventh corpse. How are we doing?"
"Pretty sure security will be coming for us in the basement. We're making our way for an exit."
"I heard we will be extracted."
"Indeed. Think you can arrange for us a means to the roof without using stairs or elevators?"
"Make it to the second floor and I'll see what I can do for you. I'll be sure to tag the exit."
"Sounds good. Tulu, get that? We're going to make our way to the roof. Have Baxter prepare to extract us from the roof and set course for off this damn rock."
"Yes, yes!" Tulu chirped.
Grey got up to catch up to Mar. He hoped Mar would save him at least one thing to shoot at so as to try out the gun.

***

Em hated casinos. While the lights and commotion were disorientating, the smells were the worst. The stench of various types of alcohol around every corner, thick traces of cologne and perfume to cover up the delectable scent of body odor, and not to mention the nauseating yet subtle wafts of pheromones that were pumped through the vents to keep their customers nice and happy. She could not fathom how another Serrelon could tolerate such an environment, and yet the Serrelon running the Hydra Syndicate's owned such attractions on this particular planet.
Em wiped the blood off her claws on the suit of the human security guard that she had just slain and spat the man's blood from her mouth after which she licked her fangs clean of the less than adequate taste. The poor monkey had just exited the restroom to regroup with his comrades and was met with the unfortunate fate of crossing paths with a skilled raptor assassin. She did not enjoy biting so much, although the man struggled far too much when she had pounced on him, and breaking his neck with the use of her jaws was her only option. She almost felt bad, although his affiliation with the casino automatically wrote him off as scum who clearly had no concern for his own well being or character.
Em ruffled her short, mauve plumage tensely from their neat weave over her scaled body, and scanned her surroundings within the hall connecting the slots with the bones tables on the second floor. Aside from the alarm, things were mostly quiet as the large majority of patrons had already evacuated while most of the armed casino guards were likely making their way downstairs. Her instinct was to go and link up with Grey and Mar, though she knew her purpose was to make them an exit. She hoped the Krovin would pull through at least in keeping Grey safe.
Em made her way into the room with bones tables seeing discarded dice, credits, and glasses of alcohol strewn about the table and even the floor, enough of them strewn in a pattern that revealed the paths of evacuation for the patrons who had already left. It was a miracle for her to find a window in such an establishment, although the view of the crime-ridden city was quite impressive; whatever topography that used to lay there was now a mystery as the landscape of what she saw of the planet was a lush concrete jungle of lights and business. Beneath her leather vest, she rifled through her utility harness, found her laser cutter, and began to remove the window at once.
Getting out was always harder than getting in. Even though she was given the task of sneaking in their weapons through an uncomfortably small window that led into one of the restrooms on the third floor--which she had to end up non-lethally silencing a witness within the process--she had a plan and fall-back contingencies for entering. Exiting was generally always left for improvisation, which was not necessarily a weakness for her but meant tailoring a strategy to those larger, clumsier, and less acrobatic than herself. The Captain and the Krovin were to walk in, collect their gear, and walk out after the job was done. Aggro had now changed the neatness of their plan.
Em carefully removed the carved glass from the window panel and perched herself on the window sill and inhaled with respite the polluted, pungent air of the city--although putrid, it was much more relaxing to her olfactory than the stuffy synthetics of the casino. It was an easy climb for her of four stories up on a brick structure. It only needed to be easy for her, the other two could rappel once she secured one for them.
She tested her grip on the brick and gave a tug and felt relatively certain that she could scale it at least to the next window sill without any mechanical assistance. She quickly tagged her location on the window for Grey and Mar and then carefully planted herself on the window sill, crouching to gain some lift. Her light, hollow-boned body sprang up just below the next story's window and her claws and talons did the rest in securing herself to scale up and reach the next window. She repeated this process until making it to the roof, doing so under a minute flat.
She tested the sturdiness of the railing before securing a retractable rappel coil around it and allowing it to fall down to the window that she had come from. She knew Grey possessed the upper body strength necessary to climb up on his own, but the Krovin would require the grapple to feed back its coil due to his weight.
She dialed in on her datawatch and spoke, "I'm in position and rappel is ready."
"Making our way," Grey replied sounding strangely exhausted.
"Evac?" Em petitioned.
"Five minutes!" Tulu announced.
"Make it two," Grey retorted.
Em cocked her head at Grey's insistence. His voice made her greatly uneasy as to how he was doing although she knew it was not her place to investigate then and there.
Sure enough, in roughly two and a half minutes Em could hear the roar of their ship, Brook, spiral slowly from the skies and below the skyscrapers towards the roof of the casino. Brook was a special girl not like the others. Her main body was a catamaran of sorts; its two pylons were sloped upward to its cylindrical bridge which also connected at the bottom with its cargo bay. Its greatness was supported both by two small rotating thrusters on each port and starboard near the bow and by the two collapsing wings outfitted with larger thrusters near its stern. It was not a home that she had to go home to but rather a home that was able to come to her, and for this she greatly adored her.
Brook hovered over the roof and opened her cargo bay while retracting a ladder that shifted across the rooftop as the vessel attempted to maintain altitude.
Em nervously went back to the rappel point she had made and saw Grey carefully make his way out the window and up the rope, though refusing to use his legs to support his climb. Em shifted her vantage point to see blood coming from his shin and hip.
"What happened?!" She called out to him.
"Got shot. Mar's staying behind. You mind pulling up this thing up?"
Although she wanted to press him to elaborate and was somewhat shocked to hear that Mar would not be joining them she complied and moved to the rappel and flipped the mechanism's lever to feed back in the coil. From there, Grey managed to heave himself up and over the railing of the roof where Em felt helpless in her lightweight to not even help him to his feet. She removed the rappel while she heard Grey moan and force himself onto his two feet.
She dialed back into her datawatch and spoke, "Tulu, have Jo prepare the medical bay. Captain's been shot. Doesn't look too serious."
"Yes, yes!" Tulu chimed back.
"Great...more climbing," Grey grumbled.
"It's just a little further," Em encouraged.
"Ladies first...erm...raptors, I mean," Grey motioned.
Em ignored the derogatory and flung herself up the ladder, rapidly climbing it while she felt the ladder shift behind her as Grey ascended uneasily.

***

Jo hastily cleaned off the operating table in the middle of the med bay of her art supplies, carelessly sweeping off brushes, pencils, and paints to the once white tile floor and tossing her current work in progress--a watercolor of a young girl that visited her in her dreams--carelessly onto the counter at the back of the room with medical equipment on it. Her whole body lurched from the ship's thrust and she instinctively brought her hands up to prevent her head from smashing into the reinforced-glass apothecary cabinet.
She reached for the nearby comm that hung above the sink and buzzed in, shouting, "If I'm going to be working on someone, this ship had better be stable!"
"Look, you wanna wait for Hydra to intercept us or do you want to get off this rock?!" An impish reply came from a pubescent voice over the comm.
Jo contemplated reprimanding the little shit but stifled herself hearing Grey's voice as he entered through the containment threshold of the med bay.
"We break atmo, and then you can operate, Jo."
Jo turned briefly to see Grey being helped in by the six-appendaged insect on their ship followed by the raptor, casually bobbing inside behind them. All of them recoiled from another sudden shift in the ship's course.
"Where's Mar? Why are you letting Tulu carry you in?" Jo inquired while scrubbing the paint and graphite off her hands in the sink before her on the counter.
"I'm helping!" Tulu chirped in a snappy manner.
"Mar stayed behind," Grey retorted helping himself off Tulu and supporting himself upon the operating table in the middle of the room, "It's a long story. I'll explain later. In the meantime, everyone brace yourself."
"Are we being followed?" Jo asked as the ship lurched again.
"I just fix ship!" Tulu squeaked angrily.
"Em," Grey turned to the Serrelon, "You mind checking in with Baxter and keeping us updated until we've left this planet?"
Em sprinted through the containment doors of the medical bay before the ship took another nasty dip and scurried her way up to the bridge. Jo watched in pity seeing Tulu flail around on the other side of the room to find something sturdy to hold onto as the ship took its turns, strafes, and dips. It was a painfully amusing sight to see the multi-armed insect struggle to support himself and hold tight onto his red visor cap that bobbed on his head with the trembling of the ship.
"Grab onto the cupboards," Jo instructed as she did the same, planting herself in the corner of the counters.
Tulu's arms nervously reached around before his two dexterous arms found the high cupboards to support himself on, his middle, bulkier arms onto the bottom, while his feet planted him awkwardly into a squatting position on the floor. Jo watched his mandibles chattered nervously as Brook trembled. She was never quite fond of Arthrak. She didn't like bugs, though she wasn't racist. Tulu was endearing at least. He was awkward but a genius, and she could tell he had a good heart. Tulu would have given her a great deal more comfort if she allowed him to be his friend, though she felt it hard to foster that connection with anyone on the ship but the Captain; he was the only thing she had, and he was like family to her.
"We've either outrun them or they're letting up," Em announced over the ship's comm, "Unless they have some sort of patrols in orbit, we should be safe. Sit back and enjoy the turbulence as we break atmo."
Jo breathed in a long sigh of relief and met Grey's piercing grey eyes that told of a deal of frustration and disappointment. His emotions pierced through her and her heart sank feeling the same dread of some bad news. She waited as the ship trembled in atmosphere watching his hurt look. Emotions were contagious for her; she contracted them too easily. The worst was when they came from her boss and comrade. Grey didn't upset too easily, but things only got worse for him after the war, after being discharged...
As the turbulence stopped Jo felt the hard, transmitted emotions ease as she fixed her once neatly kept bob cut as strands of black and red dyed hair clung to her face. Over her paint-stained black tank-top and cargo pants she tied a blood-stained smock and put on a set of disposable gloves over her pale, dainty hands.
"Tulu, hand me my supplies," Jo said as she headed over to Grey while he tossed his coat to the tiled floor and pulled up his pants over the wound in his shin and began to ubutton his shirt.
"Tulu help!" The bug scurried towards the cabinets and began scavenging for the rudimentary supplies that he'd learned to acquire in such situations.
"Could've been worse, I suppose. Could've ruined my shirt...or coat," Grey grumbled, examining his satin shirt before tossing it in the corner of the room.
"What happened?" Jo asked dryly as she began examining his hip wound.
There was a pause before he answered, and he did so in his snide irritated tone.
"You know, I come back from a dangerous mission, get shot, and now I get interrogated on my own ship..."
"No exit wound," Jo said, sticking her finger in the wound and getting a nice grimace out of her comrade. Tulu came hustling forward, his arms full of medical supplies. Jo looked for a clamp within his grasp and continued with her job, "Talking will make this less painful for you. You should know this by now."
"And I think we all have a right to know," Em retorted, as she bobbed back into the room and took up a comfortable perching on a stool in the corner. "Someone was left behind, and I paid you the courtesy of not asking why back there."
"Isn't it obvious what happened?!" Grey hollered while Jo extracted the bullet from his hip and flung it into the sink across the room. "Why?! Why can't everyone just evolve and stop using bullets?!"
"Burning, not so much better than bullets, actually" Tulu clicked thoughtfully, "Scarring, much worse...splash, wider...painful...increased risk of cancer..."
"Captain, what happened with Mar?" Em asked pointedly.
Jo glanced up at Grey curiously as she applied gauss to his bullet wound and forced his hand to apply pressure. She could not personally attest to being fond of the Krovin. While she rarely conversed with anyone at great length but the Captain, Mar was peculiar, awkward, and clumsy. He would rummage curiously through her medical supplies, casually inspect her drawings and paintings, in general be in the way when not invited. However, despite her discomfort, she worried for his well-being.
"Mar messed up the job. Said he could hack the system and get the virus in. Said he came across some sort of firewall. That's why we needed a hot extract...that's why I walk away from this with two more very attractive scars."
Em cocked her head curiously, "And he's not here, in the ship with us now, because..."
"He's not worth paying," Grey replied frankly, "This is the fourth time he's put us in danger's way while also messing up a perfect plan. You know he's been more trouble than use."
"Why? What did he do before this?" Jo asked as she looked over Grey's shin, thankful to see an exit wound. It was a graze at best.
"Gee, I don't know. Let's start with the Vexation POW base on Misos. Mar said he could disable the base's security systems without any problems. Instead, he sets off the alarm and puts up their defense turrets on high alert. Then there was the Singularity Cargo heist. Not only did he fail to cut the communications and block the distress beacon, he gets trigger happy and manages to put a hole in the bulkhead, nearly killing everyone inside carelessly. And lastly, and this is my favorite, on Iremia, the Hydra resort...remember that big bounty we were supposed to pick up on one of the Hydra ring leaders? He runs into some of the security, and instead of playing low key he ends up getting into a disagreement with them, starts a firefight on behalf of a few naughty words that were spoken about his mother, and literally almost burns down the entire hotel that we were in. He's bad luck!"
"How did you get shot this time?" Tulu inquired.
"Ambush from a corner. He said it looked clear. Never go when they say it looks clear! He may be a damn good fighter, but he's not a wingman."
"And so you just left him there?" Em inquired.
"With all those men looking for you?" Jo asked giving a disapproving glance at him while she rummaged through Tulu's arms for the CoagGel to seal up both his wounds. She again received a painful reaction from him as she did her work.
"He's capable of taking care of himself, not to mention that our exit created enough of a diversion for him to get out," Grey replied. "And it's not like I left him empty handed."
Jo glanced up curiously as she finished sealing up his wounds and snapped off her gloves.
"What do you mean by that?" Jo asked.
"I gave him the gun I stole," Grey replied casually.
"You're joking, right?" Em asked, suddenly sounding offended by the statement.
"Ah, I get it..." Grey snickered as he flexed his leg and eased himself off the table. "I'm a heartless person for leaving a man behind who's been nothing but a liability to us since we hired him, but now...how dare I show a little bit of charity and compassion by leaving him with a parting gift!"
"You do realize how much money that gun was worth, don't you?" Em snapped, jumping off her stool to meet him, though her three and a half foot stance was barely anything to threaten him by.
"3,748 credits, to be exact," Tulu recalled.
"I know damn well how much that gun was worth, and I didn't even have the chance to fire it a single time!"
Grey's voice carried throughout the entire ship and created an unnerving silence amongst the crew. Jo went back to feeling sick under the pressure of his frustration. She returned to the sink, turning her back on him while washing her hands casually. He continued to rant.
"Look, I know we are down on our luck! I know we're only getting by. So take it as a favor for dropping him then and there. We get a couple more days to eat without another mouth to feed, one that cost us a job that would've got us back on our feet and let us eat like the accomplished criminals that we so aspired to become."
"Hey, everything alright in here?"
Jo turned hearing the 15-year old boy entering the medical bay. She turned seeing the adolescent casually stroll in, hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his shorts that were supported by his suspenders. She bit her lip wishing Baxter would've stayed out of the conversation.
"Who the hell is piloting this ship now?!" Grey blindly accused.
"Umm...auto pilot, duh," Baxter replied in a coy fashion, readjusting his hologlasses that slid down his thin nose.
"Maybe it best for Baxter to stay out of these conversations," Tulu sheepishly suggested, moving his way slowly to Baxter to usher him out.
"Baxter's crew. This is relevant to him." Grey insisted, causing the insect to pause and shudder, "Baxter, we are going to be starving shortly. Care to learn how to shoot and be our newest hired gun?"
Baxter gasped in giddiness like the adolescent boy that he was while his blue eyes lit up in wonder.
"Really?!"
"NO!" Em and Jo shouted in unison.
"What?! Why not?" Grey argued, "Because he's not legal to drink or have sex on most planets means he can't handle a gun? Manhood's not about a number, it's about responsibility, and he's already demonstrated the responsibility that he has to run away with criminals like us and lead a life of adventure. Isn't that right, Baxter?"
"He'd be a bigger liability than Mar," Em stated plainly. "You realize how much you and I would have to babysit him in a firefight? He's inexperienced, and we'd be more concerned with protecting him than the actual mission."
"No way!" Baxter defied, "I can take care of myself!"
"How else is he going to learn?" Grey asked dryly.
"I've been shot at before! I know what it's like," Baxter added.
"Yeah, while you were in a ship," Em countered.
"Yeah, so technically that means I'm babysitting all of you guys at the helm!"
"It wouldn't take much at all to teach him how to hold his own in a firefight," Grey argued, "He's a fifteen year old college drop out who learned how to fly one of these things before I enlisted. He's a natural learner."
"You're not letting a child go into battle," Jo snapped sternly.
"Hey! I'm not a child! I'm an adult! I've had sex before!"
"Shut up, Baxter, no you haven't," Grey stifled.
"You both think this whole cowboys and alien thing is so funny?" Jo moved away from the faucet and began approaching Grey slowly, with purpose and a grim tone, "Maybe what Baxter really needs is to hear some good ole war stories to really make up his mind about becoming a faithful soldier. How about that, Captain?"
Jo rarely ever challenged the Captain. She was not an especially threatening woman and she knew it--although sometimes unnerving in her demeanor--but she had her moments when her own pain could become someone else's. She could see that pain slowly return to Grey within his sharp, grey eyes while she bore into them. It was as if both could see the memory in each other's eyes. The faces, the bloodshed, the grotesque images.
The painful silence between the two of them was derailed by Tulu's loud clicking of his mandibles and small fingers; a habit of his that would either make such silences more uncomfortable or uplift them due to how distracting it was. Grey smirked and circled the operating table as if nothing had transpired.
"Well, if we must put away all hope of saddling up and becoming gunslingers, I suppose all that is left for us no good scoundrels is prostitution."
"Oh, dear," Em burrowed her face within the feathers of her underarm at Grey's coarse humor.
"Come now, Em. You're very attractive...for...a raptor."
"I suppose I'll take that as a compliment," Em sighed.
"I think that need not be last resort of ours," Tulu meekly butted in, wringing his hands bashfully.
Jo felt alleviated by Tulu's innocence as a smirk found its way on her once twisted, emotional face. "I think he was mostly being sarcastic, Tulu."
"Nonsense! The pay is good and all the work is much safer than what we do now," Grey remarked with a false sense of stoicism. Although crude, Jo could appreciate his sudden change in demeanor. He'd been tense even before the casino job. Although he didn't act like it, he looked tired and hungry; she knew he skipped out on some meals so that their supplies could last a little longer while the rest lived comfortably on the rations. It reminded her of seeing him back when he was in uniform.
She knew what he was going through, although he hid it well. The burden of being responsible for lives. He was reluctant to take it up again after he was discharged. He used to tell her of his fears and nightmares of being accountable for so many, worried that he was wasting lives instead of leading them. He was invested into each soul that came underneath his command, whereas she was not. While he somehow dealt with losing people she learned to become distant to avoid coping. She understood that his giving up on Mar may have been much more devastating to him than any of them really realized. Mar was a poor soul with potential when they found him, and now he was left with no one to follow and nowhere to go on a planet full of manipulative thugs. She rejoiced for not having to become close with Mar, making that moment so much easier for her.
Grey's glance met Jo's and she could tell that he knew that she understood his exhaustion. Although it was hard for her to convey without words, she tried to give him a supportive glance rather than allow her concern for him to be visible.
"In all seriousness," he said, leveling out his energy into an acceptable amount of somberness, "we have a problem that needs looking after. Em and I are the only breadwinners we got. That's not to say that each of you don't have a role on this ship...if you didn't, I'd leave you back there with Mar. But we need to turn our luck around. We need to get paid. We need to take ourselves and our work seriously. And I know that may seem strange...we're just a pack of stray dogs in the galaxy fighting to get by, not even really good at what we do. But if we want this life we got to last...of travel, adventure, with this beautiful maiden..." he brushed his hand intimately against the wall of the medical bay, though Jo knew he was referring to the ship, "We need to show this galaxy that we own it...at least a crumb of it before we actually get our fair slice of it."
There was a few seconds of silence for Jo to appreciate the words of her leader. They always inspired her, and she always felt his sincerity and optimism which was necessary for her well-being. Without looking around the room, she could feel that same hope he gave her resonate with the rest of the crew.
Tulu chirped, shivering with emotion as was customary of the Arthrak, "Very touching. So much emotions."
"So, what do we do now?" Baxter asked, "Where do we go?"
Grey took a glance at all of them ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair in contemplation.
"We stick to our strengths. Find work that we can do and build a reputation. Unfortunately, that does mean we need more manpower."
"I thought you were happy to dump Mar so as to worry about one less mouth to feed," Em quipped.
"That's why we need one more mouth that can feed two more mouths with their work," Grey answered, regaining his energy that lit up the room and resolved the hanging tension. "We're going to keep an eye out for jobs and for the right talent." He circled the table and grabbed Tulu uncomfortably close in a very manly one-arm hug and Baxter with his other, "But in the mean time, all I got are you two clowns."
"Ugh...I think not," Tulu shuddered.
"So...does that mean you're still going to teach me?!" Baxter interjected excitedly.
"Grey..." Jo reprimanded, condemning the Captain before he could oblige the boy's request.
"All in good time, kid. I'll teach you everything I know," Grey said limping out of the medical bay with Baxter still wrapped in his arm, "Women...guns...just remember, one is infinitely more useful, easier, and safer to learn than the others. In fact, don't even waste your time with figuring out women. You'll thank me later and you'll be a gunslinging, ace pilot in no time..."
Jo rolled her eyes in frustration before returning to her art piece that she had stowed away. After reprimanding Grey's encouragement of making Baxter into a soldier while laying eyes upon the young girl caused a surge of emotions to well up within her that she fought to contain in front of the others who remained in the room.
"He's not going to make him into a soldier, trust me," Em reassured.
"I know," Jo answered meekly.
"I won't let him either," Em persisted.
Jo nodded and examined the colorless child portrait. She wasn't sure if she got the face right. She intentionally made her mouth stern and smileless, though unconsciously she had sketched the child's eyes into a beaming look of pleasantness. There was a lot more work to be done on it. She wasn't sure if she wanted it completed or if she knew how to complete it either.
Eventually she heard Em's talons clicking out of the medical bay though found it unsettling when she did not hear Tulu leave.
She turned her head slightly, "I'd like to be alone now, if that's alright."
Tulu's insect like hooves clunked towards her before stopping just a few feet behind her and felt his dull claw of his middle arm pat her gently on the shoulder, "It is going to be ok."