☆ ⁺ « 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐉𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐄
★˚⋆ WITH THE ADDED BOOST OF THE mag belts, you made it back to the Passione's slot in record time. Narancia skidded to a halt in front of the ship and you hopped out, going to grab the ship's hooks to connect to the buggy. The side door opened as you hurried back inside, and Mista stretched out a hand to pull you in.
"Fugo told me about the terrible plan," he drawled. "Everything that can move has been secured, including Trish and Coco Jumbo, who are strapped within an inch of their lives."
"You should do the same," you said. You waited for some protestations, but this was your gunman you were talking about, and bad plans sang to his blood. Sure enough, he was all smiles as you went to the bridge, where Trish was indeed strapped in very securely at the comms station, Coco Jumbo along with her. Fugo had abandoned his station to sit in Narancia's chair instead.
"No point," he said when you looked at him askance, gesturing to the dark engineering console. "I turned off the ship's engines to keep them from getting more flacked. Any momentum we get is coming exclusively from the buggy."
[ WELCOME BACK, CAPTAIN. ]
You frowned at the turtle in Trish's lap as you strapped yourself in. "Thanks?"
[ IF YOU'D LIKE, I CAN PATCH YOU IN TO NARANCIA'S HOLOPAD. ]
"That's what comms are for." Trish frowned.
[ WHY WASTE THE EXTRA ENERGY? IT'S THE LEAST I CAN DO AND YOU'LL GET STELLAR QUALITY. ]
It was a little creepy that Coco Jumbo had managed to integrate itself into your crew's comm system without your asking, but that was a problem you could deal with later. Narancia's face projected itself from Coco Jumbo's key in, admittedly, much better quality than the holopads could ever. When he spoke, it was as though he was sitting in his chair on the bridge.
"Everything in order? I've got two GA's coming in hot, and the buggy is vibrating something awful." Narancia's face was lit green and blue by the buggy displays. The familiar lines at the corner of his mouth when he was behind any wheel made their appearance.
"Do you remember the way to Sale and Zucchero's?" Trish asked.
[ A MAP HAS BEEN SENT TO NARANCIA'S HOLOPAD, LOVE. ]
Trish made a face. "One, don't call me that. And two, don't call me that."
[ WHATEVER YOU SAY, LOVE. ]
"Please be gentle," said Fugo to Narancia. "One bump and the Passione's engines might go up in smoke."
"I am nothing if not a gentle driver," Narancia said smugly.
"And I'm the Crown Prince," mumbled Mista.
"Just go," you said.
It took a few tries, but with a groan from the ship and some imaginative expletives from your pilot, the buggy towed the ship along and gradually gained speed. By now the GA's must have realized there was little they could do to a moving ship and given up their chase. They might actually let you go.
"We're being hailed. Looks like it's Asswipe," Trish called.
Beyond the buggy, you could make out the Ferry's exit in the ship's main window. Stars, you might actually make it. Cockily, you said, "Put him on."
Abbacchio's coldly pretty face appeared as Trish swiped the call to the bridge's display. You smirked at the red brush imprints running down his left cheek.
"Inspector."
"Stop your ship immediately and turn yourselves in to Galactic Authority custody."
"Blunt as always, aren't we?"
Abbacchio lifted what looked like a microphone to his mouth. He looked dead in your eyes as he said, "This is Inspector Abbacchio of the Galactic Authorities. I am now overriding Ferry protocols and initiating a vessel-wide lockdown effective immediately."
You wondered why his voice sounded so loud before you realized his voice had also echoed over the Ferry's speakers. That white-paneled room Abbacchio was in . . . Oh flack, he was in the Ferry master's office, wasn't he?
"Lockdown, lockdown, lockdown. All ships please stay in your slots."
The Ferry's doors in the distance were sliding shut. You swore as the rectangle of light grew shrank before your eyes.
"Turn yourselves in to Galactic Authority custody immediately," Abbacchio said.
"Why don't you just piss off immediately?" Mista fired back. "Trish, cut him off."
"You're making things harder for yours—" Trish tapped a dainty finger over her console and Abbacchio winked out from your main window.
"Don't sweat, Cap, I can still get us out of here!" Narancia shouted. He hadn't slowed down at all, even with the doors sliding shut.
Trish shook Coco Jumbo as though it were your pilot. "Narancia, we're not going to make it! Just stop before you send us to an early death!"
"No can do! Couldn't stop now even if I wanted to!"
Flack. This was going to hurt.
"All crew, brace!" you shouted. You screwed your eyes shut, unable to look as the buggy crashed through the doors head on. There was a crunch of metal and sickening creaking before the ship suddenly let loose and Narancia rammed a Passione-sized hole through the Ferry doors. Narancia whooped like a maniac as your ship was briefly airborne. Then it crashed down on the Hub, the shriek of your ship on its metal floor deafening.
You were whipped painfully to the side as Narancia somehow turned the buggy into a slingshot, slinging the ship to slide on its slide. The seat restraints dug painfully into your torso as the ship slammed into something, nearly falling over before it righted itself with a resounding clang!
It was a good thing you'd sold everything on this flacking ship. It would've all been broken to bits at this rate.
Your crew groaned from their seats.
"Everyone alive?" When you looked at Coco Jumbo's projection, Narancia wasn't even in his seat on the buggy. It looked like he'd ripped clean through the buggy's flimsy seatbelts and been launched backwards. A trickle of blood ran down his temple. Nonetheless, his violet eyes shone with a wild, frenzied light.
[ INCOMING PING FROM TWO VERY PISSED OFF MECHANICS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. ]
"What the flack is this?!" Zucchero shrieked not a second later. Coco Jumbo had split the call with Narancia between another channel with Zucchero and Sale. "I said we'd tow you, not that you could flacking ram our tow truck to bits!"
Now you understood what Narancia had been trying to do. Sale and Zucchero's hover-truck was a massive vehicle big enough to carry ships twice the Passione's size. Your pilot must have used the momentum of the ship and the Ferry buggy to slide directly into the truck.
Nothing if not ballsy, your pilot.
"Is it in the truck, at least?" Trish asked weakly.
"It's in, but at what cost?!"
"Please just get us out of here," you said, laying your head on your console. "Abbacchio will be out any minute now."
"Flack, you've got him after you too? You tryna get us arrested?"
"We'll pay you double," Mista groaned.
"Triple, you mean," said Sale. You were too bruised to argue. You could only be grateful when you felt the hum throughout the ship as the hover-truck turned onto the magnetic roads running throughout the Hub and back to their shop.
"A thank you would be nice," Narancia said.
- ✦ -
The Hub was actually meant to be a spaceship colony, similar to the one Trish had lived on. Somewhere along the way, though, some Upper Space noble had realized how ugly and terrible it would be to spend the rest of their life on this hunk of metal. And so, they'd abandoned it, leaving it to float the rest of life in deep space, because who needed proper disposal out here? Of course, that was a vast oversimplification, but with the Hub still fully intact, it wasn't long before thieving crews and other space ruffians parked their ships on the vessel and called it home. It was now the prime meet-up spot for people on the other side of Galactic Law. GA's hadn't shut the joint down yet because it would expend far too many resources for their fancypants, and anyway, the Hub would spring up someplace else not a week later.
You were pretty sure if it weren't for the Passione's extensive repair history, Sale and Zucchero would be out of a job. Besides Luca, these two had to be the most ill-mannered people in the galaxy. The only reason you went to them was because they could keep their mouths shut, and having other Stand users around gave you a false sense of security. You half-hoped a ship would explode while they were working one day so they wouldn't raise a stink when you inevitably found a different mechanic.
On the subject of Passione, though, Fugo must have been downplaying the flack out of her condition, because five minutes later, Sale was still reading out his list of repairs to you. With what you were hearing, you counted your lucky stars that she hadn't exploded sooner.
"How much will it cost?" you asked meekly as Sale paused for air.
"Five."
"Thousand?"
Sale didn't even blink. You winced. "Hundred thousand?" No reaction.
Your stomach sank. "Sale . . ."
"It'll cost you five million if not more. That's including the grief you put us through just to get the ship here. You're treating us like a brawl house or something."
You bit down your retort that Sale's shop might as well have been a brawl house. It barely resembled a mechanic's shop most days, with ships and parts shoved wherever they could fit. Every surface was greasy, and the oil and ship fluids that leaked across the floor had to be violating a dozen health regulations. Couple that with dank lighting, a perpetual wet dog smell, sparks flying down from the ceiling, and cranky vents, equipment and mechanics, and you had the delightful business that was Sale and Zucchero's mech shop. You had nearly cried when the pair of them had strung up the Passione to be hoisted on their lift. You hated it when they did that. It made your ship look like an animal carcass about to be chopped for parts.
"Isn't that a bit much?"
You and Sale looked up at the new voice. A boy in greasy coveralls ducked his head at the attention. He must have been cleaning up somewhere in the shop. You hadn't noticed him when you came in.
"Piss off, kid. This doesn't concern you. Or do you run this shop now?"
The boy's cheeks flushed. You'd never seen him in the mechanic's shop before. His scruffy black hair was in need of a trim and his posture was abhorrent. If you had to take a stab at his age, you'd put him around sixteen.
"No, sir. Sorry, sir."
Sale sucked his teeth. "That's what I thought. Go clean by the lifts. You never mopped up that coolant leak."
The boy scurried away. How he'd found work with the two mechanics from hell was anyone's guess.
"Practically everything on the ship is flacked," Zucchero called, still inspecting the ship above you. "We're gonna have to tear her apart and rebuild her from the inside. It might be easier to just buy a new ship at this point."
You shook your head. "Absolutely not. That's out of the question." You were being unreasonable, but you didn't care. No matter how bad it got, you would not part with the Passione. She was a crew member. You wouldn't abandon her, not after everything you'd been through and all you'd done to get her.
"She needs to be done by the time Zero's banquet is over," you said.
Zucchero hopped down from where he'd been inspecting the Passione's hull. "That's barely a week. You think we work on stardust or something?"
"I need it by then. I'll pay you seven mil."
Sale cut you a side-eye. "And where are you getting that kind of cred?"
You hesitated, wondering if it would be worth it to tell them. If all went well, the entire galaxy would know eventually.
"My crew is going to get a job from Zero."
The two mechanics looked at each other. Then they burst into raucous laughter. You heard a clatter as their assistant stumbled over something.
"Captain thinks they're a comedian now!" Zucchero howled.
Sale wheezed. "Acting like Zero called them up for an appointment or something!"
Your lips pursed together. You waited for the two men to settle down, glaring all the while. You'd taken enough flack from your crew already. You didn't need these two shitting on your plan either.
"Stars, you're serious, aren't you?" Sale said. "You're going to Zero?"
"That's what I said," you gritted out. "He'll pay us in advance. Once the banquet is over and the ship is fixed, you'll get your cred."
"Screw that!" Zucchero said. "You're totally flacked! If Zero's giving jobs to you, we should go ask him for one too!" Sale and Zucchero started cackling again.
"You don't think we can do it?"
"Hell no! If you got a job from Zero, we'd do your repairs for free!" Sale exclaimed.
"Is that a promise?" You raised an eyebrow.
"Why are you acting like that would ever happen? Aren't you already up to your neck in debt? Read the signs, Cap! It's time to throw your ship in the junk heap and retire!"
You wanted to deck Zucchero in the face so bad. Instead, you turned on your heel. "Start the repairs. I'll see you after the banquet."
"You're flacked!" Sale shouted after you. "Zero will never give you a job!"
The two mechanics' jeers rang in your ears. You kept your head high, refusing to give them the satisfaction. As you left, you passed by their new assistant. He watched you go with an unreadable expression, hair falling into his green eyes. He didn't quite smile, but he gave you a look that was almost sheepish. Like he was sorry for the mechanics' behaviour.
Don't feel sorry for me, kid, you thought. You're the one working for them.
- ✦ -
For the time being, your crew was holed out in a dilapidated motel on the outskirts of the Hub. As you bypassed the greasy reception bot, you caught your name flashing on the holopad on the opposite wall.
Thieving crew escaped from the Ferry. All Hub residents are advised to be on watch and exercise caution. Heightened security will be in place for the Galactic Ball.
News travelled fast in space, didn't it?
The reception bot beeped for your name. It was such an old model that its display briefly winked out when you whacked it. You made sure the coast was clear before you counted down the doors until you found the room Fugo had messaged to you.
2044. Mista must be throwing a fit.
The door slid open to reveal that Mista was throwing a fit. It just wasn't about the room number. This time.
The room could barely be called that. Beige walls, two dingy cots and a chest of drawers against the far wall. Trish had claimed one of the cots for herself, Coco Jumbo lying on her stomach, while Narancia and Fugo's heads were bent over his holopad on the floor in the far corner. Mista was sprawled on the other cot and his face contorted every time Luca's prickly voice floated out from his holopad.
"Since when do we go by your schedule you bag of flack? We're on the Hub and we need things fenced. We don't have time to wait for you." For the benefit of the crew, Mista had his holopad on speaker.
"I'm telling you I don't have the creds right now. You came at a bad time. I can't get the funds to you until after the banquet."
"That defeats the purpose, doesn't it?" Mista snapped.
"You should've been smart enough not to come before Zero's banquet. It's a shitshow out here. All my orders are going haywire and I need to pay close attention to make sure my numbers stay straight. I don't need you coming in and screwing things up. Your goods always mess with my stock."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Don't twist your panties. It's just a bad time and I can't fence anything for you, sorry. Find some other schmuck."
"A million credits, Luca. We need it by tomorrow."
"It's already three in the morning, smartass. What have you even got that will fetch that much?"
Mista snorted. "Oh, we've got something, don't you worry. I'm sure you can spare a million credits. When have we ever sold you short?"
The answer was never, but Luca still took a moment to think about it, the bastard.
"Alright, fine. But only because I'm such a kind soul. I can meet you at noon tomorrow. My place."
Mista wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, sure. Me and the Cap will be there."
"The Cap?" Luca's voice suddenly turned syrupy sweet. "They missed me, huh? You know, they can come on their own. My door is always open for that fine piece. I'll throw in a few extra services besides the fencing, if you catch my meaning. Do they still fill out that jumpsuit?"
Mista looked like someone had kicked him in the balls. Trish barked a laugh into her pillow while Narancia and Fugo threw a look in your direction.
"Okay, yeah, see you tomorrow," Mista quickly. He ended the call and flung his holopad down beside him with a groan. "Flack, I hate that guy. If one of his boys don't murder him one day, I will."
"That's why I never go see him," Trish said sweetly. She rolled over onto her side. "What are we fencing for one mil anyway?"
"The cricket ball and a few antique rings I still had in Party Rock Anthem," you said. You settled yourself beside Mista. "You'll never guess what Sale and Zucchero told me."
"They ripped you off, didn't they?" Fugo said, not looking up. "They always charge twice what the repairs actually are. I always tell you."
You couldn't help sounding smug. "This time you won't have to worry about that. We're not paying a credit for repairs."
"What do you mean?" Narancia asked.
"Sale and Zucchero said our repairs would be covered if we could get a job from Zero."
Mista sat up. "They said that?"
"Sure did. That's one thing off our list. We just need to go see Luca and get things ready for the banquet."
Your crew traded glances. You were a little hurt by how dubious they all looked.
"How much did they say the repairs would cost without Zero, though?" Trish asked hesitantly.
"Screw that, how much did you offer?" Narancia cut in.
Suddenly the captain bravado you wore like a second skin slid off. You swallowed, bracing yourself.
"I told them we'd pay seven mil."
"Captain," Mista groaned.
"They kept saying there wasn't a black hole's chance that we'd get a job from Zero and I got pissed! The repairs would have been at least five mil according to Sale, overestimate or not." There had been a time when such sums would have been nothing. You'd gotten too used to throwing down thousands and millions. Now just the thought of five mil made you balk and wonder how your account could ever hold that much. The crew seemed to realize jacking up the price didn't make that much of a difference in the end and the grumblings died down.
"Well, I'm working on getting floor plans for the venue Zero's using," Fugo said. "Narancia and I were planning on going to his little museum tomorrow to see what his most valuable item is."
"I'll be picking up supplies and clothes," Trish said. "And arranging transport and escape routes. Thankfully people happen to be more lenient during parties. Coco Jumbo's been telling me some names we could use. There's this group of investors that I think would work."
[ INDEED, PHILIP GLASS AND JERICK CAGE ARE UP AND COMING INVESTORS. THEIR INVITES "ACCIDENTALLY" CORRUPTED TODAY FOR WHATEVER REASON, SO THEY WON'T BE ABLE TO COME. ]
You imagined that if Coco Jumbo could shrug, it would have.
"Things are moving along," you said. You tried to suppress a yawn but was unsuccessful.
"We should get some shut-eye," Mista said, picking up your yawn. "Now, before Asswipe comes around."
"I'll take first watch—" you didn't even get to finish your sentence before Mista was draping the scratchy blanket over you and tossing the pillows down to Fugo and Narancia. He waved his hand for the light to turn off.
"Nighty-nighty, troopers. Trish, I'm taking the turtle."
"Be my guest," Trish said, throwing her pillow down to Fugo and Narancia as well. She passed off Coco Jumbo and quiet descended as Mista left the room.
"Mista never takes first watch," Fugo said. He was right, but your eyes were already sliding closed.
It had been a rough night. Mista was probably just restless.
- ✦ -
NEXT CHAPTER ─
❝ I WON'T TOUCH A HAIR ON HIS HEAD. I NEED THE CREDIT AS MUCH AS YOU. ❞
☆ ⁺ ⠀«⠀ RAGDOLL IN CRANBERRY JUICE