#monthlyau001

[somatheking]

Seven Nights At Soma's

In which in a sci-fi AU, you're the new communications officer at the Beach, one of Hatter's luxury space cruises. As part of your training, every day you receive tapes from an old employee explaining the ins and outs of the ship. However, it's not long until things start to sound... off.

Disclaimer: I mention several canon AiB characters in this, but rest assured that they aren't based on anyone's portrayal of them, only on my own interpretation.

Day 1: Slate 1 - 15/09/2023

Good morning! Or good evening, or good night. I’m not sure when you’re hearing this tape but I hope you decided to listen to it first thing after you woke up, mainly because it’s gonna help you get through the day. 

First off, let me give you the obligatory greeting (I’m reading this from a card I’ve got right here, so don’t mind me if I sound too weird): 

Welcome to the Beach! Combining classic elegance and cutting-edge innovation, our space cruises offer the latest in comfort, gastronomy, innovation, entertainment and onboard experience. Our new and improved spaceships are also pushing the boundaries of sustainable tourism, by employing robotic assistants as personnel so as to focus on environmental well-being and minimising waste… 

Sorry, sorry, I had to cut that short because I’m starting to laugh. Assistants, more like ASS-istants, am I right? Haha, yeah, it’s a funny word.

Anyways, yeah, I’m supposed to give you a rundown on your new job, although it isn’t precisely new, is it? Hatter told me he was thinking of filling the vacancy with someone who already worked here, but since I’m the vacancy, I’m not sure whether he ended up doing that or he simply hired someone new. Still, I figured you’d need some help, so I made you these tapes. Seven, one per day, which would cover the amount of time we need to get out of the Milky Way and into another galaxy, and after that you’ll literally be on your own. Well, I’ve only just recorded the one, so maybe I’m here saying it’s gonna be seven but it ends up being three, I don’t know. I guess we’ll see! Man, I’m more excited about this than you probably are, haha. 

As I told you before, I’m the guy you’re replacing. I was actually the ship doctor, but the previous communications officer left, so I had to replace him. Doing both jobs and only getting paid for one, which is pretty rough, but hey, we gotta do what we gotta do. You know how in the Barbie movie, Ken’s job was ‘beach’? Well, mine is doctor and comms officer, haha. I was actually friends with the guy that left, and I imagine I must’ve spent so much time hanging out with him that Hatter thought some knowledge passed on to me. I have to say, this ship mostly runs itself, so I didn’t have much trouble. And you won’t either!

Anyways, yeah, let’s talk about the elephant in the room and get it over with. You’re on a cruise where the vast majority of personnel are robots. It’s more efficient that way; as I said in the presentation, ‘environmental well-being and minimising waste’. There’s so many I’m not even sure I know all their names, but to be honest, they’re not gonna bother you much. So, how about instead we run over some of the people you’ll be working with?

First off, since you’re a comms officer, you’ll sadly have to keep in touch with Chishiya, who’s in charge of logistics. He’s, excuse my French, a huge ass bitch. Yeah, that’ll make more sense when you meet him, but mark my words, you’re gonna hate the guy. I did, so it makes sense that you will too. I don’t wanna keep talking about him, so let’s move on.

Oh, these aren't employees but I figure you could say hello to them since they're pretty nice. Arisu and Usagi are this couple who've been together for what seems like forever and they're so cute. You can feel the love radiating from them, it's like they were made for each other. They are so, so sweet; talking to them always brightened up my day. Sometimes I got claustrophobic here, and when that happened I usually went to them to cheer up. They… I don't know, this might sound stupid, but they reminded me that there's more things to life other than a job. 

You also have Kuina, who is an absolute sweetheart. She’s head of security, but she’s always super willing to help out if you need anything and she isn’t busy. Fortunately for her, this is a pretty tranquil ship; problems rarely arise here, at least the violent types. There hasn’t been any fights breaking out in… months? Probably even longer, yeah. Between you and me, I think the passengers are scared of doing something illegal in the presence of robots. They think they’re gonna bug out or something and accidentally kill them. Boy, Five Nights At Freddy’s really did a number on you all, huh? But yeah, Kuina. She trains once every three days, which means you'll get to see her. I recommend you go talk to her, but be careful not to bother her while she's training! Talking to her impacted me a lot, made me consider a lot of things about my life, plus, she’s very welcoming and one of the best people here. A literal ray of sunshine. 

Oh, God, it sounds like I have a crush, doesn’t it? Haha, no, no, it’s not like that. Well… no, not really. Now you’ve got me flustered, though. I guess I’m ending the tape here, then. I’ll see you tomorrow!

[andromedagarcia]

‘Your mum came by. We had a very nice talk! She left a note for you.’

Surprise that left her blinking a couple of times in awe, unable to find the words. Her mum did… what? Andrómeda knew she was the only one out of the three siblings that lived in New Atlantis, and that her parents missed Hérc and Cass to death, but this was too much. With a strained smile and burning cheeks –she was only able to blush when it came to María and Fernando García–, she grabbed the slate her colleague was handing her and put it in one of the many pockets of her cargo trousers.

‘Thank you, I’ll… listen to it later. I have work to do.’

If the work consisted of boring patrols in the Well and it was an excuse for her to not immediately listen to whatever her mother had to say, nobody had to know.

This was Andro’s least favorite part of the city; the subterranean one.

A place filled with noise and people, most of them living in quite poor conditions. Like Cydonia, but on a different planet. Like Cydonia, if around thirty-five percent of the population was rich and able to live on the surface, while the rest of society didn’t even get to enjoy the rays of sun on their skin.

So, worse than Mars, even, and that was saying something.

Most people in the Well acted as if the Security Officers from the United Colonies didn’t exist. And that was alright with her, honestly, because she sort of also pretended to not be aware of… them. When she was in her nice, fancy apartment in the Mercury Tower, enjoying a cup of Terra Brew coffee. When she spent an amount of money that was, definitely, much more than those people earned in an entire month in a dress. When she went to expensive restaurants with her friends once her shift ended.

It was… uncomfortable, to say the very least. She had tried to get her supervisor to give her anything, any other assignment, but…

‘You recently got injured. The doctor said your rib dislocated and punctured your lung. You are healing nicely but you can’t be on the field yet, Andrómeda.’

And there she was. In the Well. In the year 2330. Stuck in a small planet while there were over 120 systems, 1,700 planets and moons in total.

But some people had it worse.

Like the Martians.

Her dark eyes traveled around Jake’s Bar, in which people were drowning their sorrows in beer, whiskey, or other liquors. There were also a lot of wannabe pilots, weapon specialists and shields engineers, hoping that some captain would give them a place in their crew. She would have to ask Cass, if she required any assistance…

There were also two men, drawing attention to themselves because they were laughing. Laughing out loud, in fact. A sound that wasn’t that popular underground. Most people avoided them, as if they were spreading radiation with that simple gesture, as if they had a deadly illness like the plague had once been on Earth. Her father, a history professor, had taught Andrómeda that much.

No doubt, something had happened to them. Something joyful, exciting. The taller one, a long-haired monster that was certainly over two meters and with muscles like those of a bull, had an arm around the shoulders of the shorter one, also muscular, but leaner. He was saying something, with a deep voice that reverberated in the entirety of the bar, but that Andrómeda still couldn’t hear because of the volume at which Jake kept the music.

His green eyes encountered hers. And they seemed to watch her intently, although the young woman was quite sure he couldn’t quite see her face with the helmet she was sporting, especially not from a certain distance.

Was she supposed to say something? No. She was here to check for criminal activity, for people in danger. She couldn’t simply approach two middle-aged men because they were laughing.

Maybe one of them had just become a dad, or something.

No, he wouldn't be so happy, then. Not if he lived in the Well.

───⋆☆─────────────

‘You are going back on the field.’

John Tuala –John for friends, family members and absolutely anyone after a couple of drinks–, leader of the Vanguard in New Atlantis, had called Andrómeda to his office. And there she was, sitting down in a chair, with a straight back and hands over her knees, trying to be the image of good behavior. Something that had made John laugh, but he hadn’t commented on it; there were more important subjects at hand.

‘Really?’ Andrómeda was wary. She didn’t want to get her hopes up and then… it hadn’t been the first time they had considered putting her back out there. But it had never been John to tell her. Usually a nurse, or a doctor, or some low-ranking member that should be answering to her, instead of the other way around…

‘Really. Two reasons: you’re accompanying Diplomat Airi Takahashi in Neon. Be ready to leave in a few days. She will give you the details of her mission, if she so desires, when you get there. Once you land the planet, you will act as her bodyguard. No, better yet, her shadow. Attempts on her life have been made, as you very well know.’

Andrómeda pursed her lips.

Of course she knew.

She had been the one to stop quite a few of them.

And still, she was excited. She liked Airi, a lot. They had quickly become friends, even if what had brought them together was Andrómeda’s work and Airi’s need for protection. But they were like-minded spirits, twin souls, people who were born of the same stardust. She couldn’t wait to see the Diplomat again.

She nodded firmly, for John to continue. If there were any questions about the assignment, she could ask them after he was done. He had, after all, said there were two reasons…

‘We are looking for a man. Goes by Vessel.’ Andrómeda raised an eyebrow, but remained silent. ‘An ex-member of the Crimson Fleet.’

That did it. ‘How do you exactly leave the Crimson Fleet?’ The Martian blurted out.

They hadn’t really become a problem until recently. A few years back, when Andrómeda was a kid, they were nothing but a loose confederation of individual parent captains; now, however, they were more or less an organized entity, that had expanded way beyond Kryx (what used to be their main base), all the way to Sagan, Cheyenne, Lunara and Narion.

‘Apparently, by hiding in between the cargo of a merchant’s ship and making your way to the next port.’

She was impressed (not so much with the tactic itself, but by the fact that a plan as simple as that had worked – and that still nobody, not even the faction he had once belonged to, had managed to find him) but she tried not to show. John, however, saw right through her, laughing as he said his next words:

‘That’s why we need you. You’re one of the best – if someone can bring this man to justice, it’s you.’ He rounded the table, to come closer to her and be able to look her straight in the eye. He did that when he wanted her to really see him, usually when he was asking her to take on a very demanding mission. Andrómeda had been slightly near-sighted when she had first joined the Vanguard; not anymore. She had had eye surgery years ago, but some things never changed. ‘The Crimson Fleet is also looking for him. You have the right to kill those who stand in your way.’

‘I will bring him to justice.’ Andrómeda declared. It was not the first time she had been sent in one of these missions. She had a reputation, and before she had gotten injured, her name was one of the favorites to become John’s second-in-command. She wanted those rumors, those whispers, to start again.

‘I expected no less from you.’ A proud smile, almost like that of a dad, even if John wasn’t much older than her. ‘Of course, if you ever need help…’

‘Can’t trust the Neon City Guard. Maybe the Rangers, but not likely. Safest bet is to try and contact any UC ships that are in orbit.’

‘Exactly. And now,’ John clapped, stretching his neck and back, rotating his shoulders. ‘Enough about work. Want to go get a Terrabrew and catch up?’

[airi-of-hearts]

✨🪐💫 A Field of Stars ✨🪐💫

A story set in a galaxy far, far away…well, many of them. Written for the aib server prompt: Sci-Fi AU

The view from her penthouse in Imperial City was breathtaking. Airi had lived there for a few years and she was still overwhelmed by the vastness of it. Coruscant, the Jewel of the Core Worlds; trillions of citizens, human and alien alike. The city-planet had become the hub of galactic culture, education, finance, fine arts, politics and technology.

But Airi hadn’t moved there to flaunt wealth or mingle with high society, her reason was more pragmatic: Coruscant was home to the Senate Building, if she took her Diplomat career seriously, this is where she had to be. She wouldn’t be heard anywhere else.

So far, it hasn’t been exactly easy to earn her spot. Well-established–and frankly, old–Senators are always ready to tell her she’s too young, too inexperienced, her ideas too harsh, too radical, too alienating.

Kovacs had warned her this would happen. Takeshi Kovacs, a former Protectorate Envoy turned bounty hunter, the man she once believed would be the love of her life. Even then, he had been just another man telling her what she couldn’t do.

Well, fuck him. Fuck them all.

Airi paced from the living space to her bedroom and back again, reciting her next speech under her breath. She would speak at the Senate the next day and there was no room for error.

She raised her voice when he reached her main idea. ‘Just because the elites have made Neon City into their playground where anything goes, that doesn’t mean illegal activities should be tolerated. Crimes related to the drug known as Aurora don’t affect these rich tourists as much as they affect the lives and livelihoods of the most vulnerable sections of the population, and this has to stop.’ She would have to modulate her voice some more, she was almost yelling by the end of it.

People–other diplomats, even Senators–usually asked her why she cared that much about a random city many galaxies away. Well, she would tell them, for one thing she was not going to stand for injustice anywhere. And for another, that was her hometown.

The pleasure city of Neon was a tourist trap that catered to the extravagant tastes of those who could afford all that the city had to offer. And for the locals? Not a lot of options outside fishing for Chasmbass, the source for the hallucinogenic drug Aurora.

Airi might still live there, working for Xenofresh Fisheries if she was lucky, if it hadn’t been for her parents. Her mother wanted her to have a real education, so she’d sent Airi off-world under the care of the Protectorate to study.

It wasn’t as if her life in Neon was too bad, Airi’s father worked for a ship manufacturing company and slowly but steadily managed to rise through their ranks. Meanwhile, as a young girl, Airi spent her days roaming the mean streets of Neon, befriending (or bothering) the hardworking denizens at Ikuchi market, mapping the Ebbside, even venturing into the Underbelly on occasion… and picking up useful skills on the way; she still had a knack for picking locks and hacking into terminals.

A soft beep made her turn around, bringing her back from her memories.

BB-8, the astromech droid that had adopted her (Airi was convinced of this, she hadn’t chosen the little round droid, he had chosen her), had stopped rolling around after her when he realized the pacing would take hours, but he still seemed to be complaining.

‘I know, I know. I won’t be too harsh tomorrow. Well, I will try,’ Airi said, patting the robot.

She hoped she could keep her promise. Her outspokenness had attracted attention from the moment she started speaking up. It earned her many supporters, but many enemies as well. Important ones, the kind who could hire someone to kill her, they had already tried. Why? Well, rich people don’t like it when their source of income is threatened. But as Airi saw it, getting that reaction meant she was going the right way.

Besides, the United Colonies backed her up. They had even sent some of their best Vanguard members to protect her. Which reminded her…

‘Cheer up, BB. We’ll go on a little adventure soon enough.’

After the Senate session, Airi would travel to Neon. She knew some Senators would demand tangible proof of the illegal activities that Airi was denouncing, they wouldn’t ask her to go to Neon City outright but they would heavily imply it, so she had beaten them to the punch, by making travel arrangements. They surely hoped she would suffer some terrible accident over there, but Airi had already contacted the UC.

‘You will meet a member of the Vanguard there,’ the UC contact told her. They hadn’t said who it was. She hoped it was Andrómeda.

Incoming message, the androgynous voice of her penthouse’s AI announced. Airi let the first few words play over the speakers before deleting it. An invitation to a fancy dinner. A date.

She had much to do and… Who had time for love anyway?

[cassiopeiagarcia]

Cass was crouching behind a rock, completely covered in something that she really hoped was not animal shit and something else that she was pretty damn sure was animal shit.

She was being as quiet as possible, putting all her attention on simple things; where she placed her foot next or if the terrain made any noise as she stepped on it.

She was outside of Akila City. There had been a sandstorm not long ago, but she had been able to wait it out inside her ship, Chaos, which also acted as her home. When Fernando and María had given their three kids enough money so that they could get their adult lives started, Cass bet they hadn’t been thinking that their middle daughter would go straight to the Spaceport and purchase whatever ship she could get her hands on.

A medium-sized one, with space for three people, white, with missile launchers and laser guns, with engines that didn’t allow her to travel too fast… but she could grav jump, and did most times, so it was fine. As long as she kept her shields up at all times, even when she was sleeping, she would be fine. Even if piracy was the new in and being a respectful citizen and not stealing other people’s private property was out.

But none of that mattered, now. Because she had found the creature she had been stalking for the past few weeks. A Mossgnath. A gigantic creature, resembling that thing that Earth inhabitants used to call dinosaurs, covered in moss and very easy to confuse with a rock, if they were young or a small mountain, if they were adults or elders.

They were nervous creatures that ran away whenever they heard the softest sound – probably their ears were overdeveloped to escape the beasts that roamed the area, like the Ashtas. Blood-thirsty, extremely aggressive creatures whose body was made of scales so hard not every gun could penetrate their skin.

She got out her sketchbook, and started drawing. Little by little, line by line, making sure the sound of the pencil on the paper was inaudible… at least for her. But the Mossgnath didn’t seem troubled.

The gentle giant was sitting down, munching on leaves from a nearby tree, being the perfect model for her artwork without even knowing about it.

It wasn’t long until she had finished – at least tracing the basic shapes, she could work more on it when she was safe somewhere else.

Drawing number one thousand eighty-nine.

When Cass had enrolled in university, she had never thought that would be her life. She hadn’t been particularly into sciences; in fact, she would have preferred to study art. But her parents had been pretty strict about it, wanting her to have a good future, saying maybe at first she could study something useful, just so that she would have a backup plan and then, perhaps, go to painting classes…

And now, here she was. Collecting data that she would later on sell to MAST, or to the Freestar Rangers, or to anyone who was willing to pay.

Observing things most humans hadn’t laid eyes upon.

[twentyfourhourtits]

丂匚丨-千丨 卂ㄩ

Sci-fi AU Narumi on Pinterest

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𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙣𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙

[j-ofspades]

💫🌟🌌 A Field of Stars 💫🌟🌌

Written for the aib server prompt: Sci-Fi AU

The dark helmet had felt like his very own prison at first. Restricting, suffocating, severing him from the rest of the universe. Now? The helmet was as much a part of himself as his own face.

Even if he wasn’t constantly on the run, it was probably for the best if he concealed his identity. As a Ronin, a mercenary, Vessel’s activities weren’t precisely legal.

Vessel.

That name had come to him like an unwanted gift, the night he had escaped. He’d snuck into a merchant ship, a spatial stowaway; there, crouched behind crates stamped “BESSEL”, the word got ingrained in his head so much that when he arrived at a customs outpost he muttered it as his name. The officer wrote “Vessel”, so Vessel he became.

It was very late when he arrived. Home. The only place he would ever call so. Neon.

‘Where it all began,’ Vessel muttered to himself. 

Years ago, he’d been a Neon Street Rat through and through. Born in the Underbelly, he couldn’t even say he resented his luck back then. It was a simple life but he was happy to have his family and that was that. He started working for Xenofresh Corporation when he was still a teenager, Vessel and his father hoped they could work hard enough, save enough, to give Vessel’s younger sister a better life. 

If he sometimes wandered all the way to Bayu Plaza to pickpocket unsuspecting tourists, well, they were to blame. Partially. ‘Fools and their credits are easily parted,’ his father often said, and Vessel had to agree. Not long after, his skills also included lock-picking. But even then, he made a point never to take from anyone in need, no, just from those people who treated his city as a dumpster where everything went.

And then one day someone noticed him, his potential, as they put it, and they offered Vessel a job. If he’d known what that meant, he wouldn’t have accepted.

The Crimson Fleet.

They’d introduced themselves as “independent merchants”, “adventurers with special interests”. Pirates, they were pirates. And Vessel had been fool enough to join blindly, not knowing that death would be the only way out.

The first few years went by, and while Vessel didn’t actively participate in the capture of ships, he did take part in the looting, telling himself that this was just a “redistribution of wealth”, hell, he was starting to sound like them.

Still, little by little the implications of his choice of life started bothering him and, although he wasn’t opposed to violence at first, he found himself very much opposed as the violence of the attacks escalated, especially when it was directed toward simple merchants or explorer ships. But he did nothing. He could do nothing.

Fifteen years later, he found a chance to leave.

Neon wasn’t a safe place for Vessel to be, no planet, no system was. He could run, but he couldn’t hide. The Crimson Fleet didn’t take desertion lightly, Vessel’s former captain put a price on his head when he noticed Vessel had left. If that wasn’t enough, his former association with pirates meant he was also wanted by the UC and probably every other faction.

That was why he needed to keep moving, going from one planet to the next, all over the Settled Systems. He could never stay still for too long or someone would catch him. Running and his helmet were the only two constants in his life.

But he couldn’t help it, he had to return to Neon every few months, for the same reason he had left in the first place: his family. Vessel still sent them credits whenever he could, in intricate ways that could never be traced back to him. Being a mercenary meant he didn’t exactly have a stable income, but he got by alright.

Vessel walked unhurriedly under the neon lights, letting people jostle him to and fro. He wouldn’t visit his childhood home, the home where his parents still lived. He wouldn’t bring danger to their door. Instead, he made his way to the Astral Lounge. The bartender there was his “friend”, which meant he told Vessel about the city, about his family for a fee. That was how Vessel had learned that his sister was apparently dating the club’s dancer. Vessel hoped to see her–without letting her see him–before he left. He had a job to do somewhere else.

As a blade-for-hire, Vessel preferred jobs for people who truly needed help. But he wouldn’t turn down a well-paid job when the opportunity arose.

Redemption? No, Vessel didn’t believe such a thing could be achieved, it felt out of reach. He didn’t want to be considered a hero. All he wanted was to help others, to take care of his family even if it has to be from afar. If those that wanted him dead caught up with him, all he hoped was that he would be able to take more than a few of them with him. Other than that, what more could he ask for?

[andromedagarcia]

‘That security officer is hot.’

‘Pete?’

‘I tell you, she’s hot.’

‘How do you even know she’s a woman?’

Espen Bakke was holding a glass full of ambarine liquor in his hand. The third? The fourth? No, not the fourth. Certainly the third. They were having a little celebration – their last job had been an absolute success and they had been able to smuggle Aurora (the drug that was fabricated and only sold in Neon City) into New Atlantis. Without getting caught.

He would have attributed it all to himself, but nah. Petrus was the mastermind here. The giant of a man had decided to wrap the drug in some sort of strange membrane. Apparently, a girl he had slept with once had been a MAST biologist and had explained to him between moans and groans of pleasure that some alien monster from the Aranae system used it to become invisible. Invisible! And that a few years back there had been a scandal when some crazy government worker had tried to sneak a few of them into Akila City, because the contraband scan hadn’t picked them up and… bam. Bingo.

The idea had been born right there and then.

They had gone to the Aranae system, killed a few of those giant bugs and taken their corpses with them. Visited Neon City, bought a lot of Aurora from street vendors, put the package inside of the alien insects and… the rest was history, as they say.

It would have been slightly easier if any of them had known where the creatures’ membranes were located, because they have been disposing of the dead bugs for days. But, Pete’s relationship with the biologist had ended the same night it had started and anyway, it had all worked out in the end, and that was what mattered.

‘She has boobs.’

‘Could still be a guy.’

‘Nah, that’s not a guy.’ Peter shook his head, his glass of beer looking small in his huge hand. ‘And if it was a guy, it’s not like I would care, either. She or he is pretty hot.’ He declared, staring at her ass as she –or he, it was damn impossible to know with that shapeless uniform– continued her rounds.

‘So, what’s next?’

‘Other than spending the money and enjoying each and every second of it?’

‘Yeah. I thought maybe I could go back to bounty hunting. My knee is not as fucked as it was before, so…’

‘You really can’t stay put, can you?’ Petrus laughed again. A laugh that made everyone’s faces turn in their direction. Whatever. They didn’t know what this was about, no one had given them a candle in this burial.

For all they knew, the big man could have just become a dad.

But no, then he wouldn’t be so happy. Not here.

‘Espen, man.’ A slap in his back, so hard that it almost made the shorter man spit his drink all over the wooden surface of the table. ‘Buy a succulent or two and relax. In a few weeks we can plan what’s next.’

───⋆☆─────────────

It was the middle of the night when loud banging noises woke Espen up.

He wouldn’t have been surprised; he lived in the Well. A person who had spent more than a year here would soon find themselves unable to sleep except with the sound of low engines, of constant chatter, of distant music.

But the sounds were coming from his door. A fist, hitting the metal surface of it, repeatedly.

He put on some trousers and went to see if the cacophony had woken his father up.

No.

The old man was still sleeping. Half-deaf as he was, way over seventy years old, this pounding sound was probably nothing but a low murmur for him. Wishing he could also be that lucky, he made his way through the door, already with a very clear idea of what he would find. Or better yet, who he would find.

‘Pete.’

‘Hey man, woke you up?’

He dismissed the answer with a wave of his hand. Espen didn’t sleep much, either way. He offered his friend a seat – he still found it extremely funny how the long-haired man looked out of place sitting in a simple chair, as if it could crash beneath his weight any second – and went to the kitchen to make some coffee.

‘Add a little alcohol into mine, if you can.’ Petrus winked roguishly, with a half smile.

‘It’s…’ Espen wasn’t quite sure what hour it was. ‘Early.’

‘Late for me, I haven’t gone to bed. Want to know why I’m here?’ It was hilarious. This gigantic man, rocking back and forth in his chair like a little kid who couldn’t quite stay put.

‘I’m afraid you’re going to tell me either way.’

‘We have a job.’

‘We?’

Espen would have expected Pete to at least have the decency to blush. But no. The man had accepted a job in his name and his smile hadn’t faltered, not even a tiny bit. In fact, he looked proud, accepting the mug of coffee in his hands and blowing off some of the steam before taking a sip.

‘Yes, we. In fact, they were looking for you, but I made sure to say I was your partner. We need to go to Neon, find a guy, deliver him to Kryx.’

‘Kryx?’ Espen raised both eyebrows, as he took a seat in front of his friend. He had also prepared himself a coffee, but he left it on the table in front of him, untouched. ‘Where the Crimson Fleet is located?’

‘Indeed. The person we are looking for used to work for them, but deserted some time ago. He goes by Vessel. He was last seen in Neon, a few weeks ago, but they say he’s bound to go back. Work’s kinda easy – we go, we capture him, we take him to Kryx and…’

‘Of course,’ Espen snorted. ‘Because he’s going to come with us willingly.’

‘No, but we are two tough guys.’ Pete flexed his, Espen had to admit, quite impressive muscles to make a point. ‘And he has nothing to do against us.’

‘And how much are we getting paid for this?’

There was no point in saying no. Pete had already accepted the gig. And even if he hadn’t… it was good to have something to do, to be on the road again. Not having work meant staying at home, and staying at home meant having to put up with his father and his incessant talking about his dead wife. Espen’s mother.

It hurt, just thinking about her. It would have shown on his features, had it not been because surprise widened his eyes and his lips parted in shock at the amount of credits Petrus had just mentioned.

‘Are you serious? One hundred thousand credits?’

‘I am. Six digits, baby.’

‘Get Venus ready, we’re leaving tomorrow.’

A victorious smile on Peter’s face. A resigned expression on Espen’s – he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and holding his head between his hands. Another contract signed. Another occasion in which his life would be in the utmost danger, and…

He just wished he could get rid of the excitement he felt.