By S. M. Jake
“528 Cactus, this is Quik-Warp fueling station, what is your routing number?” a monotone voice buzzed over the coms.
Tabytha cruised toward the little station, steering with her knees as she pinned back the sides of her awkward not-quite-pixie hair before flipping the overhead switches and poking the air-brake button extra hard to be sure it didn’t stick. Beside her, Boone read off the number.
“Roger. Fees for docking are thirty silver per hour. How long will you be staying?” the voice asked.
Tabytha flinched. “Boone…”
“It’s fine, Tabby. We’ll be in and out in no time.” Her brother raised the handset again. “A quarter hour, Quik-Warp.”
“Roger, Cactus. Proceed to bay Alpha,” the voice buzzed. “See our selection of frosted beverages, and thank you for choosing Quik-Warp.”
She aimed for bay Alpha, threading into the narrow dock. They ignored the groan of their docking clamps locking in—as well as glances from the station’s other patrons—running through their power down routine quickly.
“Boone, have you thought about what—”
“Don’t worry, Tabby. We won’t fill up this stop. The next leg of the trip is a slip-stream, so our milage will be great!”
“Boone.”
“Hopefully, we can get another lead on him while—”
“Boone!” She grabbed his sleeve, stopping him as he turned for the door. “What are we going to do if he is here? Have you thought about that? How you’ll convince him to help?”
Boone flashed another grin, but this one was shallower. “Of course. We just have to phrase it right. This guy takes on all kinds of crazy jobs. You’ve heard the stories.”
“You mean rumors,” Tabytha grumbled, leaning back in the pilot’s seat and crossing her arms. “All of which contradict each other. Or sound impossible. Who in their right mind rides a Terran water bull? Or hotwires a warp core? Or challenges the Triad? Seriously, Boone. Do we even want this guy’s help?”
Boone’s smile twitched. “Not like we have a lot of options.”
The tension that had been riding in her gut for weeks tightened again. Her voice dropped low. “It’s… I’m sorry.”
“Shut up,” Boone chided cheerfully. “No apologizing for cancer.”
“But—”
“Or med bills. Or Bratva loan sharks who blackmail you into marriage.” He pulled her up, flashing one more grin before leading her toward the docking deck.
Sixteen days. Sixteen days to find this legendary-slash-crazy mercenary and convince him to help them scrounge up the cash. Or break up her stupid wedding to a stupid crime family heir.
Inside was a stereotypical convenience station. Rows of snacks and spare parts, Kerulian jazz, the ever-present smell of hotdogs. The clerk ignored them. Three men in coveralls chatted in a corner booth. A couple, arms intertwined, perused the beverage coolers.
“This way.” Boone nodded toward the back where a neon “Gambling!” sign flashed.
Behind the first row of slot machines, a man sat with his back to the room, feeding a steady stream of coins into a machine. His blond mullet bobbed as he hummed a different song than what was playing, black and red duster brushing the dirty floor, leather boots tapping a counter rhythm to his humming.
Boone cleared his throat, tapping the man on the shoulder. “Excuse me.”
The man spun.
Tabytha’s heart jumped. Whoa! He was gorgeous! The stranger glanced her way, then winked. Heat flooded her cheeks.
“You’re Joe. Right?” Boone asked briskly.
“Joe?” The man squinted. “Not sure I know a Joe.”
“You look like him.” Boone held out the picture they had ripped off a wanted poster. “We’re here to hire you.”
“Kid.” Joe took the picture, chuckling. “You’ve got terrible timing.”
Tabytha scowled. Kid? This guy looked barely older than them. Wait. When did it get so quiet?
Joe swept a leg beneath them, knocking their feet out, both of them hitting the floor. Blaster fire erupted. Joe rushed forward, ducking behind the first row of slot machines, firing back with a pair of mismatched blasters.
“What’s going on?” Tabytha yelled, covering her head.
“Eh. The Bratva and I have a bit of a history.” Joe shrugged, casually firing a shot that was followed by a yell of pain. “Stinks that my ride isn’t here yet. But can’t blame them for these guys’ timing.”
The Bratva? They were the loan sharks!
Sparks and debris showered down as the smell of heated blaster coils and smoke filled the air.
“Tabby, come on!” Boone pointed toward a back door connecting to the docking deck.
She froze. She hadn’t wanted this. But now…
“Wait!” She grabbed the edge of Joe’s duster. He twisted, blaster to her nose, but she choked back her fear. “We can get you out of here.”
Joe arched a perfect brow. “You got a ship?”
“Yeah. A fast one.”
“And what do you want in return?”
“Take down the Bratva.”
Joe frowned, skeptical. “Why?”
“Because cancer bites! And so do shotgun marriages!” Tabytha yelled.
An intrigued smile grew across his perfect face. “Well, dang.” He nodded. “Deal!”
Joe fired a streak of shots double-time, and they bolted. Tabytha ignored everything; the yells, the gun fire, the hisses of the malfunctioning station; focusing only on her feet.
Around the deck. Up the air-lock. Cockpit. Pilot’s chair.
Boone smashed the dock release. Tabytha rushed the start sequence as they drifted backward, metal screeching as they ground against the neighboring ship. A quick swerve and they were pointed outward into the void of space.
“Thank you for visiting Quik-Warp,” a prerecorded voice said over the coms. “Come again.”
She punched the throttle. Stars streaked, the slipstream engulfing them.
“Tabby!” Boone spun in his seat, searching her over from top to bottom.
Tabytha waved him off, sore and heaving for breath, but fine.
“That was fantastic!” a laugh rang behind them. They both turned.
“Now, on to introductions!” Joe swept into a bow, blaster against his chest, flashing a smile that could only be called dazzling. “Cotton-Eyed Joe, at your service, ma’am.”
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What a fun read! A clever twist on Cotton-Eyed Joe. He is certainly the one you want to find if you are trying to prevent a marriage! Really enjoyed it.
This was so. much. fun. I loved all of it, the kooky sci-fi gas station, the brother-sister bond, the slightly more serious tone hiding just beneath the surface. So good!
Hot dogs in space–can’t say I’m surprised. Fun!
What a wild delight! I’ve got a hunch things are going to work out alright for these guys. Wish we could follow along while they take down the Bratva!
This is amazing! The mix of sci-fi and Wild West is an absolute delight! Now excuse me while I go read it again, but with a certain song in the background. :)
Many creative ideas along with some heartfelt stakes and a fun character.
Judas Iscariot reading this like “docking fees are thirty silver per hour??! Betraying the Messiah buys me a measly 60 minutes??” and he wept bitterly.
This had me laughing all the way through from “Proceed to bay Alpha, … See our selection of frosted beverages, and thank you for choosing Quik-Warp.” to “Because cancer bites! And so do shotgun marriages!”. I wanted the ride to keep on going.