SWNOVELS Chapter CHAPTER TWELVE
It was a long way back to Thosis and an even longer time since the Bessie had refuelled. Luckily, D00D had managed to identify an uninhabited star system in which they could refuel without drawing the attention of POP!!! Corp. It was a little out of their way, but a much safer choice than the surrounding systems. Van put the view screen on and began surfing channels. The choices were scarce, being this far from a relay satellite limited his options drastically. He found what he was looking for though, the Universal News Network (UNN). If Zeffross had already published the data, there was no way it wouldn’t be given prime coverage.
There was currently a story about the ongoing war between the Vysotropes and the Mossreans, the two races had been warring for so long that no-one could remember why. The two races had once shared a planet they both claimed dominion over. They fought for planetary superiority from off-world. Using annexed outposts to dwindle down the enemy troops in a bid to still have a planet to rule, when the dust finally settled on their ongoing war. This was how things had been for over a thousand years. Networks used the conflict as ‘filler’ content now; as it was still ‘news’ when something new happened, even if it was inconsequential to most of the viewership. Van sat on the largest sofa plant and got comfy.
After a while, Dallas and Yukimi came in arguing. Van rolled over to face them, this conflict, he hoped, would be more entertaining.
“For the last time, NOOOO,” said Dallas firmly.
“You are single-handedly slowing the advancement of scientific knowledge. How can you be so stubborn?” Replied Yukimi, with an equally stern tone.
“I don’t care. It’s mine and it’s all I’ve got, so double no. Just drop it.”
“Van,” said Yukimi, turning her attention to her audience, “your subordinate is being an obtrusive fool. He will not relinquish the herb sample he acquired from the Fuumolaans. I insist that you order him to hand it over to me immediately.”
Van looked at Dallas, “You got some gnome weed?”
Dallas smiled, “yep.”
“No dice, Yukimi. Also, he’s more of a tenant than a ’subordinate’ so I can’t ’order’ him to do anything.”
She let out a frustrated ’Hmpf’ and took a seat on one of the other sofa plants. Dallas sidled over and took a seat on the large sofa with Van and began rolling a joint.
“Oh, so you’re just going to waste it instead? Typical shaved monkeys!” Yukimi snapped angrily.
“Look at it this way; we’re using it for its intended purpose,” Van said, trying to calm her.
“Intended purpose,” she replied cynically, “I’m sure that genus evolved over billions of years, just to be smoked.”
“I’m quite sure it didn’t,” said Dallas, “but that’s why it was dried out and given to me.”
The two men high-fived, which raised Yukimi to her feet. Her anger could no longer be contained in a seated position. She was about to dive into a rant about how she was right and they were wrong, when the newsfeed took the fight out of all of them.
The screen cut to a security feed of two towel-clad men in a locker room. They appeared to be chatting when one of the men punched the other in the face. The punched man fell, hitting his head on a bench as he went down. His neck was broken. A blue-skinned woman came in, wearing a white uniform and helped the first man to put the body into a locker. The feed paused. The news caster paused for effect, before launching into her script;
“That was the scene just 3 weeks ago, when beloved philanthropist Arnold Tunt was killed while attending a day spa, to get away from the stresses of his constant charitable endeavours. Mr Tunt leaves no heirs, but has donated his massive fortune to the ‘Slake the Thirst’ Foundation that he and the POP corporation founded, just 17 years ago.
“His three assailants, seen here making their desperate, getaway.” The feed cut to a video of Van, Yukimi and Dallas, running for the Bessie, “Now have a bounty on their heads of 40 Billion Cha-ching.”
The three heroes stared at one another in stunned silence. The reporter continued; “The believed ring leader, a Mr Atlas Van Morrison, pictured here in a women’s uniform, escaped execution a month ago on the planet Thosisa and is also wanted by the Skolarean Government. His former employer, Crime-Lord Mondo, is also apparently searching for the criminal mastermind. Though sources can only speculate as to the reason. It appears that time maybe running out for the ‘Morrison Murder-squad’. Now, in lighter news, Fluffy the Squirrel finally lost his virginity today, when park rangers-“
Van turned off the view screen and froze. He had never had an anxiety attack before, but he was pretty sure he was having one right now. He could hear his heart beat in his skull and he was having trouble getting air, then, blackness.
When he came to, several hours had past. It only took him a second to remember what had happened, prior to passing out, and an overwhelming feeling of dread and despair covered him like a black vail. The whole Galaxy was looking for them. The number of people they could safely converse with had just dropped to incalculably low numbers. Their only option for survival was to set up a home on the edge of the known Universe and hope they died of old age before civilisation reached them. Not a feasible option without a terraforming device. They were royally fucked.
Dallas and Yukimi walked over when they heard Van stirring. He sat up and they took the seats either side of him. He felt a sharp pain in the left side of his neck. As he reached for it, Yukimi spoke; “I deactivated the EED while you were asleep, sorry if it stings.”
He rested his hand on her shoulder, “that’s fine,” he said meekly, “I guess blowing me up would be the last thing you’d want to do, now that your social circle doesn’t extend beyond the inhabitants of this ship.”
“I can’t even contact Commander Zeffross,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes, “I’ve been disavowed. It’s standard protocol when and agent causes a public incident. I just wish I knew why he hasn’t published the info on POP yet?”
“Classic super-villain behaviour,” said Dallas, “I’ll bet he’s working with them.”
“All the Commander cares about is knowledge; a corporate entity like POP can only offer material wealth. Even if he is as bad as you think, he wouldn’t work for them. What do you think Van? Van-“ She looked over and saw that he was perfectly still, only breaking this to slowly blink.
“I might have an idea,” he said, “We’re going to the crucible.”