ThatDeercat

Home Is Where The Starship Is

Zevrath stared, dumbstruck, at the human that revealed himself. The Serennian that trailed him was surprising in itself, but not as surprising as the human. By all accounts they were a nightmarish bedtime story, a fable meant to scare children into behaving. Except there one stood, in the flesh, right in front of him.

“This day just keeps getting weirder,” Zev commented. “This is not how I imagined this going at all. Pleasure’s mine, I guess. Call me Zev.”

Turning to look back at Kir, he stepped aside to give her space again now that he knew they were both safe, “I have so many questions starting with how did you end up shacking up with a broken enforcer.”

“You can ask me after we get off this station,” Kir pressed.

“Good point,” Zev nodded, “I’m going to try to get us out of here without raising the alarm, but I suggest you find something to hang onto. It might get a little hairy.”

“Noted,” Kir said, stepping out of his way to give him space to return to the cockpit. Turning back to Harrison, she smiled, “I guess we’ve got a full house. Glad you made it. Your clothes are in my bag in the kitchen if you want to go change.”

Humans and X’hondrians were hauntingly similar biologically, though there were some key differences in how their bodies worked mechanically. For example, X’hondrians had four heart-like organs that cycled their blood through the circulatory system instead of a single four-chambered heart like humans. Giving her attention fully to the Serennian that had come with Harrison, Kir pressed her palm flat over her chest, rubbing a small circle in the same direction her blood flowed before extending it as if gathering her hearts and offering them to the Serennian. It was an old gesture the sister tribes had shared as a customary greeting to each other. She’d been away fifty years, and depending on how imperial control of Serenfolia had changed the culture, it may well have been a lost symbol if the Serennian was particularly young. Past the age of physical maturity, it became difficult to tell just how old a Serennian or X’hondrian actually was. There was a time before the empire took X’hondria where the two worlds and their people had been close, and she hoped that feeling of familial camaraderie hadn’t been totally lost.

“My heart to yours, Serennian,” Kir greeted warmly. “It is so good to meet you. I couldn’t tell you the last time I had the pleasure of Serennian company. I’m Kir a Ka’illit.”

Home Is Where The Starship Is

A wave of relief washed over Kir as she felt Harrison’s presence again in her mind. She’d tried not to worry, but she couldn’t help it. He was on his own for the first time, and he hadn’t even been in space for a full day. Anything could have happened. For all she knew, proximity to empire could reset his armour and steal him away. But it hadn’t. Nothing had happened, at least nothing bad. Kir breathed out a sigh of relief and leaned against a nearby wall.

And then he mentioned Serenfolia, and it threw her for a loop.

“Serenfolia is X’hondria’s sister planet,” she explained. ”The empire took it after X’hondria. I can tell you the whole story when you get here.”

Kir shared her memories to him of the hangar and where exactly to find the ship, adding at the end, “See you soon, Harr.”

She quickly grabbed the bag she had stashed with the clothes, leaving it out on a counter in the kitchen to unload later. She hadn’t been expecting company, so she hadn’t bought enough for more than herself and Harrison, but thankfully the kitchen was already pretty well stocked for whoever owned and crewed the ship, so they’d have enough to get by for a few days at least.

Abandoning the kitchen, she peeked into the cockpit to find Zev lounging comfortably. A progress bar was slowly creeping across the screen in front of him while he waited.

“What are you doing?” Kir asked.

“Clearing the ship’s logs. Everything except the most recent manifest. Cargo’s already loaded for a job, so I figure we can finish it, dump the ship and buy a new one,” Zev turned his chair to look at her.

“What’re we hauling that is going to get us enough for another ship?” Kir raised an eyebrow.

“Smuggling pays, sweetheart,” he shrugged. “Where’s your friend?”

“On the way, and he seems to have made a friend himself.”

“This ship maxes out at four. I hope he doesn’t pick up anymore strays on the way,” Zev teased lightly.

“Guess we’ll have to buy a bigger ship,” Kir shrugged mockingly, and they both laughed.

“So, I take it we’re friends now, too?” Zev asked, seeming genuine.

“Sure,” Kir nodded.

“Do friends get to know your name, or do I have to keep coming up with increasingly more uncomfortable nicknames until you have no choice but to tell me?”

“Kir a Ka’illit,” she stated.

“Oh, a full name. You really one-upped me there!”

“Aenids only have one name,” Kir pointed out.

“Maybe I’ll be Zevrath a Ka’illit one day,” he tipped his head.

“Don’t get your hopes up, fungoid,” she smiled sheepishly.

“Got a boyfriend back home? He doesn’t have to know about us,” he teased.

“No, nothing like that,” she chuckled. “I like ‘em a little more warm-blooded than you.”

“And I don’t like an easy woman,” he shrugged playfully.

Kir turned slightly, hearing footsteps coming up the cargo ramp, and her smile widened. She could tell it was Harrison, and she cast a glance back at the Aenid, “He’s here. Come and meet him?”

“Well, we can’t take off for another few minutes anyway,” Zev glanced back at the progress bar on the screen. It was almost complete, but they had time. He stood to his full height, head almost brushing the ceiling. Kir had been away too long. She realised this as she craned her neck to look up at him as he stooped to get through the doorway. “Let’s see who I have to thank for liberating such a fine specimen of X’hondrian biology from the clutches of the empire.”

“Not the empire - technically I liberated myself. Earth.”

“No kidding?” He paused, looking back at her with clear surprise. “Thought that place was a myth.”

“So did I till I landed face first in the American southwest.”

“Huh. You really are full of surprises, aren’t you?” he turned back to walked down toward the cargo bay.

Kir trailed behind him, nearly plowing into his backside as he stopped dead when he saw the enforcer armour. An arm shot out, immediate tucking her behind him as he inched back a bit. His other hand flew down to the weapon at his hip, only for Kir to quickly clamp hers over it to keep him from drawing.

“Wait! Zev, wait! That’s him!” She cried.

“That’s him? You didn’t say he’s an enforcer!” He exclaimed defensively, clearly freaked out.

“He’s not,” she pressed, her voice flatter this time as if to stress how serious she was.

“Honey, you might need to get your eyes checked…” Zev muttered to her, still not relaxing.

Trying to peek around Zevrath’s hulking form, she waved at Harrison, “He’s harmless, I promise. You can power down the armour, Harr.”

Home Is Where The Starship Is

"You deserve to dress as pretty as you are."

The words echoed in her mind and she nearly lost track of what he'd said before that. Kir blinked a few times, colour rising to her cheeks at the offhanded comment. Quickly averting her gaze and playing it off as scanning the area around them to get her bearings, she reminded herself that it was probably just that classically cavalier flirtation humans threw around all the time. She'd seen it from the pilots they brought in to try and figure out the flight systems on her ship. They marched through the hangars with their chest puffed, all brash and bravado and dripping with charm. Their flirtations never much interested her - they were just another oppressor in her mind - but Harrison was different. He was empathetic, kind-hearted, and genuine, but even the most genuine people could fall into the patterns and habits of their species, so she convinced herself that's all the comment was.

"I can do more than read minds; I'm sure I can still manage camouflage. But, you're right. We both need a change of clothes. Or several, really. Give me a thousand credits or so and I'll get us whatever's in fashion and some food." Kir held out one hand to take the credits from Harrison, pausing to put her other hand over his before he could pull back and looking up at him with a look that shifted into a worried smile, "Be careful, Harrison."

They'd known each other less than a day, and yet she found herself attached to him. It didn't help she'd performed the X'honnar with him already, but even without that she would have believed in him, in his idealism. He didn't even know her and yet he tossed everything aside to help her escape, leaving behind everything he'd ever known on his home planet to flee to the stars, and his first instinct was excitement and inciting a revolution. He was, in a word, incredible. Harrison was wholly unmatched in her experience. A century-and-a-half of life and she'd never met anyone quite like him. She needed him to be careful and stay safe because if something happened to him while the two of them were split up, she honestly wasn't quite sure how she'd shake that off and keep going. She'd been warned as a child that the loss of a X'honnar bonded partner was devastating, and she'd experienced it firsthand when taken from her parents. Now, she'd formed the first bond since she lost them and she was desperate not to lose it again.

As they split up, Kir glanced back over her shoulder once more before disappearing like a ghost to stay out of sight. She remembered where some of the more respectable retail was housed the last time she passed through, and hoped things had stayed relatively the same in the past few decades. So far, nothing seemed all that different. Maybe it was a bit seedier, but as she climbed a few more floors up it was like a whole different world. Shiny white corridors were light with the bright warmth of sun bulbs that mimicked natural light, and well-manicured planters lined walkways and hung from walls. It was almost like a paradise compared to what she was used to. If they didn't have big plans, it almost seemed like it would be a nice place to settle down. Maybe someday.

Kir ducked down a deserted hall to rematerialise before stepping back out into the main walkway, dodging the busy passersby. As she passed shop windows, peering inside at the offerings, she tried to recall what Harrison wore in his memories. Although she wouldn't be able to match it one-for-one, she could at least try to find things in fashion that might match his tastes. The styles had changed somewhat, but not unrecognisably so for which she was immensely grateful. She'd been on the cutting edge of couture as a slave considering the people she served were respected and powerful, and they couldn't have their X'hondrian looking raggedy next to them. For once, she was grateful for that knowledge as she stepped into one boutique that seemed to fit what she thought Harrison would like and picked out a handful of pieces he could mix and match.

She continued down to row of shops, one bag in hand for Harrison, and eventually stopped into another store for herself. Previously she had always been fitted and her clothes chosen for her to match the style and preference of whoever claimed ownership of her at the time, and although she and Harrison were in a hurry to get off the station, she took the time to try things on and decide what she personally liked. Kir couldn't remember the last time anything had been her choice, and she was almost paralysed with the weight of decision. Choosing for Harrison was easy because she had a framework of preference to base her selections on, but for herself? No such preference existed, at least not in any well-formed way. There were colours and textures she knew she liked, and silhouettes that suited her figure, but beyond that she had no idea. It took time to pin down what she liked. When she exited the shop, dressed freshly in new clothes now with a backpack slung over her shoulder holding the rest of what she'd bought for herself and Harrison. It wasn't lost on her that the things she'd picked for them lined up quite well with some of the concepts artists had envisioned for what fashion might look like in the future science-fiction imagined, but in a way she thought that might provide a comforting sort of familiarity for Harrison.

Kir made a final stop at a provisioner to stock up on enough rations to get them to the next port where they could enter as completely unknown cargo haulers, no need to rush or keep glancing over their shoulders. She was careful to select food that seemed agreeable to the human palate and not just her own. The thought of checking in on Harrison crossed her mind briefly as she handed over most of the remaining credits, but she worried about messing up his mojo if she did. He'd managed to cut her off when he'd gone back in to the scrapper, and she suspected he'd wanted to keep his actions and his words private so she didn't probe when he returned, and part of her wondered if the reason she felt disconnected from him now was that same reason. Or, perhaps, she was simply reading to far into things. He would check in when he was ready, she reminded herself. He had the far more risky task, after all.

Keeping her head down and her hood up, Kir made her way down to one of the landing hangars to start scoping out the ships. She tried not to seem suspicious, but at the same time tried to keep her face obscured and avoid drawing attention. There was nothing that could be done about the recognisability of X'hondrians, unfortunately.

Row after row of bulky passenger cruisers and heavy freighters filled the hangar, and she'd all but given up when a smaller ship caught her eye. It wasn't fancy or flashy, and it certainly wasn't new, but it seemed well maintained. The long-haul light freighter style was easily recognisable. They were reliable and efficient, and usually had fairly comfortable living quarters that weren't as cramped as the shuttle they'd just ditched. Something like that could easily carry them clear across the galaxy, and if the took on cargo during the planet hopping, they'd be able to use that for cover and keep themselves afloat with at least a small stream of income. It made perfect sense, and light freighters usually had some defensive capabilities to combat pirates but weren't so souped up that their computer systems were difficult to hijack.

It was perfect.

Now she just needed Harrison to touch base with her again so she could tell him. In the meantime, she decided to snoop a bit. The hangar was busy enough that no one seemed to cast a second glance, and she simply walked aboard via the lowered cargo ramp as if she belonged there. Kir could only feel one mind aboard, and they seemed busy in the cockpit. If she was lucky, she could just hide out and wait for them to leave, or suggest to their unsuspecting mind that something outside needed inspection, allowing her to take over the ship and make off with it. Kir tucked her bag out of sight into a corner of the cargo bay and quietly snuck through the ship. She didn't hear the door of the cockpit open as she was inspecting the contents of a cabinet in the galley kitchen, nor did she realise she was being watched until a voice spoke up to her left and far too close to her shoulder for her comfort.

"You're not a member of the crew, are you?" they chirped curiously, head tipped at an odd angle as if trying to get Kir at just the right spot in their field of view.

Kir nearly jumped out of her skin, yanking a can out of the cabinet and holding it up threateningly. The Aenid held up their hands defensively, stepping back slightly as if to show they didn't intend to harm her. Their head cocked slightly further, their jaw dropping as they blinked in disbelief, and Kir realised her hood had fallen down when she'd startled.

"Wow," was all they said. Kir raised the can a little higher, and they pressed their hands forward quickly, "Wait, wait, wait! I'm not part of the crew either!"

"How do you know I'm not?" she frowned.

"Cause no one flying a ship like this can afford an X'hondrian," they shrugged as if it was the most obvious fact in the world.

"That's an insult to the ship."

"More of an insult to the crew probably, but my point still stands."

"So what are you doing on the ship?" she queried hesitantly.

"Stealing it. What are you doing?" they stated matter of factly.

"Stealing it," Kir admitted sheepishly.

"Well, if you're stealing it and I'm stealing it, then who's flying the ship?" they joked, laughing to themselves. Kir raised an eyebrow at them, but slowly lowered the can. "I appreciate that," they smiled gratefully.

"Are you alone?"

"Technically yes, unless you consider the several hundred unfertilised eggs I'm carrying to be good company. I am looking for someone to help me staff a crew, though. I'm not much of a leader myself."

"I never would have guessed," Kir teased. "You're sharp and more than a little weird. Would it be too on the nose to assume you're a pilot by trade?"

"How'd you guess?"

"A hunch," she smiled coyly.

"You read my mind," they stated certianly.

"Didn't need to. Pilots are all the same no matter where they're from."

"That's stereotyping." They chuckled.

"You started it." Kir scoffed.

"Well played. So, you seem more the leadership type, and you're alone. What's say we make an agreement?" They proposed hopefully.

"What sort?" Kir frowned, suspicious.

"I'll fly the ship. You do the leadership stuff."

"One problem," she sighed.

"What?"

"Two problems, actually. First, I'm not alone. Second, I don't even know your name."

"Zevrath," they offered.

"Not going to comment on my absent companion?"

"They can come, too," they added nonchalantly, waving dismissively.

"You're very trusting," Kir said, perplexed.

"You're very small. I think I can handle you if you try to come at me with that can," Zevrath mused.

"I can't agree to your offer without consulting my friend. I don't make unanimous decisions for us."

"How very liberal of you," they rolled their eye.

"I have a bad history with being ordered around. I’d rather not do it to him."

"I can only imagine. I'll be in the cockpit if you need me."

"You're just going to trust me to wander around the ship unsupervised?"

"What's the worst you can do? These ships have a double-hulled reinforced construction style. I'm not worried." He shrugged again before turning to walk away.

"Huh." Kir watched him go, stunned for a moment before going back to her snooping.

Deciding at that point it had been long enough, she reached out for Harrison, “I’ve found us a ship. And maybe a friend. If I share the route, can you find me in the lower freight hangar?”

Home Is Where The Starship Is

Kir briefly wished she hadn't initiated the X'honnar with Harrison if only for the relief from the inner turmoil of his emotions. Part of her felt like she was spying on thoughts he wouldn't have allowed her to be privy to had it not been for the bond between them, and the other part simply wanted relief from the reminder of his actions that threatened to dredge up memories she was doing her best to ignore. She'd have to teach Harrison how to keep his thoughts private now that they shared such a bond. Turning away from the scrapper, the angle also kept her obscured just on the edge of Harrison's periphery unless he consciously turned to look at her. From the outside, it simply looked like she was watching the door, watching her enforcer's back, but for her it was a chance to remove herself from the situation in a way. Kir breathed with the slow, even pace of perfect calm as she shut out the parts of her mind that threatened to run wild. They needed to get off the station first. She could break down later, but for the moment their survival hinged on both of them keeping it together. So, she made herself a stranger in her own body. Her fingers felt foreign to her, the pattern of her breathing was no longer in her control, and even the clarity of her vision felt almost fuzzy at the edges like she was looking at the world through a dirty window. Her mind was hushed, and memory no longer threatened to undo her. X'hondrian's had a word for such a mental state, though it wasn't considered a healthy one. Unfortunately, sometimes one was forced to make an impossible choice between survival and a healthy mind.

Harrison's voice cut through the haze, reminding her she'd asked him a question only a moment ago. Her grip on time had slipped, too.

"I'll see what I can find out." Kir blocked out the exchange between the scrapper and Harrison behind her, and instead focused her mind outward, brushing over any mind that was open enough for her to probe without much effort.

If the scrapper noticed what she was doing, he didn't comment on it openly. He'd led them to a cashier's counter and was quickly punching in the ship's information into a terminal to calculate the worth by weight. He paused, raising his head slightly at the question of a buyer for rare valuables, clicking thoughtfully.

"If it's shiny, Dello's Collectibles on deck sixteen - he's got an eye for rare artefacts. Anything else - pre-imperial books, textiles, the like - Kestor hoards those like they're gold. Last I checked, he was running a black market stand a few decks down," he shared before turning his attention briefly back to his screen. A few more thoughtful noises and he added, "If you want imperial credits, best I can do is four-thousand."

Kir, having tuned back in to the conversation after scraping what she needed from passersby outside, scoffed incredulously but said nothing out loud. "Not even enough to buy half a ship fifty years ago. Take the money. We weren't planning to buy a ship anyway"

"Not enough for anything in the shipyards here," the insectoid confirmed what she'd just shared privately to Harrison. His voice took on an unsettling edge as he added, "But I'm sure money is no object for a fine enforcer such as yourself. Of course, if you allowed me to inspect the ship, I could perhaps offer more."

Kir rounded again, bristling with the irritable moodiness of her disjointed mind and body as she read the thoughts spilling out of him, "You're a vile, greedy little creature. You're only looking for a reason to give us less."

And right there in the open was the reason why X'hondrians were so coveted by the powerful. A person's words might say one thing, but an X'hondrian had the power to see right through to the core of their mind. Few were trained to shield their minds with any degree of efficacy, and even fewer still were wholly immune.

The insectoid raised his appendages defensively and stammered a reply, "No, no, of course not! I would never cheat an enforcer!"

"Ah, a liar and a cheat," Kir pressed.

"Tell you what-" he started, quickly dipping to unlock a door beneath the counter and removing imperial credits, stacking the small metal bars on the counter, "I'll double my offer. Eight-thousand imperial credits. Consider it gesture of good faith!"

"A wise choice," Kir stated as she stepped back, tucking herself behind Harrison's elbow again to let him take the credits and stash them for later. Eight thousand still wouldn't get them a ship, but it wasn't a bad place to start. At the very least it was more money than they had when they landed, and that was a win in itself. Once they sold her old slave bands, they'd be well enough off to get everything on their shopping list before setting off on the first leg of their crusade.

Once they exited the scrapper's shopfront into the passageway of the station, Kir looked up at Harrison with an impressed smile. She still didn't dare speak out loud for fear of someone hearing them break character, but their ability to speak telepathically was more than enough for her to share her thoughts.

"You were great back there, you know. Think you can handle Dello's on your own? That seems right up your alley, Indiana Jones. Best as I can tell, most people around here will avoid you. The empire still hasn't reached quite this far, and most people on this station are either refugees or criminals. Either way, they'd rather stay off the empire's radar. Your biggest threat is the scummy dealers trying to jerk you around, but I'm always with you if you need me. While you're selling to Dello, I can take care of the shopping and start scoping out potential ships we can commandeer."

Home Is Where The Starship Is

Kir could feel the mistrust rolling off the scrapper in waves. In her effort to protect Harrison and ease him into the wider universe, she'd been too bold and too forward to come off as slave. Fifty years had made her rusty, and the excitement of freedom had made her reckless. She could have perhaps reached into his mind and soothed over the doubts if she wasn't so out of practice. She'd rarely been given a chance to flex the full breadth of her mental abilities since being shuttled to the underground prison Earth called a lab, and she knew he didn't have the element of surprise to give her an advantage. Brute force would have been easy, but the effect would have either been permanent - and outcome she found wholly undesirable in most cases - or it would have exposed them such that the scrapper would surely report them when he came to. Kir couldn't come up with a scenario where she intervened and they made it off the station without the empire aware of their existence.

As she continued to turn over the options, Harrison stepped in. He didn't give her much of a warning, though as it played out she was glad he hadn't so her reaction would be genuine. He gripped her arm hard enough to halt her, causing her to jerk with the force of her own momentum, but not enough to actually hurt. She yelped purely out of surprise, though to a bystander it would have been indistinguishable from an indication of pain. Instinct kicked in, and for a moment it wasn't an act for her. She'd learned in her years of slavery never to cower - cowering was a sign of fear, and fear was an exploitable weakness - but a show of deference could go a long way to curtailing further brutality. She shrank quickly, bowing in apologetic silence and letting Harrison take the lead before she straightened again and trailed at his heels. He would have made a good enforcer if his bracelet wasn't broken, and the thought sent a shiver up her spine. As she rubbed at her elbow, acting as if he'd actually hurt her, Kir resolved herself not to ever let that happen. She'd made a promise to help him remove it, but now she made a promise to herself to ensure he also didn't lose himself to that bracelet if the empire ever got ahold of them. She'd worried if they did, repairing the defect would cut her mind off from him, but now she simply refused to allow such defeatism. Harrison was too good to allow the empire to have him.

His guilt was palpable, and Kir hated that he'd had to act so uncharacteristically beastly, but it had the desired effect. She didn't need to did deep to feel the shift in the scrapper's mind. Doubt was suddenly replaced by shock and a deeply unsettled sense of unease around Harrison. Not quite fear, but he seemed more eager to send them on their way and be rid of the supposed enforcer.

"You were right, good thinking. I should've trusted you more to handle yourself. Your little show of force seemed to work. He seems less doubtful now and far more wary of you."

As they went through the motions of the transaction, Kir kept quiet, lingering decorously at Harrison's elbow. At some point they would need to nail down their dynamic if they ever had to play these roles again - and Kir felt certain they would at some point - otherwise they would both fail to play their parts believably. Harrison, brilliant Harrison, had thought to make it seem like they were new to each other and still finding their footing, and it had played very well in their favour this time. That probably wouldn't work again because they wouldn't have the benefit of the reality it was based on. They were still incredibly new to each other, and they were still learning to work together.

Slaves - X'hondrian or otherwise - had to bow to the whims of whoever owned them, and each dynamic was slightly different. X'hondrians had a strikingly unique appearance, and they were just as often prized for their beauty as they were for the wisdom gained over their long lives or the danger their abilities could pose. Each time they were bought and sold and passed around, they had to adapt to new expectations. Sometimes they were graciously laid out plainly, and sometimes it was trial-and-error to figure them out. At least this time she'd have a choice in the matter with Harrison to build the most believable cover story together.

"This feels like more your area of expertise than mine, but we need a recommendation for someone who deals in rare artefacts. Do you think we should ask him, or...?" Kir let the thought trail off, not feeling the need to finish it. Having learned her lesson trying to pose as a slave while also leading him, she'd trust him to take the lead on this.

Home Is Where The Starship Is

Sharing their minds at such a deep level the way they had, had marked Harrison with a permanent bond that allowed Kir to feel him approach even before he cleared his throat. She pushed herself around to peer over the back of the pilot's chair as he entered and settled himself into the cockpit with her. She'd been careful to retreat from his mind to avoid invading his thoughts any more than she already had; it felt like a breach of privacy at best and a breach of trust at worst if she were to listen to the innermost workings of his mind. Now, as he posed his suggestion, she almost wished she hadn't so she might have been prepared for what he said.

"You can't be serious," Kir breathed out, blinking at him in stunned disbelief. His expression never wavered with the flicker of doubt humans weren't quite able to hide, though. Eyes widening, she cursed in her own tongue before a laugh took her, adding, "You are serious."

She could think of a million and one reasons why that was a terrible idea. What if they were caught? What if someone saw them and reported them? They would become fugitives before they even had a chance to do something of any merit. Then again, she was a fugitive already - first from the empire and now from Earth - and Harrison was already a fugitive in his own right after the way he left Earth with her and was about to go stirring the pot wearing the armour of an enforcer. The the benefit of his armour was that it practically served as a get-out-of-jail-free card as long as they were within the borders of the empire, and frankly if things had stayed relatively unchanged, even outside the borders because no one was keen to tangle with the enforcers whether they were in imperial territory or not. If someone were to catch them, all he would have to do was claim imperial business and that would be that...as long as it wasn't another enforcer. If his armour was malfunctioning, another enforcer would easily pick up on it and haul them both in for a very unpleasant imprisonment. As long as his mind remained his own, their bond would hold and no amount of distance would be able to truly separate them or prevent their reunification. But if they were able to recalibrate his armour and bring him under imperial control? Kir didn't know if that would put up a barrier that even she could not break down...

She weight the options for far too long before rubbing her hands roughly over her face and groaning, "There are so many ways that idea could get us in trouble. But..." Kir hesitated as she furrowed her brow and pursed her lips thoughtfully, "Maybe you're on to something. The station was beyond imperial control half a century ago when I passed through, and I assume it still is. After all, if the empire had expanded this far, there would be no reason for them not to take Earth, right? No offence, but Earth doesn't exactly seem equipped to resist imperial incursion at the moment. Finding a scrapper to take the ship off our hands won't be hard - they're always desperate for parts and materials this far out - and once we've sold my...jewellery to a dealer on the station, we get everything on our shopping list and then we steal a ship and skip town. We just need to find a mark who would rather stay off the empire's radar than report a theft, which should be easy considering we're out in the middle of nowhere - again, no offence to Earth."

"I don't love the idea of starting our whole righteous crusade off on a crime, but I'm an imperial fugitive already and you might as well be one running around with faulty enforcer armour, so, really, what's the worst that could happen?" She mused with a shrug.

---

The rest of the short time that remained was quiet. Kir turned over and over in her head everything that could go wrong, trying to form a contingency plan for each, as she navigated the asteroid field during their approach. Luckily their plan to scrap the small ship worked out in their favour because it meant they didn't need to record the landing with the station, and she was able to bring the ship down directly in the scrap yard. Scrappers weren't exactly the tidiest record keepers, but most of the time no one much cared since whatever ended up in their possession was disassembled and sold for parts anyway.

Kir made a last pass of the ship, committing the ruined shell of it to memory and picking through whatever remained for anything of use. She'd ripped out the chip that stored the ship's data banks on it, deciding it was best not to leave that for someone to snoop through the navigational logs and it would allow her to compare what she knew to be true fifty years ago with whatever information was logged on the ship they managed to steal. She'd also managed to scrounge up a sack for them to stuff her old slave bands into so they weren't carrying them around loose in a blanket. It was already going to raise suspicions when they sold them, so best not to turn any more heads than they already would.

As they prepared to disembark, Kir stopped and turned back to Harrison, "Armour up, Harrison. You remember what I showed you through my memories about enforcers? We need to project a certain image this time so people avoid us out there, and unfortunately that means you're not my friend, you're my handler. I can do most of the talking this time, and your armour should translate whatever is said for you, but it's old and it's probably out of date, so if it fails I can take over. We'll be in and out as fast as we can, okay?"

Once they stepped off the ship, Kir became a different person. She'd been a lab specimen for fifty years, but she still remembered slavery. Whatever air of confidence she had melted away as she made herself seem small next to Harrison. She wasn't a fugitive who had escaped captivity twice anymore, she was the expensive pet of a respected enforcer in the imperial ranks. To have an X'hondrian slave was a symbol of status and rank, and whatever attention that drew would quickly be averted for fear of incurring the wrath of an enforcer. That's what Kir was betting on. They would be noticed and then quickly forgotten, and if anyone came asking questions, no one would be able to answer them because no one would have taken the time to get a good look at them let alone speak to them outside of whatever business transactions were conducted during their visit.

As soon as their ramp descended, the scrapper scuttled out to introduce himself. He had far too many legs and not enough eyes, and he made a chittering sound as he moved that grated on the ears. He was clearly flustered by the realisation he was welcoming such a high-ranking imperial enforcer, Kir cut him off before he could speak.

"Spare us," she raised a hand to silence him. "We're only here to sell."

"Of course, of course," the scrapper nodded quickly. "I can have it appraised immediately."

"I suppose you think he has all the time in the world? We'll sell it by weight," Kir scoffed.

"Of course. You're very busy with...enforcer business...I'm sure," the scrapper hesitated, wringing his appendages nervously. If his species could sweat, Kir suspected he would be dripping. "Right this way, please. Transfers are much slower; I can pay out cash immediately."

Once his back was turned, scuttling off on his too many legs toward a door at the far end of the scrap yard, Kir spared a glance back at Harrison to beckon him on as she followed the insectoid scrapper. She didn't like the way he hesitated when he spoke. Something about him put her on edge, and she had a feeling something about this deal would come back to haunt them at some point, but the only way out was through so they had no choice but to keep going.

'You okay so far?' She pressed the thought into his mind gently. As they walked, she opened the connection between them to give them a means of communication where they could speak freely, unrestricted by the parts they were forced to play.

Home Is Where The Starship Is

||Location: Sol System
||Time: Unknown

The cockpit was quiet and familiar. Kir settled comfortably into the pilot's chair and surveyed the control panel in front of her. It was a relief they hadn't really touched this part of the ship, or at least not the pilot's controls. She assumed they left them in tact for reference considering the secondary command station next to hers for a co-pilot was a complete mess. She clicked her tongue, displeased but unsurprised. At this point, she wondered if it was even worth repairing the ship? Ships were expensive - or at least they were before - so repairing would be their only option for the time being until they could scrape together enough money to replace it with something at least comparable in size. Scrapping the ship itself would bring in some, but certainly not enough to replace it, not with how outdated the hardware probably was or the current overall condition.

Sighing, she refocused her attention on the present. A new ship was a problem for the future; they had enough problems to deal with at present already. Kir tapped away at the touch panel of the control panel, bringing up star maps and real-time systems diagnostics so she could keep an eye on the status of the ship as she redirected power from non-essential systems to the propulsion and life support systems. Normally the ships computer would have managed that without any additional input, but she didn't trust the AI to still be full in-tact.

Once Kir was satisfied with the adjustments, she sat back and watched the small dot on the star map that indicated their position slowly move along the flight path the navigation system had automatically charted. All seemed well, and it was provided a brief moment of peace as she simply observed. Kir let out a relieved hum and stretched. They had maybe another hour at most before she had to start the process to make contact and get permission to dock with the station, so she decided to enjoy the respite.

Home Is Where The Starship Is

||Location: Sol System
||Time: Unknown

Poetic. That was one way of putting it. Kir felt like there was some justice to be found in the symbols of slavery paving the way of their ambitious path to bring down the empire and free her people. There was still a flicker of doubt that she was trying to ignore. They were two people, and they needed to inspire an entire galaxy to fight back. Maybe more than that considering the rate at which the empire had expanded its reach before. By now, it could be two galaxies. A lot could happen in half a century… She badly needed to reorient herself and catch up as soon as they hit Kuiper Station. Harrison was relying on her out here; he didn’t know the first thing about navigating the diverse social and cultural norms in the larger galaxy.

Kir finally cleared her throat and said with a renewed smile, “Considering the shape the ship is in, I think I should probably keep an eye on things up front. I don’t think I trust the computer to navigate entirely on autopilot right now, and it won’t be much longer before we hit the outer edge of the Kuiper Belt. There’s not a lot of ship to explore, but I certainly won’t discourage you from letting your curiosity get the better of you. I know how exciting this is for you. Just be gentle with her - she’s falling apart.”

Of course she knew. They’d shared everything, and his child-like wonder was truly uplifting to see and feel. She wasn’t going to squash that.

“You can come join me in the cockpit when you’ve exhausted every corner, if you want,” she added an invitation offhandedly. Kir didn’t feel like it was necessary - he was always welcome in her space considering she’d broken down the most intimate walls of privacy between them now - but she offered the invitation anyway just so he truly understood that.

Home Is Where The Starship Is

|| Location: Sol System
|| Time: Unknown

The clang of metal hitting the floor was jarring enough to shock Kir’ion back to reality just in time to hear Harrison. Her eyes snapped up, finding and holding him in her gaze. She took a deep, shaking breath as she tried to digest the gentle way he reminded her that he was there, that she wasn’t alone, a captive…that she didn’t even have to touch the bands.

“Thank you,” she whispered, scrubbing her hands over her face and trying to shake the anxious feeling of pins and needles across her skin.

“I didn’t think…” Kir’s voice trailed off, and she wrapped her arms around herself in a comfort-seeking gesture.

What didn’t she think? That seeing them would send her reeling back? That she would freeze up over something so simple? They were pieces of metal, jewelry really. And yet they weighed more than anything in the universe simply because of their symbolism. She was wringing her hands looking for something more substantial to add.

“Thank you, Harrison,” she repeated, unable to come up with anything else.

Kir sat there feeling utterly stupid and frankly a bit embarrassed for a long moment before slipping off the edge of the bed and floating slowly back down to the ground. She glanced at the glimmer of metal just peeking out from where they’d landed under the blanket when Harrison tossed them to the ground.

Swallowing hard, she managed to find her words and courage again, “I don’t think I can handle those again. It might be better if you did it.”

Home Is Where The Starship Is

||Location: Sol System
||Time: Unknown

“Okay, Han Solo,” Kir teased with a smile. “I’m starting to wonder if I’m just dreaming up a bad Star Wars knock-off, and I’ll wake up buried under that mountain like every other day for the last half-century.”

She pushed herself up from the sofa and stretched toward the ceiling with a wide yawn to break the tension she’d been carrying in her body.

“About another hour, give or take,” she responded to his query about how much longer it would take them to reach their destination. “This old rust bucket may only be a planet hopper, but she’s still got what I think you call FTL capabilities. At least it gives us plenty of time to come up with a shopping list. Fuel cells are at the top of that. And an update chip for the ship’s computer - no doubt everything is completely out of date, including the star maps.”

Kir’ion paused looking down at herself with a frown, picking at the thin scrubs she was wearing, “And I need a change of clothes. So do you or we’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

She made a look of realization, groaned, and rubbed her face with her hands, “And a lot of food. You eat…what? Three times a day? Four? This shopping list is getting more expensive by the second… We’re going to have to scrap every unnecessary system for parts to resell. I wonder if my old-“

Kir’s voice cut off before she could finish, lifting her face out of her hands and without another word, starting off on a beeline straight for the bunks. Her old slave bands would fetch a pretty penny if they were still safely tucked away. The upside to her last owner being a noble was their inclination toward the expensive. Climbing up the ladder to the top bunk, she felt around for the loose panel above the top bunk, pushing in until it gave way. She had to reach almost her whole arm in, feeling around in the dark until she found the blanket she’d bundled them up in.

Pulling them out, Kir unwrapped them and time felt like it stopped around her. Glittering in platinum silver tones, dappled with intricate engravings and jewels were the symbols of her captivity. The weight of them in her lap made her blood run cold in her veins and she swallowed hard, struggling to tear her eyes away from them. They were of no use to her now; she was free. And yet she couldn’t shake the heaviness that she wasn’t really, not as long as the empire existed. Not as long as Harrison lived under threat of being made a slave to his armor, and her along with him. What was she doing sharing her mind with someone bearing the crest of the very system that had brought her entire people to their knees and scattered them across the stars to serve at the pleasure of masters who barely saw them as more than tools? How could she possibly think the two of them were remotely equipped to stand against the empire? Her hands shook with the weight of memory, her breaths fast and shallow with panic as her mind reeled.

What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?

Put them away. Stop looking at them, she tried to will herself.