Polaris

When Worlds Collide

After returning to the BeBop that night... Everything went back to its normal rhythm. Well, as normal as it could be. Hits and Bounties came and went. But, even with how little I interacted with him on a personal level, there was a strange void Tristan had left behind. Making me wonder if I had any signs that Jade Crow - that Quill - had been hunting him. That if I had known ahead of time... Could I have saved him? Would we still have been on that damned roof? Would I have had to make that choice?

Baltimore was dragging her feet about it all. However, whatever she owed Black Moon was enough to put her back into line. It was like asking a child, "Do I need to get mom?" All I had to do was ask if I needed to feed her to the Ravens only to get a panicked response.

But, in the steady rhythm there was comfort. A comfort that felt unnatural.

Where was the conflict? The desperate fight for my life? The past still loomed over me in every action I made. If anything, even more so with Quill injecting himself into my life.

Now that I had reached this place of comfort, I could go searching for answers to my questions. Especially with the search for me over... I could go looking for my killer, or even return to Heltix. I doubt Quill would have any issue with me returning to our home planet.

Precious down time on the BeBop would be occasionally interrupted with Quill storming aboard. How his lanky ass was able to even walk on the damned ship was beyond me. Or how he kept finding the damned ship was something that baffled me. Not that the BeBop was hard to find anyway. Knowing Jet was from Ganymede and worked part of the ISSP there, one could simply find his informant. Then bang! There's the BeBop in all her glory.

Actually the meeting of the two worlds was rather disastrous.

I was scribbling away in Polaris, enjoying the peace and quiet of the ship. It did disturb me how slow the BeBop was at times, but it gave the ship and crew its own rhythm. And down time was something rare that I enjoyed while the rest of the crew would bitch and moan. Leaving me to enjoy a little slice of life while the others desperately scrambled for something to do.

Quill had entered the living room with a flourish, his coat draped over his shoulders. This time wearing something that was far more like the Endrian. Wearing a white blouse that had loose sleeves, with frills around the wrists. But that only drew further attention to a small detail I had failed to notice during our little ramen date. The left being pitch black. Knowing there was an ombre of sorts up his arm, but the right was white and with its blue floral pattern almost looked like porcelain. The only hint that the protetic had been robotic was the golden trimming between the white plates, and on the noticeable joints. How he'd lost his arm was beyond me, and something I felt I didn't exactly have the room to be asking. Not after all this time. However, he had the shirt tucked into a pair of high waisted pants. Which had two rows of buttons trailing vertically. Tapping across the floors was his knee high boots. Being a matching black to his pants, and were trimmed with gold. Even the little buckles had been trimmed in gold! But to complete the ensemble there was a lavish red jacket that billowed behind him. It was almost like a cape of sorts with how long the damned thing was! Before I could get a good look at it, he rounded the couch to face me. Pointing an accusatory finger in my face.

"Get in bitch, we're either going for drinks or committing a murder. I'll decide in the ship."

"Quill! You can't just say that on the BeBop!" I cried, praying that he didn't have some lucious bounty on his head. Which, now that I had actually thought about it, I wouldn't doubt it. I had seen Red Dragon's capos go for a pretty price. The head of the snake? Would be worth double those capos. If not triple. The last thing I needed was the BeBop's blood on my hands. Or Quill's for that matter. Looking around the living room, he shrugged.