The Invisible Planet

Part 2: Angeline

Angeline stood outside one of Midelian's many travel ports, staring at the shitty yellow sign over the door. In bright red letters, it read:

AFORDABLE TRAVEL HERE

This told her two things about the business: first, that whoever was in charge of painting the sign couldn't spell. Second, that they had opted for cheap paint instead of a hologram — which, being programmable, would have allowed for a spelling correction.

The shady looking agency was far from her first choice, but given the circumstances, it was also her last.

In the door's shiny glass, she caught sight of her own brown eyes staring back at her. Her curly shoulder length hair was tangled and still damp from the rushed shower she'd taken less than an hour before. She wore a loose t-shirt and a brown jacket that was too big for her lithe frame, partly covering a pair of cargo pants that dragged on the floor. Her stomach turned as she looked at her dark hands, checking again for blood.

She took a shaky breath to calm herself and her eyes drifted toward the large holo-board advertisement just down the busy street. A white man in his forties with graying brown hair smiled down at her with sparkling teeth, opposite a smiling bi-species couple holding their arms out toward a happy looking child. The child ran forward, hugging the couple before the graphic reset and repeated.

GARETH CALLOWAY
Your New Family Is Just a Call-Oway!

She scoffed in disgust and turned her attention to the paper bank notes in her hands. Not many folks on Midelian still used the physical currency, but it was fine enough for what she needed. One simple transaction, a pinch of good luck, and she was free.

Her only regret was having left Benji behind, but he would be okay. He had to be.

She clenched her fist tight and pushed open the swinging door. A bell chimed from behind the tattered counter. The room smelled like old, musty carpet and a burnt out vacuum. The plastic chairs across from the counter seemed to have come from a distant century, and the peeling paint on the walls wasn't faring much better.

"What can I do ya for?" a middle aged heavyset man plodded out from the back room and leaned against the counter with a huff. He reminded her a bit of a hamster, and for a brief moment she imagined he had a whole wall in the back room filled with rodent cages.

"When's the next ship out?" she asked.

"Depends where you're headed."

"Anywhere. Far away."

He eyed her suspiciously, and then turned his attention to the holo-screen behind the desk. "Well, you're in luck. There's one to Corellia Space Station near the rim leaving in ten minutes. They're boarding now."

"That's perfect. Just one ticket, please," she said, setting the bank notes on the counter.

"No one pays in paper anymore. Don't ya have digital credits like e'ryone else?"

"Do you want the money, or not?"

He heaved a sigh as he took the stack and counted through it. "You're about two hundred short of that ticket, sweetheart."

She cursed under her breath. "Look, that's all I have. Can't you give me a break?"

"This is a business, not a charity."

"Doesn't your sign say affordable?" she argued.

He chuckled. "Can't you read? It's A-ford-able. The word you're lookin' for has two f's."

"I'll pay for her," said a kind voice behind her.

She turned in surprise to see a woman with a kind smile, maybe mid-forties, with sun kissed olive skin and wavy brown hair. "You don't have to—" she began to protest.

"Nonsense, mila," said the woman, speaking in a slight Kespian accent. Her consonants were soft, and her r's gently rolled. "You're getting on that ship."

A pang of guilt struck Angeline. "No, really, I'll get the next one," she insisted.

"What's your name?"

"An— Annie," she lied.

"I'm Marita. This is my husband, Mikel," said the woman. She stepped up to the counter, pressed a button on the device on the inside of her wrist, and held it out for the man to scan. "Three tickets to the station, please."

Angeline cringed internally, resisting the urge to warn the woman not to board the ship. If anything went wrong...

"Identification, please," said the man.

She pressed a button on her wrist device and reluctantly held out her left arm for him to scan. With any luck, the cops wouldn't put a travel hold on her identity until it was too late.

"You're all set. Head down the hall 'n out the back. You'll see the line."

She breathed a quiet sigh of relief and followed Marita and her husband through the back hall. Fitting the shop's cheap nature, the ship was parked out in the open air rather than secured in a comfortable hangar.

There were a total of fourteen people in line, mostly humans with a few Kaecilians. Their blue and green hued skin stuck out in the row of beige and brown.

"Next!" The attendant at the front of the line was responsible for checking each passenger's wrist device, which logged their identity and ticket. Afterward, they stepped through a scanner and onto the ship.

Angeline took a seat in the cheaply put together lounge, the only passenger space near a window. She turned to glance nervously through it every few seconds, hoping it wasn't too late, waiting impatiently for the ship to move. As it finally lurched from the ground and creaked into the air, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"This is your captain speaking. Our estimated arrival at the Corellia Station is in four days. The jump to hyperspace will commence in twenty minutes. Please secure your belongings and find the safety seats located in your personal quarters within that time. Thank you."

The jump to hyperspace was thankfully uneventful. Angeline left her jacket on the chair and collapsed face-down into the creaky, uncomfortable mattress. For the first time since she could remember, she cried.