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"Good to meet you Skipper," the Meldobian replied, gripping Heb's hand warmly. "Terrbo Denane, folks around here just call me Bo."
Cherry found she wasn't really sure what to do with her face. She'd spent so long preparing herself to meet some dangerous, hardened criminal who would be just as much a threat to them as he was to poor Phil. Bo couldn't have been further from her expectations. He was positively friendly, and her instinct with friendly people was to smile.
"My crew," Heb said, his face serious and solemn, "Tor Laudsen, Fem Getter, Cherry Rosso."
"Good to meet you," Bo said, aiming a courteous nod in their direction. "Listen Skipper, all of you," he went on, "especially you Ms Rosso, I know you won't be looking forward to what you came here to do. I know it'll be hard for you. I want you to know I'll do everything I can to make this as easy as possible, as... painless as possible. Come on, take a load off."
As he led them back to the area he'd been seated with the human and the Azurian, Cherry and her crew mates shared somewhat confused looks that concluded with Heb shrugging as if to say, let's just go with hit.
"Thank you Mr Denane," Cherry said, in that spirit, "and please, call me Cherry."
"Only if you call me Bo," the Meldobian said, smiling warmly at her, "never met this Mr Denane myself," he went on, chuckling.
"Sure... Bo," Cherry replied, unable to resist a chuckle of her own.
"Artie," Bo called towards the bar, "some drinks for my friends here, they've had a long journey."
"Sure thing Bo," the human bar tender called back.
Cherry felt strange. She'd scarcely ever had an experience that was so far from her expectation as this one and her mind struggled with how to adapt. So she reverted a little to type, that is, she decided to just be herself.
"If you don't mind my asking Bo," she said, sitting forward a little, "I couldn't help overhear your conversation with those two guys who just left, or part of it anyway... you mentioned kids? Is... is everything OK?"
The Meldobian sighed and sank back heavily into his seat but Cherry was pleased to see he didn't show any agitation at the nature of her question. It was only after she'd asked it that she reasoned it might not have been a great idea to tell a mobster you were eavesdropping on him.
"The kids," Bo mused, "yeah. Well... I guess it won't have escaped your notice that AC4 is what some people might call a total fucking shithole. Thanks Artie." He smiled wryly at them as the bar tender dropped off their drinks. "See, the governments who first established this colony cut and run as soon as the water and the weather went to shit, practically the whole damn planet turned to desert. They'd gotten enough lithium out of the ground by then to make up for their investment so they just cut the planet loose, left the settlers to fend for themselves. And in the absence of... proper authority, less reputable elements, these huge conglomerates, took over the mining operations, the bigger ones anyway. And they give zero fucks about the workers they send down there."
"Bastards," Tor said, almost automatically and Cherry nearly laughed as his face quickly registered shock that he'd said it and fear that he might have caused offence.
"Damn straight Tor," Bo said, nodding seriously, "complete fucking bastards. The... organization I work for is here to try to change that. Make life a little better for the folks who call this godforsaken rock home. I'm here a little over a year now and let me tell you, the folks here, they're good people."
"And... the kids..." Cherry asked.
"Well, given the way most of the mining ops here are run, there are, as you might imagine, quite a lot of accidents, a lot of kids left without a mom or a dad or... both. There are other problems here too, social problems, but the mining conglomerates are the root of it. And they don't give a shit about the kids. The Worker's Co-Op tries to take care of them, scrounging whatever money they can. They have a place a few blocks from here, an orphanage I guess. It's not much, but it's more of a home than those kids would have if the workers hadn't stepped up. And that asshole Ressik, he runs things for one of the bigger concerns, he's trying to tear it down to build himself a new fucking palace. I shit you not. Kicking out orphans to build himself a palace. Anyway... I'm trying to get him to change his mind."
"Right," Cherry said, a little absently. The more they talked, the more confused she got. Bo was meant to be the representative of a nefarious criminal gang but he sounded more like some kind of freedom fighter, the people's champion. And it was this thought that led her to ask her next question.
"Bo..." she began tentatively, "if you don't mind my asking... the... organization you work for..."
"I know what my people's reputation is Cherry," he said, flatly but without reproach. "Don't believe everything you hear. You can call us whatever you like, but we're a business just like any other. One that believes it's better for everyone when the people who work for us can live safe and happy lives. If we take control of the mining operations on this planet, yes we'll make a fuck ton of money, but the people here will also be a lot better off. I'll fucking see to that."
"Well," Heb reflected solemnly, "looks like you're doing important work here Bo. I wish you the best of luck with it..."
"But that's not what you're here for," Bo concluded, "I get it Skip. Let's talk business then."
The rest of their conversation was much more focused on the topic at hand. Cherry found it difficult to focus at times. Given how different Bo was to what she'd expected, she found her mind constantly tugged in the direction of her curiosity about him.
He looked exactly how SARA had shown her a Meldobian should look, easily a foot taller than even Tor, the tallest of E16's crew. She'd encountered species generally taller than humans before but had always thought them somehow ungainly. With Bo though, her natural reaction was of a man comfortable in his skin, exactly as he should be. The sheer black garment he wore that seemed to cling to ever inch of his taut body tugged at her eyes. Internally, she acknowledged that the intricate patterns that laced across his purple flesh, at least that portion of it that she could see, were a little mesmerizing. She chastised herself for stray thoughts about how much leg and how much cleavage she was showing. She couldn't avoid the fact that she wanted him to notice her.
And when they talked business, Bo's attention to detail and focus were just as attractive to her. Clearly, he was in command of himself and his would-be fiefdom.
Through his network of informants and contacts, he had been able to straightforwardly trace Phil's arrival on planet. Given the nature of life on AC4, newly arriving immigrants were few and far between. From there, it wasn't hard for Bo's people to identify Phil boarding a shuttle for an area known as the Western Wastes.
"They're... the bad lands essentially, bandit country," Bo explained, "way out in the desert. The mining operations out there weren't profitable enough for the conglomerates, too much overhead, too hard to transport supplies and ore, but there are a handful or lunatics who think they can make a go of it. And the desert between here and there is pock marked with random settlements, outlaws and crazies, desperately trying to eek a living out of the sand. It's not a fun place."
"How do we get out there?" Fem asked.
"I can get us a shuttle," Bo replied, sitting forward, "but it's dangerous. Some of the desert factions have pretty advanced weaponry. Unless they know you, there's a decent chance they'll try and shoot you down. I have something of a relationship with the guy in charge of the settlement this Phil is at so I think we'll be OK once we're in range of it, but between here and there it'll be dicey."
"Fuck," Heb said, cursed really, sighing heavily.
"So what do you suggest Bo?" Tor asked. "This is your back yard."
"Yes it is Tor," Bo said, nodding heavily, "yes it is. There's only one way to do it. One shuttle, small, two person craft, fast and low. Once we're in, I should have enough clout to do whatever needs doing, but that's the best way to get in if you ask me."
"Two person," Heb said, more as a comment than a question, his eyes falling heavily on their host.
"Me," Cherry said, without thinking. She knew it had to be her, there was no other way. She simply wouldn't allow any of the others to put themselves in danger because of a situation she was responsible for.
And as she would have expected had she given it any prior thought, Heb, Tor and Fem all objected at once. She felt a little odd smiling at them as they clamored to decry her idea. Tor even stood up to emphasize his indignance. But her overwhelming emotion was simple love and affection. She knew they knew it was the right thing but she also knew they couldn't stand to think of her in danger, of her putting herself at risk.
"I love you guys so much," she said, stopping them in their tracks. "But you know this is right. We're here because of me. Phil is my responsibility. I simply will not allow any of you to put themselves in danger for my sake, not again, because of something I caused. I love you too much. So this is happening."
She was aware of Tor and Fem sharing pained looks with Heb, but when she saw her Captain's head lower into his chest, she knew he understood.
"Cherry..." he said softly, more softly than she'd ever heard him speak before. She felt her heart jump, felt the lump in her throat and her hand instinctively reached out for his.
"I know Skip," she said, her eyes searing into his. She could feel the pleading in his gaze but he softened when he saw the strength of her intent.
A long moment of silence ensued and Cherry was aware of Bo looking a little sheepishly between them.
"So..." he said, and Cherry noted that Meldobian's evidently raised their eyebrows, such as they were, for the same reasons humans did.
"When do we leave Bo?" she said firmly before taking a long deep gulp of the drink the human bar tender had left her.
***
They were airborne within an hour. Just as he'd suggested, Bo had procured for them a compact, agile two-person craft, little more than a cockpit with a crew area attached and a small cargo hold aft. Everything about it said old and rugged but Cherry's experience with the original E16 had taught her not to judge a book by its cover. Even with her rudimentary flight skills she could tell the shuttle they ascended into the skies of AC4 in was a capable ship.
"OK," Bo announced from the pilot's seat adjacent to her own, "setting flight level zero one zero. Our best chance of avoiding the outlaw settlements' fire is to stay as low as possible. With any luck, their targeting systems won't be able to get a lock on us. Plus," he said, and Cherry noted a loaded sidelong glance, "if they do get us, at least we won't have as far to fall."
She didn't know him well enough to be able to tell if he was joking or not but she couldn't help laughing all the same and a warm feeling rose in her as he smiled back at her.
It would be at least a two hour journey to the desert settlement where they believed Phil had holed up and Cherry had the self-awareness to know that they should be two of the longest, hardest two hours of her life where thoughts of confronting Phil, of what would have to happen to him consumed her. And she thought she would be annoyed by Bo's attempts to distract her, to ask her about her past, to tell her about his own but she wasn't. She found him to be a good listener and as genuine and open as he had been since they'd first met him. And he was fun.
So actually, both of them were laughing pretty riotously at some hilarious anecdote he'd been telling when the cockpit's alarms started blaring. They were halfway to their destination.
"What's that?" Cherry asked, looking intently at Bo.
"Missile lock," he said ominously. "Hold on to your ass Cherry, things are about to get hairy. Starting evasive maneuvers."
She felt the shuttle heave and lurch as Bo wrenched the control column, desperately trying to throw the missile that was locked on to them off their scent. In front of her on the radar plot screen Cherry could see he wasn't succeeding. The ominous red marker that represented the missile was still heading straight for them, inexorably, and she felt a strange wave of regret wash over her. She knew she was going to die. And there was so much she had yet to experience.
"Fuck," Bo barked and then Cherry was aware that he was looking at her, a pained expression on his face. "I'm so sorry Cherry."
Somehow she managed a weak smile as she reached out to touch his arm lightly. She wanted to tell him it was OK, that she didn't blame him, but in the very instant she made contact with him, the missile made contact with the shuttle.
In a heartbeat, much of the aft third of their craft simply ceased to exist, its component atoms forced violently into oblivion by the blast of the missile's impact. It took a few seconds for Cherry to realize that the instant and awful cacophony that assaulted her, the tearing of metal and the angry whoosh of the wind as air suddenly burst into the pressurized cabin, wasn't what dying sounded like. It was Bo's voice that brought her to the realization that she was, improbably, still alive.
"We've lost the engines," the Meldobian roared, struggling to be heard, "and... I guess... some other stuff too," he observed, glancing behind him at the gaping hole where the cargo pod had once been. "But we ain't dead yet Cherry, hang on tight."
She knew she should be terrified, knew the chances were they were going to die once they hit the ground, if not before, so the strange calm that came over her was a little surprising.
The roar of the wind seemed to lessen as the cabin matched the outside pressure and Cherry took in her surroundings. Bo's hands were flying across the flickering consoles, desperately trying to regain control of the shuttle with whatever systems they had left as they hurtled headlong for the desert below.
"I'm trying to level our descent, I'd rather not hit the desert head first," he called out, "but there's not much left to control."
She wasn't able to explain how it happened afterwards, but Cherry's hands immediately flew to the controls in front of her.
"I'm gonna try restarting the ventral RCS thrusters," she told Bo, "maybe we can lose some speed before we hit."
She didn't look at him but she was aware his head turned to her, and she was aware when he spoke that he was grinning.
"Shit Cherry," he said, "I didn't know you could fly."
"I'm not sure I can," she called back, a grin of her own forming, despite the circumstances, "it just occurred to me."
"Well it's working," Bo replied, "our air speed and rate of descent are falling. Still pretty suicidal but we might just have a chance."
"Should we call for help?"
"I tried, the fuckers are jamming us."
Although impact was only a little less than two minutes later, Cherry felt like she'd lived days in that time, as she and Bo worked frantically to keep what was left of their shuttle under control.
"I'm gonna try to keep the nose up," Bo called finally, as the surface of the desert filled the window, "hang on Cherry. This is it."
They shared a brief look before Cheery pulled fruitlessly on the harness that was holding her in place, it was as tight as it would go, and pressed herself hard into her seat.
The missile explosion had certainly been a singular experience, but the impact with the ground was undoubtedly the most violent event of Cherry's life. Their maneuvers had slowed the shuttle down but they still hit hard. Very hard. In keeping the nose up, Bo was able to ensure that they didn't simply plough head long into the desert. The first impact bounced them airborne again briefly before they slammed down again even harder. Neither of them made a sound but Cherry could hear the shuttle rattle and creak as it struggled to stay together.
And then they were sliding. Cherry's mind couldn't help thinking about a VR trip she and Phil had taken to a snowy resort, slipping playfully down a soft white hill in a sled. The contrast with the easy pleasure of that experience and the juddering violence of this one was jarring. It felt to Cherry that it took long minutes for them to finally come to a halt although it couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but each instant was filled with the terrible crunching sounds of the disintegrating shuttle, her body pressed hard in all directions against the restraint harness as the shuttle heaved and lurched.
When they finally stopped it seemed oddly sudden and Cherry was slammed hard against her harness. An eerie, sudden silence seemed to fill the cabin. It was a little hard to breath with the swirling sand that had been kicked into the now open-air shuttle and Cherry's chest felt a little tender from the impact against her harness.
"You OK?" she heard Bo say as he hit the release on his harness and fell forward. His seat had become dislodged from the floor of the cockpit by the violence of their landing and he had to use his massive bulk to shift it out of his way before he could stand freely.
"I... yeah... I think... I think I'm good. You?" Cherry asked.
"Almost unbelievably," Bo replied, his now familiar grin wide on his face, "I'm fine. Honestly Cherry, the odds of surviving what just happened to us have got to be infinitesimal."
"I'm pretty good at beating the odds actually," Cherry said, returning his smile. "What do we do?"
They agreed the bandits who's shot them down were unlikely to find them. They'd stayed in the air so long, they were a long way from where the missile had first been launched. With that in mind, they took some time to make a survey of their wrecked shuttle and whatever supplies they could salvage.
Location wise, they were pretty fucked. The desert was more or less flat and they could see nothing but sand in all directions. If it hadn't been for the shelter the remains of the shuttle provided, Cherry didn't think they'd have been able to survive longer than a few hours.
As it was, within an hour, Bo managed to coax enough power to generate a signal from the communications array, finally free of the bandit's jamming, and contacted his people back at the settlement
"That's great Bo, right?" Cherry asked when he told her help was on the way, a little confused at the less than totally pleased look she thought she read in his face.
"Well, it's just that... seems a storm's brewing, they get pretty nasty. Can't fly in them. We might be here for a while."
"I see..." Cherry said, the thought already clear in her mind. "I guess we'll have to figure out something to do while we wait." She knew the look on her face was completely unambiguous, especially to someone as evidently familiar with humans as Bo. So she was probably expecting some sort of reaction, a smirk or a grin maybe. She wasn't expecting the intricate pattern that laced across Bo's purple flesh to start glowing.
"That's so cool," she said.
"Thanks."
Without really thinking about it, Cherry found herself moving slowly towards the Meldobian. Even without thought, she knew why she was. She understood that she was both extremely sexually progressive and had a voracious sexual appetite. She understood others might have a less kind way of phrasing those particular aspects of her personality, but that never bothered her. But she also knew there was more to the few steps forward she was taking with every intention of thoroughly exploring Bo's body. Her natural instinct to be curious about each new alien species was part of it. And so too was the fact that she just liked Bo. He'd confounded every expectation she had about him. He'd been kind, funny, helpful and good company for that part of the flight before they'd been blown up.
