The Vast Expanse. Cold, beautiful, a marvel to behold. Gazing upon its untainted glory, free from light pollution and satellite cover, Seven felt the wonder of a little boy re-enter his heart; Awe that had been lost to his thirty-two year doldrum. Dreams of galavanting around the stars come true in the strangest way imaginable; A man hunt for the unknown, an escapade in pursuit of the boogeyman.

No course to chart, no leads to follow. Sword at his side, home to his back. A true journey and adventure! If only Verity and Monti were there to parade with him as he breached the gassy frontier.

Alas, poor Seven was on his own. He only had himself; A self that he couldn’t have. Words of caution from his brother echoed in his mind. Ominous warnings of a void that disliked his flaming hair; That would show prejudice to his energized blood. A warning to stay hidden, to conceal himself.

One can easily hide what shows outside. Flesh beneath cloth, hair beneath hood, it was a simple matter of hide-without-seek. But what of the man beneath the clothes? He would have to be hidden as well. And so, as his first official act as an agent for Neutra, Seven decided to lean on his theatre kid background. No longer would he be Seven Raymondo Centauri, second born kin of Marlon and Sharlette Centauri, older brother of two and younger brother of one; Head Scientist of Beta Labs and respected engineer of the NHSC. Instead, he would blend into the untamed wilds of the nebulas seas; A realm where men followed their own law and paved their own path. Each with their own stories to tell, each with their own adventures to pursue.

Seven would still be Seven, but his family name would mean nothing to him; For in his story, he has renounced it as they have done him.

No longer a Special Corp operative, but a defecting criminal, fleeing his Mother Planet in pursuit of the very object that ruined his life- that elusive Eterna Core, for its disappearance he was framed. 

With bounty on his head, and honor in his heart, Seven’s quest would be one of quiet redemption, for even if his home didn’t accept his selfless journey to reclaim what was lost, Seven would know in his own conscience that he cleared his name.

Perfect. Something like that would work nicely amongst the hardened rogues of the galactic crime hole. 

Speaking of crime hole, that didn’t sound like a bad place to start. An offense of such caliber, only the ballsiest of the underworld would dare pull such a heist. Therefore, it was safe to assume that a nearby gathering spot for lawless fiends would be the best place to begin searching for leads. Whoever made off with the Eterna Core, they couldn’t have gotten far, certainly not in a day’s time. With a haul as dense and demanding of extreme care as the Core, fleeing with caution to the wind was not an affordable luxury to its captors, lest they run the risk of being punched into the 10th Level. 

Seven sat in his Captain’s Chair and pulled up the local star map. There were quite a few celestial bodies nearby to choose from. Outside of the frozen planets in the Charleton System’s outer belts, five potential planets seemed to be good candidates for safe haven for any fleeing Core thieves. 

A series of back-and-forth messages with his brother helped Seven narrow his first stop down to one: Not a planet, but, rather, a moon. 

Slem, also known as Satellite #5X7J-993 on the Neutra star maps. A quiet little moon orbiting Sqwemvia, Planet #TYL8-1143, a planet deemed “[NON-THREAT]” in its label. Seven had his course. 

As expected, with the Star Sloops QL-Engine, the trip to Slem took no more than a few hours. Such is the power of the newest generation. However, being a rather small vessel, “Delta Centauri”-Seven decided to name her, was already in desperate need of a fuel up. Seven marked a waypoint to the nearest nebula on the ship’s map, a small collection of precious material for the sloop’s MSGs. He set the ship to “Auto-Fill”. The estimated time between the ship’s fueling and its return to Seven’s location was an approximate nineteen hours. Looked as though he would be staying the night on the moon.

Opting to not waste anymore time deliberating, Seven set the ship on its course. He watched as the marvel of Neutranite engineering lifted itself into the sky and became a white dot blending in with thousands of others.

He would be stranded without bail for nineteen hours. Best to avoid trouble, then, if at all possible. Worst case scenario, he had Solaris- A blade that may as well have been an extension of his own being. In all his sword practice, Seven had never lost to anyone outside of his own brother. He was confident that if push came to shove, he could dice up some random rogue of the void without issue.

Slem as a point of interest became immediately apparent upon wandering into the moon’s nearest semblance of civilization. A small town, if it could even be called that, consisting of a handful of commerce buildings and a speckle of residentials. However, it was not the decrepit state nor the lack of clear infrastructure that set off Seven’s alarms. Rather, it was the company to the humble local spot that drew his attention.

From even a distance’s glance, massive Brigs could be seen parked about the outskirts of the town. Bearing no governmental flags nor embassy seals, these vessels of the expansive deep could only belong to one faction of individuals- Pirates.

For as long as history has told, pirates have littered the nebulas seas like the stars themselves. In a vacuum of entropy and disorder, no attempt at law or structure could deter the wildest of the wild from making their lives in the black unknown. To say the Vast Expanse had a pirate problem would be an understatement. It was a pirate tragedy.  

The streets stared down the mysterious cloaked Seven as he made his way through the dust and dirt. Crooked eyes and crooked teeth; A far cry from the world he knew only a night before. He remained vigilant, his main goal being to find a friendly face. What he needed was someone who knew things, things that he did not. Book smarts did not equal street smarts. Seven was self-aware enough to know that. If he couldn’t find a man on the inside, he would be torn atom from atom by the turbulent abyss. 

“Hey! Han'some!” A voice, an old country drawl, rang out in the whispered silence of the wild streets. Seven tilted his gaze to ascertain its origin. 

“Aye, yes, you! The creepy doll in the cloak! Yer’ not from ‘round here, are ya?”

The woman speaking to Seven stood loitering before the crumbling doors of what appeared to be a saloon. Her clothes were torn and tattered; rags only clinging by the bust of her chest and the curves of her hips. She beckoned for Seven to come to her. Not having much else in the way of a plan, he obliged.

The woman squinted hard to try and peek a glance behind Seven’s hood and facemask. “You’ve got some fine pretty eyes! Can I see the rest?!”

“Afraid not, love. ‘Tis a ghastly sight.”

“Aww, well, ain’t much I’m afraid of~ C’mon, let us get a peek!”

Seven chuckled, uncomfortable, but in desperate need of something, anything. “What would you do for me?” He asked.

The woman leaned in close, an attempt to seduce, though the stench of alcohol saturating her breath killed any and all attempts of that. “What do you want me to do~”

Seven reflexively backed a few centimeters away. He composed himself. “How about an exchange of equivalent value? I’ll let you take a look at what’s beneath the mask, but you’ve got to tell me a little bit about this town. Like you guessed, I am in fact new here.”

“Oooo, I like the way you talk~” The woman swooned, “So educated! Whatever you wanna know, doll~”

Excellent. Nice work, Seven. 

“Ahem,” Seven planned his list of questions carefully. He wasn’t sure just how much he could milk the woman for, but he figured it wouldn’t be a lot. “I’d first like to know where the best place to congregate with fellow nebuteers would be?”

“Best place what ‘fer what now?”

Blast it all. Tone it down, Shakespeare. “I meant, the place to meet people who raise sail and hoist anchor. A good place to strike up a friendly dialou- I mean, chat.”

“Ooooooh, shoot, ain’t no better place than right here in the Dusty Crater! There’s all kinds of folks hauled up in there, on the daily!”

“Splendid! Now, another question-”

“Ah-ah-ah, that was all you get, doll~ Now come on, show mama the goods!”

Stars be damned. 

“Right, I suppose that’s fair.” Seven relented. He pinched hold of his face mask and pulled it down for the woman to get a nice look at his…lips?

Much to Seven’s shock, and even a bit of a blow to his ego, the woman seemed incredibly disappointed by his reveal. “Awww…I was just certain you was gonna have a big ol’ furly beard or stache or somethin’ under there! You’re as smooth as a Dodo egg!”

Hurtful. And not good. There were still more questions Seven wanted to ask.

“This really ain’t my day…” The woman lamented, falling into a bare-footed squat.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Seven hissed as he covered himself.

“Nah, it’s all good… Truth be told, I’m more disappointed I got kicked out of the Crater than seeing your baby’s bottom of a face…”

Ouch. But an inkling of hope. The stench of alcohol. The loitering in front of a saloon. The sober depression. This woman was an alcoholic! Which meant, she had a price. Specifically, the cost of one drink, no matter how small.

“I take it you frequent this place as a regular?” Seven asked, his maniacal gears turning. 

“I’m regular, yeah.” The woman responded, “Or, at least, I was…”

“Why were you exiled from such a…” Seven stepped out to truly take a look at the crumbling building. Its very existence was a safety hazard. “Fine…establishment.”

The woman got a little riled up at the question. “Aw, it’s just because that bitch, Zinyo, can’t take a fuckin’ joke! ‘You’re causin’ too much trouble, meh-meh-meh-meh-meh!’ Fuckin’ slut!”

“What if I could get you back in?” Seven proposed, devilish grin equipped.

“Sorry, doll, but you ain’t nearly good lookin’ enough…”

Devastating.

“Wait! Actually,” The woman suddenly hopped to her feet, jolted by a sudden turning of her gears, cobwebs finally breaking loose. “If you could get me a drink, I might be able to look past the whole baby-face thang!” 

“A drink?” Seven parroted in disbelief,  “A singular drink? Is that all you want?”

“It’s all I neeeeed, doll please! I’ll do whatever you want!”

That worked for him. A drink for potentially invaluable information. That was all he needed.

“I’ll be back in a flash.” He winked.

It was shocking, to say the least. The state of the saloon’s interior; Defied all manner of logic, it did. 

Perfectly polished wooden floors.

Pristine chairs and tables.

A colorful spread of exotic drinks behind the bar.

And a bartender who was not only clean, but a real beauty to boot!

Seven was sure of it, he had found paradise, and it was disguised as Hell to keep the casuals at bay, surely. Why, a man could lose himself in such Nirvana.

But he had to steel himself. The simple purchase of a drink would land him all the closer to his ultimate goal. Just one easy purchase to pull him towards Destiny; A hero who started his quest with a drink- Oh what a fine tale that would be.

Seven strutted his way to the bar. The bartender, Zinyo- he assumed her name was, stared at him with gorgeous round eyes of blue. She had two cute horns protruding from her forehead. Her skin was a peachy-tangerine, her top- a magnificent shade of lime green. A fruit cocktail for the eyes. Seven wasn’t sure what species she was. Foreign relations was never really his foretay. Never seeing himself ever leaving the paragon comfort of his Home Planet, he was ashamedly ignorant when it came to at least half of the galaxy’s patrons. Still, though, a simple and common test of the water would be to ascertain if they both spoke the same language.

“Hail and well met to you, my dear. How’s business?”

“Eh, business is business. Be a lot better if you bought something~” 

Test complete. And she was a real charmer.

“Certainly, love. I’ll take one of your most basic, please.”

“Not a heavy drinker?”

“Not a big spender!”

Zinyo giggled. She grabbed a flask from her array of potions and poured Seven a glass of a boring, purple liquid. “That will be one doubloon!” She chirped.

“Doubloon?”

The bartender seemed confused by Seven’s confusion. “I also take Shills, Reales, and even Quids if you have them.” She added for clarity’s sake.

Seven fished around his cloak for his communicator and held it up for Zinyo to see. “What about Neutrinos?” He asked.

“Oh…I’m sorry? I’ve never heard of that currency before…What’s its conversion rate? We might be able to work something out?”

“Well, I’m not sure about conversion rates…” Seven admitted, “But it’s digital, so it should convert automatically.”

“Oh…Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I only take hard money, nothing digital and no I.O.Us.”

“What?! But this is valid-” Seven almost said “This is valid Neutranite currency”, but his brother’s words echoed through his mind. 

“Is there…is there anything else I can do for it? A favor?”

Zinyo shook her head, then perked up as an idea struck. “Actually, yes! I’m sure you saw that unsightly drunk outside my business on your way in?”

Stars…

“If you could shoo her away for me, I’ll make this one on the house! Everyone’s gotta start their tab at some point!”   

Seven cursed his luck before he realized just how lucky he actually was. In this scenario, he essentially got everything he wanted for free! 

“Give me two seconds!” He promised.

The ragged woman was still waiting on the step to the Crater. She perked up like a dog seeing its owner after a long day when Seven barrelled out the front doors.

“Didja get it?!” She squealed.

“No!” Seven returned with equal energy. “But listen, all you have to do is go wait over there!” Seven extended his finger towards a shack on the edge of town. “If you do that, the bartender will give me a drink for free. A drink I can then give to you.”

“Wha?” 

“She doesn't want you loitering around here anymore, and, as it turns out, I’m flat broke. But, if I can get you to leave, then I get a drink on the house. Get it?”

“Nuh-uh.”

It was like trying to explain basic chemistry to Lilliana. “Look, just wait over there, ok? I promise I’ll deliver you your drink.”

The woman put on her best attempt at a tough face. She squinted hard at Seven, trying to see through any potential bullshit. “You’re not tryna pull a fast one on me, are ya?”

The investigation would be a long one, if this was the norm to be expected.

“No.” Seven promised, flat and dry.

“Okie-doke! Thanks, babyface!”

And with that, the woman skipped her way down the dusty street, stopping at the shack and giving Seven a little wave. Piece of cake.

Seven strolled back into the saloon, a successful man. “Mission accomplished, my dear. That ol’drunkard won’t be bothering you anymore.”

“Oh, thank you!” Zinyo slid Seven his drink. “That girl is bad for business.”

Seven cupped the cool glass in his gloved hands. He stared into its dark, reflective pool for a moment. It occurred to him that this bartender, outside of being outworldishly dashing, could also serve as a valuable source of information. All manner of crook and criminal; thug and pirate were sure to have graced her humble stools more times than there are stars in the sky. An exchange of friendly dialogue could certainly answer a few more of his questions for no price other than his ear. 

“You must get a lot of types like her?” Seven joshed, with his devilish grin stretched behind his mask. 

“Ugh, like you wouldn’t believe… All these goons and gangsters come through here making a fuss, I’m just trying to run a  legitimate business here! I’d like to not have to replace my tables and chairs every fifth week! Sigh…” Zinyo took to wiping a glass with a dingy old cloth. Seven’s desire for a drink of his own suddenly waned.

“It’s gotten a lot better since Ivy’s been around more often, though…” She continued, “She keeps the boys at bay, and deals with the women outside…I’m lucky to have her here.”

A potential subject of interest. Strong, indomitable, a large influence. In other words: A big name.

“Oh? This Ivy a friend of yours?” Seven inquired.

“The best…” Zinyo answered, a big smile dressing her stunning face. “She’s usually parading around doing who-knows-what, who-knows-where, with who-knows-who, but she’s been grounded a lot more lately. She spends days at a time here, only going off for brief ventures and chump change here and there. I’m not complaining. Even offer her a free room whenever she’s around. I’d love to hire her as my security…but she says her ‘heart likes to be free’. It’s not like I’m asking for marriage or something, ya know?”

Seven nodded. The only things he extracted from that rant were: One, this Ivy knows her way around. Two, this Ivy knows how to throw down. And three, this Ivy probably knows quite a number of people. A few potential suspects, perhaps.

“Wow! She sounds like my kind of woman!” Seven said, “I’d love to meet her! Is she grounded now?”

“Yeah, she is actually!” Zinyo responded, her blue eyes glimmering with a strange, shining excitement. “She’s probably running around somewhere, but she’ll be back by rush hour in a few! Are you serious about meeting her?! She could use someone in her life!”

Jackpot. Seven pulled down his mask, revealing his smile to help seal the deal. “I’m dead serious! That would be great! Ha! Man comes in for a drink and he might just leave with a new woman in his arms! Talk about a good day!”

Satisfied with his current accomplishments, Seven rose from the stool. He had a promise to keep, after all. He would deliver the disgusting purple sludge to the ragged woman outside, and then, he would contact his brother to relay his current progress.

“Well, I’d like to take care of some business before I meet her!” He lied, “So I’ll just take my drink to go and return upon her arrival!”

A successful mission, that was, until the bartender’s blushing face reduced to an unfortunate frown. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I’ve got a strict ‘No taking glasses outside’ policy. Too expensive…”

“Oh…No worries then, love. Do you have to-go flasks?”

“Something tells me you can’t afford a to-go flask~” Zinyo teased playfully, to which Seven grimaced.

“Not even for another favor?” He asked, desperately grasping for a little more luck.

“Gotta make money somehow~” Zinyo sang.

A fair point, but Seven still cursed it to the stars and back. He intended on keeping his word to the woman outside. But, until then, it appeared he would be stuck with the miserable purple toxin- one that smelt unlike any of the fine liquors on Neutra. 

Seven reclaimed his seat at the counter. He figured he might as well wait for this “Ivy” individual there, rather than potentially missing her as he galavanted through the streets. 

Bored, and without much else to do, he took a sniff of the purple liquid. Repulsive. He dared to take a sip. 

The flavor elevated him as it coated his tongue. Such an exotic taste reminded him of the wines his brother would return home with from excursions. He recalled the first time he ever sipped such ethers: A quick passing in the halls of the Starliment Building’s military branch, an honor he was only bestowed because he was family of Naval royalty.

…

Phetzana was led down a long corridor by an, admittedly handsome, soldier. She had never been in the military branch of the Starliment Building before; Where busts of prominent war heroes and displays of wartime memorabilia stood proud as testaments to Neutra’s military might. Being within the bowels of the proverbial beast, Phetzana felt a growing sense of confidence in her actions. Something about bearing witness to Neutra’s pride in its military with her own eyes helped silence her doubts about what she had done.

Though the relief didn’t last long. Somewhere in the middle of the multi-cityblock long corridor, the soldier escorting her stopped and about-faced towards a black steel door; Branded with the Neutra flag, as well as the Exploding Nova-The military’s personal emblem.

The soldier gave three distinct knocks. Then, he removed his communicator from a strap upon his vest, and scanned it against the door’s lock pad. After which, he was prompted to type in a series of letters, numbers, and symbols. Finally, he was given access to swipe his hand. The lock’s icon transmuted into its unlocked counterpart, and the door opened with a quiet hiss.

The soldier entered the doorway and held it open for Phetzana to come through. The room she found herself in looked like any run-of-the-mill, comfortable office space. 

The temperature was a relaxing air-conditioned cool. Mahogany bookshelves stood tall against the room's left wall, a massive globe of Neutra sat eye-catchingly against the right wall. A grand desk stacked high with papers and books found its place in front of the back wall, while romantic, scarlet sofas took the role of the room’s centerpiece.

The soldier instructed Phetzana to “Wait here” before promptly leaving her alone in the ominous space. The room’s comfort only added to her unease. Would she meet her end here, staining such wonderful sofas with her blood? Only the ticking clock to doomsday would reveal.

The hiss of the steel door rattled Phetzana so bad she swore her heart would supernova right then and there.

Through the door stepped Liter, dressed in his Sunday best-A black and white polo with khaki shorts. Phetzana’s relief was immeasurable. Before she even knew what she was doing, she leapt into his arms and squeezed him tight.

“You’re ok.” Liter assured, “You're ok…” 

“I’m ok.” Phetzana agreed, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “Are you ok? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“Hurt him?”

With the being-shaking rumble of an all-too-familiar voice disrupting their moment of consolement, Phetzana was confident her heart would nova. Her cells trembled and her nails dug like claws into Liter’s back. She could feel her friend trying to push her to let go, but it was as if instinct had taken her over completely; The instinct of prey to either fight…or flee.

“What kind of brute do you take me for, Ms.Lyra?”

“Hey, Phetz, come on, let go. It’s ok.” Liter tried his best to convince her, and she tried her best to believe him, but her end was near and she could feel it. Oh how it rattled her, that icy chill as the Devil walked by to take his place at his desk.

“I only called you two here to have a little chit-chat. Go ahead and make yourselves comfortable.”

Phetzana heard the sound of an office chair being set to full recline. She found the strength to let go of Liter. He stared into her eyes with patient care. His reassuring smile gave her courage enough to take his hand and venture to the sofas together.

Phetzana didn’t want to look up. She wanted to keep her gaze fixed to the beautiful maroon carpet. If her end was coming, she didn’t want to see it. She only wanted to view the comfortable sight of deep red, knowing and fearing that her brains would be an easy cleanup in a room already stained such a wonderful color.

But her curiosity, damnedable and rotten, that driving force of any scientist, pulled her sights up to view the embodiment of all evil in the world. Great minds just couldn’t help but stare deeply into the abyss.

Thankfully, the abyss was not staring back. He was too busy puffing an Oort-brand cigar. Phetzana was so absorbed by her own fears that she hadn’t even noticed her escort made a return. He stood tall in the left corner beside the Devil’s desk; His pose stiff and his gaze elsewhere.

Phetzana looked to Liter, wondering how he was processing their current situation. He met her eyes, reflecting their panic. Was this to be it for them?

“I wanted,” The Devil began, “To congratulate you two, personally, for a mission accomplished and a job well done. I would like to offer you my deepest, sincerest gratitudes for your service and heroism. As promised, the Neutrinos you’ve earned have already been transferred to each of your private accounts. Use them smartly.” 

The Devil took a long, smelly drag of his cigar. Dissatisfied with its taste, he extinguished it, smashing it in his ashtray with his massive fingers. A different brand graced his fingertips from his coat pocket, this one unknown to Phetzana; Most likely a brand way out of her paygrade, even with the net worth of a super criminal. The Devil took to lighting this ambrosial delicacy with his own flaming hair; Violent swirls of red and orange, flares that stirred animus intent in even the most passive of monks who gazed into them long enough.

“Also,” The Devil continued, “For safety precautions, I’ve already arranged it for you two to be relocated to a lakeside residential in Sol's Villa. There, you can live out the rest of your days ignorant and comfortable.” A puff of his new cigar left a look of satisfaction on the Devil’s face.

Phetzana’s stomach churned with the seismic activity of her own hesitance. Her lips chapped to keep her from asking potentially dangerous, self-incriminating questions…but a scientist can’t help but inquire.

“We’re…we’re not in trouble, are we, Your Strongest?”

The foolish woman asked such a question. At that point, the anticipation was exponentially worse than whatever was to come. But Phetzana was done, she wanted it all to be over.

His Strongest, the Devil in flesh, looked to his anxious pawn with perplexed eye. “Trouble? What in Novia’s name for? You two did what I asked of you, right? Then, as long as you keep your mouths shut, never speak of this again, never think of this again, and make no mention of anything surrounding it ever again, you’re in protected hands. You’re free of any guilt, and absolved of all blame.”

Though her heart was still wary, Phetzana’s muscles relaxed. She could feel herself breathe again. It seemed her plan had gone off without a hitch, and she was free to walk away a new woman. She lamented the loss of her normal life, but she celebrated the fact that she would continue to have a life at all. What’s better, she was a hero, to billions who would never know it. There was only one face that would haunt her nightmares till the end of her days, and only one voice that would cry out to her every time she pondered the damages from her actions.

“What about school, Your Strongest?” Liter inquired, the innocence still in his voice, a relief to Phetzana’s ears.

His Strongest leaned against his desk, hands folded and eyes sharp. “Surely you understand why that can’t happen anymore, son. But I wouldn’t worry about any of that. With how much you two have made, you’re set for life. You never have to work another day in your brief flickers of existence.”

Phetzana knew this news would be a devastating blow to Liter. The man lived, breathed, and ate his academic pursuits. As for her, she had already made her peace. Everything after was simply a bonus.

“Now!” His Strongest rose from his chair- A towering titan of divine glow, a Neutranite above even the most elite; Starliment’s Chief of Military. “If we’re all in understanding,” The beastly entity opened his muscled arms wide. “Let’s hug on it!”

Both Phetzana and Liter froze with hesitation.

“Come on, I won’t bite~”

Reluctantly, the two accomplices gave in. Inching their way into the Strongest embrace, they saw their lives flashing before their eyes.

His Strongest bestowed upon his two little helpers, a gentle hug of gratitude and compassion; One that slowly became a vice around their necks as his searing hot breath brushed against their ear lobes.

“I’m dead serious.” He growled, “If I hear even so much as a whisper, and you two were involved, I will personally snuff your flames out before you even have time to scream. Are we in understandance?”

Phetzana and Liter struggled to confirm with their throats closing. Just as it felt life was about to leave their frail bodies, His Strongest released them.

“Good!” He chirped, “Now get out and enjoy the rest of your rich and comfortable lives!”

The hallway squeaked with Liter and Phetzana’s bootsteps. 

Phetzana rubbed the red ring around her neck. She would certainly have a bruise come tomorrow.

“Stars, Phetz. Why did you think we were in trouble? Your panic had me panicked. I knew His Strongest just wanted to talk to us. His message said so.”

“Come on, you can’t tell me that ‘We need to talk’ isn’t the most ominous fucking thing you’ve ever heard! I was certain this was it for us…”

“Yeah, well, it might as well have been…We can’t even go back to school.”

“Fuck school.”

“Phetz!”

“Fuck all this Liter-let’s just run away! We got the money, let’s go off planet!”

“Phetz…”

Phetzana’s knees trembled, threatening to give way beneath her. “I can’t live like this…I’m falling apart…”

Liter placed a comforting hand upon her cold shoulder. “But it’s done, Phetz…Things can go back to normal now. Some semblance of it, anyways…”

“No…” Was Phetzana’s response. “Things can never go back to normal…Actually…I’m not even sure there was ever a normal to begin with…”

…

“Isn't it normal for a soldier to want to help a damsel in distress?!” Seven continued on in his unnecessarily long argument with his brother; One done across the delay of the communicator’s voice call. 

“Not when there are bigger things to worry about. You’re not just playing around out there, are you?” His brother accused, to which Seven smacked his teeth.

“Of course I’m not! I’m establishing my footing. Lest we forget I was sent out here with no info, no leads, and no help! I’m working my way up to the bigger fish.”

“Oh yeah?” Heaven retorted, “Where are you at right now?”

Seven was parked in a corner booth within the Dusty Crater. But his brother didn’t have to know that.

“Waiting for my ship’s return in one of Slem’s finest establishments!” He defended. 

“Right. So you’re at the Crater.” His brother saw through all. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell His Strongest that you’re too busy getting drunk to do your job~”

“Oi! Don’t get like that with me! This is your job, let’s not forget.”

“Do you think she’s cute?”

“Excuse me?”

“Zinyo. She’s a looker, yeah?”

“...Ravishing.” Seven admitted.

Heaven’s dorky laughter filled the airwaves, staticy from sloppy connection. “You should try to court her! I think she’s your type!”

“OK, ending the call, goodbye Heaven!”

The last thing Seven heard before clicking off his communicator, was Heaven’s obnoxious laughter from the other end.

Hours had passed like meaningless nothings in the crucial crunch of time. Seven’s impatience was already beginning to get the better of him. Every second he spent waiting in some dark booth, the Eterna Core got farther and farther away from him. 

As he tapped his fingers and lost himself to starry-eyed daydreams, Seven finally heard what he had been waiting for.

A gasp from Zinyo welcomed the words “Ivy, you’re back!”

It was showtime. Seven eyed the bar from the safety of his booth. No need to be impatient. If anything, it would be proper to wait for an introduction on his behalf from Zinyo; That is, if the woman was truly serious about hooking the two up. Seven watched the conversation between the two women with engaged ear.

“Sorry I’m back so late.” The woman presumed to be Ivy apologized. A surprisingly stunning maiden of finely aged years, Seven figured she could be no older than him, potentially even a little younger. All the better for the false context of “just a friendly courting”.

Her hair was a long, thick braid of heavenly autumn, bearing one strand of brown and another of orange- a hue that gradually transferred to red as it climbed to the root of her skull. 

She wore a faded and dirt covered floral-patterned kimono, one split and torn at the legs. At her side, a sheathed blade was displayed without caution; Judging by its shape, it looked to be a katana, which would certainly match the kimono theme. Seven wondered if she maybe hailed from Quoxl- the planet where that sleazy con man at the watchstand claimed to have received his shipment of Velvet Ore watches. Her garb and physical characteristics certainly hinted at that being the case, but it was never safe to assume anything in the Vast Expanse.

Zinyo quickly made to pouring the autumn-haired maiden a drink. A splash of something or another, a dash of one thing or something, a tinkle of Twinkling Tequila- that much Seven could recognize.

“Was it a job?” Zinyo asked as she swirled the colorful concoction, solidifying its components into a singular homogeneous mixture. 

“Nah, just some personal biz. Some old friends tried to recruit me for a haul and I ‘politely’ declined.”

Ivy laid her head atop Zinyo’s counter. From his many bouts with his dear Verity, Seven knew that to be the universal sign for sober sadness. Pour a drink in my mouth and wash my sorrows away; Such a simple gesture spoke volumes of a person’s inner turmoil.

“I won’t press you for it if it's something you don’t want to talk about.” Zinyo presented the drink to Ivy with a loving smile. The maiden accepted it with gusto, wasting no time in getting to work on the refreshing glass of liquid repression.

The forget-me drink found its way from Ivy’s lips back to the countertop with a satisfied thud. 

“Thanks.” She said, gratitude dancing softly in her voice. “I needed that…”

Zinyo smiled. Her eyes sparkled just as they had before. Seven felt his turn coming.

“That’s not the only good thing I have for you tonight~” 

“Yeah? What’s up?”

Seven watched in anticipation as Zinyo’s eyes fell on his lone corner of the room, past all the late night drinkers and quiet loners. He watched as she beckoned for Ivy to lean in close, aiming to whisper something in her ear. A few seconds of an exchange, and Ivy’s gaze now turned to him. She seemed a little embarrassed.

“Come on, Zin! I told you to stop doing stuff like that! I’m not looking for any of that romance shit!” he heard her “whisper” to her blushing comrade.

“Shhh! Keep your voice down! He’ll hear you!”

“Good! I want him to hear me! Why do you always do stuff like this whenever I’m not here to defend myself?!”

“Defend yourself?! Ivy, it’s just a little harmless flirting, not some declaration of war! Just go talk to him! He’s a little handsome under that mask~”

“Absolutely not!” And with that, Ivy downed the rest of her drink, slamming her glass to the counter once more, this time in dissatisfaction. “Now if it was a job, that would be a different story!” 

Stars be damned, Zinyo. Still, a foot in the door is a foot in the door. Seven could still bring this back, he simply had to change his approach. Bully for him, as a “job” was more in-line with the truth anyways.

Seeing his window to strike while striking was good, Seven rose from his booth and sauntered his way to the bar. He noticed Ivy side-eyeing him as he approached. What he thought would be a gentle pre-text for introduction was now working against him; The woman sure to be wary of his every move as an attempt to “flirt”. As if he had any desire in something so silly.

Not rushing to say a word yet, Seven sat a couple of stools away from the braided ruffian. He looked at her with a bit less tact than she did him. He wanted it to be obvious, observing how she would react. His desired result would be no hostility, and that’s precisely what he got; Ivy turning her attention back to Zinyo’s scurrying form behind the counter, as opposed to instigating any sort of altercation with him.

In other words: The water was safe.

Now, what would be the best method of approach? A simple hi and hello would probably come off as a sorry start to some pick-up line. No, what Seven needed was to shatter that pre-text all together. Zinyo was still busy behind the counter, doing whatever it was bartenders did back there. With Ivy in an isolated environment, the time to change to a more desirable context was now.

“I hear you’re on the lookout for jobs.” A casual tossup, dry and without clear expectation. No eye contact, no direct address. A little jab to change the mood.

Ivy did not respond right away. She simmered with her debating mind for a moment, pretending to fish around for a few last sips in her empty glass. Much like the ever patient fisherman, all Seven needed to do, was wait for a bite.

“Depends.” Ivy replied, equally as dry, equally as distant. “Who’s asking?”

And so the line shook. Seven felt a smirk creep beneath his mask. A successful experiment never failed to make him giddy.

“Well, firstly, I’d like to clear up any misunderstandings Ms.Zinyo may have put into your mind. As stunning as you are, I, too, am not looking for any of that romance shit.” A cheeky tone of voice to help wash the reassurance down. Everything and anything to insure the woman would stay involved in the conversation. All Seven needed was a lead, anything at all from her pool of knowledge. 

Ivy scoffed, relief and maybe even a hint of disbelief. “Good. I’d hate to have to leave my favorite drinking spot for a night.”

Alright, he was in. Seven felt confident that he could steer the conversation in his direction from that point forward. If she didn’t want to talk to him, she wouldn’t be. She just seemed to be that kind of person.

“I take it unwanted advances are quite common around these parts?” But first, a little friendly banter to loosen the lips.

“When you're this good-looking, everyone wants a piece of you. It’s only annoying with the persistent types.” A sneaky glance shot to Seven with the emphasis on “persistent”. 

A test of her own, no doubt. She, too, was observing his reactions. Seven had not a worry nor concern in his heart. Afterall, the best lies are truths.

Seven chuckled playfully. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m only interested in a  job, nothing more.” 

Ivy appeared convinced, halting her non-existent drink-fest and sitting the empty glass down on the counter. She passed a glance to Zinyo, who was busy digging through a few boxes dressing the floor.

“Let’s not talk here.” She said, “ I'd hate for any more ‘misunderstandings’.”

Seven beamed. He had done it. “Of course! Would you like to come back to my booth?”

“Nah. I’ve got a place ‘round back where we won’t be bothered. Just follow my lead.” 

Seven followed Ivy’s lead. He followed her to a dark alley behind the saloon, resting comfortably between it and another establishment.

The maiden crossed her arms and took her place between Seven and the alley’s sole exit- a move of power, he presumed. Seven himself took a seat on some old junk huddled against the alley’s dead end wall.

“So what’s the job?” Ivy asked, serious and testy, the mistrust in her voice as potent as the smell of alcohol on her breath.

Seven figured the hard part over, but now he found himself struggling to come up with a way to explain his situation to the outsider. A rogue, someone known in the world of criminals; There were certainly things he absolutely couldn’t tell her. But he needed to tell her something. The increasing annoyance and animosity growing on her face told him that much. 

Seven decided that, for someone like Ivy, someone who clearly had a jittery edge about her, as if she expected the wind itself to betray her, trust would be the best way to get her assistance. The daring man took his hood in his hands. “Can you keep a secret?” He asked.

A single eyebrow perked on Ivy’s end. Other than that, the woman showed no emotion outside of hesitance. “Sure.”

Seven closed his eyes and removed his hood, letting his bright locks of blazing white illuminate the walls of the alley around them.

The response was immediate…and violent. Ivy drew her katana from its slumber. Its blue-tinted blade reflected Seven’s light. “You’re a Neutranite!” She growled.

Seven immediately threw his hands in the air. Could this be the danger his brother warned him of? Just the mere sight of his hair being enough to spark such a hostile reaction, to the very marrow it chilled him.

“What are you, a cop?!” Ivy continued in her wrath.

“No! No! I am not a cop!!” Seven tried to explain.

“What the Hell is a Neutranite doing here- you people just left a few months ago!”

Seven never would have imagined he would find himself pleading for his life in only his first day. “I assure you, I am not with the company you speak of! I’m independent! I only came here because I needed someone for a job!”

Ivy’s blade quickly found its point against Seven’s jugular. “You better start explaining, now!”

Seven fought to not swallow. “I will if you just put the sword away!” 

Ivy’s eyes pierced through Seven’s like a predator ready to pounce. But, for a moment, just a singular moment, she considered lowering her guard.

And that was all Seven needed.

He quickly grabbed her hand, forcing her to drop the threatening weapon. Ivy instantly began fighting back. She managed to claw at Seven’s face before he had her completely incapacitated, wrapping her in a “Bear-Hug-Vice” from behind- a technique he learned from his father, one he knew from personal experience she couldn’t escape from.

Even in futility, Ivy continued to thrash and flail violently. She growled and shouted obscenities directed personally at him, she was feral. 

“Please, just calm down and hear me out!” Seven shouted over her frantic episode. “I mean you no harm, honest!”

The woman still fought, she still refused to listen.

“I don’t know why you’re so worked up, but I’m not a cop! I’m not an officer- I’m not an agent of any kind! I’m just a defector- an exile!”

This seemed to help the manic beast calm herself. Her flails ceased. Her growls grew quiet, then stopped all together. “Damn,” She said, whipping her head to throw her massive braid back behind her. “You’re stronger than you look, string bean.”

Again, ouch, but it was better than the tantrum from a few seconds ago.

“You can put me down now. I’m all tuckered out.”

Seven looked to Ivy’s blue blade, lying in the dirt. He shuffled her and himself over to it and placed a foot down upon its hilt. Then, he released Ivy, dropping her to her feet.

The woman stretched out her back and rolled her shoulders. She held her hands up, a gesture to emphasize her harmlessness. As Seven relaxed himself to believe her, she lunged at him with her nails. He managed to grab her hand just mere centimeters away from his eyeball.

Frustration beginning to grow, Seven dropped his friendly persona. “Damn it, what the blazes is wrong with you?! Can’t you see you can’t win! I’m only here because I need help! I showed you my hair out of trust! I don’t want anything sketchy, and I don’t want anything that would bring harm to some woman I’ve just met! If my appearance offends you that much, then I'll just put the damn hood back on!” 

“Bite me, Neutranite!” Ivy spat, “You can't fool me, your people are all the same!”

“You know what!? You’re right! My people are all the same!” Seven threw Ivy to the ground. He could feel someone else taking over his being; A new identity rising to the surface for a believable show. It wasn’t just enough to sell his story, no, Seven needed to become it. So, using Ivy as a springboard, Seven truly embraced his fabricated alter ego. Seven Centauri was no more. Instead, Seven the Exile would be the only voice of his to speak out in the infinite void. His performance shall become reality.

“My people- Do you want to hear about my people! MY PEOPLE SENTENCED ME TO DEATH FOR A CRIME I DIDN'T EVEN COMMIT!!! MY PEOPLE CONTINUE TO ABSORB THEMSELVES IN THEIR OWN SENSE OF JUSTICE, EVEN MY OWN FAMILY, WHILE IGNORING HUMANE REASON AND UNDERSTANDING!! AND NOW I’M- I’M HURTLING THROUGH THE VAST EXPANSE ON A STAR-DAMNED SUICIDE MISSION, BECAUSE I NEED TO GET BACK THE VERY THING THAT RUINED MY LIFE!! SO, YOU KNOW WHAT, I GET IT!!!! I HATE MY BLOODY HAIR TOO!!!!!”

Seven watched as Ivy’s hard expression softened upon his show’s conclusion. Satisfied and exhausted, he reclaimed his seat on the pile of junk; A fake performance, but a very real fatigue. Seven the Exile sure had a rough life.

Ivy rose to her feet and dusted off her already filthy kimono. She stepped over to her blade and tore it from the dirt. The deadly weapon found its way back into its scabbard. There was silence. The charge in the air dissipated as Ivy approached to stand over Seven’s tired form.

“This ‘suicide mission’,” She began, “Is that what your job offer is?”

As tired as he was, Seven’s mind was still quick enough to see improvisation in the stars.

He looked up to the woman, putting on his best attempt at defeated eyes. Surely his exhaustion helped in the believability department. “Yeah…” He answered.

“What makes it a suicide mission?” 

Seven sighed. “Because my death waits for me, whether I succeed or fail…”

“Explain.”

Seven retrieved his communicator from his cloak. As he fingered in his password and searched for his desired selection, he continued lying through his teeth. “I’m on a quest to retrieve something- Something that was stolen from my planet. I was framed and held liable for its disappearance. So, my life is over, simple as that. Neutra doesn’t jest when it comes to crime and punishment. I was to be executed in only a week’s time. My family turned their backs on me…but even so, the honor I hold as a Neutranite will not let me just roll over and die! So, I’ve pledged myself to retrieving this item. Once I have it, I’m going to return it to my home. Even if such an act doesn't clear my name, I do it regardless. For I would rather die with my truth, then live suffering a lie.”

Seven let his monologue sit with the woman for a moment.

“You Neutranites all make me sick, and, frankly, I don’t give a damn about someone else’s personal quest for honor. If you want my help, I need payment. Simple as that.”

On cue, Seven held up his communicator. Numbers that meant nothing in the bizarre new world of the Vast Expanse filled Ivy’s eyes. It was nothing more than Seven’s own personal bank account, but, for this story, it would serve nicely as the self-proclaimed bounty on his head. 

“This is my bounty,” The snake named Seven hissed, “Help me and it’s yours.”

“What?”

“Like I said, I don’t give a rat’s ass if my life is spared or not. If my planet still condemns me to death, then I will accept it. Help me find what I’m looking for, and I’ll let you turn me in, no strings, no funny business. I get what I want, and all this is yours.”

Seven watched the greed flow into Ivy’s heart. He held his hopes that maybe even a little good-will towards fellow man was mixed in there too, even if only at a 10:1 ratio.

“What’s your name?” Ivy asked.

Seven rose from his pile of junk to tower over the woman in turn. “Seven,” he said.

“You just got yourself a deal, Seven.” The poisonous maiden smirked.

Seven adjusted his mask, glad to have its cover to shield his own devilish smirk as it smiled wide. “Then we have business. Thank you, Ms.Ivy.”

“I say we drink on it.” Ivy proposed. “If Zinyo says anything stupid, just let me handle her.”

“A fine condition.” Seven responded. 

He let Ivy lead the way back around to the saloon’s entrance. He passed a quick glance to the shed where his ragged friend was told to wait. He wondered if she was still there.  

Seven followed his new partner into the saloon. Minutes later, he remerged with a flasked drink in hand, claimed on Ivy’s behalf. He sauntered the cool liquid over to the dilapidated shed. To his surprise and gratitude, the ragged woman was still there, curled in the fetal position against the shed’s inner wall. Seven placed the flask firmly on the dirt in front of her. Then, he walked away, back towards the saloon, loving the breeze as it blew through his cloak.

…

Heaven loved nothing more than the way the breeze blew through his Captain-issue Naval coat. Immaculate style and undoubtedly fashionable, the best part about his promotion was acquiring such a flavorful statement. His fascination took such hold of him, that he completely lost track in his conversation with HamHeign, as the two men stood beyond the steps of the Starliment Building in the chill of night.

“-...So that’s why we should probably try and strong-arm the media. What do you think?”

“Huh?” Heaven offered as his only input.

“Were you even listening, Centauri?” HamHeign growled.

“Not really. We were talking about the news problem, right?”

“YES!”

“You’re free to do whatever you want with that. I think you’ve got more influence in that department anyway.”

“Hmph!” HamHeign crossed his massive arms. “Putting all the heavy lifting on me, huh?”

“Hardly.” Heaven responded, loving every second he got to spend infuriating his bitter rival. “Journalists are easy to pay off with a bit of bribery. All you have to do is throw a few ones and zeroes their way.”

“Are you insinuating I use my family’s money for such a cheap act?”

“Rich pigs should pull their weight in society.” Heaven replied, knowing full well it would set the blazing giant off.

“What the Hell did you just say?”

“Oink. Oink.”

“You’re really pushing your luck, Centauri!”

“What the Hell are you two doing out here?”

Both men froze in attention as His Strongest stepped outside the Starliment Building to join them.

“We were just organizing our next plan of action to deal with the media issue, Your Strongest.” Heaven recited like a whipped dog.

“Yeah? So what’s the plan?”

“I’ll speak with my parents about paying off some of the news teams, Your Strongest.” HamHeign replied, his booming, tough voice, as quiet as it could physically be in the presence of his superior.

“Good. Good. I’m counting on you boys.” His Strongest took to lighting a cigar on his flaming hair. “If this media shit starts getting anymore out of hand, we might have to resort to alternatives.” His Strongest took a devilish drag of his smoky ambrosia, “And nobody likes the alternatives, now do they boys?”

“No sir…” The men answered in unison.

His Strongest tapped his two valiant soldiers on the shoulders as he passed between them. His escort was already standing guard by a black SiriusCruiser, its windows tinted beyond the shade of midnight.

“Oh, and, Centauri.” His Strongest added, just as his massive body got halfway into the tiny car. “About that report you gave me regarding your brother. Tell him he’s doing a fiiiine job.”

Heaven always felt nervous whenever interacting with his superiors, but there was something about his recent interactions with His Strongest that made him feel…uneasy. “I’ll…be sure to pass that along, Your Strongest. He’ll really love that.”

His Strongest left his soldiers with a thumbs up out the cruiser’s black window. The shadowy vehicle hovered away from the building’s curb, vanishing into the dark streets of the night.

Heaven felt the breeze waft through his coat once more as he dialed a number on his communicator.

“You don’t have to tell him now.” HamHeign snarked.

“I’m not telling him.” Heaven retorted. “I’m calling us a taxi.”

…

“So what are we waiting here for? A taxi?” Ivy asked as she stood in the barren field outside of the town with Seven, dusty winds blowing soot into her eyes.

“Yes and no.” Seven replied, being purposefully vague in his response. 

It would be arriving any minute, that Delta Centauri of his. Sleek and agile, efficient and trustworthy. Bearing the Neutra flag proudly atop her mast. As Slem’s parent star reared its light on the dark side of the moon, a rapidly approaching shadow closed in on the spot where Seven and Ivy stood.

She had arrived, carrying enough fuel in her reserves to survive the journey back to him, as well as what was needed to make the jump to the next destination.

“That’s your ship?” Ivy asked in almost envious disbelief.

“Isn’t she a beaut~” Seven replied, his pride beaming like the morning sun. “Step inside and I’ll give you the tour.”

Delta’s interior was like that of a small-ship sized mobile home. There was obviously the Main Control room: Home to Delta’s control panel, her starmap, her Management UI, and, Seven’s favorite part, a pleasant lounge area complete with a curved sofa accompanied by a matching rug and coffee table. 

Behind the lounge area and beside the hallway to the ship's engine room, bedrooms, and powder room, was a small kitchen area complete with a fridge, small sink, and intimate stove top-countertop combo.

Ivy quickly made herself at home on the sofa, spreading her arms and legs out wide to claim the area for herself.

“So where to first?” She asked.

“Actually,” Seven began as he took his seat in the Captain's Chair, “That’s what I would like to ask you. Do you know of any places where, say, potentially stolen pieces of machinery would wind up if they were carried off planet in a hurry? This is assuming the assailant can’t Quantum Leap, which, as a random criminal, they probably wouldn’t even have access to in the first place.”

Ivy looked to the ceiling to run through her list of potential first stops. “Well…I’ve got a friend over on Newmi who’s really into the black market, especially when it comes to machines. The guy likes to tinker and fuck around and all that. Odds are, if something just entered the market, he already knows about it. If you’ve got no other ideas, I say we start there.”

Already his escapades were beginning to pay off. A hero started his journey with a drink, afterall.

“Sounds like Newmi's our next stop, then!” Seven searched for the planet on his starmap. Planet #XBN7-1253, deemed “[ON-WATCH]” by the map’s label.

The course was set. Though he wasn't quite sure what to make of Ivy just yet, Seven felt a slight twinge of relief having a helping hand on board. What’s better, she could fight, a skill that would certainly come in handy as they journeyed deeper into the abyss of forever.

Seven gazed upon the starry painting of the Vast Expanse as he prepared the ship for Quantum Leap. “You have exposure to QL travel, right?” He asked his lazing accomplice. 

Ivy answered with an uncaring thumbs up. That was all he needed to hear.

The quiet buzz of the engines radiated through the ship as the QL came to life. Seven felt the vibrating field swallow his being whole. Within a matter of seconds, the starry painting blurred into a swirl of tye-dye colors and abstract shapes.

Seven now hurtled, full-speed towards his destiny; All abandon now engulfing his heart. Whatever lay in wait for him in the Vast Expanse, Seven the Exile would meet it with determined purpose. Returning home without the Eterna Core in hand was no longer an option he would entertain.