Bambambam!

“Ugh. What time is it?” Mari groaned as the hollow metallic sound jolted her out of sleep. Echoes of lustful fever-dreams lingered in her mind, thanks to a certain silver-skinned stranger.

He hadn’t even given her his name, and yet he had the audacity to haunt her in his sleep. She shuddered, trying to shake off the strange sense of longing that had invaded every single one of her senses.

Above her, a slow fan stirred the sluggish air, doing little to improve the sweltering temperature. Mari sat up and pulled on a thin t-shirt. She stared at the ceiling, squinting at the faint holo-projection.

12:31pm

Shit. It was already past midday. No wonder it was so hot. Panic gripped her as she rolled out of bed and tugged on a pair of loose shorts. She was late, and she had nothing for the Collector.

How the hell was she going to talk her way out of this one? She’d think of something; she always did.

“Artoo,” she hissed, peering through a hole in the floorboards. “Who’s out there?”

Seconds later, her little brother pulled himself up the drop-ladder, taking it two rungs at a time. He wore a panicked expression. “First, you bring home some big-shot alien, and now there are mean-looking thugs at our door? What did you do last night, sis?”

“Thugs?” Shit. Mari crossed the floor and peered through the view-hole in the wall, where a small rectangular mirror reflected the entrance below. Standing in the red dust were four dark-suited men. With their slicked back hair and reflective holo-glasses, they reminded her of sharks.

The man in front—the one banging on the door with his big, tattooed fist—was all too familiar. Cold unease swirled around in the pit of her stomach.

“Hey, Blue, don’t waste my fuckin’ time. Ya know what happens to people who waste my time.” His raspy voice penetrated the thin walls, making her skin crawl.

The Collector.

He was here, at her fucking home! The asshole rarely ever ventured out of his domain—gangsters hated getting their feet dirty in the dusty streets of the slums—but now he was here, banging on her door.

She turned to Arturo. “Stay here, little bro. Pull up the drop-ladder and don’t make a sound. Anything happens to me, you know where the treasure chest is. You know what you have to do. Take it and don’t ever look back.”

“No fucking way. I’m not gonna run away and leave you to deal with these dickwads on your own.” He grabbed her arm and looked up at her with eyes that were full of anger and fear and… helplessness. That was the worst thing about living in the Dust Alleys. When the sharks came knocking at your door, there was nothing you could do. Unable to run, fight, or go to the authorities, Mari and Artoo were very much on their own.

“Arturo,” she said, cupping his face in her hands. “You will not do anything to put yourself in danger. Please, Artoo. These people will kill you just for breathing their air. Just stay up here and keep quiet.”

“I’ll climb out of the roof-hatch and run to the nearest Enforcer station.”

Sadness crept over Mari as she shook her head. “Don’t. You really think the Enforcers are going to set foot in the Dust Alleys?” She hated to chip away at Artoo’s naivete—a twelve year old boy should be allowed to have some faith in the world—but she didn’t want Artoo to be logged by Enforcement, especially when there was no chance in hell they’d attend a disturbance all the way out here.

She’d heard the stories. The nature of his complaint—an incident involving organized crime figures—could negatively affect his MQ and ruin his chances of entering the Federation for good.

Not on my watch.

“Artoo, just go.” Mari fought to keep her voice from wavering as she planted a kiss on her brother’s forehead. “I’ll be fine. You know I can talk my way out of almost anything.” She forced a smile.

Boom! A deafening blast came from below, followed by a metallic groan.

A split-second later, there was a monumental crash.

The door had fallen in.

“Artoo, take the treasure chest and get out of here. Don’t argue. Just go.”

“Run with me, sis,” Artoo pleaded. “Let’s leave this shithole and never come back.”

But where would we go? The thought of running away had crossed Mari’s mind many times, but it was pointless.

If they went into Teluria without a Citizen-ID, they’d eventually be caught and deported back to Darkside. If they tried to hitch a ride on an illegal transport, they’d probably end up somewhere even worse, with no credits, no home, and no identity. If they ran into the desert… well, nobody could survive in the desert. There were no roads and no land-vehicles going in and out of Teluria, and worse, she’d heard chilling rumors of crazies and monsters existing out there. Folks had wandered into the desert and disappeared, never to be heard from again.

And everywhere they went in Darkside, they would be followed. The Syndicate had eyes and ears everywhere.

The only way out was by air.

If Mari ran now, they’d catch up with her eventually, and everyone knew what happened to those who ran from the Syndicate.

They’d kill her. They’d dissolve her body in acid and obliterate any trace of her existence from the face of the Earth. Then they would do the same to Artoo just for being with her; just to deter anybody from getting ideas.

He would only be safe if he ran on his own.

“Ya get down here now, honey Blue. I know yer up there. I can smell ya. Don’t make me come up after ya. Ya wouldn’t like it.”

“Artoo, go!” Mari pushed her little brother toward the roof-hatch. To her relief, he got the idea and started to move. She thrust her hand into a tear in her mattress and retrieved the treasure chest—a small grey metal box. Inside were various credit chips and the precious krath. She tossed the box to Arturo. “Should be just enough in there to pay the MQ exam fee and buy a night in a sleeping pod.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. Good thing Artoo was a decent lip-reader. “Remember what we talked about? Go to one of the Teluria gate-offices. You’re already registered for the exam, all you have to do is pay. They’ll log your bio-print and give you a single-entry pass for Teluria. Get inside as quickly as you can, but whatever you do, don’t show them the alien coin. That’s ours. Just do it, little bro, and don’t look back.”

If you don’t see me again… She didn’t say the obvious truth.

Clangclangclang. The drop-ladder fell. Footsteps echoed on the metal rungs. They were coming. Artoo tucked the treasure chest into his jacket and pushed out the roof-hatch, all the while staring at Mari with worried eyes.

“See ya soon,” she said gently, giving him a push. “Now, vamosh.”

Artoo climbed through, easily pulling his slender body through the narrow opening. He turned and glanced back at her, shaking his head. His jaw jutted out at a stubborn angle. “I’m gonna go and find that boss alien who likes you. He would want to know about this.”

“But what can he… Artoo, don’t fuck this up—”

But Artoo was already gone. The hatch dropped into place with a quiet click, just as a familiar figure emerged from below.

The Collector grinned, displaying perfectly black teeth. “Hello, Blue.”