Never Enough: Outlaw Star Fanfic
The universe can be an empty place; empty and lonely. People get lonely; they sometimes feel that their lives aren't really going anywhere. Out in the vast reaches of space, loneliness is as common as the stars. Different people deal with it in different ways. Some take up arms and defend justice with the military. Others defy the law by becoming pirates; killing, thieving, and merciless.
Aside from the normal, every day citizen, the third class is that of the outlaws. Most are reclusive, preferring to be alone as they live their lives, somewhere in between the two extremes. Yet, some travel with friends, performing odd jobs at random to make ends meet.
"What's eatin' ya tonight, Starwind?" the man behind the bar asked a customer.
The young, twenty-year-old outlaw sitting at the counter could barely be called a man--a young man at the most. His youthful face, however, reflected hardships not experienced by most his age, and his dark blue eyes expressed a concealed intelligence. Bright red hair hung in front of piercing eyes, hiding them from view. His most noticeable features were twin scars on his left cheek. He had many other scars on his arms, covered by a heavy brown cloak draped around him, and they also adorned his legs and well-built upper body, giving him an overall rough appearance which intimidated most people he encountered.
"Nothing."
"I guess, if you say so." He knew better than to prod.
Staring at his glass as he swirled the ice in the drink, the young man wondered if something really was bothering him. He wasn't usually as gloomy as he was then, but once in a while he just felt downhearted and had no clue as to why. The tragic death of his father often came back to haunt him, and more often than not, it was the root of his sadness. It could have been because of the lack of jobs on his home planet, Sentinal III, but the answer was probably a more evident one. Whatever it was, it was depressing him, and when he was unhappy about something, he drank.
He looked up when the door opened, and a girl sat down a couple stools away. A familiar feeling overcame him: lust. He had come to know it well as the number of one-night stands began to add up throughout the years. As he watched her out of the corner of his eye, the sensation came on stronger.
"Excuse me," she said to the bar tender.
A graying, balding, chubby, yet cheerful man, he smiled at the girl. "Yeah?"
"I'm not from around here, so I was wondering if you could help me. I'm looking for some help with... a little problem. If you know of someone who would be willing to take a job, I'd be grateful."
"You mean an outlaw?"
"For lack of a better word..." She shrugged.
He nodded toward the red-headed boy sitting nearby, half listening to their conversation, half thinking his own thoughts. "He could probly help ya more than I could."
"Thanks." The girl moved closer to the designated outlaw.
He looked up. "What?"
"Maybe you could help me?" She smiled.
"Help you how?" He could think of many ways he could be of service to this girl.
She glanced around. "Well... Could we go somewhere more private?"
A sly grin spread across his scarred face. "Oh, that kind of help. I see."
She looked him in the eye. "Sorry to disappoint you, but this is purely business. Are you interested or not?"
"Hmm... I don't know..." At the moment, he wasn't really in the mood to take a job.
"Take your time thinking." She shook her long, blondie-orange tresses so that they fell about her shoulders and framed her face.
The act only caused his hunger to intensify. He stared at her, his insides burning with desire. The girl was beautiful, no doubt, having long blonde hair with orangish streaks, and contrasting violet eyes. She was tall, for a woman, and had long legs that were noticeable through thigh-high slits in the slim black, spaghetti-strapped dress that fell to her feet. The low cut showed off her cleavage, which of course, the outlaw noticed.
After several seconds of silence, the girl met his gaze. "So do you have a name, or do I just call you Red?" She did her best to smile.
"It's Gene. Gene Starwind."
She looked away and distracted herself by ordering a drink.
"So?"
"So what?" She glanced back at him.
"Got a name? Or do I call ya... Blondie?" He went back to swirling the ice in his drink.
"Oh. Ayanna Taline."
He took a swig from his glass. Surprisingly, his depression was beginning to subside. "Uh-huh. So about this job?"
"Well, I..." She lowered her voice. "I really don't feel comfortable talking about it here."
"No one here cares. They don't pay attention to what goes on around them. All they're worried about--"
"Will you just humor me?" she snapped. "I'd rather play it safe than be sorry.
"Alright, if you feel like that." Gene stood up. "I suppose we could go back to my place, if it's alright with you?"
"Sounds great. Let's go." She pulled money out of her purse for both of their drinks.
"Hey, whoa! What are you doing?" Pushing her hand away, he said, "I'm paying for myself, thank you." Then to the bar tender, he added, "Put it on my tab. Hers too."
Ayanna thrust the money into the man's hand. "He's not paying for me."
Gene grumbled. "If it makes you that happy."
"Yes. And that's for both of us." She followed Gene out the door and onto the street.
The night air was cool, making Ayanna wish she had picked out a different outfit to go recruiting in. She had needed something that would get her noticed, and the slinky black dress had been getting her looks and side glances since she arrived on Sentinal III. This Starwind character was almost certainly attracted to her. If there was one thing she knew, it was men. They had always been so predictable and easy to manipulate, and all a girl had to do was show some flesh to turn them into drooling idiots.
After walking in silence for a few minutes, Gene asked, "What's your deal?"
"What do you mean?"
"With this job. What is it, exactly?" Her reluctance to elaborate on it was making him think it was something dangerous or illegal.
"Well..." She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. "Basically I'm hiring you as a bodyguard. Personally, I don't think I need one, but daddy worries about me.."
"Uh-huh... and who do you need bodyguarding from?"
"Five years ago, the company my father worked for, Orcalix, was bought out by a larger company called Steegreb Industries. Aparentally, they were paying the president of Orcalix a good deal of money to cooperate and let them use the building as a base for underground drug and weapon smuggling. The president kept on only the employees he knew well and felt he could trust, my father being one of them."
Gene interrupted her. "So your old man is a smuggler?"
Ayanna shrugged. "When you come right down to it, yeah. About a week ago, though, he told Mr. Richenson, the president of Orcalix, that he wanted out. He told him no, but daddy persisted, and finally just left. Steegreb was afraid dad would nark to the authorities, so he sent assasins after him." She looked up at the night sky and whispered, "I hope he's okay."
"Where is he?"
"On a newly colonized planet. He sent me to get protection, because he was worried that they'd try to get to him through me. Hopefully he'll remain undiscovered long enough for me to get rid of the assasins." She paused and laughed, realizing that she didn't need any help. "I guess that's that. Anyway, thanks for listening to me. Maybe that's all I needed." She stopped walking.
"What? No. You can't go after them by yourself." He puffed up with pride. "I'm a professional."
Ayanna grinned. "Thanks for your enthusiasm, and I'm sorry I wasted your time like this. But I just now realized that this is my fight, and I don't need to get anyone else involved."
"No prob. Glad I could help you... make up your mind." He grumbled something unitelligible.
"What was that?" Ayanna raised an eyebrow.
Gene sighed. "Nothing. I just, I needed the job. It's okay. I'll go look somewhere else." He nodded his head at her. "Nice meeting you."
Ayanna stood and watched him continue on, staring at the ground as he walked.
Why me? Dammit, now I feel bad. She thought for awhile, watching him, and she noticed a shadowy figure a ways down the street. She picked up a brisk pace to catch back up with Gene, who turned around when he heard her footsteps. He began to say something, but Ayanna silenced him with a finger to his lips. She pulled a Castor gun from the holster strapped around her thigh, which Gene had failed to notice earlier.
"What's going on?" He stared with wide eyes as Ayanna held the Castor like a pro. Then he saw what she was looking at, and pulled his own gun.
"Keep walking," she instructed. When the person stepped into the light, she stopped and gasped. "Shit!"
Gene saw thier alleged attacker and stopped along side her, lowering his Castor.
Ayanna touched his shoulder. "Get ready to run."
"Wait, what?"
"It's a Ctarl-Ctarl. It'd be best to avoid a fight." She lowered her gun and started backing away.
The Ctarl-Ctarl, part of a race of half human-half animals, snarled menacingly. Her pointed white teeth gleamed in the moonlight.
"Gene, don't just stand there, she'll kill you." Ayanna continued in the opposite direction as the Ctarl-Ctarl came bounding at them. Ayanna brought her Castor up.
"Ayanna, no!" Gene shouted, getting in between her and the Ctarl-Ctarl.
The Ctarl-Ctarl spoke: "Gene Starwind, you horny, horny man, you."
Ayanna stared, astonished. "Gene...?"
"Aisha, what are you doing out here?" he asked the Ctarl-Ctarl.
"I'm just out for a stroll." She studied Ayanna. "Find a new girlfriend?"
"I... uh... no."
"So, who is she then?"
"Well..." He looked questioningly at Ayanna.
She still had a slighly puzzled expression on her face. "I'm just looking for an outlaw to hire as a bodyguard."
"But... I thought--" Gene began.
"I've gotta stop letting my pride get in the way of my better judgement. You still want the job?" She winked.
"How much are we talking?"