Opening Day

[Theatre Cat]

Space. The final frontier.

The exploration vessel cruised through space, accompanied by a stirring, triumphant soundtrack. Its elegant yet structurally dubious form was highlighted against a vast and impressive field of stars and nebulae.

“Captain,” the ship’s android science officer interrupted the music, “sensors are detecting a hyperspace gravitational distortion approaching at superluminal velocity.”

The captain, tugging at his ill-fitting uniform tunic, gave an inward sigh as he prepared himself for the inevitable forthcoming onslaught of meaningless technobabble.

“Analysis?” he asked, resignedly. After a couple of five-year missions, he was becoming heartily sick of this android, the badly-fitting uniforms, the beige carpet on the bridge.... Definitely time, he told himself, to retire from the fleet, maybe even start making wine with his brother on the family vineyard in Picardy.

“The anomaly is increasing in intensity at an exponential rate,” declared the science officer. “On its current trajectory, its position will be coincident with our own in approximately three point zero seven one five nine six…”

The bridge crew was spared further precision as the three seconds expired, and the exploration vessel’s delicate hull was flattened across the 40-meter thick armoured bow of the enormous warship that dropped out of hyperspace at their location.

A fraction of a second later, the explosion of the explorer’s antimatter reactor put an end to the android’s technobabble with decisive finality.

---

Alarms sounded in the dimly-lit Combat Information Centre of Shield Coalition Brigade Assault Carrier CXVII as the explosion shuddered through the 2200-meter length of the colossal ship.

“What was that? Status report!” barked Brigadier Maxine Morales, straightening her hardsuited body in her command chair.

“Antimatter mine?” suggested the Tactical Officer, checking his screens. He looked more closely, as the reports came in. “No, it looks like we hit another ship.”

Brigadier Morales turned to the Navigation Officer with annoyance. “I thought there wasn’t supposed to be any traffic in this area.”

The Navigation Officer shrugged (to the extent that a three-headed snake can shrug). “We’re far from any known trade routes,” she replied, in that detached, annoyingly superior tone that Lamians always seemed to use. “The odds against our emerging from hyperspace within sensor range of another ship are astronomical.”

The Brigadier scowled at the glowing screens before her.

“Communications, open a channel to Division HQ. I’ll need to make a report.”

Damn it, she fumed to herself, I hate paperwork.

---

A hundred light years away, another frontier was being opened up.

Fifty years had passed since the establishment of the first permanent settlement on the planet Kinseiyon, and the colony was thriving. From its origin as a support base for asteroid mining, the local economy had expanded into manufacturing, agriculture, and trade, and the population had grown to over a million, living in domed cities clustered around the original spaceport. The planetary economy had become prosperous enough that, twenty-three years ago, the local government had decided to invest in a massive global terraforming project.

The terraforming had been extremely successful, and was completed far ahead of schedule. From space, broad swathes of the planetary surface, barren desert only two decades ago, were now visibly green with young vegetation. The mandatory test period had concluded, and the results showed that Kinseiyon now supported a stable, temperate climate, suitable for Terrestrial life. The colony’s fiftieth anniversary celebrations were therefore to culminate in the most anticipated event in the planet’s history since the introduction of running water: Opening Day, on which the vast bubble dome would be removed from the crater-city of Shin Graviton, and the capital’s residents would, many for the first time in their lives, walk under the open sky.

Naturally, a festival on the scale of Shin Graviton’s Opening Day celebrations takes a lot of effort. The party had been in the works for years, and the preparations had drawn in contractors and suppliers from across the known galaxy. The festival was to be an unparalleled exhibition of all that the city and the planet had to offer. There was to be something for everyone, from street parties, to cultural fairs, to sporting events. Now that the party was beginning, visitors of all kinds and from all places were pouring in.

And of course, there was still plenty of last-minute business being carried out.

“Score!” shouted Lucy-M, exuberantly, as she tallied up the day’s sales. The pink-haired cyborg grinned from ear to ear as she and her captain and business partner Rick Chance walked down the crowded street of the spaceport. “I never would have guessed that your crate of live fish would bring in so much.”

“Well, I figured there would be a lot of demand for it at this festival, and a newly-terraformed planet isn’t going to have any good domestically-produced seafood,” Rick shrugged. “Stands to reason. I’m just glad you were able to keep that old stasis pod running; I wouldn’t fancy having to clean half a ton of rotten mackerel out of the Goose’s cargo hold.”

“Hey, have you ever seen a machine die under my care?” asked Lucy-M, somewhat immodestly. “But, seriously, we ought to replace that old thing. It’s not going to last forever.”

“I’d love to,” agreed Rick, stroking his moustache, “but you know what those things cost; we can’t even afford a new old stasis pod. We were lucky to get a hold of the one we’ve got.” He glanced at the cargo manifest displayed on the datapad in his first mate’s hand. “Is that everything for this trip? If we’re done, then we’ve got another cargo to pick up.”

“Another one? This friend of yours is a real slave-driver.”

“Marshall really helped me out when I was just starting out in business, sent a lot of jobs my way. I could hardly turn him down when he asked me to give him a hand with this one.” Rick grinned. “Anyway, I didn’t think I’d ever live to hear you complain about making money.”

“Yeah. I just don’t want to crash before the party starts.”

“Oh, that reminds me: Did you submit our entry forms for the airbike race?” asked Rick.

“As soon as we landed. That trophy is mine!” Lucy-M grinned fiercely.

Rick laughed. “Don’t go counting your trophies, yet! I’ll bet there’s going to be a lot of competition, at a big event like this.”

“Bring ‘em on!”

Chuckling, Rick shook his head. “Okay. Try to show some restraint, though; we don’t want you losing any more body parts.”

Arriving at the landing bay that housed the Galaxy Goose, the pair boarded the old freighter and prepared it for another flight up to the cargo fleet in planetary orbit.

[Raye Kinezono]

In the heart of the city of Shin Graviton, a pair of women walked through the crowds. One of the women was average in build, and a little over five feet tall. She had pinkish hair that hung loosely over her shoulders. Her lively turquoise eyes positively sparkled as she walked. The woman next to her was slightly taller and sported red hair, pulled into a ponytail, and radiant azure blue eyes.

Both appeared to be Asian in descent, and were engaged in a lively discussion as they walked through the city. The most striking feature about these two women, perhaps, wasn't the uniforms they were wearing that denoted them as part of the terraforming crew, but the group of six girls that followed behind them in perfect formation.

Each of the six girls were exactly identical in appearance. Each had an expressionless face, dull red eyes that lacked any kind of life, and red hair that was similar to the blue-eyed redhead. While this drew the gaze of people that they walked past, not a one of them looked around at the city. Their gaze remained fixed directly ahead at the two women ahead of them.

"It's really amazing," the redhead, Rayearth Minako Kinezono, said as she looked up at the dome above them. "Some of these people will be able to walk under open sky for the first time in their lives. I guess you just take it for granted, when it's always there. Hell, I've almost forgotten what real air smelled like."

"That's only natural, I guess," the pink-haired woman, Akari Kamagishi, replied. "Especially since we've been here for about twenty years now."

"Twenty years?" Raye paused for a moment. "Has it really been that long?"

"Uhm, yeah," Akari answered. "How is it that I can remember it, when you're the one with the internal chronometer? You should always have a handle on what time it is."

"Yeah, I know," Raye shrugged while thumbing to the group behind them. "But unlike them, I don't have to be conscious of it all the time. I can let it go and actually forget what time it is, if I want to."

"Speaking of time," Akari smirked. "I noticed you haven't aged very much since we got here."

"I know," Raye replied. "Once I found out how old you really are, and that you weren't aging either, I deactivated that. Can't go getting old on you, now can I?"

"Oh, that, right." Akari chuckled. She wasn't sure how Raye would take it, but she knew that with them working in close quarters for so many years, it would only be a matter of time before Raye found out about her Juraian origins. It only took one year before Raye had put the pieces together. She took it far better than Akari thought she would. But by then, they had a bond so strong, that nothing could have possibly torn the two apart.

"Well then," the redhead's words roused Akari out of her thoughts. "Seeing as how our job here is virtually done, I guess we'll be heading back home? That's kind of sad, because I was really starting to like the place."

"I don't think we have to leave so soon," Akari mused. "Besides to leave before the big party would just be wrong. And hey, you never know when your mother might want to establish an office on this settlement."

"Heh, wouldn't that be nice?" Raye chuckled. "To be able to settle down on this planet and maybe even raise a family."

"Wow, you have gotten better," Akari said in surprise. "When we left Earth, you were so morose that I thought you'd never even look at another man in your entire life. I guess my request to take you out here really helped."

Raye stopped dead in her tracks. "You mean to tell me that it was you who suggested that I come out here?"

"That's right." The pink haired girl smiled. "I had to do something to get you to rise up out of the ashes of your broken and burned heart. And it looks like it worked, because you are your old self again."

"Wow, t-thanks." Raye was at a loss for words, so she just managed out a short two word reply. She remembered the day some twenty years ago when her mother approached her and practically ordered her to accompany the attachment of Second-types that were being shipped to some off the wall frontier planet for a terraforming project, to get her mind off of her heartache.

Thanks to the Seconds' ability to work in an environment without an atmosphere and other hostile locations, they were able to cut off a lot of time needed in the preparation for the terraforming.

Back then, Raye remembered how she used to hate this planet, and everything about it. Now, as she looked around, it felt like home to her, and she was hesitant and perhaps even a little uncomfortable with the thought of having to leave it. The place had grown on her, and she was actually contemplating on making a life here.

"Hey!" Akari exclaimed and waved a hand in front of Raye's face. "Is your CPU so old that it can't handle a simple act of kindness and it froze up?"

Raye stepped out of her thought and glared at Akari. "Hey! I'm not just so cheap that I fall apart or freeze up! I had a good creator. You of all people should know that."

"I know," Akari smiled mischieviously. "But you looked lost in your thoughts and stopped walking. I was beginning to worry that you were suffering from a HY-TEK infestation."

"HY-TEK invas--?" Raye immediately locked her glance with Akari. "AS IF! That company went out of business ages ago! I'm insulted that you'd even think that I'd use inferior equipment!"

"Good, good," Akari chuckled. "Then you're perfectly all right. Let's get these girls back to the ship for maintenance, and then we can come back down and relax for a while, huh?"

"All right!" Raye cheered. "I expect it to be your treat this time, Akari-chan!" She then turned to the group of Second-types behind her. "Alright girls, we're headed back to the port!"

"Exactly!" Akari agreed, but then blinked and started to chase after the redhead and the group of Seconds that were pulling ahead of her. "Hey wait! RAYE! You tricked me!"

"So I did!" Raye replied. "But you did it to me last time." She then grinned widely. "Oh, and last one to the ship has to pay for the drinks too."

"What?!" Akari exclaimed as she chased the group into the landing bay. "No way! That's not fair!"

Along the way, Raye and the group of Seconds passed by a pink-haired cyborg that was about to board a nearby ship and nearly ran her over.

"I'm sorry about that," Akari apologized as she bowed. "Please forgive her, miss. She didn't mean to do that, she just got excited." Akari then looked at the group running away. "CRAP! I'll be damned if I have to pay for the drinks too! Excuse me!" She then took off like a shot, chasing after Raye and the Seconds.

[Kid-Wolf]

*Somewhere near the entrance of the spaceport a catgirl having a frying pan on her hip, a bunnygirl with glasses and lage wind up clock, wolfboy, and a human that has a sword on his right hip were heading off towards the town square*

Wolf: Now why are we here again?

Kid: Don't you remeber Kitty's ship blew out its engine and we had to land out her to get it repaired.

Kitty: I can't believe that I have to shut things down at that slow of a pace.

Bunny: Well he told you that if you power down the Fox-Wing in a slow manner it won't dammage the engines, but no you had to do an emergency power down which caused the engines to blow out like that.

Kid: All I can say is that you better be greatful that this place was nearby, or Wolf and I would of had to tow you to the nearest station, or I would have tried my hands on jimmy rigging the ship for you so you could handle yourself for a bit.

Wolf: So do you have enough for the repairs and maintence check on all of the ships?

Kid: Just enough to cover the basics, and to take up a room at a hotel for a while until the repairs are complete. Well anyways this place does look like a good place to setup my shop again.

Wolf: You don't mean you're going to open a blacksmith shop here now are you? You know you always tend to bring in the stange and the odd especially when you use those runes.

Bunny: Speaking of those which ones did you bring this time?

Kid: All of them. The two that my father gave me, the two that I found on Jurai and one I somehow picked up on that strange plannet I think it started with a V or something of that sort.

Wolf: So which pattern do you have on youre blade this time?

Kid: The very last one that I talked about. So let's go and find a place to set up shop first then we can check this place out.

*With that they group was finally in the middle of the town square to check out the place to see if there was an open building to set up shop, or finding an exisiting blacksmith shop.*

[Uncle Pervy]

When a momentuous occasion, such as the opening of a new habitable world, comes about is is only natural that the security forces come to expect some troubles. Agressive interstellar powers, madmen looking to make a name for themselves, revolutions, wannabe Alexanders the Great, random Saiyajin, and so on.

As such, a couple dozen of rickety vessels that can be classified as something between personal shuttles and emergency lifeboats approaching the planet is not classified as too much of a tragedy. A few space punks here and there aren't going to be a huge problem, and it rather against regulations to fire upon something that hasn't made hostile motions.

Still, one would be hard pressed to consider these shuttles a threat. At best, they seem to be warp engines with a shell, a life support system, and a seat installed around them. The hulls are covered with bolted-on steel, random fins and lights; and painted a garish red. Various crude pictures adorn them, depicting flames, basic humanoid figures, and the like.

The fleet descends upon Shin Graviton, the atmosphere quickly carrying the sounds of roaring engines and what can be dimly recognized as a lot of sound systems blaring out guitar music played at near insane speeds. This is rather difficult for the inexperienced ear to pick out, as the music is by no means sychronized and thus clashes together into an arhythmic mush of soundwaves, which the excessively loud engines can barely worsen.

Some might consider it a small blessing they actually stopped for the dome's soon-to-be-defunct airlock, rather than simply trying to ram through it.

Upon paying the entry fee with what seem like a number of teeth, rather than heading for the parking area, the score and a half of shuttles blast into the air over the city itself. Thankfully, they seem to be flying over most of the air traffic, and the terrible racket is enough to warn most folks away.

After circling the city twice, they begin to land at what can be affectionately called the junkyard. Many who were annoyed with their skipping of the designated docking area may come to admit that it was for the best, as the landing is anything but tidy. The first few ships land well enough. Then one of them slams into a particularly sturdy pile of debris, and firmly lodges there. Another hits the ground a bit too fast, bouncing back into the air, rolling end over end, before sliding across the ground and coming to rest at a fence. Another sildes into mountain of old tires, and the ship is quickly buried in the resulting avalanche.

But the whole fleet, as it were, is able to land without causing any explosions or fires, or damage to property that people actually live in.

The engines cut, and so do some of the blaring sound systems, reducing the cacophony from a wall of solid noise to a mishmash of wailing guitars where a patient listener might be able to make out a chord or two. Slowly, the pilots make their way out of the ships, shaking off the sudden change of velocity and stretching. Many of them are tall, easily exceeding the largest of humans, and with musculature that could be easily applied to an ox or rhinosaurus. Most of them are dressed in what seems to be black leather, studded with a number of spikes in a variety of places. To a one, each bears rather impressive tusks.

Some smaller creatures also make their way out from the shuttles, leaving one to imagine exactly how they fit inside in the first place. Likely it was not comfortable, given the amount of stretching they are doing. A particularly sharp eye might notice something small and blue leaping from the back of a ship into a pile of junk, and vanishing. Others are more likely to note that sort sort of human is emerging from one of the shuttles, wearing green paint and dressed like the orks around him; though with screws in place of spikes. A pair of tusks are painted onto his face above his upper lip, and a hunk of metal over his lower jaw held in place by some string.

"Roit, ladz!" shouts one of the orks, "Set 'er up! Den we'll be seein' 'bout dis roace, eh?"

[Theatre Cat]

In the control tower of the Kinseiyon spaceport, a young traffic control officer stared, flabbergasted, at the ork "fleet" as it made its uncouth landing in the capital city's scrapyard.

"What the devil...? They can't do that!" he gibbered. Turning to his grey-haired superior, he shouted, almost in hysterics: "Sir! Did you see that?"

"I saw it, son," replied the manager, calmly. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry? Sir, this is against all regulations!"

"Look," the manager continued, ignoring his young subordinate's protests, "They've landed safely, right? They're not in anybody's way." He gestured at the hundreds of blinking lights on the control boards. "With all the ships coming in for the festival, we're going to be having trouble finding a place to park them all, even with the temporary landing fields we've set up. So let's just be glad they're not taking up a docking berth, and leave it at that, okay?"

---

As the orks disembarked from their ships and began limbering up, a small government shuttle hurried towards the scrapyard, in what could only be described as an agitated manner. On board were representatives of the Port Authority and the Department of Tourism, neither of which had really been expecting visitors to approach the city from that direction.

After a quick check to ensure that the ork ships were not about to explode or releasing anything toxic (other than, perhaps, their crews), the government representatives hurried forward to greet the new arrivals.

"Hi! Welcome to Shin Graviton!" gushed the pretty young Tourism official, a wide, bright, and somewhat artificial-looking smile plastered on her face as she bowed to the apparent leader of the orks. "Are you here for the Opening Day Festival? We have brochures showing all the events and activities planned for the next four days! They also have a listing of Shin Graviton's many fine hotels and dining establishments; check page 12 for special Festival group rates! And you can get unlimited monorail passes, good for the duration of the Festival, for only 50 TransGalactic Credits each!"

The Port Authority official merely straightened his glasses, pulled out a datapad, and asked, "Anything to declare?"

---

Kid and his companions made repeated enquiries, but time and again, they met with the same response.

"You've picked a bad time, I'm afraid," declared the government official behind the desk at City Centre. "If you wanted to set up shop in the city during the Opening Day Festival, you should have reserved a place three months ago; that's when we started selling the vending licenses, and most of them were gone the first day. You've seen the crowds outside; this is a big event. Sorry, but you've got to plan ahead for these things." He shook his head, regretfully.

"Blacksmithing, eh?" He thought for a moment. "There are probably lots of tourists who would like to see that. Look, I can't promise you anything, but I might be able to squeeze you into the outdoor fairground when it opens tomorrow. Someone might cancel at the last minute; you never know. There's a waiting list, but a lot of these people have never seen a blacksmith, so I might be able to make an exception for you."

He called up an application form on his monitor. "Just let me get you entered here, and you can come back tomorrow morning to see if you got in. Oh, yes: There's also a 1000 Credit deposit, which is refundable if you don't get a space, and a 50 Credit processing fee."

---

Lucy-M stared after Akari, now departing in pursuit of the gaggle of redheads that had nearly run her down.

"Were those people working on the terraforming project?" she asked, incredulously. "Let's hope this planet will still be habitable five years from now."

Rick, following her gaze, gave the departing women an appreciative once-over, then shrugged.

"Well, their job's pretty much finished now; I'm not surprised that they want to blow off some steam." He turned to his first mate. "Coming? We're on a tight schedule."

Lucy-M followed Rick into the freighter, sealing the hatch behind her. Up in the cockpit, she joined Rick as he went through the pre-flight check and obtained clearance for take-off from Traffic Control. The Galaxy Goose's repulsor drives rumbled as they spun up to speed, and the turbines began to suck air into the ship's lifting thrusters. Rick opened the throttles, and the Galaxy Goose rose into the sky with a blast of hot exhaust gases.

A few minutes later, and they were in low orbit. Rick searched the sky, and quickly picked out the freighter he was looking for from amid the crowd of ships circling the planet. He deftly tapped his control stick, altering his orbital trajectory, and opened a communications channel.

"Tetsuryuu, this is Galaxy Goose, requesting permission to dock."

"Galaxy Goose, this is Tetsuryuu," a gentle, feminine voice crackled from the speaker in reply. "You have permission to dock. Welcome aboard, Rick-san."

Shortly afterwards, the little freighter had drawn alongside the big grey merchant cruiser with the painted green dragons coiling along its 350-meter flanks. Rick expertly docked his ship at one of the waiting cargo bays, bringing the two ships together so gently that he might have used an eggshell for a fender without crushing it. The docking clamps secured the two ships, and he unsealed the Goose's rear cargo door. Unbuckling their seat belts, he and Lucy-M headed down to the cargo bay.

On their arrival, they were greeted by a short, wiry, black-haired man of about 40 years, whose long sideburns were beginning to go grey at the temples. He strode purposefully towards them across the Tetsuryuu's cavernous cargo bay.

"Marshall!" Rick called out, cheerfully, spreading his ams wide.

"Rick-kun!" The two men hugged manfully. "Good to see you. Lucy-M," he nodded a greeting in her direction, then turned back to Rick. "How has business been?"

"Up and down. You know how it is when you're independent." Rick looked around at the hundreds of containers that were being busily sorted around them by the big freighter's cargo-handling robots. "You look as though you're doing pretty well."

"Can't complain. This job is going to look good on the books. Didn't hurt that Mariko's family were big investors in the colony when it started up; TGC snapped up most of the best shipping contracts."

"That's TransGalactic for you," agreed Rick. "So, how's Mariko? I take it from the fact that you got this job that her family has forgiven you for marrying her."

"Yep. Apparently they've decided that, since I seem to be turning into a legitimate and successful businessman, I'm worthy of being related to the family after all."

"Would that I were so lucky," Rick sighed.

"Well, didn't you say that your fiancée was a princess or something like that?" Marshall shook his head in disbelief. "You never were one to do anything by halves, Rick. Anyway," he added, changing the subject, "your next cargo's all ready to be loaded up. Think the robots can handle it?"

Rick turned to Lucy-M, who nodded. "No problem."

"Well, why don't we leave them to it, then, and get caught up for a bit. Mariko's just put some tea on."

[Uncle Pervy]

(OOC: Suggested music: Through the Fire and Flames, by Dragonforce. For best effect, play it at max volume through several different players, each started thirty seconds apart from the prior one.)



The apparant leader of the orks, or at least the one that was shouting orders earlier, is also the largest of the lot; nearly a yard taller the delegates. Some may be worried about the huge, crude-looking iron axe hanging from his belt, other may note the huge and even more crude pistol on his belt and wonder how such a thing could work. He looks toward the representatives and listens while wearing a tusky grin, while his eyebrow ridge (For he was quite hairless) slowly rises in obvious confusion, until the port authority's final question finally causes his jaw to sag open. One can almost hear a subvocal "Uhhhh" escape his throat.

Well, they would hear this if not for the blaring and conflicting music they have had to shout over.

Whilst talking, the delegates have time to get a better look at the smaller creatures, who are perhaps waist height and thinly built, with long noises and big flappy ears like a chihuahua. They seem to be scrambling into and out of the shuttles, carrying out bits of unwieldly and clear cobbled together "technology" that looks to be right at home in the junk heaps.

Perhaps it is to the leader's advantage that the human in their midst, who is most definitely painted green, approaches the Tourism Official with a look of open curiosity often worn by the perpetually clueless. He cuts an interesting figure, to say the least. Neither tall nor short, his build is concealed by what seems to be considerably dirty antique medival armor, stripped down from full plate and definately bearing a number of random screws placed to resemble the spikes favored by many of the orks. A bowl-style helmet conceals his hair. His face would be wholly unremarkable, if not for the green paint and stenciled on tusks over his upper lip. He approaches the Tourism official and says, "Hi!" Then his eyes widen, and in a much deeper voice he adds, "I mean, Oy! Wot's all dis, den?"

Meanwhile, the leader, having picked up his jaw, considers the customs official very carefully, rubbing his chin. "Uhhh," he says at last, "I'll declare I'm Murg Murgshire, an' dese 'ere is Da Fasta Boyz, wot is da fastest ladz wot you ever seen." He finishes this with a decisive nod.

"I'll d'clare I woodn't 'alf fancy a fungus beer!" shouts another Ork, extracting himself from the mountain of tires he landed into.

"I'll declare dat I really 'ate 'ow me seat gives ya piles!" adds another. It does not take long for this trend to build momentum.

"Don't neva take teef wot got more'n tree 'oles!"

"Auh woant mah squi pieh!"

"Wotch out fer Da Yeek!"

"Shut yer gob!" shouts another in apparent response to the last one. This becomes apparent when the current speaker dives at the prior speaker, fist first. The attacked Ork is only too happy to return the favor with a blow to the face as the attacker gets back to his feet. Very quickly, things devolve into a full-out brawl, and the other orks gather around to watch and hoot encouragement.

Amidst all this, audiable really only due to his closeness, Murg asks, "Wot 'bout dat race fing? We gots 'r 'earts on it, y'know! Gonna ride dese babies t' da win." He nods toward the gathered shuttles, which may or may not in fact have some parts of air bikes ingrained into them. Whether airbikes are supposed to be space-worthy; or rather, space survivable, as it would be a lie to call these worthy of anything aside from being in the junkyard; is indeed a stretch. Or if spacebikes are supposed to have cannons large enough for an ork to fit his fist inside...

Meanwhile, the human in ork guise grins quietly toward the tourism official. Then he asks, "'Ow many teef iz dat, an'way?"

The particularly alert among the representatives may note there is one especially sizable shuttle that seems not to have opened yet.

[Raye Kinezono]

"I can't believe that you almost ran that woman over without even so much as an apology," Akari chided Raye as she slipped into the Phoenix's onboard bath. "Are you so eager to get a free meal plus drinks that you'll trample someone in the process?"

"It was an accident," Raye responded as she leaned back in the hot water. "I didn't see her until it was almost too late. I'm not some heartless person who tramples people to get food."

"Hmm," Akari mused as she smirked. "I wonder about that. I seem to remember a certain girl who practically tackled her own sister to get to the last remaining takoyaki on the RecDeck back home."

"Ehe," Raye chuckled sheepishly. "It was the last one and they weren't going to make any more for an hour, and..." She trailed off when she realized that it wasn't helping her any, and only making her look more foolish.

"Uh-huh," Akari replied. "Yeah, I know. You've matured quite a bit since then. Especially when you and your sister got into a serious scrap because of it and your mother grounded the both of you. Not that it matters now, I suppose."

She then leaned back in the bath. "Ahh, there's nothing like a nice hot bath after a long day of work."

"You said it," Raye agreed. "Especially when you get into some of the stuff that the Seconds and I get into. I'm surprised we're actually as clean as we were. I was almost certain that we were going to come out covered in all kinds of grime."

"Given the fact that the planet now has a habitable atmosphere," Akari noted. "You don't deal with some of the dirtier things like you used to. Do you remember when we had to keep five Seconds on standby just so we could rotate them out and clean them so that they wouldn't lock up from being too dirty?"

"Yeah," Raye nodded, amused. "That was fun. I used to come out looking almost totally black sometimes."

"You know you loved it," Akari stated. "Because it gave you an excuse to clean off every time you had to escort a Second back to the maintenance bay. What was it, like ten times a day?"

"Well, of course I liked it," Raye explained. "I mean, who actually likes staying dirty? Besides, if it got bad enough, even I would have fallen victim to a lockup, so it was necessary."

"Of course," Akari chuckled. "Despite all your rough exterior and attitude, you're still just a girl. And what girl doesn't like to be pretty? At least you're not afraid to get dirty if the job calls for it."

"Hey now, was that a jab at Rio?" Raye asked. "Because it was pretty accurate if it was. I've never seen someone who would try so hard to get out of doing dirty work, as if getting dirty was going to kill her or something."

"It didn't take long to figure out why your mother made her VP," Akari replied. "That way she would still be useful and not have to deal with getting dirty. Rio is absolutely fabulous in public relations. And even the holdouts gave in to Rio when she took them on. Despite her oblivious and aloof appearance, she actually knew what she was doing when it came to people. She was actually the one that landed this job, to be honest."

"Really?" Raye queried. "She must have really charmed the person in charge then, because they practically gave us a free hand to work here."

"Yeah, that's just how Rio is," Akari nodded. "She makes one hell of an impression that people don't forget."

A short while later, Raye stepped out of the bath and grabbed a towel and began drying off. "Now that we have the rest of the night off, what do you suppose we do?"

"Well first," Akari said as she stepped out and began drying off. "We hit up our usual restaurant and get some food. Then we can walk around and maybe even do a little shopping, who knows? We've not really had the chance to do any real exploring before, so why not? And with the festival coming, there's going to be a lot of people around, so it should be interesting to see. Plus there's the fairgrounds opening, and the race too."

"Oh yeah!" Raye exclaimed as she walked out of the bath and into one of the crew quarters. "I was thinking of entering that! What the hell did I do with that entry form?"

"Ah, I'm sorry, but no you're not," Akari retorted. "I need you in one piece. And just because you may have become proficient on the airbike doesn't mean you could actually stand a chance against the people who are entering. As for the entry form, I've already sent it back, saying that you won't be entering."

"Aww, but c'mon Akari!" Raye whined as she was getting dressed. "Why not? It'll be fun!"

"Sorry, but no," Akari said sternly, making it clear that she wasn't changing her mind. "Your mother would kill me if she found out that I'd let you participate in it. And since we both know that she's find out somehow, I'd rather like to keep my life, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Raye shrugged as she put her shoes on. "I know, so let's go get some grub, huh?"

A few minutes later, Akari and Raye were back in the city square weaving through the crowds in the direction of their favorite eating establishment.

"Oh yeah," Raye said as she sniffed the air. "Can you smell all that good food? It smells so good. Makes me even hungrier than before."

"Raye!" Akari yelled out. "Watch where you're going!"

"Huh? Watch what?" Raye opened her eyes in time to see a catgirl directly in front of her. She tried to stop quickly, but her forward momentum was still carrying her and she toppled forward onto the unsuspecting catgirl. "Ack!"

With a quick seamless motion that seemed like one singular move, Raye got off the catgirl and back to her feet, helping the catgirl up. "Please forgive me," she apologized. "I wasn't watching where I was going. I was too caught up in the smell of the food. You aren't hurt, I hope?"

"Oh brother," Akari chuckled with a mischievious grin. "Another person trampled for the sake of food. Do I have to put you on a leash, Raye-chan?"

"What?!" Raye shot back, quickly turning her attention from the catgirl to Akari. "Do I look like a dog to you, Akari?"

"Well, you did manage to get tangled up with a cat, so I have to wonder," Akari quickly replied, her grin getting more sinister.

"I didn't do it on purpose, you know!" Raye defended.

"I know," Akari replied. "It was just a joke, I couldn't resist it, especially after that dog comment. It was just too tempting."

"One of these times," Raye shook her head. "One of these times I'll get you for all the times you've gotten me like that."

"Uh-huh," Akari smirked and then pointed to the people behind her. "You forget something?"

"Huh?" Raye blinked and looked. "Oh yeah!"

She then turned back to the catgirl. "I'm sorry... again. Are you alright, miss?"

[Theatre Cat]

The young tourism official's fixed smile faltered for a moment, before resuming its accustomed place.

"Uh... teef, sir?" she asked, hesitantly. Mentally, she sifted through the orks' confusing declarations, searching for traces of meaning, and eventually found something that seemed to relate to her job.

"Oh, you people are here for the race!" she declared, enthusiastically. "We are still accepting entries! Details for entering Festival competitions are on page 35 of the brochure! Your applications can be handled at the City Centre, or at any of the festival booths around the city!"

Meanwhile, the Port Authority official was casting a disapproving eye over the weapons carried by Murg and the other orks.

"I'm afraid that personal weapons are restricted on Kinseiyon. This includes projectile weapons, energy weapons, and blades over ten centimeters in length. You'll have to surrender your weapons to Security officers if you wish to remain on the planet. They'll be kept safely for you, and returned to you at the conclusion of your stay."

"And when I asked if you had anything to declare, I meant, 'Are you bringing anything to the planet for the purposes of sale or trade, or are you importing any dangerous or restricted substances or organisms?'"

He pointed to the large, unopened shuttlecraft. "Are you transporting anything on that shuttle? I'll have to check it out."

[Kid-Wolf]

*A while earlier Kid and Wolf were talking to one of the officials while Kitty and Bunny were waiting near one of the resturants*

Kid: 1050 credits huh? I'm glad I exchanged that money we had into credits before we came here just incase. Ok before we head out where's a good place to stay for a while? Since I'm now running low on funds since... well my ships are under maintence and repairs, and after paying the deposit for the entry fee and all.

Wolf: I'm sure that there is a place still open around here... I hope.

*A while later Kitty was knocked over by Raye right by one of the restaruants*

Kitty: Gah what was that all about? Didn't your mother ever tell you to watch where you are going?

*Just then Raye apologized on knocking her over*

Kitty: Well since you apolgized I guess I'll let it slide this time.

Bunny: Say Kitty why are you in such a bad mood?

Kitty: *turns to Bunny* Well it's because Kid and Wolf are still talking to that offical on setting up a blacksmith shop here, and I'm tired of waiting and I'm hungry.

Bunny: I see nothing get's by you. *turns towards Akari and Raye and bows* I'm sorry about Kitty's short temper. We just got here a little while ago to get our ships repaired, and we're kind of short on funds for now.

[Uncle Pervy]

The human in ork garb nods enthusiastically to the Tourism official. "Yeah, teeth! They're- I mean! Dat's roit, teef! Dey loike dis, see?" and with that, he reachs into his armor and pulls out a small bag made of cloth. Judging from the pocket on the side of it, it seems to be made of an old shirt. Reaching into it, he deftly pulls out a whitish something, then drops it with each deftness. After kneeling down and fishing through the dirt and debris, he grins, picks it up, and presents it proudly. By all appearance, it seems to be an orkish tooth. A closer look reveals that a couple of the roots have been snapped; possibly due to being removed by a blunt object moving at a respectable velocity.

As for Murg, his eyebrow ridge raises again, and he looks upward, while said ridge goes through a number of contortions as he processes the Customs Agent's statements. Finally, he says in almost a conspiratorial tone, "Well, dat kroozer dere, it's Warchief's. 'E's pretty dane-jer-rus, aye. But only when ya get 'im roiled. Or lookit 'im funny. Or say sumfin' stoopid. 'E's waitin' fer da sun t' go down; too much loight makes 'im dead angry. Den da dok's gotta stitch some lad back up."

"We got Da Yeek!" shouts the ork embedded in the tire mountain.

Murg's confusion quickly shifts to an angry glare toward the ork. "Warchief said dey ain't no Yeek, ya dum git!" To punctuate this statement, he produces a spanner from the many tools dangling from his belt and tosses it at the embedded ork. It soundly connects with the ork's skull and leaves him slumped over.

"'E's just bein' stoopid," Murg says reassuringly. "And...uh, ya want our choppas an' our shootas? But, uh, how're we sup'osed t' shoot an' chop fings wot when dey be needin' it? It's...uh..." Like a glacier closing in upon an unsuspecting forest, his eyebrow ridge slowly furrows together, "...uh...loike...uh..."

Then, a look that can only be tied to the phrase 'Eureka!' washes over his features. "It's kultural-loike!"

[Theatre Cat]

The Port Authority official looked somewhat discomfited by Murg's description of the Warchief.

"Well, if it's just his personal transport, then I don't think there's any need to inspect it more closely," he said, glancing nervously at the Warchief's "kroozer" as though hoping it would remain quiescent, or better still, disappear.

Turning back to Murg, he resumed his serious, official tone. "As for your weapons, I very much doubt that you'll find anything here that 'needs' to be shot. As for 'chopping', blades under ten centimeters in length are permitted, and I think you'll find that to be perfectly adequate."

Meanwhile, the Tourism official peered curiously at the proffered ork tooth.

"Oh, teeth!" she exclaimed, relieved comprehension washing over her face. "But... What do you do with them?"

---

At City Centre:

The city official finished entering Kid's application into the computer terminal, then turned back, and replied to his question. "There are lots of hotels and hostels around the city. Any of the Festival booths or the automatic information kiosks will be able to tell you what's available, and at what rates. –Though I'm afraid that by now, you're likely to find that most of the cheaper accomodations have already been taken. It's quite crowded around here, with the Opening Day Festival going on. As I said, it pays to plan ahead."

---

In orbit:

Marshall Iron, founder and director of the Iron Dragon Transport Company, had changed from his work coveralls into a comfortable kimono of dark silk as he and his similarly-attired wife entertained their two guests in the master cabin of the merchant cruiser Tetsuryuu. Rick and Lucy-M were still in their working clothes, but were comfortably seated with their hosts around a low table, their legs folded beneath them.

“…So, last year we established a regular cargo run between Nin and Garog,” Marshall was saying. “It’s up to about a quarter of a million tons a month, these days. I’m thinking about getting another ship, dedicating it to that route. Probably put Ajax in command; he can handle the responsibility.”

“Dear, this isn’t my father you’re talking to,” admonished Mariko, as she refilled Lucy-M’s teacup. “Rick is an old friend. You don’t need to impress him with how successful you are.” The small, elegant woman smiled apologetically at her guests.

“That’s all right,” Rick replied, with a smile. “I’m happy to see that you’re doing so well.” His gesture took in the tastefully expensive, traditional Japanese décor of the cabin. “and now you’ve got six ships over ten thousand tons– You’re in the big leagues! Keep growing at this rate, and TGC’s going to get worried!”

“I’m a long way from that point, yet. But what about you, Rick?” asked Marshall. “Nine years you’ve been in business now, and you’ve still only got one small ship? I know you’ve got enough sense and talent to be doing better than that. What gives?”

Rick shrugged, and grinned. “I guess it depends on what you call ‘doing well’,” he replied. “I’m my own boss. I’m not tied to any particular schedule. I get to travel the galaxy, go where I like, do what I like, and usually get paid for it. I’ve already got pretty much everything I’ve ever wanted; I don’t see how I can do much better than that.”

Marshall grunted. “You always were a hopeless romantic, Rick.” He turned to Lucy-M. “How about you? Rick tells me you’ve got a good head for business. Ever think of pursuing something with a little more opportunity for growth? You’re still young, and I’m sure you’re having fun, but where do you want to be five, ten years from now?”

Lucy-M stammered as she found herself at the centre of attention. “Well, I’m happy being with Rick. –I mean, we do all right, business-wise. And I get to keep my hand in the racing circuit this way, which I wouldn’t be able to do if I were working for a big company. And I’ve got some money set aside, if I ever, you know, decide to do something else.”

“Hey, Marshall, don’t you go trying to steal my business partner from me,” laughed Rick.

Marshall sipped his tea. “Well, as long as you know what you want.”

“So, Rick,” interjected Mariko, changing the subject, “are we going to be able to meet your lovely fiancée?”

“I hope so,” replied Rick. “She couldn’t come to Kinseiyon with us; she had some official state function or other that she had to attend. I’m hoping she’ll be arriving on the Phomurgh highliner that’s due here tomorrow.”

“A Phomurgh ship?” Miko looked surprised. “She must be coming in from quite far away!”

“Yes, it’s something of a long-distance relationship, most of the time.”

“If I were in her position,” said Marshall, “I’d want to keep you where I could keep an eye on you. You always had a weakness for the ladies.”

“Hey!” Rick adopted an offended look. “You knew me back when I was young and restless, but that was years ago!”

“He hasn’t changed that much,” commented Lucy-M.

“Not surprised.” Marshall took another sip of tea.

“It’s all very well for you,” said Rick, in a mock-aggrieved tone, “with your wife and children living aboard with you on your big, comfortable ship. But I regularly have to spend weeks at a time cooped up in my little freighter, with nothing resembling feminine company!”

“Hey!” Lucy-M’s glare suggested that, if her feet had not been folded up under her, one of them would have been directed at Rick’s more tender regions.

A soft chime from Marshall’s communicator interrupted them. After checking it, he announced, “Well, it looks as though they’ve almost finished loading your ship. We’d better get going. There’s still a lot more work to be done before the day is out.”

[Raye Kinezono]

Akari looked sympathetic toward Bunny and Kitty. "You all just got here? I'm sorry, because you're going to have a hell of a time finding any kind of decent lodging."

"Yeah," Raye nodded. "Every place that you could probably afford is already fully booked. About the only place left is the really expensive luxury hotel, which is usually reserved for VIPs and really rich people, which you don't--"

Akari jabbed an elbow into Raye's side, cutting her off. "Quiet, Raye. They don't need your brand of sarcasm right now." Akari then looked at Kitty and Bunny. "You girls look tired and weary. It's not much, but as an apology for Raye running you over, why don't you join us for dinner? And, at least until you can find suitable lodging, would you mind staying with us?"

"Akari!" Raye protested. "I thought--"

"Quiet!" Another elbow jab from Akari silenced Raye's protests. "It's not a huge ship, but the Phoenix was originally a small private luxury liner. It has all the amenities of home, including a life-saving Japanese-style bath that helps me out every day. You're probably not going to find that just yet in any of the hotels here, so at the least, you can relax and unwind and get clean at the same time, because no girl likes to stay dirty, right?"

Akari then held her hand out to Bunny. "So how about it, ladies? Could we help you out?"

[Kid-Wolf]

Kitty: Well we would, but what about our two friends that are still inside the city centere?

Bunny: As much as we would like to go with you we just can't ditch them just like that.

*Just then Kid and Wolf just left the building and noticed two ladies taking to Bunny and Kitty*

Kid: Well we might be able to get a shop for tomorrow if we're lucky.

Wolf: Yeah if the Divine one himself favors you then.

*Just then Wolf noticed Akari and Raye with Bunny and Kitty*

Wolf: Hey Kid do Bunny and Kitty know those two?

Kid: Huh? *looks towards the restaruant nearby* Not to my knowledge, no. Let's check up on them.

*With that Kid and Wolf headed towards Kitty and Bunny*

Wolf: Hey we're done here. We might be able to set up shop here tomorrow. So who are your friends?

Kitty: I'm not really sure, I mean this young one just bumped into me that's all.

Bunny: Yeah and you missed her having a hissy fit.

Wolf: Figgures. Knowing Kitty she always tends to get into trouble. *snif snif* This scent seems vaguly familiar.

Kid: Oh come on Wolf, that's the most lamest pickup line I've ever heard. *turns to Raye and Akari* I apologize my name's Kid, Kid Masterwing, this pup here is Wolf. And I see you've met Kitty and Bunny.

*With Kid's comment Kitty then smacked Wolf with her frying pan*

Wolf: Gah! What was that for?

Bunny: Do you need to ask that obvious question Wolfy?

[Uncle Pervy]

Warchief's krooser seems to be quite content to avoid spilling any sort of gloom or doom upon the colony at this moment, instead resting there quiescently; both it's engines and sound system powered down. Some of the smaller orkoids are grabbing bits of junk and seem to be bolting it together into a sort of lean-to near Warchief's vessel. In fact, it seems several of such structures are going up.

"Yeah, dats wot some 'umies'll say," says Murg in an agreeable tone. "Den next fing ya know, ya'll just be goin' 'bout, mindin' yer own bidness, and den-" he quickly makes a pair of fingerguns at the Customs agent, "DAKKA-DAKKA-DAKKA! Ye've got sum sod havin' a go at ye! 'Appens all de tiome, y'now. 'Specially when dere's racin'." He nods in what seems to be an approxiamately of sageliness. "'Sides. If I lost me chopper, how'm I sup'osed t' make me krooser work wot when it dun wanna?"

During this time, the human in ork's clothing frowns at the tourist official, then says, "Wot else? Ya spend 'em. Dis 'ere'll get ya a squig pie an' a mug o' fungus beer. Get a roit bag, an' ya can get a trukk." He grins, clearly proud of his economic summary.

Of course, one is left to wonder what an ork trukk would be like, aside from apparently worth many meals.

[Theatre Cat]

The customs agent, who was becoming increasingly tense, leaped back in alarm as the huge ork suddenly began making loud machine-gun noises at him. When he realised that no actual violence had been perpetrated upon him as of yet, he took a few deep breaths, in a not-entirely-successful attempt to calm his racing heartbeat. He polished his glasses nervously.

"Er, yes. Right. Um. I really don't think you'll be needing any weapons during the race. None of the other competitors will be armed, either; the rules don't allow it. You can rest assured on that count. For heaven's sake, airbike racing gets violent enough as it is, without the contestants shooting each other!"

He made another attempt to calm down, then resumed.

"As for keeping your, uh, 'krooser' running, isn't that what those are for?" He pointed to the tools hanging from Murg's belt.

The tourism official's eyes brightened as she got the idea about the teeth.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "It's money!" Having sorted out that little problem, the cheerful smile returned to her face, only to freeze there awkwardly when she realised that this left her in no better position to understand the ork-dressed human's first question.

"Uh... I'm afraid I really don't know how many Credits they'd be worth." Thinking quickly, she decided to pass the buck. "After we're done here, why don't you go to the currency exchange at the spaceport? I'm sure they'll be able to sort that out for you!" She flashed one more dazzlingly cheerful smile, accompanied by an awkward little laugh.

[Uncle Pervy]

Murg's eyebrow ridges reenact the wonders of convergant continental drift. "But I use m' choppa t' start th' fing wot when it'z bein' nasty. Choppas an' shootas iz tools, too. An' kultur."

After a moment, he adds, "Wot's a scent tea meeter, anyhow? Dun loike tea."

The human in ork's clothing nods politely to the tourism representative and smiles. After a few seconds, he says, "Wot?"

The brawl seems to be branching out now, as a few of the observing orks decide to join in the fun.

[Raye Kinezono]

Akari turned as Kid and Wolf came walking up. "Well, I don't mind if you don't want to leave them, so let's ask them shall we?"

"But Akari!" Raye protested, deftly avoiding Akari's elbow jab this time. "We don't have the facilities to help out the guys. It would be a big inconvenience to allow males on board."

"Only because you don't like cleaning your quarters, Raye-chan," Akari countered. "And we have the extra rooms, so privacy shouldn't be an issue. The only thing that might be an issue is the bath, since we only have the one, and it's not big enough to segregate into a male and female section. I suppose we could set aside a time for the guys if they wanted to use the bath. That way the male and female times wouldn't overlap."

"Hmph," Raye complained, but a stern look from Akari silenced anything Raye might have said.

Raye then looked at Kid and Wolf and seemed to be giving them the once-over. "Excuse me, are you two dimensional travellers? Because your quantum signature is being distorted. The only time that ever happens is when one crosses dimensions."

"Really?" Akari raised a brow and the looked at Wolf. "It's highly possible that you have met us before then. That would explain the familiar scent. Although, even though it was us, in a way it wasn't. Because we've been here on this planet for the last twenty years, working on the terraforming project. Whoever you met, must have been a parallel dimension version of the two of us. We've dealt with that before, but it was deemed too unstable to use with any practicality, so they dropped the project and sealed it away."

"Akari, enough talking already." Raye said in frustration. "I'm starving! Let's go, please?"

"Oh, yes," Akari nodded. "Would you guys like to join us for dinner? We can discuss any arrangements over a nice hot meal. That way Raye won't get cranky. And trust me, you don't want to have to deal with Raye when she's cranky."

Raye had already walked off and stepped inside the door of the restaurant. She poked her head out just long enough to look at Akari. "C'mon already! I'm burning reserve energy here! If I don't get food soon, my auxiliary reserve is going to be drained too!"

"Yes, I'm coming!" Akari shouted back, with a hint of irritation. "I swear, that girl can be impatient as hell when it comes to food." She then looked at the others. "So, are you coming? It's our treat for tonight."


Inside, Raye was looking over a menu when the chirp of her internal communications system went off. Yes, what is it?

Sorry to bother you, Raye, a female voice responded. I just wanted to let you know that the maintenance on the Seconds is complete. They are requesting time to explore and gather more experience data.

You made good time tonight, Miko, Raye replied. All right, Let them go, but instruct them to stay in groups of twos. I don't want a single one going off alone, understand?

Yes ma'am, Miko answered. I'll relay your exact words. Not a single one will be alone.

That's good, Raye said. You take the rest of the night off, alright. Oh, and just to forewarn you, we will probably be having guests staying with us for a while, so prepare a couple rooms for them and then go off and doo whatever you want when you're done. Alright?

Thank you, ma'am! Miko said cheerfully. Good night!

******

Over in the spaceport, the Phoenix's front loading ramp lowered. Anyone watching would be treated to a most curious sight as twenty Second-types, exactly identical in appearance, began to descend down the ramp, double-file. Once off the ship, they broke into ten separate sets of two each and gathered together, and appeared to be staring at each other for at least twenty seconds. After that, they all went their separate ways toward different areas of the city.

[Theatre Cat]

The customs official was becoming very flustered, indeed. The enormous, thuggish, and very heavily armed creature he was dealing with seemed to be being reasonable (or at least, whatever passed for reason among orks), but was either too stupid or too stubborn to understand that it and its companions would have to give up their weapons if they were to remain on Kinseiyon. He was beginning to think he might end up arguing the point all night, and he really didn't want to be there when the sun went down and the "Warchief" emerged from his ship.

On the other hand, he didn't particularly want to call Security, either. So far, the orks hadn't damaged anything of any value or hurt anyone other than each other, and as long as they remained in the scrapyard, things were likely to stay that way. He also didn't like the way Murg talked about "kultur"; he knew that some cultures had strong beliefs associated with weapons, and he was afraid that things would get ugly if he tried to take the orks' weapons by force.

The pilot of the government shuttle, who had remained on board while the two officials dealt with the orks, felt otherwise. Watching the developing brawl, she decided that something needed to be done before things got out of hand. She turned the shuttle's communicator to the police channel.

"Security, this is Shuttle 415. There is a situation developing at the scrapyard. A group of about thirty new arrivals have started brawling. They are armed. Two government officials are attempting to negotiate with them; they may be in danger."

"Roger that, Shuttle 415. We're sending a security team over right away."

---

Back at the spaceport, Lucy-M was griping.

"I can't believe this! It's bad enough that we've got all that cargo to move before tonight– Now we've got to haul garbage, too?"

"Looks like it," replied Rick. "Even with all the staff they hired for the festival, the municipal services can't keep up with all the extra junk from the worksite and all the tourists. So they're making all the visiting cargo ships take a load out to the junkyard, in exchange for a rebate on docking fees. It's a smart arrangement." Rick stroked his moustache, and frowned as he looked at the trash-filled container being loaded into the Goose's cargo hold. "I can't say I like it, though; I just had the ship scrubbed."

On the adjacent landing platform, two other transport operators were engaged in a heated argument.

"This was a dumb plan!" loudly declared the big, fierce-looking rhuur to his companion, his wide nostrils flaring in anger. "Now we have to move garbage all day!"

"Ah, shaddap!" retorted the hulking, power-armoured human, as he pushed a stinking dumpster up the loading ramp of their ship. "You were the one who wanted to save money on docking fees!"

"But not by moving garbage!" The nine-foot-tall, massively-muscled rhuur grabbed another container between its heavy paws.

"Hey, they told me they'd waive the docking fees if we did some extra work for municipal services. They didn't say what that work was gonna be!" The armoured man wrinkled his nose at the ripe smell that filled the hold of the ship. "Anyway, it's your fault we've gotta save money; you blew all our cash at the casino last night. –Moron."

"It is YOU who is the moron!" shouted the rhuur, flecks of spittle spraying from his fang-filled mouth.

"Hey! Duur, Hank! I didn't know you guys were here, too!" Rick sauntered casually up to the pair. He ran his eyes over the array of overflowing dumpsters stacked in the cargo hold of their ship. "Having fun?"

"Shaddap, Rick," growled Hank "The Tank" West, through gritted, uneven teeth. "At least I get to see you haul trash, too!"

"Always glad to do my civic duty!" replied Rick, with a cheerful smile. "But I'm really impressed that you guys volunteered for extra garbage duty! Now that's real community spirit!"

"It is HIS fault!" declared Duur Klab, pointing a paw at Hank.

"That's very modest of you, Duur," said Rick to the rhuur, "but I'm sure you deserve some of the credit." He looked back at Lucy-M, who was standing impatiently next to the Galaxy Goose, hands on her hips. "Well, looks like you've got a full load there. We're all loaded up, too. If you're ready to go, we'll race you to the dump!"

"Yer on!" The power-armoured man and the rhuur lunged for the hatchway of their transport, and got stuck in the narrow entrance as they reached it simultaneously. As their struggle rapidly developed into a fistfight, Rick sauntered, whistling, back to his ship.

"I don't know why you provoke those two," Lucy-M remarked as they climbed aboard. "They're going to make trouble."

Rick shrugged. "They always make trouble, anyway. I might as well channel it in a harmless direction."

Hank and Duur looked up from their fight to see the Goose lifting off. Realising they were losing the improptu race, they lunged for the door, and immediately got stuck again.

[Uncle Pervy]

"Sooooo" says Murg to the customs official, after a bit of silence punctuated by the sounds of brawling. "Wanna put sum teef on which one'll come out on top?"

Meanwhile, the human in orc's clothing continues to grin expectantly at the Tourism official, his "Whot?" hanging heavily in the air.

[Supase Kadetsu]

The Ixle Pyxl Podrian sailed through space serenely traversing the massive distances between stars. Seen from an exterior viewpoint the Podrian looked much like a metallic acorn against the backdrop of stars and galaxies albiet a rather massive acorn. Of course while the Ixle Pyxl Podrian was massive for an acorn is was rather smallish for a space going vehicle. Once upon a time when Earth navies were still using sailing ships the Podrian was a state-of-the-art freighter. Now it was more likely to be described as 'quaint' or 'rustic'. Or other less complimentary adjectives.

Of course the supposed serenity is all a matter of viewpoint. Inside the ship is a lot less serene. If we were to look inside the ship and watch it's crew....




"Spacey!" Harrison yelled. "Are you even listening to me? I said we're low on reaction mass. We're aren't going to be able to maneuver during re-entry!"

Spacecadet sighed the sigh of a long suffering martyr. "Yes, Harrison, I heard you the first time. What would you like me to do? Dig through my pockets to see if maybe I left some in my pants? Maybe some reaction mass fell down in the couch cushions. I suppose I should check there next."

"I'm glad you can face the prospect of burning to a crisp so lightly," Harrison retorted.

"We are not going to burn to a crisp or even to a light tan," Spacecadet replied. "There's enough reaction mass for several minutes of thrust. Once we're through re-entry we'll just use the manual air brake."

Harrison made a rude noise. "Can't we ever have a normal landing? Just once is all I ask. Just one single time of landing on a planet and not looking like the galaxy's biggest turd coming to rest under a gigantic floating bra."

"We'd have to use it even if we had plenty of reaction mass," Spacecadet said. "It's the terms of the sponsorship." He tapped the intercom for the ship's galley. "Ilya, is that tea done yet? If you're trying to bake cookies I order you to cease and desist. Nothing short of a sudden case of dementia could ever get me to willingly eat your Bob-awful cookies. Ilya?"

Spacecadet was answered with silence.

"Ilya?"

Yet more silence.

"Great, something happened to her, again," Spacecadet groused.

"You might want to find her and secure her," Harrison said. "It's going to get a little bumpy pretty soon."

Spacecadet levered himself out of his command chair and headed for the ship's galley. "Yeah, I needed you to tell me that, Sherlock." In the galley he found the erstwhile crewmember face down in the sink, her curly blonde hair floating in the water. He rolled his eyes as he pressed a button on the back of her neck.

With a jerk Ilya stood up, yanking her face out of the sink filled with water. "Oh my, I did it again, didn't I?"

"You were supposed to be making me a cup of tea, not washing dishes," Spacecadet said. "Why weren't you?"

"Ah, well I thought it would be nice if you had some cookies with your tea but the pans were dirty so I-"

"That explains why you were facedown in a sink full of water," Spacecadet said. "How many times to I need to tell you not to ever cook or bake or have anything to do with any task remotely associated with the preparing of food that is more complex than boiling water?"

"But I thought-"

"That was your first mistake," Spacecadet told her.

Ilya looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry, I'll prepare your tea now-"

"Forget it," Spacecadet said, shrugging. "We're going to be entering Kinseiyon's atmosphere soon. We need to get strapped in."




"So, did you take care of our little princess?" Harrison asked as Spacecadet strapped himself back into the command chair in preparation of entry into Kinseiyon's atmosphere.

"Yeah, she was facedown in the sink again," Spacecadet replied. "Apparently she was in the middle of baking. What a horrible thought. Anyway, she's strapped into her bunk and I took the precaution of turning her off."

"We're picking up a signal from Traffic Control," Harrison said.

"Ignore it, we couldn't obey them even if we wanted to."




The Ixle Pyxl Podrian dropped out of the skies of Kinseiyon and floated down to Shin Graviton supported by the biggest bra ever seen by the inhabitants. The bra sported the Dr Bepper logo with the slogan "Be a Bepper, Drink Dr Bepper!" For any of the Shin Graviton citizens that had lived in Old Graviton this was a bit of nostalgia. If not for the dome there would have been even more nostalgia as the Ixle Pixl Podrian floated down for a landing right on top of the towering City Centre. With a loud "GONG!" the ship hit the very top of the dome and slid down making a loud screeching noise until it came to a rest at the base of the dome.

"I thought we wanted to land near Shin Graviton, not right on top of it," Harrison remarked drily.

"Hey, I had us landing perfect on the spaceport pad," Spacecadet said. "The wind must have carried us."

[Kid-Wolf]

*back in front of the resturant*

Kid: Very well then I am feeling a bit peckish.

Wolf: I guess this time you're lucky boy. You don't have to worry about those rune sets this time.

Kid: Please don't bring that up in coversation over dinner. I don't need another incident like the last few times that I managed to get myself into.

*With that the group followed Akari and Raye inside*

Bunny: So they've been here all this time. I guess they must of done the terraformming work, since I think that's why they're having this celebration and whatnot.

Kitty: How did you know that?

Bunny: Well when we left the spaceport I picked up a broshure about it, and they talked a bit about who was backing the whole thing.

Kitty: Oh that makes sense.

Kid: So your name is Akari is it? It's a very lovely name. Also if my Japanese is correct it means the brightness right? It seems to suit you though.

Wolf: Well I'm starved, and I can eat just about anything that would be considered edible here.

Kitty: And the hollowed pup declairs his hunger now.

Wolf: *glares at Kitty* Hey.

Bunny: *chuclkes* Those two never change.

Kid: Well now that I think about it your offer for us to stay on your ship. Well I know Kitty and Bunny would be acceptable, but as for Wolf and myself... well let's just say we don't want to incur Kitty's wrath with being with such lovely girls other then herself of course.

Wolf: Suck up.

Kid: *ahem* Although Wolf and I need to check up on our ships first since I have my wares to check up on for the festaval tomorrow, and since your ship is at the spaceport I guess I can use the exrta space to check up on my wares.

Wolf: It seems like you aways want to blacksmith in an enclosed space don't ya'?

Kid: Well I can't say anything about tomorrow, but I want to make sure I haven't lost my touch and Wolf's and Kitty's Fox-Wing are too small to work on.

Wolf: Hey what about your ship?

Kid: Oh you mean the Grand-Wing. I somehow managed to upgrade it from a long-range fighter to a small sized frieghter. I would work in there, but it's rather cramped since I haven't unpacked anything yet. Also, it's going to be under maintence as well so I don't want to get in anyone's way.

Kitty: So it sounds like we'll have to accept your offer of housing us Akari. We'll try to find a way to pay you back for your hospitality.

Kid: I guess this is what you would call Divine Fate.

[Theatre Cat]

In the spaceport's control tower, the young traffic control officer was apoplectic.

"Sir! Did you see that? They're completely ignoring the approach vector I assigned!"

This time, his grey-haired superior had no response. He stared, dumbfounded, up at the Ixle Pixyl Podrian as it descended over the city, floating beneath its "manual air brake".

---

In his office in City Centre, the Festival Director was engaged in a frantic telephone call.

"Yes, of course I saw it, sir! If it weren't for the dome, that thing would be draped over City Centre right now!... Yes, sir, I read what it says.... Yes, I expect everyone else in the city could read it, too.... No, sir, this was certainly not authorized by our marketing department.... Yes, sir, we did guarantee that Peppy Cola would have exclusive soft drink rights to the Opening Day Festival.... I'm very sorry sir, but I really don't think this is the sort of thing we could have anticipated!... Anti-aircraft weapons? Yes sir, but isn't that a bit excessive?... Yes, sir.... I'll see what I can do, sir."

He hung up the phone with a sigh. Dealing with the sponsors was his least favourite part of his job.

---

As the Galaxy Goose flew slowly towards the scrapyard, Rick gazed out the cockpit window at the vast piece of lingerie.

"Well, there's someone who knows how to make an entrance," he declared. He furrowed his brow in thought, trying to dredge up a memory. He turned to his first mate. "When was the last time I saw a bra that size?"

"I dunno. Last time Iranna came to visit? Watch your flying."

---

With difficulty, the customs and tourism officials in the scrapyard dragged their attention from the sky back to the orks on the ground.

"I'm sorry, I was, uh, distracted there for a moment!" said the Tourism official, bowing and giving an apologetic giggle. "As I was saying, you should go to the currency exchange at the spaceport, and they'll be able to tell you what you can buy with your teef, uh, teeth! You'll find Shin Graviton has many fine shops and markets! And vendors have come from all over the galaxy for the festival, with lots of exotic goods for sale! You'll find a complete listing on page 20 of the festival brochure!"

Between one thing and another, the Port Authority official was finding it progressively more difficult to get back into his efficient and authoritative persona. He stood, for nearly a minute, in slack-jawed confusion, before replying.

"...You don't like tea? What does that have to do with anything?"

But after a prolonged and laborious mental effort, he finally located a grain of sense in the conversation, and desperately grasped at it like a drowning man.

"Oh, centimeter! Yes. Of course." He spoke slowly and carefully, articulating his words with perhaps unnecessary clarity. "That means that visitors to the city are allowed to carry blades that are this long," he held up two fingers, "or shorter. I'm afraid an axe like yours is a little too large."

As he spoke, two small space transports came in for a landing in the scrapyard. The first came in fast and low, and hit the ground hard, skidded on some loose debris, and spun towards where Murg and the official stood, flattening an ork lean-to as it came. Before the vessel came to a halt, the rear cargo door opened, spilling half a dozen overloaded dumpsters onto the ground. A bag of overripe produce bounced from one of the dumpsters and burst wetly against the back of the customs official's head. He could rapidly feel the remnants of his composure draining away.

A few seconds later, the other transport made a gentle landing a short distance off.

"Ha! We win!" shouted Duur, as Rick stepped from the Goose.

"Yes! Congratulations!" Rick called back. He looked around, surveying the cascade of rubbish trailing from Hank and Duur's ship. "You do know that Public Works wanted the all the garbage dumped over here, right?"

Hank smacked the rhuur on the back of the head.

"You MORON!"

[Uncle Pervy]

Murg's eyebrow ridges slowly do their redition of the Titanic meeting the iceburg, as he examines the distance between the the Customs Agent's fingers. "Moight weedy, ain't dat?" he says at last. "Y'd hafta whack a sod a 'ole bunch wot t' drop 'em. Betcha can't even droive a bolt propa'!"

At this point, the two security ships make their landing. The entire mob stops fighting, and watches the crash with wide eyes. A few of the smaller orkoids, who seem to be a bit more attentive than their larger brethern, scatter away before the ship reduces them to so much paste. There is a moment of silence, as Rick, Hank, and Dhuur exchange pleasantries. Then, from the voice of every ork and human pretending to be an ork comes a great, rattling cry:

"WOOOOOOO!"

Many raise both fists into the air as they celebrate, including Murg and the human in ork's garb. After a few moments, the brawl resumes. The drop in noise reveals that the smaller orkoids who had to move are now make a lot of angry squawking and chittering noises toward the new arrivals, shaking fists and a few brandishing crude melee weapons. Then a whip cracks out over their heads, handled by a bulky and particularly-cross looking ork. "Git back t' woirk, ya lazy grots, or'll make y' int' poie!"

The orkoids, grots, squeal and scatter into the junk, as the ork returns his attention to the brawl.

Oblivious to all this, the human returns his attention to the tourist agent, smiling as before. "Whot?"

Then he looks up, and points. Following his finger would quickly lead one's line of sight to the Dr Bepper ad, supported by the oversized undergarment. "Dat fing b'long t' yah?"

[Raye Kinezono]

"Yes," Akari nodded as she looked at Bunny. "We've been here for quite some time, working on the terraforming of this planet. We were sent from Earth on a working contract. It's been about twenty years now that we've been here."

Raye looked up from the menu at Bunny. "At first, I hated it, but now it's actually kinda like home to me. It's peaceful here, which is a far cry from the never-ending rat-race that Earth has become. Despite it being my home, I'm almost not sure that I want to return there."

As she sat down next to Raye, Akari turned to Kid. "That's correct, the meaning of the name Akari is most commonly 'light,' but illumination and brightness are also accepted meanings."

After the waitress had taken their orders and walked off, Raye looked up at Kid. "We'll let you two guys on the ship as well, but you'd have to stay in the designated areas. Most likely, you'd be separated so that you and Wolf would be in one room while Kitty and Bunny would be in another. Also, you would most likely be on the completely opposite side of the ship from where the girls are staying, to keep the privacy. Besides that, I don't think that Miko would allow any 'intimate fraternizing,' if you get my drift."

"I think that's more than enough, Raye," Akari cut in. "I think that these boys get the hint. You don't have to beat them over the head with it." She then looked at Kitty. "I guess we're all settled then. After we eat, we'll take you to the spaceport to get settled in. Don't you worry about paying us back for now. We'll discuss that later, if it ever comes back up. For now, just relax and try to enjoy yourself."

Excuse me, Raye, Miko's voice came once again over Raye's internal communications. I'm sorry to bother you again, but I'm tracking a ship that has just entered the atmosphere.

Raye rolled her eyes, despite the silent conversation, which may have made her look like she was rolling her eyes at the current conversation between Akari and the others. So? Leave it to spaceport control. It's their job after all. You know that. Do I still have to tell you this after all the time we've been here?

I know that, Raye, Miko's reply came back. But I thought you might be interested in this particular ship, especially since you told me to keep a watch for it ever since we left Earth.

Eh? Raye's brow arched in curiousity. All right, I'll bite, what ship is it? Got any images?

Of course, Miko responded. You know I always do. I'm sending the data over to you now.

The image of a ship, with a huge bra slowing its descent appeared on Raye's internal display. She was so surprised by it, that she just blurted out aloud. "WHAT THE?!"

Interrupted by Raye's sudden outburst, Akari turned to the redhead. "I'm sorry? Is something wrong, Raye?"

"Uh, yeah... you could say that," Raye answered. "Do you remember what Kozue said, some time back when she got back from a space mission? About what and who to avoid?"

"Vaguely," Akari shrugged. "Why?"

Raye then placed her hand on Akari's personal access display device and then removed it. When she did, the image of the ship was in the screen, along with several other angles provided by the Second-types spread out across the city. She then pointed outside to the people who were looking up. "Guess who just landed here?"

Akari looked at the image and grimaced. "You're kidding, right?"

Raye shook her head. "Wish I was, but no. Miko first spotted it, and now the Seconds are confirming it. And I'd assume that the flurry of communications going in and out of the central hall have something to do with it too."

"Great," Akari sighed. "Just what we need. Kozue barely got out of the last entanglement with him, so I suggest that we minimize all contact with him."

"And if he happens to recognize one of the Second-types and mistakes it for Kozue?" Raye queried.

"I doubt there will be all that much to worry about," Akari answered. "The Seconds won't respond as hotly as Kozue did, so that should help a little. However, if it becomes necessary, we'll have Miko recall the Seconds to the ship. We shouldn't interfere with their chance to gather more experience data. That was one of your mother's side requests, so I'll do my best to honor it."

"Still," Raye groaned. "I don't like having him so close."

"Deal with it for now," Akari said. "If we minimize the contact and don't actually seek him out, there's a good chance that we can manage to avoid him."

Raye sighed resignedly. "All right. I hope you're right about this."

Oh! One more thing Raye! Miko's voice cut in on the comm. I've just received approval from the city for your application to participate in the airbike races. You're in!

Raye just sat back with a smug grin.

[Theatre Cat]

Duur Klab scowled over at the crowd of little orkoids as they squawked and gesticulated at him. His brows furrowed, his fan-like ears spread, and his mane bristled as he took a deep breath.

"HNYAAAARRRGHHH!!!"

The rhuur's bellowing roar temporarily drowned out even the orks' sound system, and sent the little grots scattering like sheep.

"Ow!" Lucy-M rubbed her ears. "Jerk! Next time, warn me before you do that!"

"Shouldn't your sonar filters block something like that out?" asked Rick, as he pushed a dumpster down his ship's cargo ramp on a repulsor pallet.

"I turned them off," replied Lucy-M. She gestured with a thumb in the direction of the orc ships. "I was enjoying the music."

---

The Tourism official blushed, and a large drop of sweat appeared at the corner of her brow.

"Uh, no. No, it definitely isn't mine."

Her fixed smile made a faint creaking sound, as her teeth ground together.

---

The Port Authority official listened to Murg's words with incredulity. As he felt a warm trickle of fermenting cucumber juice run down the back of his collar, he decided that he was through with being businesslike.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" he exploded. "You're not supposed to 'whack' or 'drop' anybody while you're here! And what kind of idiot would try to drive a bolt with a knife? If you want to hit things so terribly badly, then why don't you just use a CLUB or a HAMMER or something like that?"

[Uncle Pervy]

Duur Klab, for all his impressive roaring, may be a tad disappointed to notice it has gone mostly unappreciated by the brawling orcs. However, he does get an approving nod from Murg, and the sound knowledge he just sent quite a few grots scrambling for cover in the muck.

Murg then returns his attention to the custom's agent. "Wot if dey iz tryin' t' 'ave a go at ya? Gotta drop 'em den. An' wot's wrong wit' usin' a choppa t' bang bolts? I already gots wun roit 'ere, y'see."

The human in orc's clothing nods sagely. "That's good. It'll get all dirt-I mean! Roit den. S'gonna get moight mucky, eh?"

[Theatre Cat]

A loud, wretched sob escaped the Port Authority official as he collapsed to his knees, letting his datapad drop from limp hands into the rubbish. This afternoon was not going well for him. He had been expecting a busy but otherwise routine day spent dealing with tourists visiting for the Opening Day festival; instead, he was covered in garbage, deafened by cacophonous music and shouting aliens, surrounded by brawling orks (and a rhuur and an armoured human whose argument was rapidly coming to blows), and trying to explain Kinseiyon's arms control laws to someone whose skull seemed so thick, it must extend all the way through his head in about eight spatial dimensions. He buried his head in his hands and cried.

At that moment, another government shuttle arrived at the scrapyard, and set down about fifty meters from where the conversation was taking place. The doors opened, and the shuttle disgorged a platoon of Security troops, masked helmets on their heads, light armour strapped over their grey uniforms, and blaster carbines and grenade launchers clutched in their hands. As they took up positions around the perimeter of the brawl, the officer in charge, Lieutenant Otaki, stepped forward smartly.

"Right then," he asked firmly, "What's going on here?"

[Uncle Pervy]

Murg meets the oncomers with a tusky smile. "Jus' talkin' wit' dis guy." He looks down at the poor beleaguered civil servant. "Finkin' 'e's got a trick leg 'r somefin'. Mebbe 'e oughta go 'ome fer th' day?"

The human in orc's clothing simply gives the marines a friendly wave.

As for the brawlers and their observers, some of them notice the new arrivals. A few shrug and get back to beating heads. Others take the time to extract themselves and look at the marines with confusion mingled with curiosity. Some even make a comment here and again.

"Not too dinky a shoota' ya got, 'umie," says one approving voice.

"Oy, yer a bit oirly fer da viktree bash, ain't wun it yet."

"Yahell goht shomefinth ate?"

"'Ey, we havin' a go?"

All in all, it doesn't seem like the brawl is stopping just yet, though the armed presence seems to be drawing out some of the more bored ones.

[Kid-Wolf]

Kid: Well then may I ask who this person you're trying to avoid now?

Wolf: I don't think it's a good idea to get us involved you know.

Kitty: Well since they are boarding us up for the time being I think we should see if we can help out if at all possible.

Bunny: Well I guess it wouldn't hurt to see if we can help out in anyway, but as for the accomidations I don't think you need to worry about the boys going after us, but more like Kitty going after Wolfy.

*with that comment Kitty blushed*

Kitty: H-hey don't say things like that. You make me sound like II'm the pervert in the group.

Kid: Well... anyways is this person a freind of yours or something?

[Raye Kinezono]

Akari looked up at Kid. "His name is Spacecadet. But I wouldn't worry about him too much, as you've probably not had any dealings with him before, so you wouldn't need to avoid him."

"But you see," Raye continued for Akari. "My sister, Kozue, kind of got into a, hmm... situation with him. It wasn't pleasant, to say the least. I don't know all the details, but I heard that he felt that he was tricked by her, and was none too happy. Which, when you consider my sister's constantly scheming mind, is entirely possible. For all I know, she may have tricked him, but she's not one to tell us, so we don't really know. The problem we have is since she's my twin sister, we have the trouble that he might mistake me or one of the Seconds for her, assuming he even still remembers, it has been quite some time since she tangled with him."

Akari then chuckled as Kitty blushed. "Ah, I see how it is then. Don't worry, Kitty. If you wish to go over to the males' side, that's perfectly acceptable if it's alright with the guys. Guys coming over to the females' side is strictly forbidden, however."

******

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, two Second-types made their way into the junkyard area to investigate the music that was coming from it. They walked right up to where the Lieutenant's shuttle landed and looked around.

The first one, Kiko, glanced at the second one, Atsuko. "It appears that a large altercation is taking place here."

"It appears that the security forces are here to handle it, however," Astuko replied. "We do not need to intervene."

For a moment, they both watched the orks in curiousity until finally Kiko walked over to the nearest security officer and tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the orks. "Excuse me sir, but are those lifeforms having trouble with their speech software? I cannot decipher it."

[Theatre Cat]

Although quite well trained, the bulk of Shin Graviton's security forces were hardly what one could call battle-hardened veterans. As a result, some of the troopers felt decidedly edgy as large, armed, and evidently violent orks wandered over and began making conversation.

"Please stand back, and put down your weapons, sir," advised a sargeant.

Lt. Otaki looked down at the customs officer sobbing in the dirt, then surveyed the brawling orcs, before turning back to Murg.

"So, care to tell me what this fighting's all about?" he asked, in a firm but conversational tone.

---

Meanwhile, the security officer who had been accosted by the two Second-types looked momentarily startled by the question. Then he recognised their uniforms and their blank, red-eyed stares; these were evidently some of those advanced robots that had been brought in to work on the terraforming project. He'd seen them around the city every now and then over the past twenty years. This was the first time he'd ever spoken to one, though.

In answer to their question, he replied, "I guess they speak a different dialect than we do here on Kinseiyon. Kind of hard to understand, isn't it? I hope the Lieutenant can figure it out."

---

On the other side of the scrapyard, Rick and Lucy-M finished discharging their cargo. Rick wiped the sweat from his brow, and looked over at the brawl.

"So, we've got a few minutes. Want to stick around for a while and watch the fun?"

"No," Lucy-M replied. "You can stay and get arrested if you like, but I'm out of here."

[Uncle Pervy]

Upon being given the orders, the orks paying attention to their being surrounded look at each other in askance. One in particular gives a shrug. "Al'roit," he says. With that, the conversational orks seem content not to get into easy conversing range. They don't drop their weapons, but none of them seem to have been drawn in the first place, but some's better than none, as they say.

"Oh, y'know," says Murg to Otaki. "Dysentry dere," he waves toward one of the unconscious orks, who is presently being stepped on by the less unconsciou brawlers, "our Dysentry was bein' a git, so Kris gave 'im one in th' gob, an' th' otha ladz were finkin' dey wanted in on da fun. Not been doin' too bad, looks loike."

On the other side of the scrapyard, Lucy-M and Rick may be a bit surprised to hear a nearby heap of old dry rags suddenly say, in a high-pitched voice, "Wot's all dis, den?!"

They will likely be a tad less surprised to hear the hill answer it's on question, in a slightly more gravelly and calm voice, "Looks loike dey is visitin', is wot."

"Could do," the pile says again to itself. "But why?!"

"Dat's th' fing, ain't it?" the pile's other voice concludes. The pair may or may not get the feeling they are being watched by the schitzophrenic pile of rags, awaiting an answer.

[Supase Kadetsu]

Spacecadet finished loading the antigravity skid and tied down the load with several lengths of thick rope. He stepped back to proudly survey his work. "There, that about does it."

"Great, of course now there is the small problem of moving the skid to the fairgrounds," Harrison commented. "That skid isn't going to get there on it's own."

Spacecadet shrugged his shoulders. "You're such a partypooper, Harrison. Fortunately, I have a solution."

"This should be rich."

Spacecadet ignored Harrison. "As you know I have the galaxy's finest two wheeled vehicle, the superlative Rocket Vee. I'll just tie the skid to the Rocket Vee and tow it to the fairgrounds."

"You're going to tow an antigravity skid with a motorcycle?" Harrison yelled. "That's the most retarded thing I've heard from you in a very long time and you have a solid history of making extremely retarded statements!"

"You're just jealous of my genius," Spacecadet replied mildly.

"You are completely delusional," Harrison said.

"Oh yeah, well just who was it that got us such a good deal on this current business opportunity?" Spacecadet asked.

"Good deal?" Harrison repeated incredulously. "What is exactly so good about it?"

"Well the sponsorship...."

"Oh hooray, everyone look at our Dr Bepper bra," Harrison remarked acidly.

"Hey, it helped pay for the trip here!" Spacecadet snapped.

"And what a resounding success so far," Harrison quipped. "It's been such a great trip that we didn't even need to pull off a cheap-ass and humiliating stunt like float down through the atmosphere hanging from a Dr Bepper bra!"

"You know what, Harrison?" Spacecadet said. "You can sit right here in the ship and whine your little heart out. I'm going to go out and earn some money for a change."




Spacecadet wrapped the chain around Ilya's waist and then locked it. "Okay, now make sure you hold on tight when we take off. I'll go slow but you'll still take some damage if you fall off and I really don't have time to fix you right now.

"Don't worry, Mr Spacecadet, I'll be sure to hang on tightly," Ilya assured him. "I'll stick to you like glue."

Spacecadet climbed aboard his Rocket Vee and then helped Ilya up onto the seat behind him. "Glad to hear it," He fired up the bike and and eased it down the cargo ramp and onto the to soil of Kinseiyon. The anti-gravity skid followed them out of the ship. At that moment Ilya decided that it was a good time to follow his instructions and wrapped her arm around him tightly enough to make his ribs creak.

"Okay...not so...tightly...please," Spacecadet choked out.

[Theatre Cat]

Lieutenant Otaki entered Murg's "testimony" into his datapad, and nodded. He was a veteran of the force, and remembered the old days when Shin Graviton was still home to many rough frontiersmen. These types could be trouble, but mostly just wanted to be left to their own affairs.

"I see. Well, as long as you keep it among yourselves, I don't see the harm. I have to warn you, though: If I get any complaints, I'll have to bring you in to the station."

He fished the custom's officer's datapad out of the junk pile, and checked it. It looked as though the man had not finished his inspection.

"Now, what's the purpose of your visit to Kinseiyon?" he asked.

"Oh, they're here for the race!" interjected the Tourism official, who hurried over, happy to finally have someone coherent to talk to. "I've been trying to tell them about the Festival events, but I'm not sure they understand." She pouted prettily for a moment, then, remembering her duties, resumed her smile and beamed it around the scrapyard.

---

Lucy-M jumped, startled by the unexpected voice.

"Rick," she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, "Did you just hear that pile of rags talking to itself?"

Rick considered this for a moment. After weighing the evidence, he reached a conclusion.

"Yes, I'd have to say that, barring a better explanation, that's what I heard."

"Ah. For a moment there, I was afraid that Duur had gone and broken my sonar." She paused for a moment, before adding: "Though I think I might have preferred that explanation."

The pair stood in silence for a moment.

"The question," Rick asked, "is this: Why would a pile of rags be talking to itself?"

"Personally, I think the question is: How could a pile of rags be talking to itself?" declared Lucy-M.

"Oh, come on now! Obviously, it is talking, so that question is purely academic! I thought you were more practical than that!"

Lucy-M rolled her eyes. "All right. So how do you suppose we answer this question of yours?"

Rick shrugged. "By asking it, I suppose."

"You want to ask a pile of rags why it's talking to itself?"

"Not really," Rick admitted. "I'd feel very silly interrogating a pile of rags. But do you have a better suggestion?"

"I suppose not."

"Well, then. It's decided." Rick cleared his throat, turned to face the heap, and addressed it:

"Hello! Lovely day, isn't it?"

[Uncle Pervy]

Murg nods to the Tourism Representative. "Aye, we'z come t' win it. Oughta do, wot wit' dese." He jerks a thumb toward the gathered piecemail shuttles, whose relation to airbikes is directly proportionate to the amount of airbike parts that were used in their construction. That is to say, not that much at all.

On the other side of the dump, the pile twitches a bit. "S'not too bad," says the pile in the hgher voice. "Makes dat 'ole dome bit look a tad extra, don't it?"

"S'truth," it agrees in the lower voice. There is a pause, and it says, "Oy, Stall. Dat 'umie dere, wot wit' th' pink on its noggin."

"Blimey!" answers the higher voice. "That one didn't half go an' do it!" Some of the rags move, and a narrow orkoid face pops out, dominated by its long nose and flappy ears. The grot squints at Lucy-M and purses its thin lips. "Not half done at all, Brake!"

Another grot shyly peeks out as well, a bundle of cloth resting upon his thin head like some slipshod turban, and scruntizes her as well. it's voice is the lower one, though not as much without the rags to muffle it. "Wonda wot da ladz'll say, eh?"

[Theatre Cat]

Rick smiled as the grots' heads emerged from the rag pile. "Ah! There you are!"

Lucy-M frowned at Brake and Stall.

"What didn't I 'half go and do'?" she asked, suspiciously.

---

Lieutenant Otaki looked at the ork shuttles in surprise. He didn't follow airbike racing very closely, but he was quite sure there were no machines like those in any of the races he'd watched.

He turned to the Tourism official. "Miss, do you happen to have any information on the kinds of vehicles that are allowed to compete in the airbike race?"

"Of course! It's all on page 4 of the Opening Day Airbike Race Guide!" She called the page up on her datapad. "It says here," she read, "that the race is open to single-operator, open-cockpit, repulsor-lift vehicles of up to 1000 kilograms shutdown mass. Supplementary propulsion systems are permitted if they do not pose a danger to the spectators, the environment, or the other contestants. Thrown, dropped, or fired weapons, either vehicle-mounted or hand-carried, are not permitted. All participating vehicles must be examined and certified by the festival officials prior to the race." She turned back to Otaki and Murg and beamed at them.

"Hm." Otaki looked back at the orks' shuttles, then turned to Murg. "Well, if you boys want to enter the race with those machines, I'd recommend you start modifying them right away, because you've got about twenty hours before the race begins, and you certainly won't be allowed to enter them the way they are." He shook his head sadly; he didn't realistically believe that the orks' shuttles could be turned into racing airbikes in any amount of time, let alone in under a day. "Personally, I think you might do better to see if you can buy some bikes in the city. There's a dealership now, since a lot of people are going to want them after the dome comes down."

[Uncle Pervy]

The higher-voiced grot, called Stall if the two caught their names right, grins. "Plain as day, wot it is. Must've gotten y'self blowed up real noice t' get a dok t' give y' dat much steel!"

Nodding in agreement, the other grot, Brake, adds, "Y give it to 'em wot as good as y' got it? Must've been sum row."


---

Murg has a look at the datapad, peering over the tourist official's shoulder. His eyebrow ridges raise, as though an avalanche in reverse. One gets the feeling he's really looking at the pictures. "Moight weedy, ain't it? I mean, y' can't even put a propa' big shoota' on it. Could do, though. Yeah. We can do dis."

He turns toward the brawlers. "ROIT LADZ! GIT OVA 'ERE! WE GOT WORK T' DO IF WE'RE GONNA GET DIS DUN!"

The brawl dissolves very quickly. With surprising gentleness, Murg takes the pad from the woman's hand and approaches the mob, holding it up. "SEE DIS? WE'RE MAKIN' A BETTA WUN! OY! KICK DYSENTRY UP!" Murg draws out his axe, and begins make broad gestures with it, as he starts to shout things that make less and less sense to the onlookers. Things like "Floatas" and "Zoggin' 'uge subbers." A couple orks, indicated at with the axe, break off to start digging through the junk piles. It doesn't seem their paying too much mind to the armed forces at all now, as they talk excitedly amongst themselves.

[Raye Kinezono]

"Ah," Kiko nodded in what appeared to be understanding. "I see. But it puzzles me, why would a sentient being purposely communicate in a manner that is anything less than the most efficient means? It would appear to be counter-productive to not be able to communicate clearly, as demonstrated in this case. The customs officer appears to be having an emotional fit as a result. This behavior style needs to be researched."

While Kiko talked with the security officer, she held her arm out toward Atsuko, with her hand held up in a "stop" gesture. However, Atsuko had her hand in the same position, and had placed her palm up against Kiko's. In between their palms, there was a small glow as a direct touch data synchronization took place.

Kiko: Do you see the female in the ship with the pink hair?

Atsuko: Yes. She appears to be a cyborg.

Kiko: Be sure to scan her structure and obtain her design. Keep her schematic on file. It might be of use to Miss Akari and Miss Raye.

Atsuko: Understood. Scanning now. Design obtained and stored for future transmission to Miss Raye.

In the Restaurant:

"Well then," Raye said as she sat back in her chair after finishing her meal. "That was good as always. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few matters to deal with. Akari, I trust you'll help our guests to settle in?"

"What?" Akari looked surprised. "Where are you going, Raye?"

"Just out to check on a few things," Raye nodded. "I've been in constant communication with the Second-types across the city. I want to go check out a few of the things they've stopped to 'investigate.' They look like they might be kinda interesting."

"All right," Akari replied. "But don't take all night. I've been informed that we might possibly be asked to assist with Security during the Festival."

"Us?" Raye queried. "Why?"

Akari stood up and knocked on Raye's head. "Is there something wrong with your memory, or did you forget who you were? The people who hired us know that you used to be the security chief back home, and they wouldn't mind having us and the Second-types around to help maintain the peace. People would think twice about doing anything. There's also the bonus that some people wouldn't expect us to be security, so we could catch a few people off guard if they try to do something."

Raye chuckled. "Oh, yeah. We've been working on the terraforming project so long that I almost forgot. Well I'll be quick about it then. I'll be back in an hour."

"See that you do," Akari nodded. "I'll most likely be back at the ship by the time you come back."

Raye then bowed to Kid and his group. "Again, if you'll excuse me, I will take my leave."

She then walked out the door and contacted Miko. Hey, Miko! I thought you said that I was cleared to run in the airbike races?

You are, Miko replied. What's the matter?

Akari just told me that we might have to be assisting security for the festival, Raye explained. If I'm busy with that, how can I participate?

Oh, that, Miko responded. They said that they would like it if someone from security would be in the races, so they could make sure that the race stays clean. But any one of their people would either be recognized, or not know how to race. So, since you applied, they figured that it would be perfect. You're not recognized as security, and you know how to race. So it's a win-win situatiuon.

I see, Raye smirked. Two birds with one stone, huh? Okay, that works for me, then.

Near the fairgrounds:

Two Second-types stood at the gates to the fairgrounds, as they stared in, trying to observe the people working inside.

"It appears to be closed off to the public at the moment," the left Second-type, Eriko, noted. "We will not be able to enter and gather data until later."

"That is unfortunate," the right Second-type, Kimiko, stated. "We should go elsewhere and gather data until it is open."

"Agreed," Eriko nodded.

They both turned around and began walking away. After a short while, they noticed a motorcycle headed their direction.

"There appears to be an unsafe method of transport approaching," Eriko commented. "According to city safety ordinances, that vehicle must be stopped and informed of proper safety ordinances."

"Identity of rider unknown," Kimiko added. "The person is not a registered resident. Knowledge of safety ordinances is unlikely. However, the rider must still be informed."

"There is a second occupant on the vehicle," Eriko then pointed out. "That is a direct violation of safety ordinance twenty-three."

"The second occupant is an artificial life form," Kimiko explained. "Android class. Designs and schematics saved for future transmissions."

They both then stood in the middle of the street and waited for Spacecadet to approach. "Prepare to stop the unknown rider," Eriko said. "And inform him of his violations of the safety ordinance."

"Understood," Kimiko nodded. "Engine inhibition net deployed."

[Kid-Wolf]

Kid: Well say if you need help with the security around here tommorw I'm sure Kitty and Bunny will be glad to help out.

Wolf: Hey what about me?

Kid: Wolf you're sticking with me at the both we've applied for. Besides you need more trainning in the art of smithing you know.

Kitty: Hey why are you dumping me onto the security forces?

Bunny: Well we were known as a well knowing force back home in Hybrid Village you know.

Wolf: Oh yeah those were the days, and life seemed very simple until Kid here dug up the three Fox-Wing ships near my house.

Kid: Is it my fault that one of my ancestors who built it buried it there?

Wolf: No, but it's your fault because those ships normally cause us nothing but trouble.

Kid: Well that's what happens when a space ship was buried under the earth for a few hundred years. Although I know this I would change out the engines, but it has the only system that used a trans-dimentional system. Without that I don't think we could of came here.

[Supase Kadetsu]

Spacecadet saw the two redheads in his path. "Uh oh, trouble ahead." If not for the antigravity skid he would have had made a quick wide loop around them. When it came to redheads a vast storehouse of experience had taught him that avoidance was the best policy. However, the act of towing the skid made any sudden maneuvers a very bad idea. With any luck he could just pass them by without incident. He was fully aware that this would be the first time in the history that being in close proximity of a redhead didn't result some sort of ugly and potentially dangerous incident. "If I go by them fast enough the three second rule will apply. Hopefully." So instead of slowing down as he approached the pair of redheads he instead accelerated. Of course he knew that it would be all that much harder to decelerate later but he reasoned that it would be something to worry about after he got past the redheads.

As he neared the two he flipped them a little wave of his hand. They both had stopped and looked as if they were wanting to start a conversation.

"Nothing doing, sisters. It will be my great pleasure to blow right by you. Have a little dust courtesy of yours truly."

That was the plan at least. However, reality has a cruel tendency to assert itself at the most inconvenient of times. As Spacecadet and Ilya reached the redheads the Rocket Vee chose that very moment to sputter and die. Spacecadet's self satisfied smile turned into a rictus of horror as the bike slowed down. Looking behind him confirmed what he already knew; that the antigravity skid was rapidly catching up with the bike.

"Oh crap," he groaned as the skid sailed overhead past the bike.

Acting decisively, Ilya snapped the chain from the Rocket Vee and leapt clear of the bike, saving Spacecadet from facing the prospect of being dragged by the antigravity skid. The blonde android landed on her feet gripping the chain in her hands and planted her heels into the ground. She looked as if she were trying to water ski on dry land as she was dragged away from Spacecadet and the stalled bike.

"Ilya!" Spacecadet shouted. "Just let it go. We'll get it later. It's not worth getting damaged over."

"I'm fine!" Ilya called back as she continued to plow furrows through the earth with her heels. "I'll have this thing stopped in no time."

"Sir, if we might talk to you," one of the redheads spoke up as she approached.

A worried Spacecadet kept watching the blonde android as she was dragged further and further away. "Hmmmm, what is it?"

"Perhaps you are unaware of the safety regulations for transporting people and goods but we have to inform you that you are in violation of several," the redhead said.

"You wanted to talk about safety violations?" Spacecadet asked as he watched Ilya and the skid recede in the distance. He wondered if they would reach the fairgrounds before Ilya manage to come to a stop.

"Yes sir. It's the reason why we stopped your bike," the redhead confirmed.

That got Spacecadet's instant attention. "Wait, you stopped my bike?"

"We used an inhibitor field," the redhead answered. "Now as I was saying both having a passenger and towing anything with your motorbike is a violation of the local safety ordinances."

"YOU USED AN INHIBITOR FIELD SO YOU COULD LECTURE ME ABOUT SAFETY?" Spacecadet shouted, his fists clenched in rage. "I really hope you have excellent medical insurance because I'm about to put the both of you into the hospital for an extended visit!"

"That is not logical," the redhead replied. "Neither of us are biological organisms so it would not make sense for us to visit the hospital."

Spacecadet cracked his knuckles. "In that case I'll just put you in for repairs."




As Spacecadet had surmised, the skid and Ilya had indeed reached the fairgrounds. The flimsy gate had been designed more to keep the curious from getting underfoot than to withstand a serious assault. The sturdy antigravity skid tore the gate completely off its hinges and dragged the wreckage along with Ilya into the fairgrounds. Still doing a fine impression of a water skier Ilya slammed into and obliterated the newly constructed Peppy Cola booth before wiping out a nearby sunglasses kiosk. The next victim was the WacDonald's hut. Ilya now was in the center of a small mountain of rolling debris. Fortunately, the mass of the debris was acting an effective brake . After tearing a swath of destruction through the fairgrounds the skid, Ilya and the remains of a half dozen vendor's booths came to a rest.