Of Menaces, Hopes and Icky Space Food: Part Six

"Alright, paws in the air and spare me the screaming, it'll just make you look stupid," a familiar steely voice ordered. "We are taking this station over in the name of Dr Frank Sloth."

     A few screams did in fact crop up, but then someone whispered, "Skyfire!" and the name spread in whispers like ink on water, blotting out all other sounds. Ylana Skyfire came into view, painted blue again and holding a nasty-looking blaster, backed up by the three Blumaroos who seemed to have gotten a confidence shot in the meantime and were posturing worse than ever.

     "Well, at least they don't seem to have more backup," Bloody Mary said appreciatively. "Kept this one close to the chest, she did. Feel free to make use of that forcefield trick now, even when the station guards get here, they won't be able to do much, she's got a shield of tourists all around her."

     Tim squatted down next to them and thumped his fists softly against the floor. His hands were quivering.

     "I don't know how," he whispered. "I can't do this. There's nothing I can do."

     "Hey now," Bloody Mary said sternly, "I'll grant that all aspiring heroes do a little melodrama now and again but your timing could be better. Focus on the present. Find the, uh, worth in you and... Santa?"

     "Use what you have," said the little female.

     "That too," said Bloody Mary.

     "Sst," Justice hissed sharply. Under them in the vast recreation deck, the crowd was dead quiet and Ylana with her troupe had moved almost to the center of the room, shielded by tourists at all sides. No guards were yet in sight, it looked like nobody had had the chance to sound an alarm. The Acara mercenary was turning her head sharply to and fro, trying to place a sound she'd thought she'd heard.

     Tim leaned forward, perking his large floppy ears and then angling them directly to either side. His breathing speeded up, his face was as pale as the average furry Neopet face gets, and the Meepits could hear the thumping of his heart all too clearly.

     Ylana relaxed just a little, turned her head with a scowl and took two more steps, blaster at the ready, Blumaroos tagging behind, now standing under the grate.

     For a moment, the world stood still.

     Then Tim yanked the grate off, grabbed the filing box and dropped it straight down the hole.

     It was a small, flimsy plastic box, but it was full of candy and the Astrovilla common room was very tall. The box picked up speed as it went down and hit Ylana right between the ears.

     She reeled in shock, but her reflexes were trained in battle and she would've shook this off fast, had Tim not jumped right after the box and landed on the Acara mercenary in turn. She hit the ground with a thump.

     Tim reached for the blaster-

     grabbed it, brandished it in one fluid motion over the mercenary's unconscious body and pointed it at the Blumaroos, coolly shouting "Drop your weapons, now!" and the Blumaroos did so immediately and threw their hands up, and the crowd began to cheer-

     and kicked it hard with a shaking leg, sending it spinning across the floor.

     The Blumaroos, shaken by the evening's events to begin with and jittery with the fear of the sudden need to finally make good of their constant posturing, may have done something regrettable around this point, had someone not darted out of the crowd, grabbed the spinning blaster, picked it up and cried, "Drop those weapons right now, kids, and I'm warning you, I'm not used to using these things so Fyora only knows what I might hit."

     The Blumaroos stared at the newcomer. It was a stocky Kougra, painted orange with a lot of grey around the muzzle, a fair few deep scars running across his face and clothed in Shenkese royal armor. For once, they were fast to recognize someone with battle experience, and hurriedly dropped their blasters.

     Tim sat on the floor, his head swimming. Suddenly, the lack of sleep seemed to be hitting him. Some part of him, a part that he was observing from afar as if he wasn't properly in the room any more, watched as the Kougra general took charge, several other Neopets with various degrees of battle experience stepped up from the crowd, a length of rope was found, Ylana and the unresisting Blumaroos were expertly secured and he himself got surrounded by coddling fancy ladies wearing a lot of jewelry who kept saying things like "Oh, I do say, I've never seen anything like this, are you all right? This was the bravest thing I ever saw and no joke."

     "Hey now," said another voice, one Tim dizzily recognized as familiar, and currently far away for some weird reason. "That was our candy box. That was our candy box!"

     "Fair's fair, there was nothing else he could've used," said another vaguely familiar voice.

     "Could've taken the candy out. Look at that stuff all strewn about the floor- hey, hey, you see that? The fat lady with the powdered wig just stepped on one!"

     "Eh, we can wait here until they empty the room. Timmy-boy looks to be in good hands now, anyway."

     Timmy-boy fainted.

     ***

     "Look, I can't thank you enough."

     Round beady eyes stared blankly back at him.

     "Alright, well," said Tim, digging in his pockets, "here's as much candy as I could get away with. They confiscated everything they found in the Blumaroo squad's quarters, but here I have Dad's name to throw around..."

     "You make your old multi-mentor proud, kid," Bloody Mary said solemnly, taking the proffered bag. It was nearly the size of the Meepit group itself, but being used to this sort of cargo, they expertly distributed the candy between themselves to carry.

     They were behind a large crate in the cargo bay, since the Meepits had declared that in this ridiculously open metal venue, they're sticking to the crates or the vents and by now, they were all fairly sick of vents. Tim hadn't exactly become a hero during the takeover, but everyone was giving him credit for his contribution, which had undoubtedly been crucial, and the Blumaroo squad had been detained for their involvement, which the Usul considered the biggest victory of them all.

     "Here's what I'm wondering," Justice piped up. "How did you drop the box right on her head? It was a big room and she was a small target."

     Tim looked sheepish and proud at the same time. "I sounded her out. It was... easy, you know? I realized that if I had both of my ears as far away from one another as possible, I can get two entry points for the sound and that makes the source more accurate, and then I... just did what I could."

     "Sure looks like our work is done here," Bloody Mary said cheerfully.

     Tim brightened. "So I made you proud as a mentor and am now ready to achieve a new level of apprentice?"

     The Meepit eyed him. "Hah, no, what I meant was that we came here to find some food, found that the food was horrible but now have this nice stash of candy and this'll be the best we can hope for here so it's time for us to move on. But the thing is – kid, drop the apprentice thoughts. Stop looking for someone else to give you a path. Just find your own."

     "I'm still a janitor," Tim said sullenly. "Sort of a hero, kind of, I don't know, maybe a little, but in the end, they still want me to do my job like nothing ever happened."

     "You thought that once you pulled some heroics, the universe would adjust itself to give you a new place you thought you earned with those heroics?" Justice asked, amiably but with an edge to her voice. "What do you want to be doing right now?"

     Tim hesitated.

     "If you say 'lounge somewhere idly and be fed grapes', she may bite you," Joe the Chef said helpfully.

     The Usul looked taken aback. "I... well, when I first came here, I wanted to become a pilot. It looked like such a cool job, you know, travelling in the stars? But then the days kept going and this metal box always looks the same and I guess I mostly forgot about it, and after a while it just felt like a stupid kid's dream."

     "How do you become a pilot?" Justice asked. "Do they train them here?"

     "Yeah, there's a pilot course program on the staff deck, you need to study for an entrance exam and-" Tim faltered, as the collective stare of the Meepits turned up by several notches.

     "I should sign up for that, shouldn't I," he said lamely.

     "Only if you want to," Justice said sweetly, her stare amped up to an edge that could cut glass.

     "I think I do," Tim said, now with more firmness in his voice. "Yeah, I think I'll do that. For starters, anyway, see where that takes me."

     His face lit up as he realized that having a definite goal for a change actually felt surprisingly nice, then felt obligated to ask, "What about you? Where will you go? Do you, like, take on a new apprentice every now and again, or?"

     Bob Squeaky snorted. "We try to avoid that. But we just go wherever looks most reasonable at the time." He turned and pointed a paw. "Where does that shuttle go, for example?"

     The Usul craned his neck at the closest shuttle that was already done loading and was scheduled to leave in half an hour. The crew had gone off to get last-minute paperwork done. "Thaaat looks like a cargo shuttle to Darigan."

     The Meepits exchanged looks. "How are they with food?"

     "Um, lots of meat and cheese and bread, I think?"

     "Oh good, nice solid stuff," Bloody Mary said cheerfully. "Darigan it is. Take care, kid."

     "Will I meet you again?" Tim ventured, feeling that this was now properly goodbye.

     "Absolutely no telling," said the Meepit leader brightly and turned away. Tim watched as the small gang marched off to the edge of the crate and then darted expertly to the open shuttle door. Then he got up slowly and trudged over to the bay door, where he'd left his bucket and mop.

     Part of him still had trouble processing what had happened over the past few days, but he had the distinct impression that life didn't necessarily need to go back to being boring now, if he didn't want it to.

The End