The AstroVilla Heist

     Sylon stared, quite literally, into space as the luxurious ship floated them into the stars. Absentmindedly, he adjusted his sash and crown, smoothing his clothes and grooming his appearance. After all, it was unfitting for a Royal of his caliber to be caught living in wrinkles. His mind dwelled on a book he’d seen in a bookshop once. It was built around a simple concept: Neopia on 500 neopoints a day. In fact, that was the title.

     Five hundred neopoints a day.

     AstroVilla, the deluxe hotel of the stars. Built to cater to the richest of the rich as they relax. At base price, it was five hundred neopoints a day. That was the reason he’d selected AstroVilla. It had the prestige and price to attract the wealthy and frivolous. It was the largest gathering of targets in the entirety of Neopia. Their jewels and petty cash, however, weren’t his main priority.

     Five hundred neopoints a day, paid by every single customer.

     Sylon held his head proudly as the ship docked, rising to his feet. The Eyrie flexed his talons, nimble and precise. After all, he was the self-appointed Duke of Thieves. Tonight, he would demonstrate exactly why he deserved the title. Those who would stand in his way would perish.

     Five hundred neopoints a day, paid by every single customer, stored in a high-security vault within the depths of AstroVilla.

     Through espionage, Sylon had learned the management of AstroVilla deposited their earnings the last day of each month. Today was the second to last day of the month. After this heist, Sylon would be the richest thief in Neopia.

     The Eyrie stepped off the transport and was immediately greeted by a green Gelert wearing a fitted tuxedo and decorated with an emerald handkerchief to match. Sylon did not pay any attention to the rest of his surroundings, though they were incredibly economic for the price. He was far too preoccupied.

     “Baggage, sir?” the Gelert prompted politely, appearing puzzled that a wealthy visitor had no luggage. Sylon smiled.

     “No, I’m only here for a short while. However, a nice cup of your finest Black Hole Coffee would be greatly appreciated. Room 500.”

     The Gelert bowed away. “Directly, sir.”

     An observer of Sylon’s day might have thought he had developed an unhealthy obsession with the number five hundred, basing their assumption on his room number, late reading, and well-priced choice of hotel. However, he had a thoroughly-considered reason for his choice of room number, and without that piece of logic the observer would have no reason to assume what he or she had.

     Sylon strolled to his room, which was near the center of the vast complex. Speaking his name and a previously agreed upon password (a password which would lend the observer more evidence to support their case) to the door, he stepped inside.

     Red-velvet furniture and scarlet-sheeted beds were strategically set throughout the room. The bedroom, privately placed behind a wall, looked inviting to an exhausted Eyrie. Sylon, however, turned his attention to a counter, built from an exquisite marble that went with the black color theme of the kitchen. He made his way around it and knelt to the floor.

     The Duke of Thieves traced the tiles with his claw. Underneath his room was the vault, which contained the entire month’s earnings of AstroVilla, soon to be his.

     “May I ask what you are doing, sir?” The Gelert butler had silently entered the room and was staring at his guest.

     Sylon jumped three feet in the air at the Gelert’s voice. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, Cyprus. You know it startles me.”

     The butler broke into a grin. “And what are you going to do about it, big brother, tie me up and lock me in a cupboard? You may fancy yourself the Duke of Thieves, but that would just be heartless.”

     Both brothers were grinning now, and embraced each other in greeting.

     “Are you ready to do this?” Sylon asked. Cyprus shrugged. “Can a Koi swim?”

     The Gelert gestured to the door, and Sylon saw his brother truly was prepared. A stack of equipment, from rope to a stethoscope, lay next to a potted plant intended to lighten to atmosphere. It certainly cheered Sylon up.

     “Now, the floor is only a foot thick, but the steel vault is an entire foot deep on all sides,” he explained as they carried the equipment to the kitchen. “That’s why we’re approaching from the side. Beneath the kitchen is the entrance, which is a secret room at the end of a hallway beneath a locked closet hidden behind a cabinet in the front office. It is only accessed once a month to empty its contents, and only when the library is closed and guests are asleep.”

     “Is there a guard?”

     Cyprus smirked. “They believe that the vault is too secure to need a guard. You’ll have all the time you need.”

     ***

     Sylon slid down the rope into the room beneath. Shaping the hole had been simple, and now all he had to do was open the vault. The stethoscope hung around his neck. It was all he would need.

     The vault door was set into a wall just a few meters in front of him. A large dial was built into the front, almost giving the appearance of a ship’s wheel set in steel. He laughed. This would be too easy.

     He set the stethoscope into his ear, and with a practiced claw set it to the metal, feeling where the tumblers would be. He spun the wheel, hearing the clicks and clacks underneath the surface, feeling the final clank into place with his talon. A grin flitted across his expression. He spun the wheel the other way, hearing an even more satisfying clank. Repeating the process one last time, he pulled the door open and gasped.

     Inside were mounds upon mounds of neopoints, glittering gold from thousands of guests. The accumulation of five hundred neopoints per day per Neopet. Shaking off his stunned feeling, Sylon called quietly up to his brother, who dropped down ten bags to be filled. After those had been filled, Sylon had to call up for more.

     ***

     Sylon walked towards the shuttle that night, after he and his brother had celebrated their achievement. They now had twenty-four hours to leave before their theft was discovered. A green Gelert he appeared not to know was beside him, pushing a cartful of bulky bags. His clothes were smoothed, he appeared well-groomed, and no one would suspect this particular Eyrie of being the Duke of Thieves: he was far too conspicuous.

     The butler stayed behind, returning to his duties as an employee of the luxurious AstroVilla. It was not until a few days later he realized there had never been an uproar among management about stolen neopoints. By then, it was far too late.

     ***

     Sylon stepped off the transport, pushing the cart on his own now. He glanced around, and stopped. He wasn’t at the spaceport.

     “Welcome to Defenders of Neopia headquarters,” a large, muscular Moehog announced. Beside him stood a satisfied-looking Chia, who Sylon assumed to be the manager of AstroVilla. He sighed. Some part of him knew it had been too good to be true.

     “How did you know?” he asked simply.

     The Chia, whose name was simply Marie, answered him in a feminine voice that suited her pale blue color. “Our guests do not pay five hundred neopoints a day for nothing. We have an invisible guard stationed in the room at all times.” She winked. “Plus, a royally-dressed spy does not make for an inconspicuous observer.” She walked off, leaving Judge Hog alone with Sylon.

     “How many days is my sentence?” The Eyrie knew most petty thieves were let off with little time served, so he remained relaxed. Unfortunately, Judge Hog didn’t view this theft as petty.

     “Days?” the Defender laughed. “Oh, I’m not sure. A year and four or five months in days?”

     Sylon let out a gasp. His sentence wasn’t so little. And neither was Judge Hog’s final response.

     “Five hundred.”

The End