THE FOLLOWING TEXT CONTAINS: SWEARING, CRIMES, VIOLENCE, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED (18+)
AT SQUARE ONE
66. INT. WCDEE’S — NIGHT
The scene opens up to a falling-apart fast food chain. The two big golden scoops can be seen KMs away down here in the SPARKS. A flickering sign of refuge for cheap food and easy kid-type distractions. One could call it nostalgic if they grew up on this sort of thing. Not that JD would know much about that, really. They didn’t have much of a normal childhood.
All the same, the scoops would create a perfect meeting spot description…If there wasn’t one on every corner.
There are no vehicles in the very small parking, it’s almost uncannily quiet. One might equate it to horror if it wasn’t just sad and a couple more of the lights on the building were flickering instead of just busted or straight-up out. There’s graffiti on the side of the building where the owner has hired someone to clean it up despite it getting tagged once a week anyway.
CUT TO: THE WCDEE’S
This establishment is different, the owner would really assure you. He’s made a point of offering a few weird elements, in addition to the play-space. There’s mascots…well there were before the actors started costing too much, so they’ve been replaced with animatronics… Which also cost too much but were technically an investment. At least, that’s what he told the franchising board members when they asked him to shut it down.
Not to mention, the animatronics…well…they were a bit… Touchy with the android crowd, not that they got too many, androids but the few they did weren’t exactly upset at the removal.
Admittedly, they don’t get many androids anymore.
Our titular main character darts by the scoops and fumbles with the keys to the place.
CUT TO: INSIDE THE BUILDING
It’s dark in here, admittedly JD is juuust squeaking onto their shift. They should have been here fifteen minutes ago but laundry ran long when the machines wouldn’t dry.
They click open the lock and step inside. They flick on the lights and hm.
Well they always have a habit of underestimating the sheer mess they’re left with. How did someone even manage to get cheese on the ceiling? Those things are almost fifteen feet high to accommodate the tallest guests on the station. Did they get a troupe of giants this time around?
That might have been a bit entertaining to watch if JD didn’t feel a little bad for the mayhem their coworkers put up with on the daily.
They make their way over to the janitor’s closet, they wheel the cart out to the main space and get to scrubbing.
It takes hours to get all the carpets looking more like carpets, less like collectors of mucus and ooze. Takes a couple more to get all the cheese scraped off the ceiling. Why is there so much cheese?
CUT TO: FOUR HOURS LATER
Turns out they still have four hours of their shift after this to spend cleaning up anything but the kitchen which winds up being kitchen staff’s job. Admittedly, JD hasn’t seen a single member of the kitchen staff clean the space. But they wouldn’t know too much about that since they’ve only ever worked a day shift once or twice in the several years they’ve been here.
The bathrooms, are much less of a horror-show now that JD does a pass once a night to get things sorted.
They mosey through the back rooms, spend some time sprucing up the employee lounge, hoping it’ll provide a nice surprise for the staff in the morning.
They take a smoke break out back, check the time. Still two more hours. They roll their eyes. Okay, maybe they will look into picking away at the kitchen.
CUT TO: THE KITCHEN
They stand corrected, kitchen’s clean. Wow. Very thoroughly, too. JD is impressed. They even check the cold storage to make sure. It smells nice in there considering the stuff they call food that’s prepared here–
–Wait does that freezer say, [Do Not Open Until Remy Clocks In]? Well that’s…
…weird.
JD approaches to read the sheet and sure enough that’s exactly what it says. They probably should respect this. But there’s nothing really good to come of a warning like that taped to a freezer door. Curiosity gets the better of JD, and they open up the freezer.
CUT TO: INSIDE THE FREEZER
Aw fuck. Yeah there’s a body in there. Human guy, luckily. It’s not their boss so they’ll still get paid.
Unless, you know, someone finds this guy… And then they shut down the restaurant and then JD just doesn’t get paid at all… They’re stuck looking for a new job doing interviews for a janitorial position cleaning up shit and cheese off a ceiling.
Yeah, alright. They’ll drop it off. Garbage isn’t until tomorrow night but they swore there was a chute behind the auto-shop next door.
They eye the guy in the freezer, starting to feel a real sense of deja-vu.
JD would have shape shifted into this human guy, give the STEWARDS a real run around trying to figure out any witness’ testimony to a guy hauling his own dead ass down the street. It might even be convincing this time, the human part. They’ve gotten pretty decent at it over the years.
But now they’ve gone and fucked up their face so it’s not like that would be a dead giveaway to anyone looking for a shifter.
Whatever.
This thing’s been in the freezer for a while, tugging it out is a nightmare. A frozen one. Patties try to stick to the body–there’s nothing hygienic about any of this. JD–in trying to peel and swat off excessive patties and other miscellaneous frozen foods–stumbles and drops the guy and a couple limbs literally break off.
… Wait. JD leans closer, make that a couple limbs and his nose… Well.. The nose kind of shattered on impact. Yikes. Luckily this guy doesn’t really need any of this. They didn’t realise this freezer was that potent.
That…would explain the taste on some of the menu items.
JD looks at the time and decides to book it a bit quicker. They’ve gotta find out why REMY’s got a crook in his fridge, preferably before GIDEON starts her shift in… Oops… an hour and a half?
CUT TO: HAULING THIS DEAD ASS.
After putting the pieces into some sort of box, JD is moving dead weight, frozen dead weight which somehow makes things heavier than if they weren’t, they’re pretty sure anyway.
But this guy is also… Quickly thawing in the lukewarm temperatures of the SPARKS and this box is getting soggy and this chute…
Well it turns out the auto-shop they pass by to get to work is actually closer to their apartment than it is work so that means it’s over six blocks away instead of the two they expected.
Which means this body is starting to smell and starting to bleed through the cardboard, absolutely putrid. They’re lucky it’s still early morning and nobody’s out. They pick up the pace as much as they can. Huffing and puffing through the exertion.
CUT TO: THE CHUTE.
Okay, in fairness the chutes in PIPETOWN are much bigger than this, you’ve seen them. They send the dismembered arm and leg down without a fuss but this guy’s… Body sure won’t fit all in one piece.
JD takes a deep breath and pulls out one of the bigger knives they took from the kitchen… It was more generally a precaution in case they got caught with a box full of dead body parts and needed to defend themself but really it’s just an old habit from PIPETOWN. They’re admittedly, thanking their gut on this one right now.
They lift the knife and start hacking away. Some real deja-vu this shift. What a cycle.
CUT TO: THE BATHROOM.
A pair of bloody hands wash themselves off in the sink, blood coils down the drain. Those same hands scrub the blood from their face, from their forearms. They scrub away some of the blood on the jumpsuit, glad for its red colouring they only really had to focus on the yellow sleeves. They check the time, 30 minutes until GIDEON’s shift.
CUT TO: REMY’S OFFICE.
It’s been tidied up. JD is still in their base form, sitting on the desk, looking over some paperwork in their hand, their feet propped up on the chair facing the desk. Looks like REMY is neck-deep in his own crime-time. JD should have figured, he must be related to dear old ROD…probably stuck cleaning up his debts if they’re close enough to have the same last name.
Do you think RATTS is a common last name for ysoki? Be pretty unfortunate…or not. JD isn’t really sure what the customs among ysoki really are. They probably ought to look that up a bit more when they get home.
Regardless, this type of crime shit seems to follow JD like a goddamn plague.
Distantly, the sound of keys.
SFX: CHK CLIK–
Of the main door unlocking.
JD lifts their eyes from the sheet of paper and listens as the stranger’s footsteps shuffle quickly through the main room, past the kitchen, into the cold room. There’s a silence.
SFX: THUNK
That’s the freezer lid closing in the pantry. Then there’s the confused shuffling, the wandering around.
REMY comes face to face with JD when he opens the office door and he jumps nearly out of his skin.
REMY
O-OH–oh my–JD!
(recovering)
H-hello, good morning. I see you… Worked very well–hard.
REMY’s smile is a bit strained that time.
JD
Yeah. There was a lot of cheese, on the ceiling.
REMY
Oh–cheese? Only cheese?
JD
On the ceiling? Yeah.
REMY
(wary)
Anywhere… Else?
JD thinks about it.
JD
Mm, no. Did find a body in the freezer though.
REMY and JD exchange a long guarded look.
REMY
(wary)
O-oh…this is…unfortunate.
JD
I’ll say. For the guy in the fridge and the guy who owns the fridge, probably.
REMY struggles to read JD. Common being REMY’s second language means he misses tone, sometimes and takes things very literally.
He’s got it this time, though. JD watches the older ysoki’s shoulders droop as he sighs.
REMY
JD…I…I did not–
JD
Kill him or not, it’s really none of my business. But I did take care of him for you. At least, whoever you pissed off won’t be the wiser and the Stewards got the run around.
REMY hesitates. Blinks as the realisation hits him.
REMY
You did this?
He seems shocked, moved, even. The look JD is getting makes them uncomfortable.
JD
(guarded)
Well, I didn’t do it for free or anything.
REMY nods, covering his relief with a more business-like tone.
REMY
Ah. Of course. W-what is this you want then?
JD
A pay raise.
REMY
(eager)
Three credits more an hour.
JD gives REMY a look to suggest that’s really less than bare minimum. REMY’s ears droop.
REMY
You are only here eleven months…
JD
Anyone else get rid of a dead guy for you?
REMY sighs.
REMY
Five–
JD
Ten.
REMY
Ten?!
REMY curses in another language, likely ysoki, but JD doesn’t know it well enough, to know exactly what he said.
JD
Ten… And I’ll cover you.
REMY hesitates, looking at them…and then looking away from them.
REMY
Cover?
JD
If the Stewards show up. If the guys looking for that dead guy come sniffing around. If trouble knocks on your door. Whatever.
REMY blinks, surprised, he steps inside the office and clicks it shut behind him.
REMY
Eh… W-why?
JD
I need this job. I need off this station, sir.
The two exchange another look and JD internally curses because something about what they said or HOW they said it elicits that pitying look from their boss of all alien. This guy’s way too soft to be picking around in crime circles.
REMY approaches them and pats a little ysoki paw against their knee.
REMY
If I am honest? I can do seven for now. Ten is…
(sighs)
I would like this. But there is not much money… This is why I am… This is why… Ah…
JD
There was a dead body in your freezer.
REMY
(uncomfortable)
Mm. Yes.
JD
Yeah. Seven works.
REMY glances to JD with an apologetic look. JD holds his gaze and looks away, sighing.
JD
Yeah. I’ll still cover for you.
REMY
Thank you, JD.
He glances around his office as JD stands, setting the sheet on the desk.
JD
You shouldn’t keep this lying around. Anyone could step in here and find it. Crime stuff’s in the locked drawer of your desk, keys in the top drawer, the rest…
JD points to the various filing cabinet drawers.
JD
Accounting, payroll, suppliers… Mm miscellaneous, you might know what those are more than I did.
REMY looks, maybe embarrassed, maybe grateful…possibly moved, again. JD has to flick their gaze away because the look makes them uncomfortable.
REMY
Ok. Yes. Good… Thank you.
JD turns to leave, hesitating at the door before eying REMY.
JD
Mm… Maybe give Gideon a bonus, if you can. She breaks her back out there.
REMY
(exasperated)
Yes, yes. Fine. Yes. Go on. I will not pay this overtime with you.
JD can’t help a little smirk as they start off for the morning. Exhausted. They pass GIDEON on the way by, the two of them exchanging an awkward greeting before JD sets off for the long walk home.
68. INT. JD’S APARTMENT — MORNING
When they get home, things feel, marginally, less bleak. JD pulls up a stack of sticky notes, and marks the day off with a tick before they stick it up by their window. The plan is, they’re going to save up enough credits, for a life off-station. Maybe they’ll join a crew, follow them for a while. Maybe they’ll find a new planet in the system to fuck up on.
Maybe they’ll visit home.
Mm.
Maybe they won’t visit home…ever again.
Anyway–with this new bonus they won’t just be scraping by, paying rent, paying groceries, keeping quiet. Maybe they can finally save some up. They’ve got scraps from the last couple years…but maybe they can save up enough to leave by the end of the year…maybe two.
The thought gives them some sort of optimism they really haven’t felt in some time. Not since IZOLA…
JD pushes the thought away, scrubbing their face on their towel as they step out of the shower, turning to the mirror the scars on their face glare back hard enough they look away. JD brushes their teeth and settles into their hammock.
They spend the morning looking up travel requirements and scouring bulletins for classifieds, crews looking for ship hands, looking for clean up, looking for someone whose got skills with a gun, maybe a knife or two.
Probably best to avoid those.
JD scrolls and scrolls until they crash with their comm against their chest and for once they sleep and sleep and sleep without waking up to a nightmare.
69. INT. WCDEE’S EMPLOYEE ROOM — EVENING
JD is looking down at a text from an unknown number that says.
[daddy’s dead.]
Another text comes in.
[official this morning]
[i think he made me in charge ill know for sure in a couple days w/ the whole will thing]
One more.
[service is on seconday. promise i’ll fix everything.]
And,
[you should come…]
[please]
It’s moments like this that the scars on their face start to burn, like the day they got them. JD grits their teeth and forces the bile creeping up their throat, back down again.
GIDEON
Oof. Bad news?
JD startles, glancing up from their comm. They toss it in their locker. Take their cap out and shut the door behind them.
JD
Yeah.
They put on their cap and start off before GIDEON can say anything more. Not that the two are terribly chatty to begin with… Just in case she gets any ideas.
They grab the cleaning cart from the closet and start to work.
CUT TO: EVERYONE’S GONE, IT’S JUST JD IN THE WCDEE’S
JD’s got their gloved hand in the toilet, scrubbing and scrubbing and with each scrub and scrape they break down the pros and cons of BOZ BARKFANG’s death… Rest in filth. JD scowls and hopes his funeral is as unceremonious as possible. It’s an impossible dream, really. The gnoll is going to get a fantastic reception even if he was feared throughout PIPETOWN.
FRANKIE’s insane if she thinks they’re going to show up for that. They haven’t answered the several years worth of sporadic texts she’s given them, why would they show up now?
CUT TO: BEHIND THE WCDEE’S
They scoff to themself as they smoke their e-cig out behind the restaurant. They don’t even pull up their phone because they can’t even bare looking at the outreach of two miserable contacts they don’t want to talk to and the one they wish would pull them out of this mess.
And REMY… I guess. He’s made it into their phone because occasionally he texts JD about a shady question or two. They keep telling him he’s got to be more subtle with his messages but he’s an older ysoki whose sole dream was to open a five-star restaurant in the EYE… Not… This shithole.
Otherwise, REMY is texting them in ysokian and JD’s been learning the language, they’ve gotten pretty fluent in it.
CUT TO: BACK INSIDE THE WCDEE’S
JD is buffing the floors with the wax machine, watching the spin of the wheel as they glide it across laminate. What was she even thinking? JD would just show up to BOZ’s funeral? That’s a death sentence. For them anyway. She never really considered them much.
Not that they’re considering it. They’re not sure they’d be able to restrain themself from spitting on the gnoll’s death drawer…
If not worse.
Now that would be a proper death sentence.
CUT TO: THE BREAK ROOM
JD sighs, putting their stuff away, pulling up their phone and skimming the last few messages sent by the unknown number.
[cmon jd]
[you cant stay mad forever]
[i said i was sorry]
[i could really use a friend right now]
[please]
REMY [OS]
JD?
For the second time tonight, JD startles, glancing over to their boss frowning in the doorway. They feel the buzz of their phone in their hand as a new message comes in but they shove it back in the locker instead.
JD
Uh, what’s up, boss?
REMY
We must talk, come.
REMY darts off towards his office before JD can say anything otherwise. Judging by his demeanour… This isn’t about to be great news.
CUT TO: REMY’S OFFICE
JD slips inside the office, ever glad that REMY’s managed to keep it clean since the day they organised it for him. REMY is fussing around it though, pretending to straighten up papers, fidgeting with pens as JD takes a seat. He mutters quietly to himself.
REMY
(in ysoki)
<<Now where did I put this payroll note.>>
JD
(also in ysoki)
<<We digitized it. On your datapad.>>
REMY looks a little surprised by the response but he looks at JD with a proud little smile.
REMY
<<I see your practice is paying off.>>
JD shrugs, trying to keep it light.
JD
<<Helps when your boss keeps sending you texts in ysoki and you keep having to translate them.>>
REMY laughs a little embarrassed as he pulls up the datapad and places it on the desk. He gets focused but the old ysoki’s gotten real good at navigating this thing. He heaves a small sigh.
JD
This feels like maybe bad news…
REMY
It’s your pay… JD.
Suddenly this chair feels too big, the cushion flattened hard. They shift uncomfortably.
JD
Oh… Yeah…?
REMY
Yes… I will have to, what is– <<dock?>> it.
JD
Ah.
REMY
<<This is not because you did a poor job, it’s just that I need to still pay everyone and the money… It just isn’t–>>
JD shakes their head.
JD
It’s fine. How much?
REMY
Five credits–four… Start with four.
Oof. Well, they’re lucky they’ve been extremely frugal the last four years and have been saving a great deal of their extra cash. Maybe it’s time to start hunting for a way off the station. JD takes a deep breath and lets their boss off the hook.
JD
Ah, yeah. Okay.
REMY
<<It’s just there needs to be renovations, this will help later, I can–>>
TRANSITION: JD WALKING HOME
JD [VO]
It’s fine, Remy. Don’t worry about it.
JD frowns as they walk. It’s really quiet out this early in the morning. Not many people are wandering the streets of the SPARKS. JD assumes things get busier during the day but they honestly aren’t out much during normal hours to really underline the difference.
But this detail is important to them right now, because they’re positive they’re being tailed. They’ve noted someone following them for a few blocks. Short guy, dressed in a big coat and a hat to obscure their face. JD is mostly sure it’s a gnoll. They bypass their building and walk until they lose the tail before they turn in.
Weird.
They’re trying not to think about it, too much.
70.EXT. THE DOCKS — MORNING
The docks are packed early this morning, aliens can be seen pushing trollies and trucks filled with boxes and packaging. It’s easy to get lost in the throng of movement shoving through itself. It’s honestly just like JD remembers it. A cluster of bodies darting, running, slithering and skittering hurriedly towards their destination.
If all goes well, they’ll meet with this captain and be back to work before their shift starts. Maybe with good news, for them…bad news for REMY. Maybe they’ll even put in their two-weeks and be off station before they can blink.
They try not to get their hopes up, but the prospect flutters excitedly in their chest…um…sorry REMY.
JD checks their comm where only one captain of the their three prospects answered. They were looking for clean-up staff and headed to VERCES, some sort of trading gig. They could opt to stick with the crew and keep jumping planet to planet with them on a grand space adventure, if that all worked out.
Or they could just dip on VERCES and hope they could turn over a new leaf that way. Starting from scratch was rough on ABSALOM but maybe this time, it’ll be different. They’ve got enough credits to start over, and well, at least this time they actually want to start over.
As they make their way through the docking bays, the rush of other bodies dwindles, things get quieter the closer JD gets to the end of the arms.
The captain said Docking Bay 77, turns out this one’s tucked in a quieter nook. Looks a little bit run down but does the job. JD is holding onto that glimmer of hope. The excitement. The reality of it is sitting heavy on their shoulders, they try not to think of what-ifs and doubts.
This is their chance to leave things behind and start somewhere new on their own terms. It’s a conscious choice they’re making.
Something squirms in the pit of their stomach though, not quite right.
They spot a straight-backed KASATHA in a labcoat, looking over some notes, this isn’t the captain they spoke to, that one’s an android. It’s, admittedly, why they trusted them in the first place. Androids seem to be a bit more of the straight-shooting type. But maybe that’s just assumption.
JD
Hey, excuse me, looking for Captain Cent?
The KASATHA turns to them, looks them over from toe to head, derisively.
KASATHA
And… you are?
JD
JD, new hire for clean up.
The KASATHA looks over their notes, leaving JD hanging for a moment long enough they almost speak up again but the KASATHA interrupts them.
KASATHA
Keep going straight, make a right. Can’t miss the big bronze eyesore.
JD
Thanks.
JD darts off in the direction the KASATHA mentioned. Docked in the bay is a vessel, small enough for their crew of four, no doubt. It’s got a great deal of detailing and a shiny copper-gold finish that is certainly a beacon out in space.
But hey, JD isn’t complaining. That’s their ride out of here. As far as they’re aware, it’s stunning.
JD takes a deep breath and spots an android with a retrofit head looking like a helmet with a visor that looks like it might be a screen display of some sort. She’s got her feet propped up on a table and looks like she might be snoozing? They approach the table and tap their knuckle against it.
JD
Busy day?
The android takes a second to shift, turning her helmet to face them. The screen flickers to life with a question mark. She signs in common with her hands.
CAPTAIN CENT
(???)
<<Could be busier, who are you?>>
JD
Cleaning crew. At least, that’s what your ad requested. We messaged last night.
CAPTAIN CENT
<<JD?>>
JD
Yep.
CAPTAIN CENT
<<You crew before?>>
JD
Years ago. Trade ship bound to Absalom.
CAPTAIN CENT
<<Where from?>>
JD
Eox.
CAPTAIN CENT
(??)
<<Eox? Interesting.>>
JD can tell she’s trying to figure them out but their shifting makes a lot of things about them a little bit ambiguous. Even when they aren’t trying to be.
JD
Not really. Barely atmospheric rock with a bunch of undead guys on it.
CAPTAIN CENT
(hahaha)
<<So you’re not I take it?>>
JD
(scoffs)
Depends what you need me for.
CAPTAIN CENT shifts out of her seat and stands just about a head taller than JD’s six feet. She’s built like a brick-shit house too, broad shoulders.
CAPTAIN CENT
(…)
<<You’re going to make this kinda hard for me. You’re a funny guy, JD.>>
JD
(leery)
Mm. Lots of folks think I’m funny.
JD glances over their shoulder as an ORC puts their hand on them with a firm grip. Their hair covers their eyes.
CAPTAIN CENT
(…)
<<We’re looking for credits.>>
JD
I don’t think I’d be applying for a job if I had credits.
CAPTAIN CENT
<<You’re buying your way to freedom and freedom doesn’t come cheap.>>
JD
I don’t have any.
CAPTAIN CENT
<<Better have something, or you’ll be the doc’s new scientific research. Pay up, you walk like nothing happened.>>
Oh, that doubt from earlier is eating up all their excitement and replacing it with shame. They got desperate and didn’t dig deep enough. It’s been a few months since REMY docked their pay and they were already picking into their savings to make due on rent.
Why is it they’re always running low on time?
Fuck it. Last ditch effort, JD twists out of the ORC’s grip and books it. They’re a bit out of practice and were never a guy on the ground but they can be slippery when they want to–oh shit.
Not fast enough. The ORC is small but–are they running on all fours?? This guy’s modded to hell and back. JD cuts around the corner but doesn’t make it too far before the KASATHA sticks them with a dart on the way by.
Quickly, their limbs grow heavy and they stumble into kissing the ground face-first.
CUT TO: DOCK 77 … BUT IT’S NIGHT.
JD startles awake tucked in some corner. Their comm sits on their lap, flickering with a little caricature of CAPTAIN CENT flipping them off.
They blink slowly, eyes struggling to focus. It’s quiet here, or maybe their ears are still struggling to catch up. JD lifts a heavy hand to scrub at their face, wincing when their fingers connect with a bruise on the good side of their face. They pull themself out of the thick fog in their brain, staring at the caricature on their phone as bits and pieces come back to them. The android captain pulling the wool over their eyes, the modded orc, the needle…
JD’s fingers touch a sensitive prick in their arm, the needle’s been pulled free but even that’s still bruised. They swallow their heart, eyes still taking in their hacked phone.
Trying not to think too hard about it, they decide on the first step and it’s getting the hell out of a vulnerable spot in the docking bay. This isn’t PIPETOWN but it’s not much safer, especially incapacitated like this.
JD pockets the comm and pulls themself out of the corner, limbs still heavy with sedative as they trundle through the docks.
CUT TO: THE COMMUTE HOME…
…well, it’s dismal, on the tram JD touches their face gingerly where a bruise has already set. Great. They look over their phone where CAPTAIN CENT is still flipping them off. They push it through three hard reboots before they can get access to it.
They check their credit wallet and its down to a scrap 0. Man. Couldn’t even leave them some chump change for groceries.
And they’re totally late for a shift they won’t even be functional for. REMY will be real happy about that. Probably more than getting a two-weeks slapped on his desk.
At least one of them would have been happy about it.
JD decides to cut their losses and skip work entirely. Not like they’d be totally functional with the sedative still swimming in their system.
71. EXT. THE SPARKS — NIGHT
JD steps off the train, pocketing their comm and pulling out a smoke. The train leaves behind them and JD looks around to find they got off a stop too early. They watch the train disappear down the tracks and sigh. They light their smoke and get walking. Nice long refreshing walk in the SPARKS on a night they could bury themself in shame.
Oh well, nice long walk it is. They make their way through the streets. It’s quiet, just about midnight now. Anyone out is making their way home. JD exhales smoke, inhales smoke, exhales smoke and each breath they make themself smaller and smaller on the inside. Everything they saved up for, wasted.
They could start from scratch…they scoff to themself. Sure. They’ll never make back that money. They had nearly fifty thousand in credits saved up for a new life.
SFX: BZZT BZZT.
About a block away from home JD gets a message. They pull their phone up, quickly flick away from their wallet’s screen and find a new message from M.
[Traveling? Oh… That’s good. Just. Be careful, yes?]
She really does have the worst timing. JD stops walking, staring at the text. They shut their eyes and sigh a stream of smoke. They rub their face on the bad side before they stick the cig to their lips and start to reply:
[Nevermind. Bad ide–]
But they don’t get to finish it because in the alley, behind JD a figure, smallish, yanks them backward. Their cigarette slips from their mouth, their comm from their hands, landing hard with a:
SFX: CLAK!
JD stumbles back, their attacker is smaller than them, and, luckily, while they weren’t paying too much attention earlier, the danger in the moment triggers JD’s reflexes. Their attacker aims to shove them against the wall but JD turns the motion on them, pinning the stranger against the metal instead, fluid motion pulling the knife they keep in their boot and sticking it to their attacker’s neck.
The hood drops to reveal…
JD
(confused)
E…milio…?
Though they’re still trying to process Emilio’s face being here they don’t loosen their grip, in fact they make it tighter.
EMILIO
(nervous)
Heh. Looks like you’re still getting into trouble, huh.
The bruise on their face almost aches with the pressure of his gaze raking across it.
JD
(irritated)
Where’s your little posse?
EMILIO’s ears bend backward.
EMILIO
(miserable)
Oh…didn’t you hear…? Frankie took over the Barkfangs.
JD
Yeah, she won’t shut up about it.
EMILIO
(wary)
W-wait… Are you two… I thought you were both…
JD
No. We’re not.
EMILIO
Okay. If you say so, then that’s just. Well that works out pretty perfect.
(hesitates)
It’s just, ah, sounds like maybe you’ve been talking to her, still?
JD
What do you want, Emilio?
EMILIO
W-well. It’s not really just about what I want, but maybe something that we want. Both of us.
JD
Whatever this is. I’m not in the mood.
JD shoves away from him and sighs. As much as pulverising the twerp might… Not only be easy without his little troupe, it’s just not really worth the energy. Then FRANKIE will really be on their ass about it.
Family always looks out for family.
EMILIO
JD–f-fuck–wait–don’t you want to get some payback?? For what Pops did to you?
JD
Your dad’s dead. Be nice to spit on his grave but I think I’ll live.
EMILIO
Well, yeah… But what if you could get Frankie? She didn’t give ya those scars b-but I know she didn’t exactly stop… Him… From doin’ it to ya…
JD looks at him, dead pan for a moment before they turn to leave the alley, but EMILIO scrambles to get in front of them and block their exit.
EMILIO
Wait–WAIT–come on, JD. I know–Fuck. I know my sister and I know she totally fucked up your life because that’s just the shit that she does. She picks people up and smashes them down because that’s what Pops did. She’s no better, she’s just a dumber version of him.
JD
I’m not getting into your family drama, Emilio. Unless you got a shitload of credits you can part with. I’ve got nothing for you.
JD shoves past him.
EMILIO
How much?
They stop.
JD
What?
EMILIO
Give me a number.
JD
Sixty, thousand.
EMILIO doesn’t even balk, he holds a hand out for JD to shake.
EMILIO
Done.
JD
Upfront.
EMILIO
(amused)
I’m not an idiot, JD.
JD
Fine. Half up, half after.
EMILIO sighs and gives them a look.
EMILIO
Look, once I usurp Frankie I can get it to you, guaranteed.
JD
I know you have a shit opinion of me, Emilio, but I’m also not an idiot.
EMILIO rolls his eyes.
EMILIO
Fine.
JD moves to pick up their comm where they dropped it, eying the cracked screen with a frown.
EMILIO, meanwhile, digs a credstick out of his pocket.
EMILIO
Start with whatever’s on this stick. I’ll get you another bit when the job’s done and the rest when I take over.
JD stares at him, taking a deep breath. They hesitate long enough he wiggles the stick at them. JD snatches it out of his hand and plugs it into their comm. They watch their wallet populate with ten-thousand credits.
Surprised, JD flicks their gaze to EMILIO.
EMILIO
(smug)
This works out. I might even have more work for you.
JD
We’ll see.
They pocket their comm and cross their arms.
JD
Fine. What exactly were you thinking?
EMILIO grins.
EMILIO
Well, I’m glad you asked.