Twinks in Space: Destination Unknown - Part One - 6. Chapter 6 - Stawren

Phentrom swung open his door, leapt from the buggy, and yelled, “Lyoth, get over here!”

“It’s all right,” Lyoth replied. He turned back to look at his beloved, as a woman stepped into view.

She was very pale with pitch-black hair. Over one of her shoulders was slung a bow, and a quiver of arrows hung from the other. She was smiling wide.

“Sorry I used you two foreigners as bait,” she commented, “but these assholes have been nothing but trouble. Damn satisfying!” She leaned down and started yanking her arrows out of the corpses.

“Thank you for not killing us,” Phentrom murmured, trying not to look at the bodies on the bloodstained street.

“Welcome to Boullia Bay, where tourists sun themselves on some parts of our islands, and us locals slaughter each other in other parts. I’m Stawren, named after the star wrens of Allthrin.” She looked down at the knife wounds in the corpses. “You’re kind of a badass,” she declared to Lyoth.

“I’ve been a high-ranking officer on a private space colony vessel for several years,” he explained.

“You’re no where near old enough for retirement from a position like that,” Stawren stated. “Did you get discharged or something?”

Phentrom spoke up, “My name is Phentrom, but my designation is 5NTR0M.”

“Wow! You’re a synthetic?” Stawren asked in a delighted tone. “I’ve never met one who openly admitted that it was.”

“I’m a pleasure android.”

“Oh my gods,” Stawren blurted out, “you’re a sex robot?!” She burst into boisterous laughter.

To Lyoth’s surprise, Phentrom also let out an amused laugh. “I provide companionship,” he countered with a grin. “And this is Lyoth,” he added, gazing at him. “My Artificial Intelligence Programming is malfunctioning; I’ve evolved the capacity to fall in love with a human.” They interlaced their fingers.

Lyoth pulled Phentrom’s hand up and kissed the back of it. “We left the ship together,” he added.

Stawren was nonplused. “Cute!” she squeaked. “But why are you coming from the treehood?”

The men looked at each other.

“I think we got some bad directions when we first got to town,” Phentrom admitted.

“Seems like it,” she replied. “Which way did you come from?”

“From the direction of Lomia.”

“Huh, yeah, you two should have taken the road we call the loop. It runs along the water. Now, help me hide these bodies, and let’s get ourselves somewhere safer than here. My dad’s spot is a good place to blend in.”

Lyoth grabbed the ankles of one of the dead men and dragged him to the side of the road out of the way. A moment later, the four bodies were in a pile and Stawren stepped over the corpses like they were nothing.

Phentrom joined them to move the boulder in front of the buggy. The stone had cracked into two pieces with the force of its impact, and the trio managed to shift them beside the corpses. The other huge rock was immovable, but Stawren informed the men that people from the city would come take care of it.

She stepped into a narrow alley and wheeled a motorized dirt bike onto the street. “Hop in your cart and follow me!”

Lyoth and Phentrom drove out into the sunshine, and less than three blocks from the statue with the large penis, the city changed into a vivid and lively region full of shops and restaurants. Bright banners hung from many of the buildings and massive murals adorned entire walls. The trio passed an open grassy pavilion that was surrounded by buildings on four sides. There was a library, a museum of art, a museum of science, and a school.

Stawren slowed to turn her bike down a narrow side street just beyond the library, and she parked. Phentrom pulled over on the main strip, and he and Lyoth climbed out of the buggy.

“Come on inside,” Stawren called, unlocking a nondescript door just off the strip. “This is the back entrance of Her Majesty’s Hole. It’s my dad’s place. It opens every evening at sunset.” She pulled the door and entered the darkness.

Lyoth and Phentrom peeked in as a string of lights blinked to life. They watched Stawren head through the shadows to a panel on the far side of the open space where she flipped a few more switches. Spotlights flared to life above a wide dance floor, a stage, and a polished counter of dark wood.

“Oh, it’s a club!” Phentrom declared.

Stawren laughed. “It is indeed,” she replied. “My dad hosts shows and events here. He’s a hoot! Can I fix you fellas a drink or a snack? I’m not much of a cook, but I’m sure we can scrounge something up for you.”

“All our food and supplies were on the shuttle,” Lyoth said in a low voice.

“What shuttle?” Stawren asked.

Phentrom took Lyoth’s hand. “A missile blew up our landing shuttle after we arrived on the planet. We’re pretty sure someone was trying to kill me because of my malfunctioning A.I.P.,” and he brought a fingertip to his temple.

“We don’t know if they’re aware that the two of us survived,” Lyoth added, “but we either need to find travel off-world, or we need to hide out where we won’t be found.”

Stawren let out a laugh, but she brought her hand to her mouth. “Sorry!” she squawked. “What you said isn’t funny, but yes, we’ll be able to hide you here for a while. This place is known for costumes.” She extended her arms and waved at the club’s empty interior. “Now, let’s figure out something to eat. The cooking fires won’t be lit until the chef gets here, but we’ve got salted fish that we serve cold, and there’s still half a loaf of crusty bread from last night. Let me grab you each a meteor shower ale.”

She placed the food onto the countertop and headed into the back.

Lyoth sampled the salted fish. “Oooh! It’s so delicate and savory; it melts on your tongue. Mmm…” he hummed.

Phentrom tore off a chunk of bread and handed it to Lyoth, and he pulled off another piece for himself as Stawren came back into the front of the tavern carrying three bottles of beer. She opened them, set one in front of both the men, and she took a long swig from hers.

“Stawren, I’ve never heard of star wrens,” Phentrom commented.

“Oh, they’re this teeny-tiny species of birds. They can hover and they have these needle beaks to drink nectar from flowers.”

“They sound like hummingbirds,” Phentrom ventured.

“Yeah, they’re very similar,” Stawren confirmed, “but they live underground in caves.”

Lyoth spoke up, “Stawren, can I ask, who were those men who attacked us?”

“Pirate off-worlders who come here to terrorize the locals,” Stawren answered. “They’ve taken advantage of the people for years, and a few of my friends have been killed over the past six months. I was just a kid when everything on the islands went to shit, and I was involved in a lot of protests and attempted uprisings as a youth.”

Stawren’s demeanor darkened. “But when I got married a few years ago, my wife encouraged me to be less involved. She ended up as one of their victims. Her name was Viotij.” Stawren sighed. “She was alone in the shallows at dusk, clamming for the shellfish that would go with the sides I was prepping for dinner at our house, but she never came home. Viotij’s body was found in an alleyway. She caught a stray blaster bolt right in the stomach. There was a shootout between some of these off-worlder assholes and a rival gang that had smuggled some advanced weapons from one of the private war manufacturers. Viotij was just unlucky, bad timing and in the wrong place.”

Stawren stopped talking and took another drink from the bottle of ale.

Phentrom reached out, placed his hand on hers, and he offered in a quiet voice, “We’re so sorry for your loss.”

“When did this happen? When did you lose her?” Lyoth asked.

Stawren did not reply.

“I’m sorry…” Lyoth began.

“Six weeks ago,” Stawren answered with forced calm.

“Oh gods, hunny,” Phentrom gasped, “That’s horrible.”

Stawren cleared her throat and nodded toward the street. “I’ve been stalking those assholes since they arrived last week.”

Lyoth’s brow furrowed. “Those weren’t the thugs who killed… Viotij?” he attempted.

Stawren’s lips cracked with the tiniest smile. “You said her name perfectly. I loved her name. And the truth? I don’t know who killed her, but the gangsters have been causing trouble since I was 11, old enough to realize everything was suddenly different, but too young to know what caused the change. It’s been over 15 years. Tourists still come,” she added with a roll of her eyes.

“We weren’t tourists,” Lyoth interjected. “We were going to stay here, set up a home for ourselves.”

“But everything we brought has been destroyed,” Phentrom added.

Stawren scrunched up her face in thought. “I’ve got an idea.”

The three of them heard a door open in the tavern’s back of the house.

“That’s probably the chef,” Stawren informed Lyoth and Phentrom.

A man with Blue skin stepped out behind the bar.

“Dad?!” Stawren squeaked. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Hello, daughter, and hello to my daughter’s friends!”

“Lyoth and Phentrom,” Stawren said to them, “this is my father, Jintrin.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Jintrin declared. He grinned at Stawren. “I saw you three enter through the back. I was enjoying a nice cuppa inside Rungo’s Teahouse.” He looked over at Lyoth and Phentrom. “It’s across the street. Welcome to the Hole!”

Jintrin was a large man, and he was shirtless. His long black hair was braided, and his face was clean-shaven. Jintrin’s Blue skin bore some of the classic Allthrin-style white tattoos that showed up so stark on the epidermis of the Allarei.

What brings you two gents to our part of the islands?”

“We were supposed to be new residents here,” Phentrom answered.

“But they were attacked, and they’ve lost everything,” Stawren explained.

“Oh, gods, I’m so sorry, fellas,” Jintrin replied. “Are you both alright?”

“Dad, I think we need to hold a benefit for them.”

Jintrin smiled. “Stawren, I think a benefit is a marvelous idea. We’ll hold it this weekend, and we’ll let the regulars know tonight. They can spread the word for the next two days.” He turned to Lyoth and Phentrom. “So, tell me your story.”