The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!
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05.10.2013 , 01:13 PM |
Planes, Trains, and Thrantamobiles
Dankin stepped out of the spaceport into the sunny, beautiful city of Imbraani on the agricultural world of Qiilura. Qiilura was a useless planet. Utterly useless. Except for its exports, such as the sought-after foods like barq. It was awesome when baked as a bread, or when used as a seasoning atop meat. Dankin could attest to this, as whenever he had extra credits he bought some and stocked it in the ship.
Imbraani was not a big city, maybe the size of Jiguuna on Hutta, but it was much cleaner. The people were total hillbillies, worse than Corso. In fact, as Dankin glanced back, he saw Corso standing at the threshold of the spaceport, frozen with mouth agape.
"Okay," he said. "I love this place."
"Corso," he said, "don't get any ideas. We're not staying any longer than it takes me to pick up that crate of merlies."
Merlies were local animals, medium-sized and according to the locals, "distressingly intelligent." Dankin never would have taken the crate of the animals, but it had been a special request from an old friend on Dantooine who was starting a farm and needed animals, so he had complied.
"Stay here," Dankin said. "Watch for trouble."
He hopped on his speeder, an Ubrikkian Crimson Skull model, and shot off. He'd bought the speeder in a brief fit of madness when Guss had bet him he couldn't find anything more farmboy-ish than Corso's old rifle, a hodge-podge wooden weapon Corso had nicknamed Sgt. Boom-Boom. Dankin had responded by buying three things from the Hutt Cartel market: a wide-brimmed hat, a toothpick (Guss still wondered why Dankin always kept it in his mouth, but that thing had been
), and the Crimson Skull, complete with a krayt dragon skull mag-clamped to the front.
Dankin had won the bet.
As he reminisced on these things, he failed to see the holo announcing:
SCHOOL IN SESSION, SPEED LIMIT 30 KPH
. Too late, Dankin started to slow down–
And there was the shrill whine of a police speeder. Dankin rolled his eyes, sighed, and pulled over. He hopped off the speeder, pulled the toothpick from his mouth, and glanced long-sufferingly at the officer.
"License and registration," the officer said.
He'd been a smuggler for years and never been caught, and he was going to get written up for speeding. Unbelievable. He sighed and pulled out his speeder license. He handed it to the officer.
"I'm gonna let you off with a warnin'," said the officer, "since yer an offworlder. But ya don't come speedin' round here n' more, ya got it?"
"Yes, off'cer," Dankin replied, putting a sarcastic drawl in his voice. "An'thin' you says, sir."
He spent the next four hours in jail.
The Life of Lieutenant Pierce
Life Aboard the Thunderclap
Legacy of Destruction
Rise of Black Sun