DE63

What had been a lively party was now an emptied out room littered with half-empty bottles and glitter on the floor. Everyone fled the second K'Artus, a visiting noble from an outer colony, dropped out of nowhere. Nothing kills a party like some powerful asshole maybe dying.

WQ15 called up the only person she figured would be able to handle this discreetly, and she managed to sound just panicked enough to guilt trip the bastard into helping her. DE63, the notorious once a med school wiz turned organ smuggler and current sugar baby, was there in no time.

Using his fingernail, DE63 scratched K'Artus' arm. When a faint, pale line appeared, DE63 quickly realized what he was working with. Frail, he thought, No wonder his heart is so slow.

"How much did they take?" DE63 asked, inspecting the passed out noble.

"Hardly anything, two tabs. Maybe three?" she said. "I've never seen anything like this. Is he going to die?"

DE63 shook his head. "No, probably not. Not if we want to live, anyway. We need to jolt his system though."

"Do you need a liver? There's a human that hangs out in the alley," she said plainly.

"No," DE63 responded quickly, maybe too quickly. Almost as if he were averse to the idea for some reason. But no. He answered practically. Human organs wouldn't help here, regardless.

Using the meager supplies DE63 had at hand, he managed to bring K'Artus' heart rate and blood pressure up. Just in time for enforcers to show up. DE63 heard them approaching, always on alert for shit like this he went to grab the noble and turned toward WQ15. "We need to-" he started, only to find WQ15 was already gone. Likely fled figuring that DE63 could handle this himself.

Shit, shit, shit, his mind raced as he eased the noble back down and looked for an exit. Concern for anyone other than himself quickly fading as he bolted for an exit that led to an alleyway.

The kid's probably fine! he reasoned. Enforcers will find him. He's fine!

As he exited, enforcers entered and he managed to hear the noble speak, cry even.

"Some horrible commoners forced me to..." the noble started. DE63 couldn't stick around to hear the best as he scrambled away.

Are you fucking kidding me?! he thought as he realized he was not only getting thrown under the bus, but while he was still on the premises. The punk couldn't even wait for me to get away!

At this rate, he wouldn't be able to make it to his pod or back to Th'Roun for that matter.

The only thing available was a primitive looking dumpster that the poorer districts on the planet used here and there. If there were biomatter, it could obstruct any scans. Not able to hesitate, he lifted the lid. Neon lights flooded the container, his nose filling with filth. Not the worst place I've crashed.

But right before jumping in, he caught a glimpse of something. Someone? Definitely someone!

Is someone in there? He wondered as he took a quick glance in the dumpster. There was definitely someone. For sure a figure. Human? Flyu? It was hard to tell in the split second he had to assess the hiding spot.

Without many options, he decided he'd take his chances and jumped in regardless.

"Stay still," he said in a low voice.

DE63 paused as he was walking down to Th’Roun’s room.

Crying, he realized.

Somewhere, just around the corner, someone was crying at a viewport.

He gave himself a second to try to distinguish who it was. Not dramatic enough to be Morgan… Not pathetic enough to be Fisher. The other two weren’t really criers.

Unless it wasn’t human.

Oh stars help me, if there’s a royal prick bawling their eyes out… he took a big breath before finally rounding the corner. Hopefully they’re so busy sobbing that they don’t notice me.

Alright, that confirms it, he thought as he walked down into the sketchier parts of the neighborhood. I’m being followed.

He’d been suspicious for a while now. Not sure why, but something was definitely following him. At least they were smart enough to stay out of sight.

At first, he brushed it off. He considered it was paranoia, sleep deprivation.

Just a bit more… he thought as he approached a warehouse he was a bit more familiar with. WQ15, a flyu he’d had the displeasure of knowing, worked the entire area. After being called by them to do some handy work in the past, he’d gotten used to the place.

It can be assumed that any handy work he did had more to do with livers and blood than home improvement, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings.

Quickly, he slipped in an unassuming alley, waiting in a blind spot. When his pursuer caught up, he grabbed them. Pulling them close.

“Got you.”

“I heard acetaminophen gives humans autism,” Fisher breathed, almost more of a whisper than real words.

DE63 was vaguely familiar with the old Earth drug, but familiar enough to know it didn’t cause genetic disorders. Not wanting to bother correcting a human, he probed further, sitting next to Fisher.

“Oh, do go on,” he prompted.

“Yeah, and it’s very serious. I assume that’s why Th’Roun doesn’t give us drugs. It’s terminal,” Fisher sighed, his face all too serious for someone just talking out their ass. But it was his genuine concern that made the whole thing so worth watching. “Terminal autism, I just learned about it.”

From who? DE63 wondered, fighting with himself and trying desperately to not laugh. Nonsense like this needed to be enjoyed earnestly. “Oh, Fisher…” he said in a strained voice as he tried not to laugh. “That’s horrible.”

There it is again! he thought, throwing the blanket off himself. DE63 reached over and shook Th’Roun. “Hey, there’s something in your vents!” DE63 insisted.

Th’Roun, predictably, dismissed DE63’s concerns with a wave. He said something too, but the half asleep mumble was impossible to understand.

This has been going on for several nights, as artificial as nights were on the ship, now and DE63 finally snapped wanting to get to the bottom of things. “Fine, stay asleep, your highness.”

DE63 aggressively swung off the bed, yanking a robe on with the kind of violent energy someone could only have after being woken up in the middle of your sleep cycle.

After exiting, he yanked off a panel to a vent and stuck his head in. “I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE!” He shouted, looking downright deranged.