Here's a little one-off, short story, set in the world I've been writing and creating. I've written so many notes and have had so many ideas for the world, but, getting in on the ground-level writing for these one-off characters has been a lot of fun and has really helped me beef out the world even further.
"I don't want you working for some deadbeat." The words rang around Urien Raschek's head, his father was always overprotective in a rough around the edges kind of way. Short of words, but, he had grown to realise that short sentences and a grimace didn't necessarily mean he didn't care. He did, he just had his own way of showing it. "He's not some deadbeat, Mr. Scani is good at what he does." "Mr. Scani is a High Flyer." "Used to be a High Flyer." Urien thought that might have put the conversation to rest, but, he knew it wouldn't. "You really think someone can turn away from that kind of lifestyle?" His dad asked, not even taking the time to turn from the holo-vid he was watching. "Yeah," Urien said as he stared at the same holo-vid, looking past the screen into nothingness. He could hear his father scoff, then Urien looked at him, to watch as he shook his head.
"So you're telling me that he never has any of his old gang members showing up at the shop?" He asked, turning to stare directly into his eyes, with that glare that said he already knew the answer. Urien wanted to lie, he wanted to say no, but, he wasn't a liar; he wouldn't dream of treating someone like a fool, especially not his father. He let out a sigh and turned back to the holo-vid. "He. Well, he has had some people showing up at the shop before. But, only to get some repairs done." "Yeah right." Urien launched himself from the chair and stood for a moment. "It's a job, it's money, it's a skill I could use for the rest of my life. I could start up my own shop if I wanted." "It's a good skill, yes, but there are plenty of chop shops out there, people of a better social standing you could work for. It's trouble, that's all it is. Next, there'll be Peacekeepers at the door." Urien shook his head and walked away, he wasn't prepared to waste another minute having this conversation, he knew for himself what was right and what were unfounded lies; he didn't have to convince anyone of anything; he didn't want to have to fight.
It was a bright summer day, the Jex sun was starting to rise as Urien was getting ready for work. The day had a pinkish glow to it, as was expected from Jex's rose-tinted sun. He had everything he needed to head out, but, he was stalling, not wanting to have another fight; he just wanted to get out of the house and head to work, untroubled by arguments that would go around in circles and clog up his mind. He left the room cautiously, walking into the kitchen. He could have sworn he heard some knocking around, but, he was surprised to see that there was no sign of his father. He must have already left for work. If there was no chance of a fight, he might have been tempted to ask for a lift.
The walkways were clear of almost all life, he passed a handful of people while heading for work, each doing the same thing, giving him the nod one could expect at this hour. The working man's nod The kind of head movement that said, "I know what you're doing, dredging away like the rest of us, good man." It was funny, in the few short weeks, Urien had perfected the nod, and he knew exactly who to give it to; he could spot someone who deserved one and someone who didn't. The slightest amount of a stagger, and you were taken off the nod list, anyone who walked with a swagger, they were also exempt. If someone seemed to be swinging their jaw, or if they had a messy unkempt look about them in general, it was clear that they weren't on their way to work; no, it was more than likely that they were on their way to bed, stumbling back from a friends house, or one of the many all night clubs that dotted the city.
The chop shop was dusty, darkened by the old pre-war brickwork that was still scorched black from the flames of war. He was too young to remember the times, but, he could remember growing up, those days playing beside construction sites, watching old shells of the once proud buildings being leveled, making way for the efforts of millions who crawled out from the underground and back to what should have been their home; it wasn't their home though, it was a ruined old continent, not fit to live in. Nothing like it is now, the city came back swinging and was known as the marvel of Free Space, reclaiming its old title with both hands. Jex was alive once more, it was again the capital planet, the envy of every other, but, there were still glib reminders of the past, dotted all around them. This building was one of them, it wasn't the only one though. The Dead Zone was a much vaster reminder, it served as a border, a border between the new world and the old, from here, it wasn't even that far away. Urien knew Mr. Scani was from there originally. It was where his former gang still remained, not that they wouldn't come to the city, in fact, as far as Urien knew, most of their "work" was conducted in the city. Then like vermin they would scurry back into the tangled mess of steel and disintegrating concrete to hide, threatening to return for some more fun.
"Scani!" Urien jumped from his thoughts as the voice called in, echoing through the walls of the shop. Mr. Scani nearly jumped too by the noise, almost smacking his head as he did. Not that it mattered, Triskens had skull caps. He could probably head butt a concrete wall and stay unharmed. Urien couldn't help but wonder what would break first, the stonework or his skull cap? Snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of Mr. Scani flicking his fingers. "Urien, hello? Stop daydreaming and pack up the tools." With a nod, he got to work, not before looking at who came into the shop. "Yeah, yeah, what is it now? Are you going to take me in, search the shop?" The Trisken asked in a jovial manner, as he came face to face with a couple of Peacekeepers. "No, we just wanted to check in and follow up on a report. Is that your only worker? Urien Raschek?" Mr. Scani turned around and gestured for him to join them. "Yeah, that's me." His boss started to grin as he got to them. "What have you been doing?" Urien could only shake his head in response.
"Seems we had a complaint from I'm assuming, your father. He told us that he wants us to come in and run through the place, make sure it was okay and it was a safe place for his son to be working." Urien shook his head. "He's too overprotective. I'm a fully grown man, not that he cares." One of the Peacekeepers just nodded. "Well, some people can be that way." The man shrugged as he turned to Mr. Scani. "Mind if we take a quick look around?" Urien was surprised by how fast the smile washed away from Mr. Scani's face. "I would rather you didn't, I have work to be doing and I don't like the idea of being accused like this. I would sooner send Urien home if his father doesn't feel comfortable."
"That's not necessary. We'll be quick, it won't take more than a minute." The Peacekeeper said while the other one's face scrunched slightly. "I just don't think that's right, searching my shop on account of what? A random call?" The other Peacekeeper shook her head. "Why are you being so apprehensive?" "Apprehensive? I'm not being apprehensive. I just, err. I don't think having Peacekeepers searching my premises is a good look. Not good for business, I'm running a legitimate operation here, I know I have previous ties with..." The woman raised her hand to shut him up, while she reached for her pistol with the other, unholstering it, she stepped back, which prompted the other Peacekeeper to do the same. "Down, on your knees, hands behind her head." She called out, which quickly jumped Urien to attention, he complied, and shortly after he was on his knees Mr. Scani joined him. "I'll watch them, you do a full sweep." One of them walked around Urien and his boss, while the other stayed in full sight, with her weapon drawn. "This is ridiculous. You have no reason to be doing this. You won't find anything." Mr. Scani let out multiple complaints, one after another, none of it changed the situation, however. "We'll be the judge of that. Find anything, Grankeen?" The woman asked, to which a moment of silence followed. "No, nothing so far, I don't see why he was acting so funny." Mr. Scani raised a hand off his head slowly and shrugged. "See, what did I say." "Keep still!" The woman shouted, which almost made Urien jump out of his skin. "Fine! Don't blow your top." Mr. Scani said with a heavy dose of irritation in his voice.
"Oh, wait. What's this?" Urien could hear the voice of the other Peacekeeper as he mumbled to himself, then some messing around and fumbling could be heard, eventually, there was a light crash as something fell to the ground. "Oh, ho, what's all this then?" The man exclaimed, holding back laughter. "What is it?" "Haze, an entire supply crate of it. How much would you say that's worth Mr. Scani? Street value, just a guesstimation." "It's not mine! I'm, I, It's someone else's, I'm just holding it!" He complained, twisting and turning his words, they almost didn't fall from his mouth, but, he managed to get them out. "Sure, just holding it. Just holding a ton of illegal supplies, for who exactly? Haze is a High Flyer chem, isn't it? Your old buddies make that stuff, don't they? So, what? You're looking after it for them, are you?" Mr. Scani just said nothing, he couldn't, how could he talk his way out of it? Instead of even trying to speak, he just turned to Urien, glaring as his eyes landed on him. He didn't say anything, but, the look in his eyes let him know that he and his father weren't safe. Urien watched as he was restrained, he didn't resist, they had him and his supply crate loaded up within minutes. "Okay kid, well, I guess works over, go home, unwind, and thank your father. You could have gotten caught up with some nasty people if you stuck around here."
"Thank your father." Urien felt sick, all the arguing, the negativity, all the fighting, all for nothing. His father was right the whole time. But, he didn't know the extent of his own actions.
Urien walked in the door, with his head held low, almost afraid of the tirade of gloating that was surely going to come his way. "Well?" He heard his dad ask, without looking from the holo-vid. "Yeah, so, Peacekeepers arrived and, well, they found some stuff, and Mr. Scani was taken away." His father let out one single "Hah." Before looking around to Urien. "What did I tell you? Deadbeat." Urien just shook his head lightly. "I think we could be in trouble, those were High Flyer supplies." "And?" "Well, the stare Mr. Scani gave me, it was, I don't know. I just think we should get out of here, even for a while." His dad just stared at him, shaking his head, before scoffing. "I'm not going to be chased out of my home by some "High Flyer" their kind of scum doesn't scare me. Now come on, sit down and watch some crap with your old man." He said as he patted the couch. Urien walked over to it and sat down, sinking into it, but, he was uncomfortable and tense.
"I'll ask around. Get you a better job, with a better sort, at that. You don't want to be mixed up or be involved with the kind of scummary that lot get up to." Urien could only sit in silence, staring through what they were watching. "You're young, and still have a lot to learn, but when you have kids of your own one day, you'll understand."
That night, Urien couldn't get any sleep. Every single rustle outside, every voice in the distance, and every passing engine overhead had him launched from his bed to look out the window. Afraid of any one of them being a band of thugs coming to exact some revenge.