Pretty Momma & Her Baby (Private for Muzica-chan)

Catherine crouched on the side of the dirt road, her arms wrapped around her knees as she stared blankly at a point in front of her. Her gray shirt that had once been white hung down over her knees, and the hem of it brushed her bare feet. If she had stood up, the shirt would have been long enough to hang down to her mid-thigh. Underneath of the off colored shirt were a pair of worn denim shorts that were getting too small for her.

Around her, the townspeople of Terron5 moved on with their lives, passing by the scrawny 15 year old as if she wasn't there. Even though it was a small planet and everyone knew everyone, Cat and a few others were shunned for liking the same gender as themselves. In her head, Cat thought that it might be better on a bigger planet where no one cared what you did simply because there were too many people.

Raising her head and shoving her chin length hair out of her face, she peered around for her newest friend. He had told her that they would meet here around this time.

Trazin hurried along, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets and his head bowed. In many ways, he resembled a dog that had been beaten badly: he seemed to know just where to step to avoid everyone, but he never looked directly at anyone. In many ways, he was one.

When he was nine years old, he had been taken off the planet. That was what everyone on Terron5 wanted: to get off. The little dirt ball had no opportunities. Those that were poor stayed poor. Those that were rich didn't live there. It was equal to any hell that earthlings had gone through. There was rarely enough food. People starved today on a daily basis. Illness swept through their ranks, thinning them a little more every year. No new technology ever reached them, and it was rumored that they would soon no longer have enough water to keep functioning.

At just nine, he had gotten away from that. There were only a few hundred students in the program that he had been selected for. Even as a child, he had shown such skill with flying that the Alliance wanted him in their ranks. Unfortunately for him, they weren't quite keen on accepting all of him, particularly the part of him that liked other men. When he was caught with another boy, he was sent back, only fourteen years old. Since then, he had been on his own.

Spotting Catherine, he paused in his tracks. She was a pretty girl, and for once, he wished that he could feel something more than adoration for her. He adored her like a sister or a close friend. They hadn't known each other long, and he knew that they were meant to be friends. He just wished that they could be more, for both of their sakes.

Forcing a smile onto his lips, he dropped into a crouch. Then, playfully, he began to click his tongue, gesturing with his fingers for Cat to come closer. It was mocking, but he knew it would make her smile. It did every single time.

Spying Travi, she waited until he crouched down as she knew he would. When he made the clicking noise, she grinned and crawled to him. Rubbing her cheek against his palm, she let out a rough purr. It was unrefined and broken as she had only started trying to purr a few months ago when she had met Travi. He had been the one to start calling her Cat and treating her like one. If her mood was sour, he would dangle pieces of string in front of her face or tickle her stomach in an effort to make her play and smile.

Even though she felt attraction for females only, she couldn't help but admire Travi's features. He was handsome, something she could see easily, and she could feel the small spark of hope that maybe they would end up something more than friends. She knew if they were together, there would be no more fighting and unfair treatment because they would be seen as "normal." It was a vain hope though, and she knew it. They would never be anything more than close friends.

Batting at his face, she shifted to lean against his side. "What are we going to do today?" She questioned. Her golden green eyes stared up at him, bright with curiosity.

Watching the scrawny girl crawl towards him, he watched the way the no-longer-white shirt draped over her body, hiding her ribs only fractionally better than her shirt did. It hadn't been until he was ten that he found out it wasn't normal for people to look like that. He had never seen a fat person until he was thirteen. Now, he knew that it should sicken him, hurt his heart, but all he could do was feel resentful. Those on the Alliance planets lived well. Those on the Terrons went without. They were starved and the children knew no better. It was wrong, but there was nothing to be done.

"Good kitty," he whispered to her, rubbing behind her ears and scratching her head. His nails were short and jagged, unclipped and uncared for. When they had first met, he had taken meticulous care of them and himself. Now, his hair was slowly twisting itself into dread locks, because he couldn't be bothered to even brush it. It was easier to keep it washed that way, and in a world where it was hard to find spare water to wash with, that had to be enough.

Standing up, the young, would-be pilot stretched and admitted, "No clue. We could try to find work, but there are no new ships in port, and I doubt that old man Hidgen is going to keep going out on a limb for the two of us." Shaking his head, he shrugged helplessly. It wasn't like they could keep playing. Sooner or later, they had to eat. Trazin wasn't quite ready to break the law and sell himself for a quick snack.

Rolling onto her back as Travi stretched, she used her hand to block the sun. "Yeah, I know. We are lucky that Hidgen has doen so much for us already," she agreed. Clambering to her feet, she shook her shirt out. Despite dust falling off it, there was no noticeable changes in color. "We could try the docking ports again. Maybe someone will have actually landed here and find it in their hearts to pay a couple of starved children to wash off their precious ship," she suggested, cynical amusement evident in her tone. No one ever landed on their pathetic excuse for a planet.

With a quick spin that had the shirt billowing out, she posed and asked jokingly, "How do I look? Fashionable enough to make it into one of the Alliance fashion shows that we've heard so much about, right? I bet I could knock them all off their feet."

Shaking his head, Trazin told himself that he was being a cynic to think that it was pointless. Leaning as far back as possible, he lifted his hands and fell back into an arch. Flexibility was important on a ship. If you weren't flexible, the rides between planets would become that much more painful. He could still remember the classes and drills he had been forced through. Back when the first met, he had been able to curl into a ball so small that he could hide behind some of the rocks down by the docking station.

"Maybe they will. I guess we had better to find out," Trazi declared, bouncing up and down on his feet. He wasn't as high energy as her, but he tried, tried to keep up. Some times, he came close, but usually, it felt like hollow gestures. He was beat when she spun, the shirt billowing like some of the dresses he had seen on Dalin. Diving at her, he hugged her close and kissed her on the cheek. "You'd knock them dead, pretty lady." Pushing her away, he took off at a dead run, heading for the docking station. His hopes soared like the eagles above him. Maybe, just maybe, they would find something there that suited them.

She took off after him, weaving in and out of people with practiced ease. Travi ran a little faster than her, so soon she lost sight of him except for the occasional flashes of his shirt. It didn't matter though. She knew where the docking ports were. For the past few years, she had basically lived at the docking ports in hopes of some work. The amount of money she made there was never enough to get her more than a few days worth of food if she rationed it. Since she had met Travi, she had taken to working to at least three odd jobs in one day. It was the only way she could afford enough food for both of them during the day.

The dirt beneath her feet changed to metal that would have burned the soles of her feet if she had paused long enough. A layer of dust nearly covered the port though, so she never truly worried about it. Parts of the port were rusted through, leaving gaping holes in the middle of the walkways. The place was empty except for two ships at the far end where there the rust damage wasn't as bad.

Skidding to a halt beside of Travi, she watched the crew members of one of the ships unload what looked like fresh fruit. Eyes lighting up, she turned to Travi excitedly and asked, "Do you think this means we can get fruit instead of bread this evening?"

Jumping from foot to foot on the hot platform, she scanned the crew members until she found the one who she thought was the captain. "Do you want to ask him if he would give us a job or should I?"

The metal of the ports didn't burn nearly as much as it had at one point in his life. In fact, his feet had callous so thick that they were like the pads on a dogs paw. The rises in the metal, once there for traction, now were sharpened by wear and tear and dug into his heels, making them ache in a tired way. Over the past few months, he had gotten used to it though, and if he moved fast enough, he really didn't mind it all that much. Slowing to a halt, he looked at the ships. God, he would have killed to sit in the control room of one of them, even for a minute. His heart ached just at the thought of it and tears stung his eyes. It was wrong to keep a pilot from a plane for so long. He had been born to navigate, not gaze at them with longing written all over his face.

"Fresh fruit costs too much," Trazin told her, wrapping an arm around her to rub her shoulder comfortingly. He knew how much she must have wanted it, every bit as badly as he did, but he knew that he had to say no. Bread would go much farther and fill them more. The fruit was sweet, but it was poison. It would spoil them, and neither of them could afford that. Of course, worrying about it spoiling them was illogical. One meal changed no man, but he felt that jealously guarding himself and Cat was not undo.

He shifted restlessly, trying to keep the burning from reaching through the soles of his feet without much luck. He didn't want to wear himself out jumping around, but without shoes, it was quickly becoming unbearable. His eyes followed the different crew members as he released Cat and slowly moved forward. Spotting the captain, marked by a small metal on his shirt, he watched the man, waiting until he glanced in their direction. The way his eyes lingered on Cat was all he needed to know. Pushing her forward gently, he told her, "Ask him for work. Be specific. Don't take any dishonest work. Back off if he wants more than what we are asking for." The words were robotic, repeated so many times his lips felt numb retracing them.

It wasn't fair that they had to live like this.

"I'll be fine. I know the rules," Cat reassured him, tossing a quick smile over her shoulder before heading towards the captain.

Her posture quickly changed from that of a hyper kid to one that most would have expected from an older woman. Her head came up, shoulders got set back, and she swayed her hips a little more. The shirt that she was wearing cover her figure and worked against her, but with a little shift, it slid off of one of her shoulders in a way that looked natural and accidental. Her hair was tangled, but there wasn't much she could do about that without being obvious. She just hoped that what she had changed would be enough to land her and Trazin a job.

Coming a halt a few feet in front of the man, she smiled up at him. "Welcome to Terron5, sir," she said pleasantly.

He eyed her up and down, the look in his eye staying the same as it had when he had first spotted her. "Thank you, young miss. Though I must say, it doesn't look like this planet has much going for it."

"I don't know. I think you could find a nice view if you looked a little harder," she commented, looking off to the side where a couple of young women were standing. They were obviously trying to become companions since that was one of the only ways off of the rockk that they lived on.

The man looked over them with appreciation, and Cat was happy to notice that when he turned back, he no longer looked at her like she was a piece of meat. "I suppose you are right, little lady. Anything I can help you with?"

"I was wondering if there was any work that my partner and I could do," she said, gesturing behind her at Trazin.

He looked past her to Trazin, looking the boy up and down judgmentally as he asked gruffly, "What all can you do?"

Shrugging, she replied, "I can work on anything mechanical, cook to an extent, give a decent massage, and anything else you can think of. Trazin can do the same along with help move heavier things that I can't. If you have any problems in the cockpit, he is brilliant in there. We can do pretty much anything that you need done."

Letting out a thoughtful hum, he looked over the both of them again before nodding. "The outer rim of the ship needs polished, and a massage for some of my men sounds like a good form of payment for their good work lately."

"We can do it," she said instantly.

"What is your price?" He asked warily, arms folding across his chest.

Realizing he had a tight hold on his wallet, she lower her original price. "Twenty sena cydanc each."

"No way," he said automatically. "Ten sena."

"That isn't even enough to buy us half a loaf of bread for dinner," she protested. "Fifteen or you can polish your own ship."

Grumbling about legal thievery, he pulled out his wallet and handed over fifteen sena. "I will give you the other fifteen after you are done," he compromised.

"That sound fair," she said agreeably. Giving him a bright grin, she twisted to wave Trazin over. She waved goodbye to the captain, thanking him for the work, then met Trazin halfway. Once he was close enough, she said, "I got us two jobs. Polishing the rim of the ship and giving massages to the crew members. Fifteen sena each. He gave me the first fifteen now and says he is going to give us the rest after we are done. Even if he skips out on that part, though I don't plan on letting him, this should be enough to get us dinner tonight."

Trazin knew that she was already aware of everything he was going to say, knew that she would obey all of their guidelines, but he still watched like a hawk. They did not live in a world that was safe, but there were strangers that were even more dangerous. He wasn't much and probably couldn't have saved her, but he never would have turned his back. The idea of watching her get raped was enough to make his stomach twist painfully, and he had to hold himself back. He wanted to chase after her, wrap his arms protectively around her or hover over her shoulder like a body guard. If he did that, at least he would know that he was near enough to help.

Unfortunately, if he did that, it would make them less likely to get work. No one was going to hire a set of kids that were glaring at them. He wouldn't do it, and he didn't expect anyone else to. Knowing that made it even harder not to follow her, wanting to shelter her.

He watched, his ears straining to catch a hint of what they were saying. They were too far, so he took a few steps, not willing to risk their job out of curiosity. He knew that Cat wouldn't screw him over, and that was enough for him. Though they went separate ways every evening and didn't discuss it, they both knew the other was hopelessly lost in this world, and sheltering each other gave them some sort of purpose. She wouldn't risk that, not for a few extra cena. It may have been a lot to risk on faith, but faith was all he had left.

Seeing Cat signal him, he took off at a run. His feet were killing him. Standing still so long had left them feeling crisp, and he wondered if there would be burns on his callouses. It was fortunate that he couldn't feel it, but that meant he had to be more observant. Infection was a death sentence. Even those with families died from infection. He had no family, and if he saw the telltale signs of green pus on his feet, he knew that he would have to disappear. Burdening others with his own weakness was not an option. He had gotten himself kicked out of pilot school. He had gotten himself disowned by his family. He had gotten himself pushed out of every gang of street rats. If he got infected, it would be his own fault, and just as he had always done, he would take care of it himself.

The report on the deal made him beam. Being near a ship, even if it was just to polish it, was addictive to him. Grinning, he nodded quickly and assured her, "You can count of me to help you muscle the rest out." Winking, he glanced at the crew men, busy unloading everything that had been brought with them. Frowning slightly, he sigh and declared, "I hate to say it, but I'll get a start with the polishing and you can do the massages. If any of them would prefer a guy to rub them down, tell them that it will take me half an hour to get around to them, okay?" His eyes were haunted in a way that spoke of the memories, the longing to touch another man, but the fear of the results.

Shaking it off, he headed towards the ship, gathering what he needed to work with along the way. With skill that came from practice, he carefully scaled it, reaching the rim easily. Graceful, but quick, he began to work. His heart sang for the work, loving every minute of it. He was a pilot, but he loved the ships almost as much as the sky.

Pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, she cast him a sympathetic look. "I'll ask around for you," she promised, already knowing to be discreet about how she asked. It would seriously suck for Trazin to get beat up on one of their first jobs working with a ship in a long time. She had been on the receiving end on that prejudice before and wouldn't wish it upon anyone. She knew he would be happy whether he was stuck with just the ship or not. Despite him wanting to touch another man, she knew that Trazin love dealing with ships just as much.

She stepped away from Trazin and started towards the working men. A few of them looked up as she came close, an odd look of expectancy in their eyes. She almost curled her lip in disgust when she realized what they were expecting, but stopped herself. Judging them was something that she knew she shouldn't do. She didn't know how long these men had been traveling and gone without the company of a female. Still, she wanted to shy away when some of them stood up fully and looked her up and down with more blantancy than the captain had.

Forcing a smile, she said, "Good news, boys. Your captain has hired me to give you massages as a reward for your excellent work as of late." Most of the men let out cheers, obviously sore from their journey. None of them stood out to her looking as though they would prefer Trazin over her. It made her want to sigh in sadness for her friend, but she kept the grin on her face as she settled onto one of the boxes set out. It saved her feet from being burnt and allowed the men to work without her feeling like she was in their way.

Nearly half an hour later, she made her way to the side of the ship that Trazin was currently working on. He had gotten quite a bit of the ship done already, leaving hardly anything for her to do. Pouting, she called up to him, "Dude, are you going to let me spend some time with the ship, or are you going to hog it all?" Easily climbing up to be beside her friend, she tossed him a carefree grin before settling back into a pout.

Rolling his eyes, he playfully jabbed at her. Of course he was going to play it off as a joke, but in reality, he was lonely. It was hard not to be, especially when he had nothing to keep him warm at night. While he had no intentions of perving on a complete stranger, he wouldn't mind to at least feel another heartbeat beneath his hands. Something as simple as physical affection was genuinely viewed as sinful on this planet. He couldn't even embrace his brother in public.

"You don't have a brother," he reminded himself, and suddenly all thoughts of other men disappeared. After all, it was men that had torn such a rift in his life. If he hadn't wanted, hadn't dreamed, hadn't felt, he would still have something.

The work was quick and easy. Though he hadn't done it for a long time, his body was used to the labor, falling into the rhythm of it. If someone could be born for the sky, it was him. Trazin sincerely believed that if he stepped onto a boat and never touched solid ground again, he would be just as happy. That godawful loneliness that lurked in the nights wouldn't spring upon him at random. Instead, he would be free to fly forever, no attachments, no dirty emotions, just the blissful, all-consuming love of the sky. Just the thought was enough to set his heart to flying.

It came crashing back to reality at the call of a voice. Looking over the edge, he spotted Cat. "You should have moved faster, Pretty Lady," he called down to Cat. So far, Pretty Lady was the nickname that had fit her best, but he wanted, so very badly, to call her something else. There was a nickname that was meant for her. He just had to find it. Tossing a rag onto her pouting face, he taunted, "Get to work, wench. You better earn your keep unless you want to dance to entertain the men folk." There was something sexist in his remark, but it wasn't derogatory towards her. He was mocking his own gender. Perhaps it was out of bitterness and loneliness, but neither showed as he smiled with her. After all, Cat was almost as good as his co-pilot in these hostile skies.

Finished with the work finally, he straightened and stretched, his slender body doubling over backwards. His hands landed on the very edge of the rim. For a moment, he held it, then he switched the placement of his hands to swing down to the port. Holding his arms up, he called to Cat, "Jump and I'll see if I can catch you!" There was a nasty little grin on his face that said clearly he planned on either dropping her or pretending to only to save her.

The remark Trazin tossed her way made her flinch internally, though she didn't show it. She had no interest in men and having them lust after her body only held a thrill if she called attention to herself on purpose. Flirting was something she did freely and effortlessly, drawing attention from both genders and flourishing under the attention. It was only females that she spent the night with though, and that it what had gotten her into more trouble than she wanted to remember. Early on, she had learned to fight dirty just to survive or keep her food.

"I would be the best damn thing these heathens have ever seen," she joked, shoving her tangled hair back. Lack of care had it greasy and twisting into painful knots. Over the past few days, she had been entertaining the idea of cutting her short enough that it wouldn't require any care.

She watched Trazin bend over backwards, a little envious of it. She was flexible enough, able to easily place both feet behind her head if she wanted, yet she couldn't quite double over like Trazin could. Being flexible had saved her life a few times, and probably Trazin's too, allowing her to squeeze into smaller spaces than someone her size usually could. She smirked when Trazin went over the edge and called up to her with an evil smile.

He was obviously planning on dropping her, so she tossed the rag over her shoulder with the smirk still in place. Launching herself over the edge, she made sure that she had jumped far enough over that she would land on her and miss Trazin completely. Shock waves of pain rolled through her joints upon impact, and she rolled a few times to dissipate it. Springing to her feet with barely a hesistation, mainly because the port was still hot enough to burn if you stayed still long enough, she raced back to Trazin and flung her arms around his neck.

"Trazi, I love you!" She cried, pressing her face into his neck when tears pricked at her eyes abruptly and for no apparent reason. Sucking in a breath and blowing it out against Trazin's collarbone, she pulled away but kept her arms around his neck as she suggested, "Should we go and collect our payment now?"

Trazin was a little disappointed when she leapt clear, but it barely lasted as he spun. Worry flooded him. A broken bone meant death for them. There was no way that he could take care of himself and her if she was crippled. Even if it healed properly, he would run himself to death trying to keep her alive. Then, she would be stuck caring for him. The cycle was a vicious, destructive one that would continue forever, only ending in death or betrayal. The mere idea of it made him feel physically ill, but as he felt her sun-heated body press against his and her iron-rope arms wrap around his neck, he let it go with ease. No point about worrying about things that weren't immediate. He would find what he was eating the next day tomorrow.

Pressing his face into the dark mass of greasy, tangled curls, Trazin drew in a breath. She stank. They both did. It was the familiar stink of hard work, too much sun, and not enough water. The planet never had enough water, and rain was a rarity. Some part of him was logical enough to inform him that if it wasn't so dry, they would surely get sick more easily, but he couldn't help dreaming of washing the dirt from his skin in a cool rain. Silently, he promised himself, he would get off of this planet and travel to one where he could do just that.

"I love you too, Kitty Cat," he told her. As she drew away, he released her, booping her nose gently. "I thought you'd never suggest it." His feet were already burning painfully against the metal, and he was quick to grab her hand and haul her along. They didn't need the impress anymore. They had enough money for today and tomorrow, possibly the next if they were careful. This captain would offer them no more, so there was no point in trying.

The man was speaking with his first mate. Out of respect, Trazin waited, dancing from one foot to the next to protect them against the heat. Being on the naturally heat resistant surface of the ship had soothed his sore feet. Now he suffered for that short relief. Luckily, the captain was not a cruel one, and after a moment, he broke off. With an appreciative look at his ship, he remarked, "You two have a good business. Very effective. Make good money?"

"We get by, but nothing to spare," Trazin answered, sticking his hand out pointedly.

The captain chuckled at that, fishing out his wallet. Nodding, he remarked, "You both seem to know ships. Saw your little flip. You were trained, weren't you?"

Trazin waited until the money was in hand before answering, "Alliance. Got kicked out. She a mechanic." His voice was tight, telling the captain to get to the point. He wasn't going to betray anything to a stranger.

Unfortunately, that was all he wanted of them. Almost as if they were now invisible, he went back to talking to his first captain. It was a disappointment, but Trazin was relieved. At least they weren't going to meet trouble getting their payment.

Cat bounced impatiently from foot to foot as they waited and as Trazin talked to the captain. It felt like forever before they were finally handed their money and dismissed, though she knew logically that it was only a few minutes. The heat seemed to get worse as the day wore on, making it ever harder to stay in one place for more than a few seconds. Thankfully, Trazin was short and blunt with the captain, efficiently getting them the money quickly. Grabbing his hand, she tugged him towards the exit.

The change from metal to dirt was gratefully soothing. A few yards from the port, she stopped just to bury her stinging feet deep into the dirt, seeking out the cooler parts that were farther down. Leaning against Trazin as she did, she commented, "Someday, we will have shoes and won't have to dance around like retarded monkeys."

Slipping her hand into Trazin's free hand, she said mockingly, "So, honey, when can this poor wench have her money? Or must I dance until my feet bleed?" This drew looks from the few people around, but she paid no heed to them.

"We'll have eight pairs each for every occasion, and we'll parade around in jews and gowns," Trazin murmured, his voice soft with relief as he buried his toes as well. The cool barely touched he burns that felt, but some of that burn had surely soaked into the soul. Just as the sun had soaked into the skin of his family, its pain had soaked into the soul of his feet. That meant the pain as a whole wasn't as severe, but it never faded, never went away.

His words had been mocking, but not in a cruel way. In the same way that he mocked himself for failing at everything, he mocked her for dreaming. It wasn't vicious. It was just a part of life and living. They were both all too used to it by now. Just as they shared the cynical voice, they could be that voice for each other.

Not answering her, he shoved the money into her pocket rather than into his own. With a gentle tug, he started her forward. They would have to walk a mile to the nearest market. However, prices there were always the highest. If they started walking now, by the time dark came they could reach the cheap market. It was a fewest towns over. Everything would be closed, but they'd be able to shop in the morning. One more night hungry made no difference to him.

She could hear the bitter mocking in his voice, but shrugged it off as if it wasn't there. For years, she had been answering everyone and herself with that same tone, so Trazin speaking to her like that didn't bother her. If anything, it let her know that he shared her view on how pathetic they were. They were a couple of gay teenagers that could barely afford bread every other night and hadn't bathed in who knew how long.

When he tugged her forward, she let out a sigh, knowing that they wouldn't make it to the market before everything closed. Of course, a night of hunger was worth it if they could stretch the money out into three days. It meant that in four days, they would have to search for work again or find someone to steal some food from. She hated stealing. It made her feel lower than normal and the urge to scrub herself peaked until she was scratching at her skin. Once, she had nearly draw blood before she remembered the risk of infection and forced herself to stop.

They reached the market at the time he had predicted. The shops were all closing down, each worker caught up in his respective duty with no attention for those beyond themselves. There was something frightened and hurried about the way they acted, as if they were afraid of what would happen if they paid even the slightest attention to anything else. Of course, there were so many thieves they were probably afraid of being robbed if they looked away for even a second. Trazin knew that if he were a merchant, he would be. Then again, he would rather be on the streets than a shop owner. There were too many risks and too much interaction with Officials for his taste.

"Looks like we're late, Kitty Cat. Do you wanna curl up together or do you have places to be?" he asked, his voice cheerful, but there was something disheartened about him. Honestly, he wanted her to walk away, to leave him be. It was too much work to keep up his smile at night. At night, all he wanted was a few moments to stew in the turmoil in his heart before letting his eyes close, not sure if he should hope that they never open again or not.

Nodding to her decision, he glanced around the street. It had been closing when they walked into town, but it was close now. There wasn't another soul in sight anywhere. They wouldn't make their reappearance until dawn. Then early morning works would scurry to their positions, each trying to get their wares out first to help them No one had the money buy what they needed, but somehow, they would scratch up the money to keep each other in business. Unfortunately, each year, the taxes from the Alliance drove them closer to collapsing.

Cat glanced around at the closing stores, unable to stop the disappointment. A small part of her had been hoping that they might have gotten there a little earlier than thought, and they would be able to buy bread. It was a vain hope, and she knew it. She contemplated asking one of the store owners for food or a place to sleep at least, but the concentrated fixation that all of them held on their faces told her that it would be useless.

She gave Trazin a long look at his question before shrugging and saying, "I actually wanted to check out a place really quick. I'l catch up with you tomorrow morning. Are we meeting here?" At his nod, she hummed and set off down the street. She didn't have a place to be in particular, but figured it wouldn't hurt to have a look around the town.

The farther she got from Trazin, the worse the town became. The houses were rundown and had so many holes in them, she doubted that they could be called a building anymore. Through the holes, she could see shadowy figures moving around and knew that she would soon be sharing one of the broken houses with those figures. If she was lucky, she wouldn't end up with a group of men. Even with the knowledge that she could probably outrun any of them, she was still wary. If she got caught, it wouldn't end well for anyone, mainly her.

Ducking into one of the better looking houses, she was relieved to find what looked like a family. The man, who was huddled in a corner with a woman and a little boy, glared at her. His posture was defensive, and Cat couldn't bothered to be angry at him for it. Raising her hands to show that they were empty, she crouched down a couple of feet from the doorway. "I'm going to sleep in that corner," she said peacefully, pointing to the corner farthest away from the family. It was near the window, but it definitely wasn't one of the worst places she had been forced to sleep in.

Once the family had settled back down and she was curled up comfortably, she muttered a quick, mocking prayer to gods that she didn't believe in that Trazin would alright, if only for the one night. It was something she had been doing since a few weeks since meeting Trazin, and she couldn't remember when it had become a part of her nightly routine.

Trazin murmured a soft prayer as he slipped down one of the alleys. There wasn't much protection from the sand and wind in this world, but at least he would be okay as long as the wind continued on its natural path. The wind gods of this world were often testy though, so he prayed to them with all of his heart, begging them for one night of peace. He had nothing to offer them except his undying gratitude for each night they let him live, and he told them so in a voice that never grew louder than a whisper, even when tears dotted his eyes with desperation.

He was so tired, so very tired. Working in the burning sun with nothing to fuel his body and then walking miles left him in a state of utter weakness. Beneath him his legs shook, protesting each step, until they finally gave out. Falling was sudden, so much so that he couldn't catch himself. For a moment, he lay face down in the sand, not sure if he should bother getting up. It took him a moment to accept it wasn't death upon him. With a groan, he sat up and slouched against the wall. He had gone far enough. Drawing the stained clothing around him, he huddled inside of himself. There was no warmth from the ground, very little protection from the wind, and sand creeping into his body every way possible. This would be no less pleasant than countless nights before.

"If you take me before I wake, please let Cat find me so she can get the money," Trazin pleaded as he finally finished his prayers. Then, his head dropped forward onto his knees. His arms were wrapped tightly around his legs. His chest was kept warm that way, but not much else. Before long, he was shivering, but exhaustion won and he escaped.

In the morning, it was the weary wakefulness, not death that found him. He was no better rested, but at least he could stand again. Stiffly, he lurched out onto the street. Stretching, he was agonized by how stiff he was. Looking around, he gave himself to the count of five and then pushed all emotion away except happiness: he had lived to see another beautiful day. With that kept firmly in mind, he looked around. It didn't take long to spot a bakery, open for business.

Entering, he made an inquiry and all sorts of goods were paraded in front of him. It was tempting to buy a tart. He may never have the money for it again. Instead, he bought the oldest bread they had. The shop owner looked sympathetic and tossed in two stale cookies as well. Trazin paid and then returned to the streets, his purchase held close to his chest. He would sooner die than give up this feast. After getting his bearings, he started walking, looking for Cat. He hoped that she had thought to buy water. Then they would both be able to eat and drink.

The sound of a child crying brought Cat out of the restless slumber she had been in. Opening one eye, she saw the mother trying to quiet the child. The father was missing. Briefly, she wondered if the father had been killed sometime while she had been sleeping. It was a high possibility. Right as she had the thought, the father slipped in and made his way over to the crying child. The woman sent him a grateful look when he took the kid from her, and the kid stopped crying almost instantly.

Cat felt a pang of lonlieness while watching them, thinking of her own mother and father that had kicked her out because they couldn't afford to feed her. They hadn't come out and said that though. No, they had sent her to the market with enough money to buy bread fo the family, and when she had come back, the door way locked. For nearly an entire day, she waited in front of the door to her home, knocking occasionally and waiting from them to let her back in. She had only moved because a strange man had come up to her and began talking to her, then tried to grab her.

Shaking her head like it could get rid of the memories from when she was thirteen, she slowly uncurled herself. Her muscles cramped in protest, making her wince and freeze up every few seconds. The family in the corner ignored her except to send her wary looked every few seconds. It was just as well. She didn't want to go through the awkwardness of saying anything or even acknowledging them. She could only hope that the family had enough food to live for another day.

The morning air was pleasantly cool in the shade compared to the temperature it reached around noon. Breathing in a lungful, she stretched again before heading towards the place her and Trazin had separated. As she passed a merchant that was selling water, she thought about whether Trazin had brought anything to drink yesterday or not. Veering towards it, she bought the cheapest. The thought of buying enough water to at least wash her hair flashed through her mind and filled her with longing. The pitying look the merchant gave her along with the extra bottle of water told her that the longing was written all over her face.

"Thank you," she murmured to the merchant for the extra water.

It had cost her three cena, leaving her with twelve cena to get through the next two or three days. Hopefully, Trazin would buy them some bread for today. She looked around for her friend as she walked, her water held protectively against her chest. On this planet, even water was stolen and hoarded as if it was gold. Spying Trazin walking towards her, she shifted the water into one arm and raised the other to wave at him. "Trazi!" She called out, running the last bit of distance between them. "I got us water," she said, holding out what was in her arms like a little kid and was waiting for approval.

There were ten cena left in his pocket. Some would view that as robbery for five loaves of stale bread and charity cookies, but it wasn't, not here. The merchants could charge anything that they wanted to. There were miles between most markets, many miles that most could not afford to walk. The dishonest working man is who set the quota and standard of how much was charged. As long as they could pay for the basics, it wasn't too much. Three cena for one loaf of fresh bread was the average. Occasionally it would be more, but it was never less than that. A cena a loaf for stale bread was a great deal.

Of course, with so much bread, he could afford to eat well today and tomorrow. Maybe they would be able to buy the fruit that Cat had wanted or a tiny bit of meat. Either would be very rich, might even make them sick, but it would be a rare and good treat. Being able to get vitamins that their bodies were desperate for almost sounded too good to be true. They would have to ration the bread harshly to be able to enjoy the luxury of real food, but that would be fine. A bite of bread was better than the starvation they normally enjoyed.

Hearing a shout, he cringed, not recognizing the voice for a second. When he did, he grinned and waved, one arm still wrapped tightly around the bread. Glaring around defensively, he pushed the water towards her chest, silently telling her to guard it. Despite that, there was a smile in his eyes. Looking at her, he answered, "Good pick. I got the bread this time." Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he smiled at her before adding, "One would think our brains are linked."

Pulling her along gently, he headed for the edge of town. Trazin knew he'd not be comfortable enough to eat where other people were. They were all too likely to steal his meal. If he lost this, he had no idea what he would have left. Every time, it was like that: living for what they had, not believing that they'll ever have more. It meant they were more possessive and controlling of their goods. Any food was all the food they had. They had to protect it or it would be their fault when it was lost. There was no one in the world to be blamed, so they had to take care of themselves first.

Clutching the water back to her chest, she let Trazin pull her along. "Everyone knows that you have the brains while I have the beauty," she said cheekily, beaming up at him. Soon, they would be able to eat in peace and possibly even wash out their hair. The thought made her bounce in excitement. She couldn't wait to tell Trazin that she had extra water. She hoped it would help cheer him and get rid of some of that sadness that seemed to hang around him since yesterday.

When they reached the outskirts of town where no one came, she plopped down on the sand with her back against a wall of a building that wasn't there anymore. The wall and an archway were the only things that still stood. She handed a bottle over to Trazin then gulped down a few quick mouthfuls. Letting out a sigh of relief as the water washed away the dryness and grit from her mouth, she sent Trazin another grin.

"Guess what," she teased. "I'm pretty sure we have enough water here to at least wash our skin or our hair. I don't think there is enough to do both, but at least some part of us will be clean."

The outskirts of town made Trazin more edgy than the bustling market, though he tried to not let it show. With the two of them together, it was safe, much safer than anywhere else. There were bits and fragments of houses, destroyed by time and the winds, but not much else. Any movement would ring like a gunshot, announcing a stranger's presence before there was any danger from them. There was no sense in being uncomfortable. He just was. Something about the forgotten buildings, dwellings that may have been homes, once upon a time, set him on edge.

Trazin accepted the water with gratitude. Holding out a loaf of stale bread for her, he sipped slowly. He knew that chugging it could make him sick, and the idea of spewing this meager offering seemed down right evil. Once the relief of water had washed through his system, he began to chew on the bread, only to freeze at Cat's words. His eyes widened and his mouth gaped, utterly shocked. Did she really mean it? Seeing the amount, he could see that she was right.

"You know, it would be wiser to save it. We don't know when the next ship is coming," he remarked, his tone tentatively. It was obvious in his amethyst eyes that he wanted to say yes, to scrub his skin clean, but he hadn't survived this long just to die because he couldn't take another day's filth.

Grinning at the shock on his face, she nodded to encourage him. It had been so long since she had been able to even think about washing her skin that simply waiting for Trazin's opinion was nearly painful. Like she knew he would, Trazin spouted words of logic that he didn't actually mean. "C'mon, Trazi. Just one bottle between the two of us to take some of this filth off," she coaxed, able to see the longing in her friend's eyes. There was the obvious beginnings of a pout on her face. It was only around Trazin that she let herself act this childish.

"Besides, I can always find other work if another ship doesn't come anytime soon," she added, glancing at the ground and wondering if Trazin knew she was talking about selling her body. After all, what were a couple of nights in distress compared to plenty to eat and drink, plus wash themselves? There was also thievery, a quick and simply solution, but not one she was willing to do if she could help it.

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