The planet Dockland was unique in the system in that it was the only place where Civil rule was lenient. This was due to the origin of Dockland; once this sector of the system was colonized, the Civil decided to gather unusable waste and toss it into space. Harvesters had a different idea, though.
Harvesters are the sort of people that reject land living. They dedicate life to the scrapping and hauling of space garbage to be reused in their ingenious machines. Most of them don't run on electricity but rather on an intricate working of gears. No one but the Harvesters know how they are powered, though, even to the point of gravity and atmosphere simulation. The Civil itself can't seem to replicate the effect.
Dockland was the first official homeland of the Harvesters, who took the scraps from settling these worlds and converted them into a working satellite. Tunnels lace the structure, providing as much if not more living and working area within the artifice than upon the surface.
Originally they called their world "7C", but once the Civil laid claim to the territory as part of their planetary system the name was changed to Dockworld and it became the trade center of the sector.
Now, centuries later, Dockland is where the necessary evils are permitted by the Civil to conduct their works within the confines of loosely laid laws. Blind eyes are turned to smuggling rings, drug manufacturers, human traffickers, bounty hunters, guild houses, and all sorts of nefarious activities which make up a necessary part of the System's Economy.
Nestled in the gears, pipes, and tubes which make up Dockland's unique landscape, Richard and I were in Boeman's office where he was getting an eye full.
I'm such a hypocrite, but I won't deny it! In fact, I embrace it. Did I hate the way Boeman was staring blankly at my chest while giving bounty details to Richard? I sure did. But did I reject the extra pay I always seemed to receive as a result of being stared at? Absolutely not.
Say what you will about that making me less 'moral' than your average female hero, but if some stupid boy wants to believe paying me more will influence my feelings for him? That's his fault.
Stare all you want, I thought, just keep talking.
Boeman shook himself out of a haze with a, "What was I saying?"
Before I had the urge to pull out my pistol and burn a hole through Boeman's forehead, Richard restored the flow of the meeting, "You were telling us where the trail to Ralsey went cold."
Ralsey was the bounty of the decade apparently. Every member of the House of Attrition with their ear to the ground will end up hearing this same information, so we wanted to make sure not to miss the one detail that might tilt the bounty in our favor.
"Right," Boeman continued. His teeth were ratchet but it wasn't due to his hygiene. Boeman was a very clean sort of a slum lord. He made sure that his office was in as nice a condition as it could be in a world composed of gears and parts. But no amount of hygienic cleanliness could stop the effects of Essence from rotting his teeth.
He went on, "Ralsey used his fingerprints in a clinic on Pentacle."
Richard scoffed, "What's a wanted fugitive doing checking in with his real ident?"
Boeman grinned, exposing his black and blue teeth to the open air, "Lots of people think he was desperate. Maybe someone clipped him and he needed help. But that's why you're lucky to know me..." Meanwhile, his eyes were still traversing my body.
I let Richard handle it, "He wasn't there for treatment was he?"
"Negative," said Boeman proudly, "I think he was trying to visit someone."
"Trying," Richard cut in.
"He was blipped as soon as he scanned into the clinic," explained Boeman, "Must've known it might happen, he escaped before the Civil showed. But they're mad about it, and that's why they're letting you all in on the chase. And while everyone else is looking for a wounded bounty..."
"We," Richard said to both Boeman and myself, "will be on Pentacle, checking out who he may have been trying to see."
Boeman took his eyes off my chest and transferred them to Richard. "I believe you have your plan of action?"
"I think we do," Richard replied with a nod, "Is there anything else, Boeman?"
Boeman held up a finger and stared at my rack again for a few seconds. I scoffed and shifted my weight to my other leg. Boeman nodded, "There, that's good."
I roll my eyes and begin heading for the doorway, "You know Boeman, you can easily afford to hire a girl to stare at like this all day long."
Boeman called after me, "But it's how uncomfortable you are that makes it so incredible!"
I turned to reply but Richard just covered my mouth and laughed as he picked me up to drag me out. I kicked the whole way. But once we were both outside, I calmed down.
"So," Richard said pleasantly, "Off to Pentacle."
"Freaks," I say judgmentally about the people who live there.
"You'll fit right in," Richard insists. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and draws me in. I act like I hate it but I allow him to do so. "Let's go, kiddo."
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