I must've been wandering out there for what, an hour, two hours? Jesus, did I actually travel two hours into the desert completely drunk? Either that, or I just took a wrong turn somewhere along the way. No sane person would have followed me this far out. Not counting the corpse back there, he was obviously not prepared to venture off into one of the hottest climates known to Humankind.

The real question was, however, how the hell was I still standing on my own two feet? If you didn't already know, I was going through the wrath of a hangover, they didn't just disappear in a snap, at least not naturally. Add that with the fact I'd been wandering the desert for hours with barely a speck of hydration I was already under the influence of heatstroke. So theoretically, I should've been roasting like a dizzied fried egg on the ground twenty minutes ago.

Or maybe there was just a delay. My legs had already been considering retirement, and my motivation had pretty much pissed off home. I could take a break, couldn't I? Just cross over one more dune, and I could sit down. Perhaps that might've upped my motional motivation a bit.

I dropped onto the scorched soil after a minute, panted a bit, and took off my shirt, stinking up every molecule within a three metre radius. I sniffed my armpits, yeah, deodorant was a top priority. Water could wait. That definitely wasn't just from the sweat from today, I could tell. No, this was building up for days, possibly even weeks. I could go on to kill a man whilst intoxicated but couldn't be arsed to take at least one shower. Or lose a bit of weight, it looked like I put on a couple stone.

I sighed, before noticing a shoddy tattoo located on my lower stomach. I bent my neck down, staring at the upside down imprint of... a city? No, a ship. A supposedly stylish one too. Painted in a sleek black, sharply curving around the sides of the hull, forming some sort of double-bladed shape. There was a bit of writing under it, but it was in the same alphabet as the corpse's ShitPad Pro back there. Was this a group emblem? Was I part of a criminal organisation? Terrorist even?

Maybe I made some new friends out here. Or maybe I quit them and they had been on my arse ever since, which would explain the corpse back there. The possibilities were endless at this point, and that terrified me. Like, how couldn't it? Well, on the burning bright side, I may not live to see the worst of them. Grim to think about, obviously. But I wasn't drunk anymore, and didn't plan to repeat it, so how could I possibly fight sober? Combat wasn't a thing I was used to, I was just some shitty journalist from Birmingham, not the dark knight.

Actually, what else did I have on me? I patted around my pockets again, picking out a... credit card. An actual physical credit card, coloured in a dull gold and titled 'American Express'. What the hell was I supposed to do with this?! Everything was digital now, it might as well have been used to cut a cocaine line or something.

Well, I might as well have kept it. Could've been worth something after four-hundred years. I was honestly surprised about how good its condition was. It would probably have been worth a couple grand if I sold it online. Maybe the weirdos over on that Auctionopolis website might've paid for more.

I could've fiddled with a few more things, just to pass the time. I picked out the gun from my pocket. I hadn't really held a gun before, at least one that worked, it wasn't like Westminster bothered to change our gun laws. My only experience with them was from watching films on the holovision and grinding those virtual-mind games when I was younger. It was heavier than I expected, wasn't exactly comfortable to use either. I aimed it, trying to position my fingers around which way to hold it. Usually, it should've been simple, but the weird way this grip was designed felt like I was shaking hands with a deformed tree.

That didn't seem right.

Not that.

Now that was just masochism.

This was... close?

Ah perf-

The gun went off, the force of it almost shoving me onto the planet's grill. Bloody hell, I knew they were loud but not loud enough to bleed my eardrums out. I barely even stroked the trigger, was it a hair or something?! It was definitely best if I didn't keep that thing in my pocket, unless I wanted to give myself a messy vasectomy.

The second the ringing in my ears died down, I sighed immediately. Why did I ever go to that party in the first place? I barely remembered what was so important about it that me and my friends, whichever they were, went all the way down to London for it. Birthday? No, definitely not. Bachelor party? Can't be, I didn't know of any friends down south who were getting married. My sister's uni graduation wasn't for another couple years... years, how come that word was itching on the tip of my tongue?

All of a sudden, a loud rumble popped through the atmosphere from above. I tilted my head up, widening my eyes. There was a starship, miles above in the sky, descending straight to the right of the sun. And where there was a starship, there was a starport. Maybe even a whole city!

I took an assumption which direction the ship was going, sprung onto my feet, and began to make my way. It was just a little further. It couldn't be that far now, could it?

Half an hour had already passed, and I ended up in the same state as before: dragging my legs over an empty dune with no sign of civilisation in sight. The starship had already disappeared in a blink, so my sense of direction buggered off this time round. Yet after fumbling around for a bit, faint chatters began to tap on my eardrums. I moved around a bit more, having my ears triangulate the source. This had to have been it, civilisation at last?

I then took a run over one of the dunes, staring throughout the horizon. And I fixated my sight on what was probably a town. Probably. As from where I was standing, all I could see was the skeleton of a massive beast entrenched into the sand, like an overgrown, rotted Christmas turkey. Within danced multiple lights flashing through the gaps between the ribcage, even a large one popping out of the skeleton's eye socket. So it was easy to assume I found civilisation, or at least some form of it.

Maybe that was a mirage - my brain deciding to fuck with me, because why the hell not? Still, I might as well have taken this chance. I was sick of dawdling around the desert.

Without hesitation, I legged it down the dune, almost wanting to smile. I passed a few small desert plants and makeshift solar panels, slowing down as what seemed to be a lorry hauling a large amount of cargo drove right by me. I then stopped as I finally arrived at one of the entrances, leaning on one of the massive ribs, before wiping my shirt on my drenched forehead.

I peered ahead. It wasn't exactly the nicest of places to look at. Infrastructure was built out of a weird blend of sandstone and scrap metals, covering almost the entirety of the ribcage, with even some buildings hanging from above. Loose and exposed wires also stretched into a chaotic system around the remainder of the skeleton, sometimes wrapping around the pipes extending from the ground. With the dancing lights I saw earlier sourcing from third-hand lightbulbs and cheap candles.

I regained my breath, and expended what little energy I had on me to make my way through the town. When living in a place that made Slough look like a paradise, alcohol had to have been a popular beverage here, so there had to be a bar or pub somewhere.

There was a large, crowded market I stumbled by, offering a variety of exotic wares, from clothing, furniture, mountable animals, sharp weaponry to even... people. But my mind suddenly drifted onto the steaming hot street food; ranging between grilled, native rodents alongside some sort of herbal soup. It didn't matter if it was fresh, though. To anyone who had even just one nerve in their nose, the food might as well have been ripped out of a school toilet. There wasn't any water, unfortunately. And the drinks they sold probably would've really wanted to scrap with my biology. Still, I continued looking for a bar. The locals didn't speak English either, so no point bothering with them for directions.

Speaking of the locals, while I gained a few disgusted stares from them, they still kept to themselves. They weren't Human, I could tell you that. They had a form of patterned cracks on their foreheads, and that golden aura around their eyes seemed almost like a prized cosmetic I'd see on something like Bargain Hunt. Maybe the disgusted looks was from some sort of rivalry with them? It wasn't anything new for Humans to wage deadly wars against alien empires. Only thing is, those wars were blasted 24/7 throughout your day-to-day life. These people? Either I was drunk long enough to miss the news, or they were just a bunch of xenophobic twats.

It wasn't all disgusted, however. A few market vendors took my whole racial status to promote their products. To which I tiredly responded, "You mind pissing off?" None of them really understood me, but the tone was enough to keep them away.

The only business I did bother with here was the bar, another minute without a drink, I thought I'd shrivel up like a raisin. It was quite easy to identify, mainly because of the locals leaving the building absolutely hammered. I managed to dodge a couple of the singing nutters and entered inside.

It was about half as crowded as the market, but still sizeable enough for any drunk scrap to do some significant damage. The lighting wasn't any better inside too, and the distorted music playing on the jukebox (or whatever the equivalent was) at the back of the room wasn't helping anyone out. Seriously, it made that hammered lot outside sound like Freddy Mercury. Again, I gained some weird looks. Not disgusted this time, more like an 'Oh God, he's back again' kind of look.

I ignored the terrible music and the strange looks, gave into my fatigue, and collapsed by the bar, very gently placing the gun on the counter. The bartender, an orange-plated Android, came up to me, and greeted cheerfully. Thankfully in English. "Welcome back to our fine establi—"

"Water," I blurted out.

"Pardon, friend?"

I thought this was an Android, was their hearing damaged or something? "I. Need. Water."

The Android took a jug of water, and poured me a large pint. Without hesitation I chugged it down my throat, eliminating every dry patch to have ever infected my taste-buds.

"Oh fuck, that's so much better," I remarked, absolutely refreshed.

"How was your trip in the desert, friend?" Christ, was he on drugs or something? I'd honestly never met an Android as enthusiastic as this in a bar like this, usually, those lot were suited for children's birthday parties.

I looked back up at the Android, noticing the label 'Comfort-Bot' on their chest. That certainly explained it. Still, the fact it was written in English comforted me a bit, maybe I wasn't too far off from my own kind.

I then responded, "You knew about that?"

"Of course I did, friend."

"Please stop calling me friend."

"Just being nice." Nice or not, it was creepy. "Anyways, you were here just yesterday."

"Was I?" Maybe this was the place I got the alcohol from, he did hear them say 'welcome back' didn't he? Perhaps the Android had some useful information for me.

"How much do you remember?"

"Piss-all, apparently."

"How about the last thing you remember?"

They refilled the pint, which allowed me to think more clearly. "I was... on a starship? Yeah, a starship. Fighting this... nope, never mind. All I know is that I got drunk, and left Earth for some reason." I sighed.

"Earth? Wow, okay. Was not expecting that." Christ, I must've been really far out.

"What exactly happened yesterday?"

"You came in quite drunk."

Yeah, I figured that. "Was I alone, though?"

"I didn't see anybody with you, no. At least for about ten minutes."

"What happened then?"

"Well, you were have a whale of a time with a couple of our valuable customers here, until this man, pretty sure he was Human, entered. He didn't look too polite and was wearing some strange military clothing." That must've been the corpse back there. "Apparently, he was looking for you."

"Any idea why?"

"I'm afraid I haven't got a clue. I didn't have whatever language he was speaking in my files. It was a kind of creole or something, I'm guessing."

It probably wasn't a Human language either. The writing on the corpse's ShitPad Pro looked like if Thai and Mandarin was mixed in an unflushed toilet right before someone took another dump on it. Actually, maybe it was, they said it might've been a kind of creole.

The Android continued, "So then he got into a bit of a rumble with you, to which you ran off into the desert. And he was stupid enough to chase after you."

"Was that it?"

"Only saying what I saw."

"Thanks for letting me know, I guess." I took another sip of the pint.

"Keyto!" A pompous voice boomed from behind the bar. "Iho omaqee!"

"I'll be back in a bit." The Android, whose name he assumed was Keyto, took some steaming food from the opening behind him, and left for a minute.

My mind went mostly blank for a bit, just focusing on finishing off his drink. By the time Keyto returned, I decided to pop up another question. "So... where exactly am I?"

"Welcome to the biggest backwater this side of the system." Very helpful.

"Okay, does the 'biggest backwater' have a name?"

"Town's called Ta'Shiala. It's within Loreqi territory." They gestured their chin to the customers. "They're all Loreqi if you're wondering. I wouldn't recommend socialising with them given your whole... they basically aren't fond of your kind." I really didn't plan to, the disgusted looks already put me off. "So, this whole town's a huge hotspot for gangs, mafias, slave-traders, mercenaries, drug dealers, if it's illegal, it's an abundance here." Already figured that one out. "The planet you're on's called Sa'Ikarna, the Pa'Yurq System."

"Where's the nearest Human system?"

"Oh, it's just a few light-years from here. There's a shipyard not too far down s-"

"Keyto!" The same pompous voice boomed again. "Iho temeqee!"

"I'm sorry about this." Keyto took another plate of hot food from behind, and left the bar.

Down south, they were going to say. That shouldn't be much of a problem. I could probably have hitched a ride from somewhere. Probably rent out one of the mountable creatures I saw back there. No, I didn't have any money did I? I didn't have his phone on him either, and all my cash was in the cloud. I guessed I could have used the credit card, maybe exchange it if they didn't have a scanner. It was a rubbish town, but maybe they had a pawn shop or a certain merchant I could have sold it to.

"Is it okay if I sit here?" A rough voice, weirdly accented, came from behind.

I peered to the source of it, finding an old man, one of the locals, quite scruffed affer a long day of work, standing behind him.

"You do speak English, yes?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah, yeah, do what you want," I responded casually. Wait, didn't Keyto just advise against socialising with these people? Why was this guy going to sit right next to me?

The old man sat down beside me, letting out a strained grunt. "Wahrei o tchang. I am getting old," he chuckled. "Those pipes, they are like babies. Always hungry, always cranky."

"You mean the pipes sticking out of the ground, right?" The old man must've been one of the maintenance guys. Or maybe that was his disguise.

"It is where we get our water from. Huge... how do you say? Resevoyer down there."

"It's reservoir," I corrected. It was best to be casual.

"Sorry, my English is not too well. I was told my vocabulary was like a 'jumbled sieve'." Weird comparison, but meh.

"You're doing decent there, mate."

"Decent is a compliment, yes?"

"Uh, yeah. It is."

"Thank you, I try. I am trying to learn your kind's languages, you people flock to our worlds like uhh, like fire."

"Really?"

"Yes. English is most common, but I picked up... a little Mandarin. Putonghua, as they say. It is useful for any potential business partners we might have. Humans have already entered our... crumbling markets. From what I have heard, Loreqi slaves are popular in Human territories."

Now I knew I was far from the nearest UN territory. Humans? Slavery? Those days, the two concepts together was absolutely unthinkable... sort of. Probably. Maybe. A bit likely. Okay, they went together like peas in a pod. The point was, enslaving organic creatures wasn't a thing back home. So this new set of Human territories were definitely not going to be as friendly. Looking back on it now, the guy who tried hunting me had already set that example.

I was going to need a bit more information on this lot, just so I knew what kind of twats I'd be dealing with. "What else can you tell me about them? I'm not really... I'm not from around here."

"You are not from the Sovereign Systems?"

"No. I'm..." Should I have said Earth? I felt like if he did that would just paint me an ideal target for ransom, info or some shit by this guy. I better had make up a place. "I'm from planet... Liverpool."

The fuck? No, a different place, you muppet!

"I mean Blackp- Liv- Blackliver. Yeah, I'm from planet Blackliver, lovely place." Oh God, there was no way anyone could have fallen for that. I was supposed to make up a planet, not a cancer research organisation.

"Which one?" I asked, as if he went deaf for the first six seconds.

Fucking what now? Was he onto me?

"Um- I uh... the one with the Co-" Stop stuttering and think of something, you clickbaiter. "It's a new colony world, they set it up a few months ago."

"Really? I have not heard of it."

"Don't blame you, it's far. Proper far."

"What are you doing so far from home?"

"Uhhhh... business trip," I said. He noticed the gun on the counter, and managed to understand. I changed the topic, "Again, what's this 'Sovereign Systems?"

"It is recent empire, it formed several cycles ago." Can't've converted that into Earth years, but all right. "I cannot say much about them. All I know is that they have many businesses, powerful ones. Many of our former territories they control. Already they have taken a city not too far from here."

"Are they nice?"

"Depends on who you talk to. Those I have met? Not exactly pleasant. But I am sure there are those polite like yourself, but they may not be as open to outsiders."

"Right, I see."

I pulled up his shirt a bit as an itch popped up on my stomach. However, the old man's face grew concerned.

I managed to notice this. Shit, did I expose anything? "You okay, mate?"

The old man's voice went a bit deeper. "Where did you get that marking?"

I looked down, noticing he was referring to the tattoo. "Why?"

Oh God, I knew it was bad news. This wasn't just something I could've gotten on a Friday night out. There was a high chance it meant I was a... something that was bad. Like I thought back in the desert, I could've been with a terrorist or criminal organisation.

I slowly reached for the gun, just in case this would've gone sideways. Yet as I barely touched it, it went off, deafening the whole room with a ring, and forcing the old man onto the ground as a bullet hole had plowed through his neck.

"Jesus Christ!" I shouted.

Keyto, the only one in the whole bar whose hearing hadn't been blown off, ran to the old man's body. "What the gosh darn heck did you just do?!"

I stammered for a few seconds. I just killed another man. This time right in front of everyone, all because of some faulty gun. "Oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! That was not my fault! My shitting gun went off!"

"I saw him reaching for it!" One of the customers shouted, just as the ringing in everyone's ears died down.

"Yes, he was holding his gun!" Another one cried.

"That's not true! I— hold up, you can all speak English?!" I said.

"We are not all ignorant locals, Human!"

And at that moment, I realised how much further I fucked up as a few of the customers, armed with machetes and whatnot, stood up, ready to jab my arse. Here, I had three options:

1) Surrender and accept my fate and end up having a machete shoved up my arse.

2) Try to talk my way out of it, like they always did in the movies.

3) Run like hell.

Yeah, option three sounded best.

I grabbed for the gun behind me, and began to leg it out of the bar. Dodging a swish which just managed to cut me by the ear, I finally made it back into the hellscape that was the outside world. I cursed at the pain, but continued running down the road, further into the town. There was no way I was going back into the desert, I wasn't going to repeat his drunk self's mistakes... again. A car. That was what I needed.

I ran through a smoke-infested alleyway, into another street, and past the main market, the shouts of my pursuers were still gaining on me. I glanced behind, there were about four or five keeping up with me. Honestly, I was surprised by how much these people cared. Well, of course, he killed probably one of the nicest people in this town. But st- Jesus, maybe this was why that man in the desert was hunting me. If I could mess up this bad sober, imagine how much further I might have been when drunk. Hopefully they had a doctor or something here, a shot to the neck wasn't entirely fatal was it?

Where was I? Oh, right. Trying not to die. I pulled down a rack of food and wares, accidentally shoving a lady out the way, but it slowed them down by merely a metre. I turned a corner, just by a brothel, finding a bit of cover behind a large sign. I stopped and flipped out the firearm, stroking the trigger in retaliation, just a warning shot, I didn't want to end up killing another guy. I pulled the trigger, only for each part, each screw, each molecule of binding earwax or whatever else kept the weapon on life support to fall apart, landing on the sand.

"Goddammit!" I shouted, tossing away what remained intact of his gun. Well, back to running.

Suddenly, another shout came out, this time in English. "Over here!" The shout said.

I eyed around, seeing a figure in one of the houses just behind me, gesturing to me to get inside. I legged it, getting through the door, concealing myself behind the wall and peering out the entrance. Great, they just missed me.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Cheers, mate."

I was about to turn to my saviour, and the next thing I knew, I was staring down the barrel of a gun. Its owner? A boy. A Human boy.