Roxie Vega has found her spirit ship. The Oberon Outlaw may be scarred and lumpy. But it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen…
Ship Lust
by Angelique Fawns
And she knew that somehow, some way, she would have to get that ship. She identified with it. Something beautiful with rough edges. Something that people underestimate all the time.
“One day you will be mine,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Doran gave her an odd look but kept chattering, obviously warming to the topic. “Too bad she ended up in Simon’s hands. The way he’s taking care of her, the old girl is going to end up in the junk yard.” He pointed to some steam leaking from the engine area. “That looks like a transmission meltdown. If he doesn’t add a whack-load of coolant and get her serviced, this might be her final voyage.”
“That’s tragic.”
Doran touched her arm. “Lots of tragedy on Oberon. Speaking of, I’ve got to get back to my bar. It doesn’t take long for things to get rowdy in there.”
She followed him to the entrance of the weathered casino. “Why would Simon pay for top-notch modifications and then not take care of her?”
“Oh, he hasn’t had her for long. Like many things around here, he won her in a hand of cards. The original owner was some rich collector of antiques, and he put the boosters on her.”
With one last look over her shoulder at the Outlaw, she followed Doran into the casino, which looked more like the outside of a highway roadhouse. Inside, Roxie caught her breath at the surprisingly cool air and deceptive size of the interior.
A huge bar dominated the centre of the wide open room, as big as a ballroom. It was a circular area, with mirrors that rose to the ceiling and every booze bottle conceivable shelved in organized ranks. Ancient country music crooned through the interior. Stuff she recognized from Buzz’s antique record collection. Garth Brooks sang about his friends being in low places. Which was a perfect tune for this place.
Enormous screens hung on the walls showing races from every corner of the galaxy. Horse racing on most, greyhounds on others. Even osset racing on some. The strange bull-like creatures thrashed and careened down the tracks, bucking their jockeys off before the finish line in most cases.
Little mismatched tables with sorry-looking chairs formed the first circle around the bar, with a few patrons sipping on frothy drinks. A circle of slot machines was singing and beeping around them, with huge tables handing more intense games in the darker corners.
There might be only thirty customers playing right now, a few tentacled aliens playing the slots, a couple of rough Oberians drinking at the tables, and other aliens in various forms and sizes playing the games.
Her shoulders dropped, and she took a deep breath, feeling more relaxed than she had since the moment Viper knocked on her door.
She grew up in gambling parlours. This felt like home to her.
Turning with a smile, she addressed Doran, “I like this place. Where do you want me to start?”
“How about with a shower?” Doran gave her a once-over, but the look in his eye was nothing like the one in Simon’s. This one was appraising. Judgmental.
Roxie sniffed at her armpits. “You might be right.”
“Dana told me to give you one of her guest rooms, which means you must be somebody special, ’cause the rest of us sleep in the barracks out back. Or we’ve got our own places in town. But come with me.”
Roxie tilted her head to the side. Was she making him nervous? He was practically babbling.
He was even blushing under his thick stubble. “Come on, now. A guy’s got work to do around here.”
Roxie followed him out of the main area of the saloon, through a narrow hallway and down a set of stairs. She was expecting more of the same in the back rooms. Dusty and old. Surprisingly, everything got more modern. Bright lights. A clean smell of peppermint in the air.
They passed an ornate circular door.
Doran pulled out a skeleton key, like something out of an old mystery movie. “These are Dana’s chambers, and this is her guest room.”
Roxie caught her breath. It was stunning. Beautiful mahogany wood. A huge four-poster king-size bed. Gorgeous furniture. Thick Arabian rugs. The place was absolutely incredible.
Is the Oberon Outlaw Roxie’s spirit animal? And how does she make this beautiful fritter of a garbage hauler her own?
Tune in next week! A new Roxie story drops every Wednesday.
Want to catch up?
Read the previous chapters here!
Chapter 1- A Teenage Roxie and Viper
Chapter 2 - A Drunk and a Cadillac Trunk
Chapter 3 - The Louisvile Low Docks
Chapter 4 - Doubling Down with a Damalian