Chapter 3: Got No Ticket to Ride
After still more hours of waiting, finally, the planet could be seen out the window, getting bigger by the second as the ship slowed down it's tremendous speed. After a while, they reached a stable distance.
“W-We finally here now?” Forge asked.
“We have arrived, Sir!!!! This is planet Reglom. The home planet of the nikeans and, as that would suggest, the center of Nikean Territory. As of now we are approaching one of their over-atmospheric stations. As I warned you, Sir, they don't tend to appreciate foreigners.” said DEURMOD.
Sure enough, Forge could see the space station some distance away from the ship. He took a moment to observe the planet. There could be seen large landmasses, being balanced out by an equal amount of seas.
“Th-This is kinda exitin' for... me. Hope' ev-everythin' goes well...” he Man in the Jacket admitted.
The ship's AI continued to warn him: “I must also inform you, Reglom's 'pull' varies a lot from area to area. If you arrive on the wrong area, you could get squashed by this 'pull'.”
“I d-don' think i-it can crush me... b-but do ya know which parts ar'... safe?” the Man in the Jacket asked.
“The data says we are closer to one.” DEURMOD replied.
“...Okay, na-now what? Do we... lan' in the planet, or som-somthin' like that?” Forge again asked.
“Well, It would be safer to announce your presence before landing, or else the nikeans would probably arrest you for trespassing.” replied the computer.
“Ar-Arrest me? An' then wha-” But before he could say more, he saw a bright red light coming from the front of the ship's window.
“Oh, Uff-Uffern, wh-what now?” he asked, annoyed.
He noticed that the light came from a flashlight-like object, held by a figure floating in front of the ship, without a spaceship. Below the red light, another smaller yellow light began blinking slowly.
“I presume it's a nikean police officer.” DEURMOD bluntly answered.
“Yo-You serius!?!? I don'... don' have time for-”
The figure lowered the light down, and that's when Forge could see what it was. It was a young-looking woman, surprisingly not wearing any sort of space-suit or even a mask in the vacuum. Instead, she was wearing a very fancy and formal looking pink and lavender dress with a corset in her abdominal area; with lavender and reddish sleeves; the rest of her arms were covered by elbow-length lavender gloves with a poppy flower design on the back of the hands; alongside white boots. Another notable thing was her white wide-brimmed hat with a large pink rose at the top.
She simply floated in front of as she pointed towards the airlock of the station.
“Uuuhhh, wha-what does she want? An' why's she der-dressin' lik' that?” Forge asked.
“Most likely, she wants us to park our vehicle in the Over-Atmospheric Station.” answered DEURMOD.
“Oh, yeah... obveesly... shoul'... we do it?”
“I'd recommend it Sir, if you are to avoid any potential struggles.”
“O-Okay... do it then.” Forge responded.
DEURMOD then made the ship carefully enter the airlock. It parked on a designated area, with the airlock closing. With a low hiss, the chamber was filled with breathable air. Once this was done, the nikean approached the from of the ship, by the window. She held another thing that looked like some sort of walkie-talkie pressing multiple buttons.
“She appears to be trying to communicate with our network, I'll open the link.” DEURMOD bluntly informed.
“Wa-Wait, no!!!” Forge said loudly, panicking.
Suddenly, from the speakers, he heard her voice in an interrogative tone. But he couldn't understand the language she spoke. She then spoke in another dialect, But Forge still couldn't understand her.
“I've taken the liberty to activate the microphone, Sir.” said DEURMOD.
Forge looked angrily at the computer, not being particularly amused.
But before he could say anything, she spoke again, in another language.
“Do you understand me now?” she asked.
The Man in the Jacket gulped. “Uhhh, y-yes.”
“Surprising. Do you have the codes or permission to enter Nikean territory?” she sternly questioned.
“Uhhh, well... n-no?” he replied.
“That's too bad. Exit the vehicle, now.” she ordered.
“O-Okay...” he replied, not sounding very confident.
The ship's doors were opened and he stepped outside. The station had walls made of a tin-like riveted metal and had pipes aligning the walls. The latter hissed as the air pressure changed.
And there was the nikean waiting.
“Are you aware of the consequences of entering Nikean territory without the codes or a permit?” she asked, scornfully, while typing something in the strange red light device that, bizarrely, doubled as some sort of miniature typewriter.
“...N-No?” he nervously answered.
“Didn't think so.” she replied and lifted her head, making her face plainly visible. It was then that he got a good look.
He got a bit flustered as he beheld her. Her face had flawless looking smooth skin; a medium-sized nose with a long bridge; and a face caked up in makeup, making her face look completely white, with pale pink lipstick, bluish eye-shadow and a mole (that was totally fake) on the upper left of her cheek. She had black curly hair made into a braid that ended in her left shoulder, with some curly bangs hanging on her forehead. Her sharp blue eyes stared directly at him.
“Yo-You... ar' you a ne-neeqeean?” he reluctantly asked.
“Well, obviously.” she answered.
“So... y-you're a cop?” he asked.
“Yes, I'm the Assigned Officer Latymer.” she replied.
“...aaaand you're dressed lik' that?” he dryly asked.
“Yes, what about it?" she asked with a dry but slightly aggressive tone.
“N-No, no.... for-forget it... wha-what ar' ya gonna do now?” he asked.
“You're going to have to come with me.” she bluntly replied.
“Hmmfff...” he grumbled.
“Is there a problem?” she asked, holstering her type-phone.
“Listen here, Officer, I... I've come a lon-long way t-to get 'ere, only so I can fin' my way back to my hom-home worl' far from here... a-and I'm not feelin' li-like 'nother interrution.” he replied, sounding tired and annoyed.
“What is it that you're saying? You're unwilling to cooperate?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow.
“...We-Well I...” he tried to answer.
“I'm warning you, foreigner, don't struggle. You'll only make this harder for yourself.” she warned him.
“...I don'... I-I'm only tryin' to ex-explain...” Forge continued.
She simply scoffed at this. “So we've got a troublemaker here... I won't be warning you again, foreigner. So just listen and come quietly.” she sternly demanded.
Forge narrowed his eyes at the nikean as he floated away, still facing her.
“I see that you can fly, you're not a typical foreigner... no matter.” she said, sounding only a little surprised as she herself floated towards him.
Then the nikean, very quickly, extended her hand and grabbed his arm, that's when she swung him to the floor, surprising him. She had surprisingly strong grip.
He quickly got up, murmuring to himself: “Huh, she... seems stron' enough to tak' a hit or two...”
The officer then quickly moved to his level, facing him. Reacting, he attempted to grab her arm to lightly throw her to the wall. But she immediately grabbed his wrist.
With his other arm he attempted to push her, but she simply pulled Forge forward and elbowed him in the gut. This sent him rolling back quickly as he groaned in pain, clutching his stomach.
“You were warned.” she sternly said.
Of course, a fight would ensue. He believed she wouldn't be much of an obstacle, but she proved to be far more capable than he thought.
His patience running out, Forge flew straight at her to try and ram her, but she quickly moved aside. She was a lot faster than he expected.
“Woah-” he expressed just before she kicked him in the abdomen.
“GAAHH!!!!” he groaned in pain.
He regained his composure quickly, looking for the officer. Then he noticed she was just floating there, with her hand resting on her hip with a stoic, but bored, expression. He narrowed his eyes. Who did she think she was? He charged at her again, putting out more strength in his attack
The officer moved quickly, grabbed his fist before it could hit her, then hit him in the throat. He flew away, coughing and rubbing his throat in pain. She fought skillfully, outclassing Forge's lack of fighting experience. Still, he persisted and so did the struggle. The officer hit him in the throat, stomach, knees and kidneys, while also either blocking or dodging his own attacks. One of her punches hit him on the face, being strong enough to draw blood from his cheek.
The officer, at noticing this, stared closely at his blood. She looked confused, apparently surprised at something.
After some hits, he stopped attacking and whispered “I didn' expec' this, bu-but screw it, dodge this!!!” as blue energy charged his hand.
Officer Latymer raised an eyebrow at this and prepared for whatever came next. Immediately later, Forge aimed his palm at her, the blue energy blast quickly shooting out, but (much to his surprise) she cleanly dodged it, unharmed. The blast hit the wall of the station, causing an explosion followed by some decompression.
“O-Okay, you... you doged, b-but you'll 'ventually need to breathe, righ'?” he whispered reassuringly (and smugly) to himself.
Taking notice of the breach, the officer charged at him again. Hitting him in the gut (again), disorienting him (again). Wasting no time, she reached for something in her back, at the waist, resembling a hair-dryer; and shot at Forge. From the odd tool fired a weird, sheet-like object that wrapped around his torso and arms.
In the confusion, he fell on his back; feeling his arms were now bound at the sides. More alarming was that, try as he might, it wouldn't give out. This “trapper-wrap” seemed impossible to even stretch. He attempted to charge his blue energy blasts, but nothing happened.
“Al-Alright, break off..... OH, COM'ON!!!!” he groaned as the wrapper seemed to “nullify” his strength completely. He tried to simply fly away, but, try as he may, he couldn't fly at all.
“Yay for me...” he said to himself and groaned, laying his head on the cold, riveted floor.
The nikean quickly took him, still wrapped in the trapper, and locked him inside some sort of four-wheeled dump cart (oddly simplistic). They passed another airlock and arrived at another, older-looking spaceship.
She dragged him inside the ship, still in the cart. As they went, he beheld the place. The ship itself had a very similar look to the station. Made up of both tin and brass-like materials; the floor and walls being made of sheets riveted together, with porthole windows; and many pipes lined up on the walls and on the ceiling.
The ship was illuminated by simple bowl-shaped ceiling lights, all lined up in pairs at the ceiling. Overall, it looked more like the inside of an old submarine than what he expected from a spaceship. The officer pushed one of two buttons on a unit on the wall. A noticeable hiss from the pipes continued for a while until the gears quickly inverted their rotation. With this, the ship began to descend.
After a short while, they landed and, after it's lock mechanism unlocked, the door opened with a hiss. Now, the city was in view.
A strange place, with many, many tall buildings; having nikeans all over the place. Everyone looked dressed very fancily or formally, no one would be caught dead wearing shorts.
She simply dragged the cart with him inside, almost like dragging a carriage.
From the cart he saw the brick roads, made only for walking; they didn't need cars, they could fly (well, most of them). The populace flew through the peculiar city; between the buildings, sometimes entering them through balconies. These building looked to be built with bricks (or, at least, their facade was) and were very tall, with many balconies and large windows.
But the most impressive part was that one half of the city was built similarly to a tall ridge. One whole half of the skyline rose upwards at a steep angle, almost like a gigantic staircase in the shape of a bent, triangular arc, countless buildings basically “stacked” on each higher “step”. This left the first floor of the higher buildings far above ground level.
The other side of the city was flatter and more conventional. Multiple buildings of both sides had bridges across each other, making the entire city a huge connected structure. Some even had smaller buildings in the bridges, in-between other buildings.
In the distance a huge clock tower could clearly be seen, alongside gigantic chimney-like towers perpetually producing smoke. But above the entire skyline was a truly colossal metallic structure built from interconnected bars, arched over a large section of the metropolis. The sky above was noticeably filled with smoke, as light mist covered the entire city. There was also an odd pillar of smoke coming out of the middle of the city, but it didn't look like a controlled one.
Forge just stared, impressed at the scale. In between the buildings were also many railways, with trains coming and going. Their locomotives had complicated mechanisms involving gears and pipes that steamed at random; some of them didn't appear to carry anyone, simply being used for the delivery of stock; while others carried nikeans very quickly between inner sections of the city.
All their machinery looked like it was powered by steam engines, but it clearly couldn't be. Regardless of what it was powered by, it was enough to power spaceships.
The Man in the Jacket saw all types of nikeans, including child nikeans, still dressed formally. Many were floating, the ones who weren't in a hurry just walked casually. He also saw multiple kiosks in which nikeans made lines to buy snacks.
“Brackels, get your Brackels!!!” said a nikean with an apron, wearing a beanie hat, inside a kiosk. There were stores seen on the side of some buildings, with nikeans flying in and out. Many of the nikeans stared at Forge as they passed by, with disgusted expressions.
He sighed and whispered: “Mustn' be used to visitors...”
After a while, they finally arrived at the police station. It was another tall building, mostly colored dark gray (almost black). Forge gulped.
There was a large sign over the entrance: “LOCHEN CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT”
The officer dragged him into the main lobby and took him out of the cart, still wrapped.
Even the police where dressed very formally, wearing fancy suits and bowties (and, occasionally, hats too); while the nikean women always wore fancy dresses. Most of them had similar "trapper-wrap" guns on their belts or backs.
“What's this you brought now, Brigitte?” asked a male mustached nikean sitting on an office behind a window. He was typing in at a keyboard that was built like a typewriter with a large screen on front (basically, a computer).
“I got this foreign troublemaker, he wouldn't come peacefully, unfortunately, it took some force to get him to 'cooperate'.” she explained.
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