This is Oprhan Rebels, Episode Seven.
The Stellar Harvester shot through space, putting more and more distance between them and the Deep Vine Jungle Mining Colony.
In an effort to get away quick, the crew turned the engines all the way up to eleven, burning more stellarite than the engines were used to handling.
Now Griff and Poop were in the engine bay, checking levels and making repairs.
“We gotta stop to refuel.” Griff said to the rest of the crew over comms. “Some professional maintenance and repair wouldn’t hurt either.”
“We’ve got some stellarite on the ship Griff.” Leesa reminded. “Just thrown some of that in the engines.”
“We’ve got crates of unrefined stellarite.” answered Griff. “That stuff’s not good for the engines. Too unpredictable and could blow a gasket or even worse. We need to park this ship and get some refined stellarite and repairs. Period.”
The crew knew by now that Griff rarely got serious. So when he got serious, it was serious.
“Open Port is the closest Space Station.” said Alice.
“Okay then, we’ll try and sneak into Open Port,” said Griff. “Me and Poop will alter the ship’s signatures and give it a new name so we aren’t recognized… Hopefully…”
Brock and Leesa shook their heads at the name Poop. They still weren’t used to the name that the bot had given itself. Maybe they never would be used to it…
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to name the ship ‘Fart’ or something ridiculous,” said Brock.
“I suggested Fart.” said Poop. “But Griff said no.”
Brock and Leesa were relieved.
“Our ship’s new name is The Merchants Purse. Maybe people will think we’re a trading vessel.” said Griff. “I’m also going to order a complete exterior repaint of the ship when we get to Open Port. Gonna have it painted light green like most of the other merchant ships.”
“Sounds good,” said Brock. “And Griff, thanks for not naming the ship ‘Fart’.”
Nearly a day later, the group could see the huge Open Port space station in the distance.
As Alice steered the ship closer and closer to the Open Port Space Station, she maneuvered it between two bigger ships, hoping to keep undercover as much as possible.
After knocking off their second mining colony, the mining corporations were certainly out looking for them. That, or they’ve paid bounty hunters and space cops to track them down. Or both.
As they approached, Griff sent repair request codes to the dockmaster and once they docked with the space station, robot ship painting units were already waiting on the landing pad. These small painting drones began re-spraying the ship a light green color just as the landing legs touched down.
“What’dya think?” Brock asked as he and Griff walked onto the bridge of the ship. Alice, Leesa and the others turned to see the two boys standing there with big bushy fake mustaches. Huge, comically large mustaches that seemed to cover the entire bottom part of their faces.
“We’re wearing disguises!” they said. “And we brought a mustache for you too Leesa.”
“Too late!” Leesa said.
She had a cloak pulled down far over her face. And she had used convincing makeup to draw age lines on her face, making her look like an old lady.
“I’ve already disguised myself as an old merchant lady. And I drive a hard bargain!” she said in a convincing old lady voice.
The robots: Alice, Servo, Crusher, Ripper,... and Poop, had adorned themselves in long hooded cloaks like merchant guild members often wore. The group turned and looked at their reflection in the bridge’s viewscreen.
“We look quite convincing.” admitted Alice.
“One more thing…” began Brock hesitantly. “Robots aren’t allowed to walk freely on Open Port, or any other public space station. I had to register you five as property of us…”
An uncomfortable silence fell among them. The bots had just risked everything to be freed, and now they had to pretend to be property once more.
Alice nodded. She had come to be the leader of the other bots and they listened to her. “We will do what we must.”
And, with that, the crew of The Merchants Purse marched off the ship.
Griff gave the dockmaster a slim vial of Stellarite to pay for the repairs and painting his bots would do while they were on the spacestation.
“I’ve uploaded our shopping list to our shared files.” Griff said.
Brock and Leesa pulled out their data pads and scanned their list of needs while they walked.
“We need to look for nano-gel for the bots, some comms scramblers that we can maybe mod to disrupt those control collars, upgrades for our weapons and hopefully we can find some cool upgrades for our new mech units. We also need to buy some better rations and medical supplies for the three of us.”
Everyone gave a slight nod, understanding what they’d be looking for on this bustling space station.
The Open Port Space Station was like a massive floating city enclosed in a shimmering energy dome. From the outside, it looked like a giant soap bubble drifting through space, but as they approached, the kids could see it was anything but fragile.
Docking arms extended from every surface of the spherical station like the spines of a metal sea urchin. Hundreds of ships of every size and design were latched onto these arms - sleek courier vessels, bulky cargo haulers, elegant passenger liners, and countless small traders like their newly renamed Merchant's Purse.
Inside the atmospheric dome, the station's interior was visible as a complex maze of levels, walkways, and open spaces. Gardens and parks dotted the middle levels like green islands, while the outer rings buzzed with the constant movement of people and cargo.
"There must be thousands of people in there," Leesa said, still practicing her old lady voice.
“Maybe tens of thousands.” commented Alice. “Welcome to Open Port. Where anything can be bought, sold, or traded… if you know where to look.”
The kids' data pads immediately synced up with Open Port's visitor guide, displaying a dizzying array of shops, restaurants, and services spread across twelve distinct levels.
"The fuel depot is on Level Three," Griff said, scanning his pad. "And there's a robotics parts vendor on Level Five that looks promising."
They made their way through the docking bay's security checkpoint, where a bored-looking security officer barely glanced at their falsified trader credentials before waving them through.
The marketplace hit them like a wall of sound and color. Hundreds of species from across the galaxy filled the walkways - tall insectoid traders in iridescent shells, business aliens all looking for deals, elegant diplomats in flowing robes. Holographic advertisements floated above every stall, shouting about deals and discounts in a dozen languages.
"Stay together," Brock said, trying to sound authoritative through his ridiculous mustache. "And remember - we're just boring traders looking for supplies."
The crowds parted around them as they walked, their robot "servants" following at a respectful distance. Alice played her part perfectly, moving with the mechanical precision of a properly controlled robot, though her optical sensors never stopped scanning for potential threats.
A vendor called out to them: "Trader robes! Get your authentic trader robes here! Only fifty credits!"
Leesa waved him off with a gnarled hand gesture she'd been practicing. "We already got robes, ya fool!" she croaked in her old lady voice.
Griff had to stifle a laugh.
They descended to Level Three via a wide spiral ramp that offered views of the station's interior gardens below. Children played in the green spaces while their parents conducted business nearby - a reminder that Open Port served as home for many, not just a waystation.
Shopping Begins
The fuel depot was a utilitarian affair - rows of refined stellarite containers behind reinforced glass, with payment terminals and automated dispensers. A Cabooshan merchant ended up giving them a good deal on some refined stellarite and a few small back-up battery packs.
"Next stop, robot parts," Leesa said, already heading toward the ramps leading to Level Five.
The robotics vendor was a massive shop filled with components of every type - replacement limbs, optical sensors, processing cores, and repair equipment. A floating droid greeted them at the entrance.
"Welcome to Mechanica! Are you looking for upgrades or repairs today?"
"Parts and gear," Griff said, his eyes already lighting up at the array of advanced technology. "We need nano-gel, diagnostic equipment, and..." he trailed off, staring at a display case containing what looked like reinforced combat armor designed for robots.
Poop had wandered over to a shelf of shiny chrome robot arms and was reaching out to touch them when Servo grabbed his arm.
"Remember," Servo whispered. "We are supposed to be obedient servant robots."
"But it is shiny," Poop whispered back longingly. “And I need two extra arms.”
“You have two arms,” said Servo, getting annoyed. “You don’t need two more.”
“Yes, I do. I can put them right here and right here.” Poop pointed to the spaces on his sides, just beneath his existing arms. “Then I would have four arms and that would be awesome. I need four arms. We all need four arms.”
Poop turned his head around to find the others. “Brock! I found new arms. We all need new arms.”
Brock, Griff and Leesa came over to see what this was about.
“I have located shiny chromed arms.” Poop said. “We need these arms.”
“What?! No… is there something wrong with your arms?” Brock asked Servo, wanting a second opinion on this arm situation. Before Servo could answer, Poop continued.
“If we bought more arms then we could all have four arms and that would be cool.” said Poop.
Brock and Griff looked at each other, surprised and confused.
“It would be pretty cool.” agreed Griff finally.
“Yeah… I mean there’s no way I can argue that four arms is cooler than two arms.” nodded Brock. “Look, we’re gonna get this other stuff we need and then we’ll see if there is anything left over for the extra arms.”
Servo shook his head, annoyed. And they all went back to shopping.
Brock was examining the combat armor pieces. "These could be adapted for our mech units. Alice, what do you think?"
Alice moved forward to inspect the equipment, careful to maintain her "controlled" demeanor. "The reinforced plating would significantly improve durability. And these power couplings..." she paused. "These could double the power output of our drilling mechanisms."
"We'll take three sets of armor plating and three power couplings," Brock decided.
“And these spare parts.” Griff dumped a pile of random mechanical and electronic parts onto the counter.
“And these arms.” Poop dumped a few robot arms onto the counter as well.
As they negotiated with the shop's attendant, none of them noticed the figure watching from across the marketplace - a tall robot with sections of gleaming gold armor, its enhanced optical sensors tracking their every move.
Next Section: First Signs of Danger
As the shop attendant tallied their purchases, calculating payment in raw stellarite, Brock felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. That primal instinct that someone was watching them.
He glanced around casually, trying not to draw attention. The marketplace was crowded as ever - vendors hawking their wares, shoppers haggling over prices, helper bots making deliveries.
Then he saw it. Across the marketplace, partially obscured by a floating advertisement hologram, stood a robot unlike any he'd seen before. Tall, imposing, with sections of gleaming gold armor visible beneath a long shifting robe. Its optical sensors were locked directly on their group.
"Uh, guys?" Brock murmured quietly. "Don't look now, but I think we've got a problem."
Griff's mustache was peeling again as sweat beaded on his upper lip. He pressed it back down nervously. "What kind of problem?"
"The kind with gold armor and really expensive-looking sensors," Brock replied.
Alice, still maintaining her servant-bot posture, adjusted her position slightly to get a better view. "Bounty hunter configuration. Enhanced tracking systems. That's Goldstrike."
"You know him?" Leesa asked, her old-lady voice momentarily slipping.
"I know of him. Most bots have heard tales of the robot bounty hunter," Alice said. "He takes the highest paying bounties and is constantly upgrading his robot body. Beneath his robes are panels of gold infused combat armor. He is dangerous. He is ruthless.”
The shop attendant cleared his throat. "Your total comes to four vials of raw stellarite. A great deal.”
Griff fumbled with the payment, his hands shaking slightly as he handed over the vials. The attendant loaded their purchases into containers that Ripper and Crusher immediately picked up.
"We should go," Servo said quietly. "Now."
But when Brock looked back toward where Goldstrike had been standing, the golden bounty hunter had vanished into the crowd.
"Where'd he go?" Griff asked, his voice cracking nervously, making him sound even more like a kid pretending to be an adult.
"He's still watching us," Alice said with certainty. "He's just being less obvious about it now. We need to finish our shopping and return to the ship. Quickly."
They moved through the marketplace with renewed urgency, Leesa's old-lady shuffle abandoned for a more purposeful stride. Every reflective surface became a potential mirror to check if they were being followed. Every tall figure in the crowd made them tense.
"Medical supplies and rations are on Level Seven," Griff said, checking his data pad. "It's on the way back to the docking bay."
"Then we make one more stop and we're gone," Brock decided, his fake mustache finally giving up entirely and falling off. He caught it quickly and stuffed it in his pocket. "Forget the disguises. Let's just get what we need and get out of here."
“Alice, could you…” Leesa began.
“I will go back to the ship now and prep for departure.” Alice interrupted. “Engines will be primed and ready for take-off soon. Don’t dawdle.”
Alice disappeared into the crowd heading back to the launch pad.
Behind them, hidden among the flowing crowd, golden optical sensors continued their patient observation.
…
THE END