Sharing their minds at such a deep level the way they had, had marked Harrison with a permanent bond that allowed Kir to feel him approach even before he cleared his throat. She pushed herself around to peer over the back of the pilot's chair as he entered and settled himself into the cockpit with her. She'd been careful to retreat from his mind to avoid invading his thoughts any more than she already had; it felt like a breach of privacy at best and a breach of trust at worst if she were to listen to the innermost workings of his mind. Now, as he posed his suggestion, she almost wished she hadn't so she might have been prepared for what he said.
"You can't be serious," Kir breathed out, blinking at him in stunned disbelief. His expression never wavered with the flicker of doubt humans weren't quite able to hide, though. Eyes widening, she cursed in her own tongue before a laugh took her, adding, "You are serious."
She could think of a million and one reasons why that was a terrible idea. What if they were caught? What if someone saw them and reported them? They would become fugitives before they even had a chance to do something of any merit. Then again, she was a fugitive already - first from the empire and now from Earth - and Harrison was already a fugitive in his own right after the way he left Earth with her and was about to go stirring the pot wearing the armour of an enforcer. The the benefit of his armour was that it practically served as a get-out-of-jail-free card as long as they were within the borders of the empire, and frankly if things had stayed relatively unchanged, even outside the borders because no one was keen to tangle with the enforcers whether they were in imperial territory or not. If someone were to catch them, all he would have to do was claim imperial business and that would be that...as long as it wasn't another enforcer. If his armour was malfunctioning, another enforcer would easily pick up on it and haul them both in for a very unpleasant imprisonment. As long as his mind remained his own, their bond would hold and no amount of distance would be able to truly separate them or prevent their reunification. But if they were able to recalibrate his armour and bring him under imperial control? Kir didn't know if that would put up a barrier that even she could not break down...
She weight the options for far too long before rubbing her hands roughly over her face and groaning, "There are so many ways that idea could get us in trouble. But..." Kir hesitated as she furrowed her brow and pursed her lips thoughtfully, "Maybe you're on to something. The station was beyond imperial control half a century ago when I passed through, and I assume it still is. After all, if the empire had expanded this far, there would be no reason for them not to take Earth, right? No offence, but Earth doesn't exactly seem equipped to resist imperial incursion at the moment. Finding a scrapper to take the ship off our hands won't be hard - they're always desperate for parts and materials this far out - and once we've sold my...jewellery to a dealer on the station, we get everything on our shopping list and then we steal a ship and skip town. We just need to find a mark who would rather stay off the empire's radar than report a theft, which should be easy considering we're out in the middle of nowhere - again, no offence to Earth."
"I don't love the idea of starting our whole righteous crusade off on a crime, but I'm an imperial fugitive already and you might as well be one running around with faulty enforcer armour, so, really, what's the worst that could happen?" She mused with a shrug.
---
The rest of the short time that remained was quiet. Kir turned over and over in her head everything that could go wrong, trying to form a contingency plan for each, as she navigated the asteroid field during their approach. Luckily their plan to scrap the small ship worked out in their favour because it meant they didn't need to record the landing with the station, and she was able to bring the ship down directly in the scrap yard. Scrappers weren't exactly the tidiest record keepers, but most of the time no one much cared since whatever ended up in their possession was disassembled and sold for parts anyway.
Kir made a last pass of the ship, committing the ruined shell of it to memory and picking through whatever remained for anything of use. She'd ripped out the chip that stored the ship's data banks on it, deciding it was best not to leave that for someone to snoop through the navigational logs and it would allow her to compare what she knew to be true fifty years ago with whatever information was logged on the ship they managed to steal. She'd also managed to scrounge up a sack for them to stuff her old slave bands into so they weren't carrying them around loose in a blanket. It was already going to raise suspicions when they sold them, so best not to turn any more heads than they already would.
As they prepared to disembark, Kir stopped and turned back to Harrison, "Armour up, Harrison. You remember what I showed you through my memories about enforcers? We need to project a certain image this time so people avoid us out there, and unfortunately that means you're not my friend, you're my handler. I can do most of the talking this time, and your armour should translate whatever is said for you, but it's old and it's probably out of date, so if it fails I can take over. We'll be in and out as fast as we can, okay?"
Once they stepped off the ship, Kir became a different person. She'd been a lab specimen for fifty years, but she still remembered slavery. Whatever air of confidence she had melted away as she made herself seem small next to Harrison. She wasn't a fugitive who had escaped captivity twice anymore, she was the expensive pet of a respected enforcer in the imperial ranks. To have an X'hondrian slave was a symbol of status and rank, and whatever attention that drew would quickly be averted for fear of incurring the wrath of an enforcer. That's what Kir was betting on. They would be noticed and then quickly forgotten, and if anyone came asking questions, no one would be able to answer them because no one would have taken the time to get a good look at them let alone speak to them outside of whatever business transactions were conducted during their visit.
As soon as their ramp descended, the scrapper scuttled out to introduce himself. He had far too many legs and not enough eyes, and he made a chittering sound as he moved that grated on the ears. He was clearly flustered by the realisation he was welcoming such a high-ranking imperial enforcer, Kir cut him off before he could speak.
"Spare us," she raised a hand to silence him. "We're only here to sell."
"Of course, of course," the scrapper nodded quickly. "I can have it appraised immediately."
"I suppose you think he has all the time in the world? We'll sell it by weight," Kir scoffed.
"Of course. You're very busy with...enforcer business...I'm sure," the scrapper hesitated, wringing his appendages nervously. If his species could sweat, Kir suspected he would be dripping. "Right this way, please. Transfers are much slower; I can pay out cash immediately."
Once his back was turned, scuttling off on his too many legs toward a door at the far end of the scrap yard, Kir spared a glance back at Harrison to beckon him on as she followed the insectoid scrapper. She didn't like the way he hesitated when he spoke. Something about him put her on edge, and she had a feeling something about this deal would come back to haunt them at some point, but the only way out was through so they had no choice but to keep going.
'You okay so far?' She pressed the thought into his mind gently. As they walked, she opened the connection between them to give them a means of communication where they could speak freely, unrestricted by the parts they were forced to play.
