Ex-Assassin Heist: A Wild Interstellar Chase

The music started before the lights fully dimmed. It was a song that soothed the savage beast, but like all good songs it gave the musicians an aphrodisiac high. It filled their bloodstreams with endorphins and adrenaline, and even amid the din of clinking glasses and shouts of laughter, it could still be heard. It was a song that had been played so many times since its release on Earth that even the most jaded cosmonauts recognized it at once.

"What is this?" said Captain Naborski, grumbling in his seat as he looked around the room. "I didn't make this trip to listen to some trivial Earth music."

"It's called Rock and Roll," said his co-pilot, Lieutenant G'vas, a young man in his early twenties who looked exactly like what you'd expect a young lieutenant from Alpha Centauri to look like: tall, handsome and full of energy. He had the same long brown hair tied back neatly in a ponytail, the same clean shave with a hint of stubble, and he spoke with the same lilting accent that Naborski found tiresome. He smiled as he continued, "These Earthlings are quite... energetic."

"That's one way of putting it," said Naborski. He was old enough to remember when Rock and Roll was considered dangerous by people like himself who grew up listening to classical music. His own parents were avid listeners to Mozart - they always told him that if they ever wanted to listen to anything else, they would just buy some Mozart records instead. When Naborski went out partying with his friends as a teenager, he always preferred jazz or blues; he didn't even know what rock music sounded like until after joining the police force. "They're just making noise," he continued, "it isn't music."

"I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself once you've had your first drink," said G'vas cheerily. The room they were in wasn't their usual passenger cabin; it was one of two small rooms reserved for those who wanted something more intimate than the party atmosphere of their larger cabin. Both Naborski and G'vas had purchased tickets for this private cabin jointly, but neither had any intention of spending much time here (aside from when they had to use it for specific purposes). "It's not so bad," said G'vas as he looked over at Naborski's usual seat where he currently sat alone, "it's not Mozart or Bach or anything I've ever heard before, but I can tolerate it."

"Then why do you approve of it?" asked Naborski irritably, turning towards his co-pilot angrily as he rose from his seat. He took a deep breath and tried to remain calm as he explained himself further: "In my day, we had proper music - real music!"

"Well... I don't really approve of it..." admitted G'vas hesitantly. He shrugged his shoulders and turned towards Naborski regretfully while taking another swig from his drink, "I just think that we should appreciate other cultures is all."

"You sound just like them," grumbled Naborski as he walked away towards the bar counter, then turned to face G'vas again when he reached it, "you sound just like these... these Earthlings!"

"We need to get along with them," insisted G'vas defensively as he stood up from his seat slowly. It was only now that Naborski noticed how much alcohol G'vas had already consumed; if they weren't both on duty tonight, then there might have been trouble between them already - especially considering how much worse G'vas looked compared to how alert he seemed earlier in the evening when they arrived here at their destination after dropping off their last batch of cargo. Asking for drinks for himself and Naborski was probably the best thing to do right now - at least that way Naborski couldn't attack him physically here unless he felt like getting arrested by this ship's security officers afterward. The security officers were part of this smuggling ring too, but they could still arrest him later if they happened to show up now anyway - so asking for drinks wasn't such a bad idea after all (their boss was notorious for having no patience whatsoever). As soon as Naborski ordered two drinks (a whiskey sour for himself and a green apple martini for G'vas) from their waitress (also part of their smuggling operation), however, things seemed better between them again. That little bit of time spent arguing seemed somehow exorcized by both men getting back into their seats again and facing each other across the tabletop between them; now they could sit down together without feeling awkward about each other's opinions again. For anyone observing them talking quietly with each other while sipping their drinks in silence shortly afterward, it would appear that nothing untoward had happened between them at all earlier in the evening - except