Space Princess Diaries – Chapter 2

I’m thinking the way this will work is that every time I want the hero to do something other than what they do in a game/book/tv show, etc., I’m just going to write a Space Princess story where they do what I want. Because I can.

Chapter 1 – Love’s Luther’s Lost

Chins Up

Sweat gleamed on the Space Princess General’s second chin. Just last week Raffi and the other techs were speculating as to whether or not she’d had it done while on leave. The consensus seemed to be that her sudden growth had been quite unlikely to be naturally occurring. Unless it was a tumor, which was also unlikely.

It looked uncomfortable, and it was way out of proportion with the rest of her face. I wondered if it felt like a real chin. My fingers twitched against each other in my lap. With her original chin so nearby, it seems like it might lead one to comparison. But it was the earth fashion to have two chins and a slim neck, owing to a popular new song that expressed a passing preference for the anomaly.

Chin augmentation aside, I understood the General was upset, but her reasoning was as much a mystery as her sudden chin growth.

“You stabbed a civilian” she said again, as if that would make it more clear.

“I told him not to move” I answered. “And he’s not a civilian, he’s a suspect. He’s in custody as we speak.”

“HE’S IN THE MEDICAL WARD BECAUSE YOU STABBED HIM.” She punctuated this by slamming her hand on he desk. Her chins shook, and I strained to see if the new one shook properly. I wondered if it was still swollen from surgery.

“Space Princess General, I told him not to move, or I would stab him. He made a crack about my breasts, and so I stabbed him. It’s not like he didn’t see it coming.”

Her eyebrow rose.

“Talking is moving” I said, before she could object.

“You should not have told him you would stab him in the first place.”

I started to object, but she shut me up with a sharp “let me finish, God Damnit.”

“You weren’t even supposed to be talking to him, you were supposed to be at Hot Dog on Your Stick arresting the God damned Mantacarn, her head is a foot fucking tall and glows bright cunting green…”

“Eight inches tall” I said, adding a quick “ma’am” in response to her look of rage.

“HEAD HEIGHT” she shouted “IS NOT THE POINT AND YOU KNOW IT. You let the suspect get away.”

“With all due respect” I began…

Suddenly, but calmly, she raised her hand, an uncharacteristically polite-looking request for silence. Her words were curt.

“You had one job, and that was to bring me the shitting Mantacarn who’s been selling state secrets to every thug in the galaxy from the back of a space-port fuck booth, and instead you bring me some asshole with a hole in his chest. Do you think that this is a fair substitute for my perp?”

Well, that’s a trick question.

“And before you answer me, Space Princess” she enunciated my title with disgust “Please be aware that your AssisTech reported you missing for an hour and a half on the day of the bust. What were you possibly doing that was so important that state fucking secrets could wait?”

I crossed my arms and sat forward in my chair.

“This is bullshit, General, and you know it. I’m the only Space Princess on Earth to get within a mile of this operation, and you’re giving me shit for stabbing her pimp instead of her?! That’s one degree of separation. The next blood on my knife will be Manticorn green. I can see it as plainly as the chin on your face!”

I’d said it before I could stop myself. I slumped back again.

But the General had been caught in her own bluster. She knew I was right, I could see it in her eyes. Which she promptly covered with her hands as she slowly rubbed her forehead.

“And the hour and a half?” she sighed?

“Formizo Enforcing, ma’am. I had a… little problem. The boys helped me with it.”

She removed her hands, the hint of a smile played on her lips. “Those boys are great at what they do.” She spoke with significance, but then she seemed to lose steam. All the fury had gone out of her as easily as it had come.

She looked down at her desk and brought one hand back up to rub at the space between her eyes. “Get something out of the pimp.”

I got up and turned to go.

“And for Chrissakes, when you catch the Manticorn, don’t fucking stab her. We need her alive to tell us what she sold and to whom.”

“I will do my best” and then added “ma’am” as I walked out the door.

Chapter 3 – Why I Stabbed that Guy