Space Criminal and Chillboi

Jay wasn't sure how to feel about Nova's confession. He definitely believed her, and despite her rambling about how she was the worst, he wasn't convinced of it. No one that terrible would be running away to make a new life for themselves. Honestly, what he was doing might have been worse. If anyone mourned him, anyways. He was pretty sure they'd move on from the news quick.

This time, it was Nova's turn to sit down and listen. He wasn't pacing like she was, but he was still hesitant on how he wanted to phrase things so he didn't sound like a spoiled brat. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times before he finally came up with the words.

"So... I'm dirt poor," he finally said.

"No you're not," she said dully. "You're a Whitley."

"Yeah," he said. "Exactly. The Whitley family is flat broke. I'm talking mountains of debt, church mouse, full destitution. If we turn our pockets inside out, there's only lint in there. And that lint is polyester."

"I don't understand," Nova said. "That's not possible. You're the richest man on this ship."

"That's what you think," he said. "That's what everyone thinks. Truth is, I've been scraping for loose change every day for the last six years."

"But... the room," she said. "The clothes. The tabloid articles about the charity work."

"The tabloids post fake information that my father sends them," Jay said. "My 'charity work' in the undercity is actually real work. I'm a factory mechanic who can barely afford his rent. That's why my hands look like this."

He held out his hands again, which were rough and callused. She looked at them, then around the room, then back at Jay.

"So you're getting married for money?" she said slowly.

"No," he said. "I mean, yes. Adelia Harrod and I were arranged because her family was willing to pay off my father's debts as long as she can wear the Whitley name. Being connected to my family is all some need to boost themselves up in society."

"Who's Adelia Harrod?"

"Some poodle," Jay shrugged. "Apparently she's always in the magazines for being some sort of fashion icon. I've never met her. The only communication we've had is through our parents, and her first message to me was a list of things I'm not allowed to wear anymore. Including the color blue. Blue. She thinks we'll clash. And then all this stuff about how she can 'fix' me when I get there, so I fit well in pictures with her."

"She sounds like a nightmare."

"And neither of us have met her," Jay pointed out. "Imagine what she's like after you meet her."

Nova grimaced, but shook her head.

"I still don't understand," she said. "If you don't want to marry this girl, why are you going to the wedding?"

"Well, I could refuse her," Jay said, "But then what? I go back home and my mother will hate me more than she already does. They'll find some other princess to ship me off to, or their bankruptcy is exposed and they'll be ruined. Then I'll be the selfish, spoiled brat who can never go anywhere again without being blamed for tearing down his family. It'll all be pinned on me, instead of my father's gambling problem. It's a losing situation both ways."

"So then what?"

"I pretend like I'm going along with it," he said. "I'm the good kid. The one who was always kind to others and gracious to everyone around him. He was such a good kid, that he set aside his 'charity work' to marry Adelia Harrod and start a beautiful family with a new generation of Whitleys. It's such a shame that he never made it to the wedding."

"Never made it to the wedding," she repeated.

"Because," Jay continued. "He met his untimely death on the way."

Nova's expression went blank, then she held both her hands up defensively.

"Woah," she said with a nervous laugh. "Uh-uh. I'm not about to witness your suicide."

"No," Jay said quickly. "I'm not really going to die. I'm planning to go most of the way there, and at the last stop before we land in Stoneshell, I'm gonna 'die'. Do you catch my drift?"

It took Nova a few seconds, but then she seemed to understand.

"You're faking your death while you still have a good image," she concluded. "Then you start a new life as the person you want to be and you never get caught up with the Whitley family debts and you're no longer responsible for it. That's... kind of clever."

"I can be clever sometimes," he said with a grin.

"Won't they mourn you?" she asked.

"They'll mourn the money they lost," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "They can divvy up the handful of cash I have left to my name. All of this stuff you see? It's on the Harrod family's tab. I'm not paying for any of it, and they don't see the bill until after the ship arrives."

"You sly dog," Nova said, cracking a smile. "You were right. You don't have much room to judge me."

"Exactly."

Nova leaned back in her seat, bouncing her knee lightly as she thought. Then she looked back over at Jay.

"Okay, I'm in," she said.

"In?"

"I'll fake my death, too," she said. "Then the bounty goes away. It'll be more believable on both sides. Your parents will think you died because you were with some hoodlum, and Tarvis will think I died because some peacock slowed me down."

"Ouch," Jay said, frowning. "I'm not so bad. It was my idea to go through the kitchen."

"You know what I mean," she said, rolling her eyes. "What do you say? Fake-murder pact?"

Jay thought for a minute, then nodded and held a hand out to her. She gave it a firm shake and grinned.

"We've got another week and a half to figure it out," she said. "What do we do until then?"

"Same thing we're doing now," Jay said. "We live it up. On the Harrod family tab, of course. We pretend to be on vacation. We continue to dodge my awful cousins and any other bounty hunters. I put on my 'business voice' when I need to. Then, we die. Tragically."

"What a loss," she said with a dramatic sigh.

"The greatest of losses."