Tech Scavengers [Humorous, Action-Packed Space Opera]

Jeridan hadn't felt this good since that time he had knocked Negasi flat on his ass. The guy had come up with some story that Aurora was giving an injection to someone and that had distracted him. What bull!

Oh, it might be true. He didn't doubt that. So much weird stuff happened on this ship that anything was possible. But claiming that distracted him? Ha! Jeridan had won that fight fair and square.

He careened down the hallway, bouncing off one wall and then the other.

"What do you do with a drunken sailor, what do you do with a drunken sailor, what do you do with a drunken sailor, eaaarly in the moooorning!"

Oh, and a drunken sailor he sure was. The best thing about drinking with alcoholics was they always wanted another round, so Jeridan had gotten to drink half of a bottle he had given to Dean as a gift.

Once they had polished off the bottle, he had left the head of security to come back to talk to his partner.

Where was that simp, anyway?

Negasi came around the corner.

"Oh, hey!" Jeridan waved, misjudging the distance and smacking his hand against the metal wall. "Ow. Hee hee."

Negasi frowned. "What the hell are you doing?"

Jeridan grabbed him by the shoulders. "Looking for you, old buddy. Hic! We got ourselves a deal."

"A deal?"

Jeridan looked around and lowered his voice. "With Dean (hic!) Solis. He's got a connection that can offload the whiskey."

Negasi stopped frowning. "Really?"

"Really. I said I wanted to palaver with you first about the price. And he's (hic!) willing to throw in some intel on Nova."

"Oh, right. She's been here before. He probably knows a thing or two. Good job."

Jeridan straightened, stumbled, and gave a salute. "Always glad to be of service, generalissimo."

"We got a couple of hours before I need to escort Nova back to the data hacker's place. Let's go. But first take some Party's Over."

Jeridan's heart sank. "No!"

Party's Over was a little bastard of a liquid medicine. Ten milligrams of the damn stuff (which tasted like dirty feet, by the way) would sober you up from even the hardest all-nighter within a matter of minutes. A horrible invention of the pharmaceutical industry, but handy if you found yourself drunk and faced with a job that required sobriety.

Like now.

"Ugh! You want me to sober up from a Sagittan whiskey high?"

"I'm not making a deal with that corrupt asshole with you as drunk as a Butaran tugboat captain."

Jeridan giggled.

"What?" Negasi said.

"Dean's wife left him for a tugboat captain."

"Wonderful. So we have to make a deal with a guy whose life you ruined?"

"You never met Winifred. I (hic!) saved him. Anyway, he's all business now. Profit eases the hardest heart."

"Let's hope so. Come on. Let's get you that Party's Over."

"All right," Jeridan moped as he followed his buddy to his quarters.

Once there, he bounced off the doorway, got helped through by his buddy, and sat on his bed while Negasi got one of those evil little ampules of Party's Over. Some cackhead in the pharmaceutical industry had decided to make it look like a shot glass.

Very funny.

He took his shot, screwed up his face at the taste, and sat there while Negasi waited for him to sober up.

He could feel that beautiful whiskey high slipping away like a lover taking a spaceship to a distant planet.

Even before the intoxication faded, the memory of that planet getting saturated with nukes came crashing back into his mind.

He had drunk those visions into silence. Now they roared through his consciousness.

Jeridan put his face in his hands and moaned.

"Oh, don't be a whiner. It's not the end of the galaxy."

"It will be," Jeridan husked. He started to tremble.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

"Whoa! What's wrong?" Negasi put a hand on his shoulder.

"Dean showed me a newsvid. The aliens are nuking planets. Absolutely covering them in radiation. They're killing worlds, Negasi. Killing everything. It's only a matter of time before we're next."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, sober and mournful, Jeridan walked with Negasi through the station. When he had returned drunk to the Antikythera through the market area, it had looked like a wonderland of bright lights and fascinating people. Now it looked like a crummy gathering of dodgy goods and even dodgier denizens.

Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered. The edge of the galaxy was on fire, and that fire was spreading.

We're not dead yet, Jeridan reminded himself. Let's try not to die before our time, all right?

Jeridan kept his hand close to his pistol.

"What a waste of a good drunk," Jeridan grumbled.

"Your drunk wasted a good chance to learn more about Mason."

"Mason?"

Oh hell, the kids. All the kids are going to die too.

Jeridan rubbed his face, trying not to let the memories of that burning planet overwhelm him.

"I was talking with him," Negasi said. "He came right into the armory and started chattering away."

"Mason acting like a normal kid? That is strange."

"Not so fast, bro. He acted really weird. Said he hung out with his father in the holocabin. Also said he didn't like electronics because they weren't alive or dead."

"Huh?"

"That was my reaction. Then when I went to find you, I literally bumped into Aurora, who was frantic to find him. She had what looked like a hypo case."

Jeridan noticed an Awaari that had been walking the same direction as they were for the last minute. He glared at the little fur ball and it veered off into a store selling engine components.

"Too bad I wasn't around. I could have knocked you on your ass again."

How many more times will I get to do that?

"This is serious, Jeridan. Something strange is going on with that kid."

"He fits right in with the rest of the family."

"Big time."

"So how do you want to play Dean?"

"He's your friend," Negasi said.

"Nobody is Dean's friend. He's as greedy and corrupt as they come."

"Fine trading partner you got for us."

"I don't think he'll try to rip us off. He wouldn't want to endanger his position. While he gripes about losing his commission in the Canopan Empire, he really landed on his feet. This is the best place for someone like him. And you know the Freebooter's Collective. 'Rip off everyone but ourselves'. If he stabs us in the back, he'll be out on his ass, assuming they don't eject him out an airlock."

"What about this customs official he's talking about?"

"Yeah, that might be a problem," Jeridan admitted. A stranger in the mix always made a deal risky.

They came to the security section and got passed through by the same guard Jeridan had met last time. Or at least he thought he was the same guard. Impossible to tell when he or she or it wore that battle suit.

Despite his reassurances to Negasi, Jeridan wouldn't mind wearing one of those himself while making this deal.

Like before, Dean's door opened as they approached. He was, of course, watching them on the cameras. Probably had been ever since they stepped off the Antikythera.

Dean sat behind his desk, hands folded across his paunch, looking stone cold sober.

Must have taken Party's Over too. Poor guy.

Jeridan flung his arms wide. "Dean! Sorry we had to cut the drinking session short. All work and no play, huh?"

Dean grunted. He looked in a fouler mood than usual, not that Jeridan could blame him. The security man turned to his gunner.

"Hey, Negasi. Still hanging out with this loser?"

"Someone's got to keep him alive," Negasi replied.

"Sit," Dean said. He pushed a button, and two uncomfortable-looking chairs rose out of the floor.

They sat. Dean leaned forward, his hands on the table, fingers interlaced.

"So … how many crates you got?"

"How many can your contact take?"

"As many as you got."

Deep pockets? Good.

"Let's talk price before we talk volume," Jeridan said.

"These are standard crates? Sixteen bottles, each holding 750 ml?"

"We wouldn't try to pass off demis on you."

Dean grunted. "Not if you value your life, you wouldn't. My connection will pay ten thousand credits per crate."

Jeridan felt a stirring in his pants. Nevertheless, he put on a frown.

"Ten thousand? For a crate of Sagitta Prime whiskey? Come on, Dean. You tasted that stuff. It's the real deal."

Dean got misty eyed for a moment. "Oh yes, it's the real deal." Then his face went hard. "But we got expenses too. He's got to bribe coworkers. The Dockers Guild gets their cut. The bars will all want to pay less than standard because they'll smell a rat. And then there's all the risk. We need to keep a decent margin."

"So do we," Jeridan said. "We ran a lot of risk getting that stuff off planet. You ever been to Sagitta Prime? They're a bunch of hardasses."

"I know, but you want information thrown into the deal. So it's ten thousand or nothing."

"You got information to offer?" Negasi asked.

"Sure. Of course, I don't know anything about the Antikythera and her crew before they arrived or after they left, but I can give you camera feeds and some scuttlebutt I gathered here and there."

"We're especially interested in Nova's husband," Jeridan said.

Confusion flickered over Dean's face. "Husband?"

"Derren Bradford."

"Oh, right. Owner of the Antikythera. I got some intel on him."

Why the confusion? You must have known they were married. You make it your business to know this stuff.

Or were they married?

"So do we have a deal?" Dean asked.

"If you can go to twelve thousand a crate we do," Jeridan said.

"Ten thousand five hundred," Dean countered.

"Eleven thousand."

Pause. Jeridan could see Dean doing some mental mathematics. "All right."

Jeridan looked at Negasi, who gave a little nod.

Jeridan extended a hand. "Dean, you got yourself a deal."

They shook. Negasi shook Dean's hand too.

"So when can we get the credits and the info?" Jeridan asked.

"Give me two hours. I just need to clear it with my contact, transfer the money through a third party, and also gather your intel."

Damn, that's going to interfere with seeing the data hacker. Negasi could handle that, but I don't want to finalize the transfer of the whiskey alone.

"Make it three," Jeridan said.

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"We have something to do."

"And that doesn't involve flying to the Oort Cloud?"

A return trip would take longer than three hours.

"Um, no."

Dean grunted. "I didn't believe that story anyway. But why lie? You think I'd raid your vessel?"

I wouldn't put it past you.

"So three hours?" Jeridan asked.

"At your airlock. I'll be bringing a couple of people."

Suspicion rose in him.

"Why?" Jeridan demanded.

Dean gave an innocent shrug. "Someone's got to carry all those crates. You think I'd leave them lying around for even a minute? Not in this place."

"No body armor. No rifles."

"Same with you," Dean shot back.

"Fair enough."

Jeridan and Negasi rose.

"See you then."

Dean smiled and spread out his hands. "Don't look so worried. It's just a business deal. Everything will go fine."

Nothing ever goes fine when you're involved.