We arrived outside of a non-descript doorway. There was no indication that it was a shop of any kind. “You’re not trying to pull a fast one here are you, dude?” I said, suspiciously.
He looked shocked, “No! I want the money you offered.”
Shrugging and taking him at his word, we entered the shop of the body dealer. Inside wasn’t actually too bad; It was clean and didn’t smell of death at all. A slender, blue alien with a tall forehead that was home to an extra pair of eyes stood behind the counter. He spoke as Ember floated the body in, “Ooh, nice specimen. A Grobar! Put him up here please,” he said, indicating a trolly bed next to his front desk.
Ember plonked him on top of it unceremoniously, and the dead alien farted. I couldn’t help but snigger. I was alone in this.
The body buying alien pulled khuout a pair of super spectacles. Yes, the full four lenses. We all waited silently as the body was examined. “How was the sternum broken?” they asked.
“I did it. I wasn’t expecting his sternum to be so long?”
He seemed to ignore my answer as he continued his inspection. “Hmm. The neck break is clean. Very nice work indeed. No blood loss. I pay extra for that. Very good,” he muttered half to himself, as he rustled under the counter. He counted out twenty senlars and slid them over. The little creep who brought us here was practically salivating.
“If you make any more cadavers, please do come back.”
“Oh, we will,” Ember said happily.
We left the shop and Ember handed over two senlar coins to the creep.
“You’re a good, tough fighter. If you want to make more corpses I’ll show you a good bar for fighting,” said the creep.
“No thanks,” I said, and Ember nodded her agreement with me.
“I don’t actually like killing, despite everything,” I said to Ember.
“I know you don’t, Shaun,” she said soothingly, then looked to our guide.
“Do you know any good pilots?” she asked him.
“For another senlar I do.”
“You just got two for next to nothing.”
“Give me another senlar and I’ll tell you,” he grinned. “If you don’t, I’ll tell everyone I meet that you’re carrying at least eighteen senlar around.”
I was a little surprised, and massively annoyed that the little shit had tried to blackmail us. Quick as a flash I grabbed him by the neck. “Do not threaten and blackma…”
He pulled a knife in a smooth motion, going straight to stab me. I was quicker, straightening my arm to hold him at distance. The knife stabbed into my arm, but the sudden jerking move somehow, completely accidently I might add, broke his neck.
I was momentarily stunned. “Shit, not again,” I groaned. “I’m going to have to start being really careful with my Strength.”
Ember patted me on the back. “Still glad you’re on my side, you damn brute,” she chuckled, which made me feel worse.
Taking the two senlar back out of his pocket, plus the few arlars the dangling corpse already had on him, Ember then nodded for me to go back into the corpse-collectors shop.
Five minutes later we were back out with another twelve senlar coins. Apparently, that was not quite so impressive a specimen. Nevertheless, yay for no blood loss!
“How's your arm?” Ember asked.
“I totally forgot about that,” I said, as I lifted my arm to inspect the wound.
“Don’t worry, it's healed Shaun. I did it straight away,” Havok said.
“Thanks Havok,” I replied, but still wiped the blood away to inspect. Like he’d said, the wound was gone, now I just needed the suit to repair itself.
We set off down the street back towards the Fulinast Strike when Ember nudged me. “The first thug had nine senlar and a few arlars on him. With what we just earned we now have forty-three senlars and four arlars. We’re in the money. Now, let’s go and find a pilot.”
I nodded in agreement, but added, “After we’ve something to eat.”
“Damn right! My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut,” she laughed.
We had a meal, then spent a few hours going from bar to bar with no luck. In the end we had no choice but to admit defeat and head back to the ship for the night. We agreed it was better than a hotel, mainly because it was free. If you didn’t include the docking fee, which we’d be paying, anyway. It seemed about the safest place to sleep too.
It wasn’t until we got back on board that I remembered the food synthesizers were empty. I mean, we’d had a big ass meal once we had money, but I could have definitely eaten again before bed. I sighed, but accepted it could wait until the following day. We went to bed after an exhausting day of landing a spacecraft we couldn’t even fly and trawling bars for pilots. Not to mention adding two more kills to my ever increasing tally.
The next morning, we spoke to the supervisor about getting the ship refueled and restocked. He hummed and hawed, looking at a pad with a schematic of our ship. “Two senlar each. For fuel and synthesis materials.” he declared.
“Four senlar! Are you kidding me!” Ember screeched.
“No, no. Sorry. My mistake. I meant two senlar for both.” He’d obviously tried to take us for the fools we were, but Ember’s reaction made it clear we knew enough. Even though we didn’t. She was totally bluffing.
“Super. Make it happen,” she smiled, as we headed off to hit the bars again.
We weren’t relishing it after yesterday, but needs must when the devil drives. There were a few tentative positives, but they soon lost interest when we told them we were travelling to the Fystr Empire. “Shaun,” Ember stopped me on the street between our fourth and fifth bar, “no one’s taking us back to Earth here. We should really rethink this whole thing.”
“What else can we do?”
“Maybe we need to make more money first. Perhaps get a better ship?”
“A different ship. Why?”
“Shaun, that ship is shit. You know it’s not supposed to rattle, right? I mean, it’ll do for now. Only, I don’t want that ship to be the only thing between me and a quick space funeral.”
“I suppose I can see your point. Even so, how would we be able to get another ship?”
“I don’t know. Maybe do some jobs in the area to earn some money, then find a crew, or at the very least learn to fly the damn thing. I wonder if we can get any missions here. I dunno. Even delivering messages, or maybe mercenaries for hire. You’ll make a killing.”
“Ha! Real funny. Let’s lay out what you’re saying here. You think we won’t find an opportunist, mercenary, alien pilot to fly us halfway across the galaxy in a rust bucket that probably won’t make it back to Earth. Which is either surrounded by advanced Fystr war ships, or is a desolate wasteland reduced back to the Stone Age?”
“We could try to find Ogun?”
“Not for me. I really did like the guy, Ember, but I just don’t trust him anymore. This is the second time he’s deserted us. I wouldn’t leave anyone behind if I could help it.”
“Well, we’re normally massively outmatched. If we go by your logic we’d have all died on Earth because Ogun wouldn’t leave anyone behind.”
“He’s proven to me twice now that we are expendable. Now, all I am saying is I don’t ever want to be in a position where you’re expendable.”
“Or you,” she replied.
“I couldn’t give a fuck about me, but no one is putting you in danger without giving you full support and, as it stands, I only trust me and Havok to guarantee that.”
“You big softie. I doubt we could find them anyway. Even so, I’m happy being with you. You're right about one thing. I know you have my back,” she said, leaning into my arm.
“Maybe we’ll come across them again. I’d like to see Mick and Gus. They’re pretty stand-up guys. Still, you’re right. For now, we need to focus on surviving and building up some money.”
She gave me a firm nod, “Well, let’s find a job, then maybe we can find a pilot.”
/> C11
Outcasts
With our fresh outlook and tactic change, the next bar we went into actually yielded results of a kind. We were told that the docking area had multiple job boards. “How did we miss that?” I said to Ember.
“Cause we can’t fucking read alien, dipshit.”
“Oh, yeah. Good point. So, what are we gonna do about that?”
“Something will come up. Always does around you.”
We went back to the docks and walked past the entrance to go in the other direction. There we saw what we guessed were job boards. We walked over and started perusing them, instinctively pretending we could read the lingo and that we knew exactly what we were doing.
After a few moments, I looked over to Ember and grinned. She tried to avoid my gaze, but I saw a smile creep across her face before she turned to me laughing. “Well, we looked like we knew what we were doing there for a minute,” she chuckled.
“Yeah, but come on. This is bloody gibberish. At this rate we’ll need to hire a translator to read this shit before we can get a job or any crew.”
“Did you say you need a crew?” a lean, muscular, orange skinned alien asked.
There were a number of horns protruding from his head and he had a ragged look about him. He began walking quickly towards us from further down the boards. If it wasn’t for his dirty clothes, or rather rags, he’d have cut a pretty imposing figure.
“What’s it to you?” Ember retorted, sharply.
“Woah! Just looking for work,” he replied, holding his hands out to show he wasn’t threatening. It looked quite funny as he towered over Ember. I suppose to an onlooker she was backed up by me with a big ass axe, somehow invisibly attached to my back.
“What do you do?” Ember enquired, cooling slightly.
“I’m a mechanic, but I can handle a gun in a jam too.”
“Sorry. Only we need a pilot for now.”
“I can fly any ship!” he said, enthusiastically. “What happened to your pilot?”
“Disappeared,” Ember said. “Haven’t seen him for weeks.” Which was the truth, kinda.
“Man, that sucks. Did he run, or do you suspect foul play?”
“Don’t know” Ember said, moving the conversation on. “So, you fly?”
There was a moment of uncertainty on his face, then I saw him visibly straighten up and compose himself. “Yeah, guys. You can’t fix it if you don’t know how it works. How big’s this ship anyway? How much crew?”
Ember answered, “Ship holds six. Currently a crew of two.”
I hadn’t even spoken yet. Nevertheless, she was doing a great job dealing with him.
“Small outfit. I can deal with that, and you’ll definitely want someone who has a diverse skill set, especially when you’re flying a small crew. What job are you taking?” he asked, while indicating the boards.
“Just started looking,” Ember said. “And, we can only pay a percentage of the job's value. How are you normally paid?”
“Yeah. That’s cool. I’ll take a third.”
“You can have a third of the profits,” Ember said with a smile.
“You got me there, lady. I can see I’ll struggle getting one over you. Tall, light, and silent over there, maybe not so much.”
“He’s cleverer than he looks,” she said.
“Well, that ain’t going to be hard. So, you’re the captain?”
“Nope. He is.” She gestured at me.
“Figures,” he said, deflating slightly, and probably realizing he should have been nicer about me. He continued, “If you ain’t picked a job yet, there’s one just come up. Perfect for a little ship. It’s well paid, but risky. I’m game if you are.”
“Which one?” she asked.
He sidled up to the board and whipped a piece of paper from it. “This one here. Transport a prisoner from here to Weka Four. Three-hundred senlar. It’s a fair trip that takes around three weeks.”
“Sounds good. Are you okay with this, Shaun?”
“Yeah. Let’s do it,” I replied.
“How do we claim the job?” Ember asked.
He looked at her quizzically. “You go to the prison. Can’t you read?”
“Not this shit,” she replied.
“This is the galactic standard.”
“Not where we’re from, it’s not.”
“Right. Are you guys Fystr? You look like what I’ve heard, only you don’t seem like pompous dick-bags.”
“No. We’re humans, not Fystr. You might say we’re their slaves.”
“Ooh. Tough ride. You should learn the lingo though. There are a lot of double dealers in these parts.”
“We lack a few bits of information, but we’re not stupid.”
“And if you double cross us, the whole fucking galaxy won’t save you,” I finally added in a menacing tone.
“Whoa! Steady, big guy. I’m not trying it on. We’re good, yeah?”
“We’re good, if you’re good.”
“Yeah, I’m above board. It’s been a while since my last job. I’m excited to be part of the team, you know. How about you show me this ship of yours? I’m Calegg, by the way.”
“I’m Ember, and this is Shaun. Nice to meet you.”
Moments later... “Fuck me! This hunk of shit is the ship?”
“Yes. This is the ship,” Ember said, tersely.
“I mean it could be worse, just not by much. I should’ve asked for more pay.”
“You’re getting a third, shit-for-brains. You can fuck off if it’s that bad!” Ember said.
He seemed to ignore her statement and carried on regardless, “I gotta ask; do you have any money for repairs? Because this baby here isn’t making it to Weka Four. Not in three weeks, not ever. Even with repairs it’s gonna take us about four weeks minimum.”
“That bad, huh?” I said.
Ember gave me a black look.
“Oh! It speaks!” Calegg said smirking at me.
This prompted strong words from Havok in my head, “Kill this motherfucker now, and be done with it.”
“Calegg, cool it with the lip. Havok wants to kill you and I don’t know if I want to stop him. Now, write a list of all the things you’ll need to get this ship space worthy.” I turned and spoke with Ember, “How much can we spare on repairs?”
“Fifteen senlar,” she replied.
I held back a smile. I knew we had at least double that.
“Get what you can with that, Calegg. We’ll go and get our prisoner.”
Calegg nodded in acceptance of what I’d said, then added, “Do you have a cell to keep them in?”
“I’m sure a man of your skillset can come up with something,” I replied.
“Yeah. Even so, not that quickly, and not without tools and materials.”
“We’ll see if we can buy a cage,” I said, while nodding to Ember for us to leave.
As we passed the supervisor I asked if we could get a prisoner transport cage. Apparently, this was as easy as ordering a sandwich. It was going to cost a senlar though. We paid him and told him to deliver it to Calegg, our new pilot. Then we left for the prison.
It looked like any other large building on this planet. The whole place must have used the same architect. Once inside, things got more uncomfortable. We entered into a long corridor and were greeted by a putrid smell permeating the place. Grunts and inhuman screams rang out. It was a pretty horrifying place, all told.
We made our way to the door at the other end of the corridor, as no other options presented themselves. Once through, we entered a sort of reception area. I say ‘sort of’ because it was just a medium sized, bare room with an opening in the wall and the vague outline of another door.
There must have been some sort of alarm to notify the re-blob-tionist as moments after we entered a fat slime-alien slowly appeared behind the opening. It was the most inhuman-like creature I’d seen so far, and it stunk of farts strong enough to compete with the other smells in the place. “Business?�
� it asked in a very strange screeching voice. I had no idea where that voice came from. I sure couldn’t see a mouth anywhere.
“I’ve a job to transport a prisoner from the dock jobs board,” I stated.
“Yes. I know the one. It was only put up an hour ago. Wait here. I will have them brought out.”
“Well, this is easy so far,” I said to Ember.
“You’ve probably jinxed us now,” she grumped.
“With the lives we’ve led, I doubt jinxing is an option. We’re lost in a distant part of the galaxy with a race of supremely powerful aliens hunting us down, while simultaneously destroying our home planet.”
“Yin and yang, Shaun. We used to be broken lumps of human misery and now we’ve superhuman powers, a spaceship, and a job. And the Fystr aren’t hunting us; they’re hunting Ogun and the crew. We could do well out here. I don’t know about you... well, actually I do, but life was a sack of shit for me on Earth. If I was by myself I’d probably want to go back, but I’ve got you, you big handsome killing machine. Who’d kill a whole planet and die just as happily, just to protect me? There’s nothing left there for me.”
“Yep. That’s me,” I said smugly. “There’s definitely been positives, still, ‘broken lumps of human misery’ is laying it on a bit thick. Don’t you think? And, I do still feel bad just leaving Earth to be reduced to rubble.”
“I feel the same. Only, rather than try to do the impossible, let’s just spend a little time strengthening our own position before making any rash moves.”
I was about to agree but the prisoner was brought out, so I just gave her a wink.
I was expecting a brutish, scared, and scary-looking alien. However, the one we got was a small slender human-looking man or woman, though I really couldn’t tell which. When I say human-looking, it was important to mention they were a kind of indigo color with a few mildly unusual ridges on their face. They also had a mask covering their mouth, so to be honest, they could’ve had a bear snout for all I knew.
“Here is the prisoner,” the slimy blob said.
Condition Evolution 2: A LitRPG / Gamelit Adventure Page 14