Trizzka Troubles
“What is this?!” The dealer drew his pistol from its holster and aimed at the man, his companions did the same.
Nervously the man smiled back at the dealer, “Um, I uh, what seems to be the problem?” beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
“You promised me, spice! I paid you for spice! What is this?!” Shouted the dealer waving his gun at the opened case on the table between him and the man.
The man sighed and relaxed almost instantly, “Oh, is that it.” He nonchalantly drops into the chair behind him and kicks his boots up onto the table. “I thought it might be something I should be worried about.” Slowly he circled two of the fingers on his right hand in the palm of his left.
The dealer was completely thrown off, he had the advantage hadn’t he? The sudden casual manner of the man seemed to suggest otherwise. Of course, the dealer couldn’t hear the voice coming through the man’s earpiece. The gesture the man was making caused the dealers gills to itch, he had a feeling he was being insulted. Human gestures were always so confusing.
The dealer made the deadly mistake of lowering his gun for just a moment.
A broad smile spread across the man’s face, as he moved his fingers to his wrist and pressed the button hidden there. A helmet quickly formed around his head.
The dealer and his companions aimed at him again and pulled the trigger, or would have, had the wall beside them not exploded and they not been sucked into space.
The man cast his right arm out and caught the handle on the side of the ship responsible for the destruction. He slipped inside as the airlock door closed behind him.
Turning quickly, the ship shot off away from the station with a fleet of small cruisers giving chase.
When the airlock door opened the captain walked onto his ship, removed his helmet, and threw himself in the seat beside the pilot.
Without turning, “How’d the trade go?” Drake asked.
The captain shrugged, “They didn’t like the spice.”
The pilot shot a quick look at the captain, “Cinnamon isn’t spice.”
“It’s A spice!” the captain reasoned. He looked away to the screen showing the ships behind them, “Was she worth it?”
The pilot smiled and looked to his instruments. “They’re jamming our FTL,” He commented.
The captain shouted backward into the ship, “McCall, they’ve had enough fun for the day.”
“Yes, sir,” came a call from somewhere within the ship.
A small object was dropped from the back of the ship, it did nothing until the pursuers neared, then it flared and sent out a pulse that scrambled their navigation, shut off their engines and changed all their screensavers to a dancing pineapple.
The captain got up from his chair and headed to his quarters, a beep came from the console beside Drake.
“Cap, you’ve got a call.” said the pilot.
a disgruntled sigh escaped the captain’s lips, “Of course there is. Transfer it to me quarters,” he added, “and don’t answer it before you do. She’s already threatened to shoot me, I’d rather she not have a reason to hunt me down and do it.”
He tossed his long brown coat over his chair, poured himself a glass of blue liqueur, and threw himself heavily into the seat before answering the call.
“Every time I hear your name, Jack, I hear something I’m not going to like.” Said the face of an indigo-skinned woman on the monitor.
“You were rather quick this time, nothing better to do but chastise me?” Replied the captain leaning back and taking a drink.
“Actually I was calling you for a different reason, I got the report of what happened just before you answered. Why is there a hole in the side of my station Jack?”
“Hey,” said Jack raising his arms defensively, “wasn’t my idea. I just came to make a small transaction, I can’t help it if your men attack my ship while I’m not even on it.”
“She was the security captain’s wife, jack. Next time can you please tell your pilot to keep it in his pants. My insurance company is thinking about qualifying you as a natural disaster, just so they don’t have to cover the devastation you bring with you. Don’t get me started on Frank you know how he gets with anthropomorphic fruit.”
“Frank was on the station?” the captain asked with honest surprise. “I thought he was stationed on Omega.”
“He and his family moved out last month, to escape a certain criminal element.”
“Well, I’ll have to send him a fruit basket or something.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
“Right, better not.” After a moment’s thought, he inquired, “So what was it you were calling me for?”
“Believe it or not, I have a job for you.”
“Really, now?”
“There’s a man who needs some less-than-legal goods transported, he asked for you.”
“For me?” The captain was suspicious, most people didn’t ask for him directly, well, most people didn’t ask for him at all, he was what they got stuck with.
“Yes, for you.”
“Did he have a referral card? I never thought anyone would actually use those. I mean, don’t I owe someone something now?”
“no one uses your stupid cards, Jack. He said he liked the name of your ship.”
“My ship,” asked the astonished captain, “No, thank you. I don’t think I’ll take this one, can’t be doing business with people just because they fancy what you call the thing you fly around in, that’s just weird.”
“He’s offering a lot of money.”
“How much?”
She told him.
“Drake,” said the captain as he emerged from his quarters, “set course for Omega. We’ve got ourselves a new best friend.”
***
The Morningstar pulls into the Omega dock. Jack exits rather excitedly in hopes of catching a glimpse of the kind of person who would throw down that kinda money for smuggling, but the only person he saw on the docking platform was a large grubby old hunchback who stared at Jack’s ship too fondly.
“Oi!” shouted the captain, “That’s expensive hardware you keeps your hands clear of it, ya hear me.”
The man reached what would have been a gloved hand if the glove hadn’t rotten down to rags toward where the ship’s name was emblazoned on the hull. Jack was surprised the man’s hand didn’t leave a trail of grime where it touched his ship. “She told me you wouldn’t accept,” said the man as he turned toward the captain, “but I told her I knew what to offer to get you to take my request.”
Jack was poker-faced.
The man smiled, “I know I don’t look like someone with a great life and a horde of money, but I’m not stupid, if I came to Omega looking like I did, I’d likely not leave with either.” After a pause, “Apologies,” said the man extending a grubby hand toward the captain, “You can call me Sam.”
Jack didn’t like to shake hands with people, especially grubby people, always felt he was entering a contract he wasn’t prepared for. He didn’t like fine print.
Sam lowered his hand when the captain made it clear he wasn’t going to take it. “Enough pleasantries for now, let’s get down to business.” Leading Jack toward a traveler’s café, Sam continued, “Now the Galactic Alliance, more importantly the Human Empire, have a stockpile of the crop Septatriticale-”
“Septa-what-what?”
“Septatriticale, Jack, it’s a grain which flourishes rather well on a Holly’s planet, whose ownership is currently under dispute between the Galactic Alliance and the Galactic Coalition, more precisely, between the Human Empire and the Thun’Cera Republic.”
“I don’t see what any of this has to do with me,” said Jack taking a seat, at one of the outer tables of the Café, and watching Sam doing a strange crab-like walk forward as the large man took his seat on a backless stool across the table from Jack.
“I’ll get to that, I just thought you’d like some background so you can make an informed decision, as to whether or not you would take the job I’m offering.”
“Right, right,” said Jack turning away and waving his hand. “Go on.”
“Now the Human Empire has promised the grain to Holly’s Planet, and the government of the Planet will likely vote in favor of joining the Galactic Alliance. I have friends who would like that not to happen, well more specifically, not as the humans would have it happen.” Sam produced a vial containing a bright blue liquid. “This is a chemical compound made to alter the viability of Septatriticale.”
“You want me to poison the stockpiles? That’s not exactly my kind of work.”
“No, no, of course not. I’d not ask you to deliver poison, what I want you to do is deliver this,” he hands Jack a small sack of grain. “This grain has been treated with the compound. All I need you to do is deliver it to K6 station, more specifically the secretary to the station administrator.”
Jack looked quizzically at the sack, “And that’s not poison?” He poked the sack cautiously as though it would explode.
“No poison, it’s modified but not toxic. The Human Empire would still be upset if they found it. Fortunately for you the starship Engagement will be the only Human ship near the station, and they’re likely to go by without cause. Should be easy money for you and your crew.”
Jack eyed the man suspiciously, he’d almost pass for human but the way he used the word was clearly indicative of not being so. “What part do you play in this, and why is it worth so much to you?”
“I’ll give you ten percent upfront to ask no more questions.”
“Twenty!” The captain may have been sceptical, but he knew a negotiable price when he heard it.
“Eleven,” replied Sam.
“Nineteen!”
“Thirteen, and that’s the most you’ll get from me.”
After a thoughtful pause and mock internal deliberation, Jack appeared to reluctantly agree to the price, knowing full well that even ten percent was well over the standard pay he’d receive from a job. However, the captain did not want the old man to be aware of this, lest he felt he can get away with paying Jack less than his original offer. Jack could only assume that he was paying so much because he believed the crew of the Morningstar was worth the cost, he intended to get as much money out of him as possible before Sam realized the error.
After hands were shaken, contacts were given, and accounts were balanced, Jack returned to the bridge. Drake took them out of the dock and set out. It was only then that Jack dropped the stoic, mildly reluctant face he’d worn around Sam for a smile that spread ear to ear.
“What’s got you so chipper,” asked Drake, with a concerned brow raise.
Jack started to laugh to himself, “H-He’s giving us thirteen percent in advance!”
Drake’s mouth dropped open in stunned silence. “Th-thir-thirteen percent!?!” he shouted after some time. “Does he know who we are?”
“I don’t know,” was all Jack could give as a response. He felt half manic. How could anyone be willing to give Jack, Captain of the Starship Morningstar, that much money, in advance.
Drake then asked the important question, “Are we really going to do the job?”
Jack paused for a moment, they could just leave with the money, he’s not exactly got a sterling reputation for being good at what he does. In fact, his crew is quite known for being rather incompetent. They usually got by getting the job done well enough for the client to feel guilty about not paying them. Even then, however, not one of those clients even came close to what the old hunchback was paying.
“You know what,” he said, “I think we will.”
With that, Drake set course for K6.
***
As they traveled Jack couldn’t help but find himself wondering once again the old man’s species. He worked with non-humans, Hell everything McCall’s been through, he needs a certificate to even prove that he once was human, and Drake, well he was close enough where it mattered in his relations, but he wasn’t human. He’s met the Feline Thun’Cera before and seen the reptilian Dryghuln, but he’d never seen an alien quite like Sam. He was almost human, but just slightly not.
Jack was startled from his ponderings by a sudden claxon blare. “What’s happening?” he asked trying to reorganize his thoughts enough to be sure of where he was.
“It’s a ship,” said Drake with some alarm in his voice. “They’ve powered weapons!”
“What? why? have we been here before? do they recognize us?”
“They’re hailing us.”
Jack looked frantically at the controls before him before spotting the flashing button. He pressed it, and hastily shouted, “It wasn’t me!”
On the view screen before him appeared a puzzled human face. “What wasn’t you?” it asked.
“What? oh uhh, nothing. Sorry, was talking to someone else,” said Jack attempting to appear nonchalant.
“Riiiiiight,” replied the face after a long pause. “State your business.”
The captain looked at his pilot for a minute, who just shrugged in response. “Trade?” Jack said cautiously.
The face looked away at some other displays Jack could only assume were nearby, he looked back at Jack with suspicion, there was a conversation that Jack could only hear mumbled pieces of, something about what sounded like a dirk. After awhile he just looked back to the captain and said, “You’re cleared to dock. You are to use docking bay C, and stay out of trouble.”
“Thanks,” Jack looked to Drake who just gave him another shrug, and they sailed into the bay. “That was weird.”
“Yup,” replied Drake.
Jack noticed a large imperial ship docked with the station.
***
Disembarking his ship Jack had his charge tucked into a secret pocket in his sleeve. He noted the large amount of Human security officers moving about the station.
Turning to McCall and Drake, “Try not to cause too much trouble. There are a lot of Imps here and I’d rather not get us caught.”
“I thought there weren’t supposed to be this many Imps here,” commented Drake.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t get in our way,” the captain replied. “Head to the bar and find out what you can without drawing too much attention. I’ll see if I can find our contact.”
After a moment's thought Jack added, “And Drake, don’t go near any married women. I’d rather not have to try and outrun an Imperial ship.”
Drake sighed, “Fine,” he said like an exasperated teenager, “take all my fun.”
Jack returned him a stern look that didn’t let up until Drake and McCall walked, or sloshed, in the case of McCall, toward the bar. Once out of sight of their captain the two of them eased up a bit.
“Cap’s a bit tense.” Said McCall.
“Didn’t expect the imps, I’d guess,” replied Drake. “They make this job rather risky.”
Entering the bar, Drake was struck by the length of the waitresses’ skirts, or rather, the lack there of. “You know,” he said turning speaking to McCall while his eyes were locked firmly on the backside of a nearby redhead. “The servers are usually more aware of what’s going on. You go talk to the bartender, I’m going to check with the waiters.”
Drake went off, and McCall headed toward the bar, where a few imperials and a large man in an ill-fitting coat with far too many pockets were talking with the bartender. The large man was trying to sell something.
“I’ve told you before,” insisted the bartender, “I don’t want any more gentry water gems! Thanks to you, I already have enough to last an eternity.”
“Sad for you my friend you won’t find a finer stone anywhere! but I have something better,” the large man turned and unzipped on of his many pockets. “Thusly you want some chuberian dark water!” he said, producing a small bottle of dark colored liquid and holding to the toward the bartender enticingly.
The bartender rolled his eyes and tapped his fingers on the bar, “I use that to polish the water gems,” he said uninterested.
“You’re a difficult man,” said the large man in his ill fitting suit. “surely you’ll want this!” He reached into another oddly placed pocket. “Something from the far reaches of the galaxy!” He produced a small ball of fur with large eyeballs, and strange amphibian-like legs.
“Not at your price,” the bartender immediately responded.
“What is it?” asked one of the Imperials with a look of utter disgust on her face. “Is it alive?”
The large man held it out to her, and she recoiled in response. The strange thing made an odd purring sound that may have been cute, had the creature not been so oddly shapen. instead it made it just appear even stranger.
“Keep that thing away from me,” she said, “It’s disgusting.”
McCall could only look at the thing in wonder, “What is it?” he asked.
“Why my good man, it’s a Trizzka,” replied the large man, before turning to look at his questioner, “What are you?” he said in shocked horror, when he had beholden McCall, or more precisely, what McCall was now.
Ignoring the question, McCall took the odd thing from the man with one of the tentacles hanging from his chest, and locked it over. It purred at him. “How much?” asked McCall.
The man looked at the creature before him, “Just take it,” he said. He wanted the money of course, but after McCall had oozed on his merchandise, he didn’t exactly want it back. More importantly he didn’t want to know where McCall kept his money, and wouldn’t want to touch it even if he did.
Happily McCall, having forgotten his mission, took the little creature with him back to the ship. Meanwhile Drake had also forgotten his mission, but for a completely different reason. Luckily for both of them their captain would get the answers he sought from his contact. Unfortunately for him, this was going to make his job quite a bit harder.
***
As Jack headed down a hallway a large angry Thun stormed out the room ahead of him with a group of imps following behind. The Thun only gave the captain the briefest of looks, enough to confirm he wasn’t another imp. This gave Jack the answer to why there were so many imps, but not why the Thun’Cera would be here. Shortly after the Thun passed came an Imperial, his head held high and the well kept green suit of command. He seemed mildly familiar to Jack, but he couldn’t place it.
The commander gave the captain a look that seemed almost like recognition. Clearly they had met before but neither seemed really able to place when. Jack usually avoided dealing with Imps, he had an inborn distrust toward authority.
Jack raised his hand in a vague greeting. The commander only reply was a sneer before turning away and continuing past Jack.
Sitting there momentarily to try and remember the commander’s name, it was something that sounded like jerk, or maybe that was just what Jack wanted it to be.
The captain continued down toward the room at the end of the hallway. There were two men arguing by a desk in the back, one of them noticed Jack entering and headed over.
Davrin Nare, the stations administrator's secretary, recognized Jack as Sam’s courier mostly by the oddity of his dress.
“You’re late!” He hissed as he pulled the captain to the side where the administrator was unlikely to hear them. “The Administrator sent out an alert and called the Engagement here. So now this place is crawling with Imperials, making this worse, for some reason a group of Thun’Cera decided to take shore leave! There are now guards on watching the grain constantly!”
“Woah, Woah!” said Jack raising his arms defensively, “I don’t see what that has to do with me, my only job was to get this to you.” He pulled the sack from his hidden pocket and held it out to the secretary.
Davrin snatched it up angrily and shook it in the captain’s face. “This doesn’t matter if I can’t get it passed the guards! If you don’t help me, I’ll turn to the imps and tell them what you’re doing here.”
“You wouldn’t!” Jack could only imagine the interrogation the imperials would give him. “I’d give you all up, you and Sam!”
“You honestly don’t believe that would work, do you?” He asked giving the captain a look that confirmed it wouldn’t.
***
Back at the ship McCall sat with his new pet, he was feeding it or assumed he was, as the thing didn’t have an obvious mouth, but it did consume food placed nearby it. McCall noticed the creature seemed to be growing rather quickly.
***
A bit later when Drake returned and found McCall surrounded by a large group of the strange creatures. “What are those?” He asked, his face a mashed combination of fascination, disgust, and curiosity.
McCall replied with a look that may have been mild embarrassment but could only be described as goopy.
***
It would be quite some time later when the captain arrived and found the floor of his ship littered with the things. He immediately knew who was responsible. “McCall?”
“Over here captain!” called a voice from the back of the ship.
The captain looked towards the closed door with trepidation.
“I wouldn’t go in there,” said Drake having appeared to the captain’s left, his face a mask of frozen horror. “They don’t stop Cap, they just keep breeding. We tried killing them, it only gave them food. They just started breeding faster.”
Jack looked back at the closed door, after a moment’s hesitation, headed down and opened it. Trizzka poured out of the doorway, within seconds he was buried waist high in the things.
Locking his gaze on the large green eye before him, the rest lost in the pile of trizzka, “Get these things, off my Ship.” His look brokered no argument as the captain struggled to move and shuffle through the ugly creatures as he left.
With their captain gone, Drake looked to McCall’s revealed eye, “How are we supposed to do that?”
A movement that was somewhere between osmosis and a sort of slopping shuffle, McCall transitioned out of the pile of Trizzka. “I think I have an idea,” he said heading toward a nearly unused section of the ship.
***
The captain sat down heavily at a table in the bar, sitting across from some Thun’Cera, some imps at the table behind them. The large man in an ill-fitting suit with too many pockets behind him at the bar.
A large Thun twisted his whiskers and looked up at Jack, “Terrans like their uniforms don’t they?”
Jack looked over to the imps behind the Thun, Jack wasn’t a Terran, he wasn’t part of the empire, sure he was Human, but he was a colony boy, and the Empire had little love for colony boys. Thankfully the imps always wore their uniforms, making it rather easy for people to distinguish the colonials from the Terrans. “That they do,” he replied.
“I’ve never quite liked Terrans.” Thun’Cera didn’t usually wear uniforms of rank, more just seemed to dress as they wanted. Making it rather hard for someone outside the Thun’Cera to recognize social standing. Jack, of course, never bothered himself with it much, as outside his ship each man’s standing was their own, and aboard his ship, his was the only standing that mattered.
“They remind me of Noguler toeworms.” continued the Thun. This brought a laugh from the others at the table and a smile from the captain.
One of the Imps seemed to get rather angry about it, but the Imp directly behind the large Thun seemed to intercede, causing the other to hesitate and kept his seat.
“Oh! I just remembered, there is one Terran who doesn’t remind me of Noguler Toeworm, The Commander of the Engagement. Toeworms are spongy, The commander might be a sauntering, blustering, imperious, tyrant with delusions of godhood! but he is not spongy.”
The angry imp swallowed his drink in one gulp and began to rise, the man across from him grabbed him and said, “Calm down Jones, everyone is entitled to their opinion,”
“You heard what he said about the commander,” the angered imp protested.
“we’re man enough to handle some insults.”
Jack was curious as to why the imp was being so diplomatic, he must have orders to keep the peace. The Captain studied the man, but even being ordered to keep the peace, the insults should have had some effect on him. Then there it was, the color of his uniform, the deep blue of engineering. That’s why he was being so diplomatic, engineers had a special way of thinking about their ships. Sure the commander was in charge, but the engineer owned the ship, he knew how it really functioned. Suddenly Jack realized how to create the distraction the secretary needed.
Jack leaned forward, and speaking low so only the Thun in front of him could hear, he whispered “The ship.”
The Thun gave him a moment’s glance that confirmed he’d got the message. He stood up and was now directly beside the engineer. “Now, I’d say the Commander really deserves his ship, we like the Engagement, we really do.” He added laughing.
As the engineer visibly tensed, Jack saw it as his moment to slip away.
“That old, run-down ship is designed like a garbage receptacle. Half the galaxy knows it, that’s why they’re joining the Coalition.” he finished with a laugh.
The Engineer sat rigid, “You thinkin’ about rephrasing that?” he asked the Thun, his tone deadly serious.
Whether the Thun noticed the tone he gave no indication. “I’m sorry he said, you’re right. I shouldn’t have said the Engagement was a Garbage receptacle. I meant it belongs IN a Garbage receptacle.”
The engineer moved quickly and it was only a second before the large Thun was flying over the table, the engineer on top of him. Suddenly the room exploded into violence and imps and Thun’Cera from all over the station ran to the bar to help out the comrades.
***
McCall fiddled with knobs and switches, Drake watching in mute fascination, a Knee-high pile of Trizzka below them. Screens displayed data quickly too, quick for Drake to follow, but slow enough for the deformed mass that was McCall as he kept typing and building the program needed to remove all the Trizzka from the ship.
“There!” shouted McCall, a look that may have been satisfaction, but could only be described as gunky, on his face.
“You’re done?” asked the pilot in amazement.
“Yeah, close your eyes” McCall instructed before the interior of the ship was engulfed in a blinding light.
***
Jack hated to miss out on a bar fight, but he wasn’t about to stick around for the aftermath of this one. He headed back toward the storeroom passing small fights breaking out throughout the station as Thun’Cera and imps heard of what was happening elsewhere.
The secretary would be watching, waiting for his move. As The captain arrived he noticed the guards had not moved. Jack stumbled up to them, gasping for air, “Th-the Thu- Thun-,” he stammered out. It was all that was needed as the men rushed down the hall toward the bar. Straightening himself up, he turned down a different direction and sauntered back to his ship.
When he entered he was surprised to not find a single Trizzka, he spent a few minutes looking around before looking at McCall, “I give up, what you do with them?”
McCalls response may have been a smile, but it was a gurgle that turned the captain’s stomach.
“Nevermind,” said the captain. “I don’t care enough. Let’s just get out of here and get our money, hopefully we’ll have enough to get you back to normal.”
***
As the Morningstar sailed away from K6 station, the crew of the Engagement were collected before their commander, the man whose name Jack thought was Jerk.
“I want to know who started!” said the captain, “I’m waiting.”
He turned to the ship’s hotheaded tactical officer, “Jones,” he said “I know you, you started it didn’t you?”
“No, sir,” replied the young man.
“Who did?” asked the commander astonished.
“I don’t know, sir,” was his only reply.
“I don’t know, sir,” the commander repeated with some cynicism. “You’re all confined to quarters until further notice, dismissed. Not you, Montgomery” the commander said stopping the engineer as he turned to leave.
“You were supposed to prevent trouble, Mister Montgomery” the commander told the engineer.
“aye, commander,” Montgomery replied looking down and away, slightly ashamed.
“Who threw the first punch, Montgomery?”
The engineer hesitated, not really sure how to answer, he looked around for a few moments before locking eyes with his commander, and admitting, “umm, I, did, commander.”
“You did, Mister Montgomery?!” the commander’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What caused it, Mister Montgomery?”
“They insulted us, sir!” he said defensively.
“Must have been some insult.”
“Aye, it was.”
The commander shook his head in disbelief, “You threw the first punch.”
“Jones wanted to,” said the engineer, “but I stopped him.”
“You sto-, why did Jones want to start a fight?”
“The Thun’cera sir, umm, is this off the record?”
“No this is not off the record,” clarified the commander.
“Well sir, the uhh,” continued the engineer, “they called you a sauntering, blustering, imperious, tyrant with delusions of godhood!”
“I see,” replied the commander whose name might have sounded like smirk, “and after they said all that, you punched him.”
“No, sir.”
“No?” the commander asked in surprise.
“No, I didn’t. You told us to avoid trouble.”
“Oh yeah,” said the commander a bit confused.
“I didn’t see it was worth fighting about.”
The commander was now slightly insulted, but now quite perplexed.
“After all we’re big enough to take a few insults,” Montgomery persisted. “Aren’t we?”
“What was it they said that started the fight?” the commander asked.
“They called the Engagement a Garbage receptacle!” proclaimed the engineer with the all the pain of one who has received a grievous insult. “Sir.”
“That’s when you hit the Thun?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You hit the Thun, because they insulted the Engagement, not because they-”
“Well sir, This was a matter of pride.” Said the engineer.
***
Much later, the Morningstar makes it’s way back to Omega station. Jack finds Sam sitting at the same table the captain had last seen him.
Jack sat down across from the man, a large smile across his face. “So,” he said, “I’ve delivered your package.”
“That you did,” replied Sam refilling his drink from a bottle on the table.
“That completes our deal,” said the captain rather hopefully.
“Normally it would.” clarified Sam taking a drink.
“Normally?” asked Jack more out of curiosity than surprise.
Sam finally looked Jack in the eyes.“Do you know what a Trizzka is?”
“No?”
“It’s an annoying pest of a creature that reproduces quite quickly, especially when they have food.”
Realization dawned on the captain. “Are they small ugly furry creatures, with large eyes?”
“That would be them,” confirmed Sam taking another drink. “It seems,” he continued. “That a large amount of them suddenly appeared inside the storerooms holding the septatriticale. They consumed the entire stock. My contact at the station was almost suffocated by them when he opened the door to add my altered grain into the stock. The commander of the Engagement, Murk or something? he blamed it on a trader that was peddling the things on the station. He tasked the man with clearing the entire station of the things.”
“Okay, well I don’t see-” started Jack before Sam interrupted him to continued.
“My contact on the station, found there was an energy surge from your ship, just before all the Trizzka appeared in the stockrooms. It was missed by the imperials, but my agents have a higher attention to detail.”
“Ah,” said Jack.
Sam finished his drink, and looked the captain in the eye once more. “You can understand why I’m not going to pay you the rest of the promised amount. Even still,” Continued Sam as he got up from his seat in as awkward a manner as when he took the seat before. “I like your style. It takes incredible skill to fail that spectacularly at a job you already completed. You’ll hear from me again.” With that Sam left.
***
Jack returned to his ship perturbed, “McCall, what did you do with the Trizzka?” he asked the mass that was once a man.
McCall Glumped, “I teleported them into some large rooms on K6.”
“You activated the teleporter? You know how much energy that costs? That’s going to be our entire payment to refuel!”
“But,” argued McCall, “I thought the payments would cover it, no trouble.”
“They would have, had you teleported the Trizzka directly on top of the grain!”
“I didn’t mean to.”
Jack just sighed and fell into his chair, “Just get us out of here,” he said to Drake.
“Anywhere special?” asked the pilot.
Jack just stared out into space for awhile. “Distant point station.” he said after a while, “I’ve heard it’s basically a paradise, and I could use the rest.”
And so the crew of the Morningstar set out once again. Little did they know the dangers that awaited them, but that is a story for another time. For now we’ll let the crew relax, they’ve earned it.