Page 2 of Found Treasure Bride

The door to the playground loomed before me, and I barrelled through it, having left it unlocked the day before when I went out to record that part of the outside and eat my lunch. Thank fuck I’d been an idiot and done that, as it saved my ass now. I went through it, vaulting over the short fence and hauled ass, zigzagging through streets and buildings. When I positive I’d lost them, I crept to the dome exit. Not seeing them anywhere, I went out it. I made it to my cloaked ship okay, so I quickly stowed the statuette and data pad safely, put my shields up, and took off.

Unfortunately, having my shields up meant I had to decloak, and either the guys I’d seen were back at their ship watching for a ship to take off, or they had buddies doing so, as they followed me up and began taking potshots at me. One of them made it past my shields just as I went to enter hyperspace. They must have hit something critical as the stars began to streak slower until I found myself dropping out.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I shouted, banging the console. I ran a hand through my short hair. “Okay, Nancy, think. First, we need to figure out where the hell we are. Then we need to find out if we where we can get to if sub-light engines are still working.” I refused to even think about possible inflicted damage to life support. I knew the hull as intact as the ship didn’t give me an audible warning telling me to suit up or head for a life pod.

“Look, see,” I told myself out loud. “Not lost, the computer knows where we are. We made it back into Paethian space, even if only just, and there’s a gas planet with a spaceport only ten parsecs away.”

I checked over the rest of my ship’s systems, relieved to find they were pretty much in order. I had damage to one thruster, my long-range communications array appeared to be toast, and my warp engines were not functional, one of the nacelles having been hit. Everything else was fine and dandy, though, so I could limp into port, and this ET could phone home. After notifying the proper authorities about the criminals back there, naturally.

2

Jakrah

“Okay, I call,” I said. I had a fairly decent hand, and everyone else had folded. I just needed to win this hand, and I’d be in the clear.

The dealer grinned, placing the house’s hand face-up on the table. It was the best possible hand anyone could ever have, three galactic spirals, three comets, and a warship. I should have known that this hand wasn’t going to break my streak of bad luck. Indeed, I was now fucked and not in the fun way.

I felt a hand land on my shoulder. I knew who it was without even having to look down to see the hand was blue. Rando Prilraziin, owner of not only this casino but the whole damned station. I would have to think fast to come up with something to stop him from taking my ship after tossing me out an airlock.

“Rando, my man! How’s it going?”

His fingers dug into my shoulder, and he leaned down close to my ear. “Poorly for you, you fangy asshole. You need to come with me to discuss our payment arrangements.”

Everyone else at the klennert tables melted away, including the dealer. Yeah, no one was going to stick their neck out for me. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Sounds great,” I said, imbuing my voice with cheer I was far from feeling. I pushed back from the table and moved to stand up. His hand fell away. “Lead the way, Rando! I hope there’s some Rigellian rum to help wash away the pain.”

He laughed. “Sure, sure. Top shelf all the way for you.”

Yeah, and he’ll add it to my bill, too.

I walked with him to his office, on the top floor of the bar and casino. I sat down in the chair his bodyguard nudged me towards, my back to the wall of windows that allowed him a bird’s eye view of everything going on in the establishment. He sat down at his desk, which was on a raised dais just high enough to make the person sitting where I was feel small. It instead had the odd effect of being called before a judge. That triggered a memory I tried to forget, so I squashed that right back down into the box I kept it in and locked that sucker uptight.

Rando folded his hands in front of him, placing them on the polished wood that made up the top of his desk. That had to cost a fair few credits, hauling actual wood this far out into the deep black, right on the border of No Man’s Land. He sighed, looking at me with a mournful expression that reeked of sheer overacting.

“Jakrah, Jakrah, Jakrah…”

“Are we going to come to an arrangement, or are you hoping that calling my name three times makes me start shitting credits out into this chair?”

His mouth turned down in a moue of distaste, his nose wrinkling. “So crude.”

“Yeah, well, blame it on having two dicks. It makes us more of a prick than anyone else.”

I knew I should shut my fucking mouth, but I’d had enough. That last hand had more or less confirmed my worst suspicions. As soon as I joined a table, any table at all, the dealer would change, and suddenly, everyone at the table lost to the house. I’d won some the first three days I was here, then poof! The worst streak of bad luck ever. It had gotten so bad that a lot of other players looked pensive when I joined the table.

“I’m not interested in your pricks, just the solars you owe me.” He gave me a smile I was supposed to believe was friendly. Yeah, no. I’ve seen kindlier expressions on Freebooters trying to board my ship, all the while thinking how tasty I’d be in some stew or other. “I have a proposition for you, one that will allow you to work off your debt and keep your vessel.”

I was positive I wasn’t going to like it, but I didn’t really have much choice, now, did I?

“I’m listening.”

He looked positively delighted. “Excellent. I have some things that need shipping. Rare collectibles that need moving to an auction house.”

“And where is this auction house?”

“I’ll give you the coordinates once you accept the shipment and are ready to leave.”

“And if I say no? Just if, mind, for my own information.”