Page 26 of Life-Debt

The Veloc had done more than just add new cargo containers to my bay; they’d given me advanced units, the kind I cried over upon their discovery from joy one was finally mine.

The case I carried might draw unwanted attention, but then again, any attention in the black market counted as unwanted. The wise would honor the rules.

I wouldn’t mess with them, they wouldn’t mess with me.

Once inside the station, gravity kicked in, although my suit informed me they no longer had a functional life support system. I chuckled at the signs the market would be moving on. Knowing Carthello, he would be the first to know it was time to leave but the last to actually do so.

I headed for his regular haunts, and the smuggler and operator did not disappoint, slithering in my direction with a new set of snake coils to go along with the rest of his modifications. He flashed a series of numbers at me with his fingers, and I connected to the frequency.

“I’m surprised you’re here,” Carthello stated, and his voice had picked up a rather bubbly quality since the last time we’d spoken. “News on the wire is hot for you. You have captured the attention of a Veloc clan.”

“Emerald Crests?” I replied, chuckling. “I was told to run to make it interesting.”

“Ah. You are aware they find you interesting, then?”

“They’re no problem. They get along with Pandora, and they’re not bad for huge predators. How dare me for impressing their younglings and teaching them the glories of space. I’m a terrible influence. I might run a high risk of being romanced by some Cremora Deltans or their Veloc cousins. I recovered the cousin of a Veloc from a derelict. He survived to tell the tale. I tried to impart I had zero interest in life-debts, but Veloc do not listen when they’ve decided something, I’ve noticed. It’s no matter. I do have an important matter to discuss in private.”

“Follow,” he ordered, and he guided me deep into the belly of the dying beast. “You’re lucky. We’re leaving in a month. I’ll give you the coordinates for the new spaceport. We’re trying something new.”

I laughed at the whole idea of black market ops trying something they considered to be new. “What, you’re going legal?”

“In part.”

Nice. “You can sign me up for your legal operations—for a price.”

“That is actually why I’m rather glad you made an appearance. I would like you for our legal operations. You’ve the cleanest record we’ve seen.”

“Not so clean right now.”

“Ah. Trouble?”

“In plenty. It’s not something I did, but I would like to clear a Cremora Deltan of a crime his crew likely did.”

“What kind of crime?”

“In private.”

He waved a few tentacles, which I translated to mean the frequency should be private but he couldn’t guarantee it. We descended into the former engine room of the station, and my suit informed me atmospheric conditions were suitable for life.

Carthello removed his clear, domed helmet first, and I followed his example. “No secrets will leave this room.”

“I want to call in your debt to find out who bought a shipment of core shiftgems from planet busters. I have a lot of stones I found in the derelict that were being smuggled; the Deltan I want to clear had no idea they were on board. I suspect they were snuck in, the smuggler realized he couldn’t get them out or he was scheduled to have the ship robbed, and things didn’t work out. The Deltan I’m clearing was put into stasis, and I found the core crystals in the cargo bay, disguised among the cargo—on top.”

“Loaded last, after the inventory manager had finished work and was closing up.”

“Yes. The Deltan is the inventory manager from what I understand. He is utterly unsuited for your line of work. He spent our quarantine period desperately learning how to fix engines.”

Carthello made a gesture to respect the dead, and I mimicked him. “His first bad run, then.”

“Almost his last. They were inexperienced with stasis and overdosed him with the sedative. I was able to revive him with no harm done, but it was a little testy.”

“For you to say it is testy, it was a worry indeed. You became attached to this Deltan.”

“I even gave him an idiotic name based on his planet so he wouldn’t become a real person. It turns out I have made mistakes, but at least I can clear my conscience—and his home world—of wrongdoing. Assuming, of course, you can help me track the sale of the shipment.” I set the crate down, opened it, and pulled out the invoice slip. “Amateurs.”

Making use of one of his tentacles, Carthello claimed the sheet. He whistled, followed up with some hoots. “Yes, this is a trackable shipment. I can give you everything. Who. What. Where. When. And yes, the why. You are correct, these were from a planet busted shipment. The paper is imprinted. You cannot read it, but I can. They were to be used to sabotage the sovereignty of a planet.”

“Cremora Delta 005-26?”