Do Unto Others

[Rusty]

"Oh, nothing. You didn't call him, if that's what you're worried about."

No mere mortal would be able to keep standing in Rusty's shoes. It was all he could do not to keel over. The only reason Rusty didn't was the pile of dishes that had to be washed. Normally the Captain was on her own for this sort of thing, as he didn't eat, but he was having a hearty laugh at her expense just as soon as he could beat feet to the cargo hold. It was only fair.

In the mean time, he decided to change the subject.

"So, got us any more work? I've got another three weeks before the shop opens up. That's plenty of time for a few more of these milk runs."

 

[Malia Afredane]

The relief washing over her made her look even more tired. She turned her attention to what was left on her plate, finishing the steak and her tea. The IV was nearly done and she was feeling loads better, not completely over it but good enough that she could be away from her bed for the time being. She let the fluid finish, then closed the clamps and pulled the needle out. She winced at the pinch and licked the drop of blood left on the back of her hand.

She shrugged and carried her dishes to him at the sink.

"There is a request for an arms deal that I have been dodging on Naboo. I have no other excuses to postpone now as there is nothing else out there that will be as profitable. It means taking a couple meetings that will be like shoving splinters and lemon juice under my nails."

 

[Rusty]

"Ouch."

Most of the time, the Captain was pretty amiable about such things, which meant there was a hitch somewhere in here. If she didn't want to sit through the meetings, it probably meant some sort of personal business was tangled up in it. Oh well. She'd just get drunk and he'd have to nurse her back to health yet again. Honestly, it was all so routine by this point that he wouldn't have batted an eye, if he had one.

"I didn't think Naboo was big in the arms trade, but sure, we can take it. Is this going to call for any special precautions?"

 

[Malia Afredane]

"Not that I am aware of. I think the meeting was requested there because it was the last place someone would think to put a meeting like that. Naboo is the host because they are friendly to the party in question."

She rested her head on the cool metal of the bulkhead, watching him finish the last of the cleanup.

"I think someone is pushing my Balmorran connection. Honestly, I'd rather just steal crap and sell it. It comes with less of a conscience."

She looked towards the cockpit and shook her head. She wasn't flying anywhere tonight. She trudged back to her bunk.

"We can get out of here in the morning. I'll radio on the way and I can get a new suit in Theed before I have to sit through this."

 

[Rusty]

"Works," Rusty said as he put away the last of the dishes.

"It's not like we've got a whole [bleep] of a lot else to worry about."

Once all the dishes were up and the table cleaned off, Rusty sat down with his revolver and began to break it down. He set a disposable cloth on the table, so Mal couldn't complain about getting gun oil on it.

"You planning on going out tonight?"

 

[Malia Afredane]

"Hell no, I think I broke myself last night. I'm going to try not to give you any more blackmail material."

She plopped down on her bed, the door still open, as she pulled out her datapad and checked her com history. She did not make or receive any transmissions dealing with Kairon. Part of her relaxed. The other part of her soured. She was a complete coward when it came to guys unless she was loaded out of her mind. Otherwise, she just made a mess of things. Actually, she made a mess of things either way. She told herself that being alone protected Rusty and he protected her. Deep down it was a great excuse to not even bother to try.

Growing up, her mother never really loved anyone either. Mal wondered sometimes how she could have had her all by herself but Izzy made sure Mal knew she was her world. She never seemed to need anyone else. But the loneliness managed to show through every now and then. With that kind of role model, it was hardly surprising to see Mal taking after her.

She looked up, listening to Rusty break down a weapon. There was a telltale series of clicks and metal on metal friction that came with cleaning an old slug thrower. When he had nothing else to do, Rusty meticulously cared for his weapons and hers as well.

"You wanna do my rifle when you're done? She's been sitting and probably could use it."

 

[Rusty]

"Yeah, bring it on over," Rusty said as he deftly removed Gertrude's barrel. It was showing some signs of wear. It would last through this mission just fine, and probably the next ten after that, but he definitely planned on making a new one once he settled down in the shop. The cryogenic cooling jacket did wonders for barrel life, but even it had its limits when dealing with the extreme forces involved.

The bolt looked fine, which was excellent news. It was almost brand new, after the stresses from firing had warped the last one enough to jam Gertrude solid. Fortunately, that had been on a firing range, so no harm was done to anything aside from the Shard's ego. One of the shooters on the range had been nice enough to suggest a grade of durasteel rarely used for anything other than drive components that should stand up just fine, assuming one had the equipment to mill it.

There was some signs of laser scoring in the channel that sent the blaster gas into the firing chamber, but that was to be expected. He had several pre-made sleeves on hand that could be swapped out at a moment's noticed.

It didn't take long to give the big girl all the love and attention she needed. A couple of fresh parts, a coat of oil, and she was good to go.

 

[Malia Afredane]

Mal laid her rifle across the other end of the table from him while he finished up working on Gertrude. There was a quiet moment while she watched him work.

"I've received another invitation from Corellia."

She waited for the string of bleeps to come. Corellia meant her estranged father. He had popped out of the ether a couple year prior and every once in a while, he extended an invitation for Mal to come to Corellia for a meeting. There had been 2 so far. Both of them were awkward as hell and accomplished nothing. Mal wasn't feeling particularly optimistic that anything would be different. She also never told Izzy that she knew the truth now.

"I'm putting it off as long as I can. So yeah, Naboo first and then every other job in the 'verse so I can refuse to go to Corellia."

 

[Rusty]

"Suit yourself, Captain."

He knew she'd go to Corellia. Some part of her was unable to stay away from the truth forever. Each time she went, she came back surly and stayed that way for weeks, and they'd stay away from the Five Worlds for months before, inevitably, something would come up and they had no choice but to stop by. And her dad always knew when they were in the system, somehow.

It was a little creepy, to be honest.

One day, Rusty was going to kill that man.

"You got anything else you need to do before we lift off?"

 

[Malia Afredane]

"Not really. If you're keen on going now, we can. Otherwise, we can wait it out 'til I'm over this hangover and I'll fly us out."

Rusty wasn't in a hurry, he was cleaning gun. This was his R&R. Mal wasn't going to take that away from him. Droid body be damned, he still needed a mental break from things just like an organic. Time and silence allowed him that peace to decompress.

When she woke refreshed and well rested the next day, he was still in a recharge cycle in his room so Mal fired up Gracie and took to the heavens. She was reading a trashy romance as they sailed through hyperspace, sitting sideways in the pilot's seat, her legs draped in the limited space between the seats bolted to the floor. The lines of bright blue streaked past the windows and played across the pages of the book in her hands, a relic she found in a flea market and had to have. There was a whole box of them. Paper books. The novelty of it was something she found quaint.

She heard him stirring in the back and she called down to him.

"Rise and shine!"

She was entirely too chipper for someone that hung over the day before.

[member="Rusty"]

 

[Rusty]

Rusty might rise, but it'd take a [bleep] of a lot more than coffee to get him to shine.

"How the [bleep] are you so chipper," he muttered under his metaphorical breath. "Half dead yesterday, bright as the sun up Kulu's pointy-hatted [bleep]hole..."

A steady stream of muted invective interspersed with ear shattering bleeps issued forth from his cabin for nearly an hour before he emerged, disheveled and clearly not very happy. The Shard couldn't really dream, but he had something similar, and the night before hadn't been a good one.

"Alright, Captain, lets get the [bleep] out of here."

He settled down into the copilot's seat with more than a little hint of sulk about him.

 

[Malia Afredane]

"What's the matter? You took excellent care of me yesterday when I was clearly trying to break myself the previous evening. I figured you'd appreciate your job well done. I can be broody if you want, but I'm a little worn out on the whole, "everything is terrible kill it with fire" line."

She had lifted off, bringing the 3-Z around and zooming through the clouds as she raced to orbit. Back to Naboo. Quick meeting then maybe someplace a little more worthwhile. It was quiet until they made hyperspace when Mal swiveled the seat around to face him.

"I've been thinking. We're doing good lately. We're making some good deals. But we're limited by our tonnage here. What do you think of us getting a bigger ship? I don't intend to get rid of Gracie, just dock her or you can take her when you go to Dressel. I would have a crew on a bigger ship and it wouldn't put me down for a month while you're making guns."

She waited for him to weigh it out and respond, grabbing her cup of caf and sipping it.

 

[Rusty]

"That's not a bad idea," Rusty grumped.

"I mean, sure we're only two people, but we could always hire crew and hope for the best."

Running a bigger ship meant bigger jobs and bigger pay, which was always nice. They weren't cheap by any means, however. There was a huge price gap between relatively small freighters like the Wicked Grace heavy freighters. The former were literally the lifeblood of the galaxy, while the latter were primarily run by major corporations.

Getting one in decent shape, for a reasonable price, would be difficult.

 

[Malia Afredane]

"I have heard of a couple that aren't bad. We'll need to give them a once over though. Means a trip to Lianna after Naboo if you're up to it. I don't know when you have to be to Dressel."

She was surprised he wasn't trying to talk her out of a bigger ship. It would mean other people on the payroll, but it would also mean more people to help keep her in line. More money, more problems.

"If we do get a new bird, are your friends gonna fix that one up too or was Gracie a special case?"

If they needed him to be productive, they were gonna had to foot the bill. A dreadful gleam flashed in her eyes.

"If I find a real junker, are they willing to make it shine?"

 

[Rusty]

Rusty shrugged.

"Depends," he said. "The Wicked Grace wasn't too bad off when they gave her a once over. They won't waste money polishing a turd, but if we get a reasonably viable space frame, they'll give us the hookup."

From what he had been told, he and the Captain could expect a lot of support building up the legitimate side of their business. The Network figured it was a worthwhile investment to keep the Captain in their good graces. She was intelligent and resourceful, and when they had jobs that might be too difficult or dangerous for their own operatives, it was necessary to outsource. Their risk/benefit margin for in house smuggling work was pretty conservative when it came to smuggling. A smuggler might be considered a nuisance, but most governments considered them a necessary evil. A crew of Shards, on the other hand, was just asking for unwanted attention.

"They'll probably want us to run some jobs for them in return, but I've been assured that it won't be anything serious. More than anything, we'll probably end up shipping legitimate shipments of droids with the occasional Shard sleeper on board. Good work, pays well, and since everything is on the up and up, we won't have to deal with much heat."

 

[Malia Afredane]

"That's fine. I'd rather know up front and agree to it than have to be hit over the head with it in arrears. You gotta do for your people, but you're my people so if you're in with them, I might as well be too."

She shrugged and turned back to her controls, considering the consequences of aligning herself with the Shards. There were far worse people she could support. The Shards never wronged her and they gotten pretty screwed by history if she remembered her lessons correctly. They were quiet, well funded and hadn't asked for too much. Yet. There were worse crime bosses they could be in bed with.

"So, we won't get a complete beater. I'm not gonna spend my money on anything unsafe that isn't going to meet my needs. If it needs a few upgrades, and fixes, that is all I'd look for. Otherwise, fixing the new ship is gonna take another year of solid jobs on Gracie."

 

[Rusty]

"Thanks, Mal," Rusty said. His tone was the same as always, but there was something behind it that seemed a little off. He was touched.

The Shard buried the errant spike of emotion. He'd been getting those more and more the last few years, and he didn't like them. Time to do droidly things, like look at spaceships and figure out which one had just the right level of crapiness to meet their time and financial budgets. There were literally millions of listings for used ships, but most of them could be eliminated right away.

They weren't looking for anything small.

They weren't looking for a salvaged ship either. Great prices, usually came with more gremlins than any three other ships of their make and model.

Nothing that was a rebuild either, for the same reason.

Nothing with an engine output more than 10% over spec. You could get some truly astounding speed out of most freighters, but only by cutting corners elsewhere.

Same with the hyperdrive, and absolutely no aftermarket performance mods.

Overall, there were 37 factors Rusty could use to eliminate any potential candidates, any one of them being a deal breaker. There were another 89 factors that could be potential deal breakers, 443 causes for concern, and so on.

That narrowed the pool down to 15 ships, and one immediately caught his eye.

"So, you remember that Makers guy? It just so happens the estate is auctioning off his collection. Most of the stuff is out of our price range, but he had a thing for YZ-series freighters. Has three that are in decent shape and reasonably priced."

He pulled up the specs for the cheapest of the lot, the YZ-775.

"First one is a YZ-775. 400 tons of cargo, minimum crew of 8. Pretty heavily armed for a ship its size, expecting to auction for around 300,000 credits."

Next up was the YZ-900.

"A little newer, a little larger. It can carry 500 tons of cargo, and can run on a minimum crew of 2. Still armed to the teeth, looking at about 325,000 credits."

The final ship dwarfed the others.

"And finally, the YZ-2500 Heavy Transport. This thing is massive. 60,000 tons cargo capacity, but it only needs ten crew, and with the right automation, we can cut it down to the two of us. Heavily armed enough to serve as a capital ship, but with one of the best cargo capacities out there. [Bleep] of a lot cheaper than a warship of its size, given that it wasn't actually meant for combat. This one is expected to go for 500,000."

That was right on the edge of their budget, but if the Network was making repairs, it was doable.

 

[Malia Afredane]

"Are you karking kidding me? There's no damn way we can get a 2500. That would wipe me out, I know for sure. We're gonna need to hire crew or buy droids and either way, that's more money. I don't know. I mean, kark yeah I want one, but it is the smart move right now?"

Rusty kept a tighter grasp on their finances than she did. She wasn't doubting that they would have the money to buy the ship, it just meant they had to hit a very specific margin in order to make sure they could fuel it up.

"I don't know what money you're doing with the Shard people, but I know we have some in savings. We've been tight lately and I don't want to see it crumble because we reached beyond our means. Let's go back to Zeltros and see what they look like. I'm all for the 775 or the 900. I will consider the 2500 if the numbers are right. That's also provided that these are still in ship shape."

 

[Rusty]

"We'll bomb that bridge when we get to it," Rusty said.

Personally, he liked the big one, but the Captain was right. Things would be tight for the first year or so, and eventually they would need crew. Automation would help a lot, but in the end, it wasn't perfect. If it came down to it, they could pick up a few droids, but that was still only a temporary measure. Shards could help, but Rusty was reluctant to spend too much time around his own people. Most tended to find his methods distasteful.

"In the mean time, let's get this business taken care of. Auction is in another three weeks, so we've got time to go and get set up."

 

[Malia Afredane]

The meetings went well, the credits were made, and then they did a job with Kairon that went so wrong that they needed counseling. Rusty left Mal on Naboo for a spell while he took care of some things for the Shard network. Mal visited her father, and that went as well as could be expected and things went sideways again. After it shook all out, there they were, back on Zeltros, flush with credits and looking at Maker's auction pieces.

Mal walked the decking of the YZ-2500, nodding approvingly.

"I think this is the nicest one in the collection. The others were ok, but this one is just...wow. You really think this isn't gonna go for way more?"

The recent money they came into was burning a whole in her pocket, but she still had doubts.