Express Delivery

Neira eyed the identity readouts. "I'm impressed," she said, nodding respectfully. "You keep on surprising me."

"I have more, if you want."

"What, a hot quickie under my desk?" She reached for the top buttons of her blouse. "I'm game."

"Not quite. I've been pretty busy these past three months, hauling tons of Sand Dragon or flour and whatnot. Long hours, not much to do. Gets a man thinking."

"My weapons detector didn't go off when you entered. So this is no attempt at a revenge murder, is it?"

"Far from it. I'm here for a business proposal."

Neira laughed and actually clapped. "Delightful. Please, by all means."

"Do you like being a crime lord?"

"That's an odd conversation gambit." Neira looked thoughtful. "All things considered? It's a shit job. Having enough power to scare the shit out of people is nice, but the rest? All the job-related paranoia can be mind-numbing. It was fun when I built up the operation, but now I feel more like a fucking accountant. It's ...boring."

"Therefore your particular hobbies, I'd guess."

"That's pretty... insightful, coming from you. Are there tentacles in my future?"

Now it was my turn to chuckle. "I could hook you up if you wanted. But I'm not a Faceless. Why does everyone keep asking that?"

"You've changed, Sal. Quite significantly." Neira undid the top button of her blouse and fanned herself. "I thought I knew you. This new unpredictability makes you irresistible."

"You'll probably not like my offer."

"I'm listening."

"Go legit. Leave the Scorps."

"Where is the offer? That's not an offer, that's a death sentence."

"Really? You recently usurped a rival boss and absorbed his cell. You bought out his mining corp and you're still running a successful car dealership. How much do you make with your Scorp deals? Weapon smuggling, knowing you."

"And drugs. Don't forget the drugs," Neira said, eyes alight. "Normally people die when they ask too many questions."

"Well, after standing at Death's door about twelve times over the past few months, I'm past caring. So, what makes you more money?"

"Well, the Psycarium deal has been awarded to a less... controversial firm, so I moved my assets a few systems over to dig for titanium, uranium and a whole lot of other -'ums'. Not quite retirement money, but a steady income."

"More or less than weapons and drugs?"

"Together with my car dealership, it about evens out. Why is that so important?"

"I happen to know a few people looking desperately for a trustworthy mining outift. Combat capable if possible, because some of the really good claims are in Pirate Haven." I reached across the table and opened another file on the chip which had my med scan on it. "Here are preliminary prospector scans of ten systems. My people will happily trade these ores for Sand Dragon, glass, quartz and whatever production they can get going with the raw materials you'll provide."

Neira scrolled through the reports, whistling through her teeth. "It would take years to stripmine even half of these rocks," she muttered. Then she opened a calculator app and crunched some numbers. "I would need at least two more mobile processing plants and tons more diggers."

"Liquidate your drug and weapon money," I suggested. "Easiest laundering job ever."

"And it's almost risk-free, compared to the alternatives," Neira muttered. "You would make a scary crime lord, Sal. You obviously picked the wrong profession."

"Nah. I'm just a simple freight runner who happens to know the right people. Will you do it? Because I'm only allowed to deal with legit people."

"An interesting thought. You are hopefully aware how legit corporations are almost as crooked as the Scorps are? We simply don't hide our ugly face behind a mask of supposed consumer-friendliness while simultaneously fucking them with a spiky bat up the ass. We go right for the ass." She bared her teeth.

"I'm not telling you how to run your outfit. I'm just suggesting you don't need the Scorps to get whatever you want."

"And it seems you don't need me to get back on your feet. Almost a pity." Neira sighed. "You know what? I'm bored of weapon smuggling. And I think I could use a break from senseless violence. I'm in. Where do I sign?"

The End -- for now.

I hope you enjoyed this twisted little fantasy of mine. Let me know if you did. Hell, let me know what you did not like. I can only improve as an author through constructive feedback. Simply dropping a 1-star score doesn't do squat in that regard. Thanks for spending your time with my work.

(c)Blind_Justice 2020