“Maybe this should be the first day of your retirement,” Erick said.
He’d mostly meant the words as a joke, but the man grew speculative, stroking the stubble on his scarred jaw.
“Some people died here,” Yun said after a contemplative moment.
“Just one,” Erick said, his hackles rising in defense. “And it was his fault.”
He did not look toward the corridor and the corpse they’d had to jump over on the way back to the hold. Even if that man had been trying to kill him, he regretted being the cause of his death.
“Who’s to say that more weren’t incinerated in the engine room when that explosion happened?”
“Nobody was incinerated,” Jelena said, frowning up at Yun.
Erick started to add his voice to the protest, but he let his senses brush the man’s mind and got the gist of his thoughts.
“You want us to imply that you were incinerated?” he asked, studying Yun’s weathered face.
“Would you mind?” He regarded them curiously. “If the Alliance thought I was dead, they wouldn’t have any reason to look for me. And if they get most of their cargo back here, they shouldn’t feel their balls are too covered with worm suck.”
Erick grimaced at the unpleasantly vivid imagery, having no trouble imagining Demeter’s giant slobbery worms after their recent encounter with the sand snakes. At least the snakes didn’t leave snot-like drool all over a man before they swallowed him whole.
“I got a couple of accounts they don’t know about that I can survive on,” Yun continued, looking around, his eyes speculative. “Was planning on taking my ship with me when I retired, though. Or selling it. Hard to stay off the radar when you’ve got a big old ship that’s easily identified when you’re visiting ports. I was figuring to retire in some paradise core-world spot, too, not die on a mud pit out on the rim. Be easier without a ship, but I don’t suppose I can even get this one over to the lot here on Dustor to sell it.”
“We’re looking to buy a ship,” Jelena said brightly, the weary expression leaving her face.
“Oh?”
“But not this ship,” Erick said, horrified at the idea of having to repair the mess he’d made. Repairs aside, it would take forever to clean the soot off the bulkheads in the engine room. Could the craft even fly again?
“You’re not still angling for that ugly brick full of rapists, are you?” Jelena asked, proving she’d gotten the gist of what those heathens had been thinking.
“No, but one that flies would be ideal.”
“I’ve heard you say a thousand times that you can fix anything. And this ship looks like a turtle.” She waved grandly toward the craft. “You could really tell when we looked down from above. A turtle is even better than a pterodactyl.”
“How do you figure?” Erick scratched his head, having a hard time following her reasoning. Pterodactyls had been fierce predators. Turtles were… good in soup.
“Turtles are wise. And harmless.”
“Don’t you think a ship that looks fierce would be better than a ship that looks harmless?”
“Nobody would shoot at a wise, harmless ship,” Jelena said.
“Are you going to be flying it?”
“Of course.”
“Then someone will shoot at it.”
She scowled at him.
“Often, I’ll wager.”
Yun was looking back and forth, watching this exchange intently. His leg ought to be driving him to sickbay to search for bandages and drugs, but he wore a hopeful expression as Jelena and Erick spoke. He must truly want to retire and get rid of the ship—and get some money for it. The latter was likely the crux of it. If he had to stay and wait for it to be towed back to town or for someone to come out here to repair it, the Alliance could catch up with him and want to collect the cargo. And the Alliance might not be pleased to find its cargo damaged. Erick could see why Yun wanted to foist this mess off on someone else. And make some money.
Erick rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe this could work in their favor, assuming he could get the near-wreck for a good price.
“We’ll give you forty thousand tindarks for it,” Erick said, thinking of the amount they had to work with in Jelena’s parents’ account, and also thinking of the tens of thousands of tindarks that would go into repairs. Would they even be able to find replacement parts? This ship was almost as old as the Star Nomad. And Dustor wasn’t exactly overflowing with manufacturing plants.
“Forty? Adding the turret and the star cannon up above cost me more than that.”
“The turret that’s now smoking?” Erick asked mildly. “Along with the rest of the ship?”
Yun scowled.
Woofus barked.
“Your dog thinks forty thousand would buy a lot of steaks,” Jelena said.
“Woofus isn’t on the title and registration,” Yun growled.
“Are you?” Erick asked curiously.
Did smugglers worry about their ships being legally registered?
“One of my names is. Look, kid. I’ll let you have the ship for seventy-five thousand, no less.”
“Fifty-thousand.”
“Fifty-thousand is a lot less.”
Erick leaned farther out on the cargo ramp and peered toward the sky. “Hm, looks like a ship is flying by up there. Could the Alliance have tracked you down already?”
“Sixty-five thousand,” Yun growled.
“Sixty thousand, and you throw in those five thrust bikes,” Erick said.
“Four thrust bikes. Me and my damned leg need a way back to town. I’m not walking, not with all those snakes out there, and neither is Woofus.”
“Four works for me.”
“Me too.” Jelena smiled.
Erick would have to do more bargaining later to get the rental robot to take these bikes instead of the original two that had been blown up, but with luck, they could turn two in and keep two for themselves. For their new ship.
Their?
He laughed at himself. This was for Jelena and not for him, right? He
