Hopefully this decision is better than the last three missions he decided we should accept, Avienne thought, almost smiling. Her brother’s voice broke through her musings.
“How much are we talking about?”
The man reached inside his cloak. Avienne tensed, her fingers grazing the hilt of one of her throwing knives.
He pulled a pouch free from his cloak. Avienne focused on his other arm in case the pouch was intended to distract them.
Her brother opened the pouch, and she heard his breath catch as he looked inside it. From the corner of her eye, she saw something sparkle. Lonil diamonds would give off that light.
“This is a down payment. Bring her safely to Lockor and I’ll double it.”
“That’s a king’s ransom!” her brother hissed.
“I know.” the man said, his voice distant.
Ardin shot his sister a quick look. She shrugged and grinned. It had been a while since they had made good money. How difficult could it be to protect one girl and get her safely to her destination?
Her brother smiled. “What do we need to know?”
CHAPTER 3
The docks of Harbour Bay were littered with ships, from single pods to large commuter and freight vessels. Located on the remnants of the old bay that had once housed the biggest trading stations, the Harbour Bay docks were the perfect portrait of Collar. Everyone was simply passing by, all social classes and walks of life mingled without pause, and so many non-natives travelled the streets that a blue-haired Collarian was a rare sight.
Strolling amidst the various merchants pushing their wares and fortunes on the travellers, Layela carefully inspected her surroundings. She was intent on avoiding all Solarian soldiers and surveillance equipment, not wishing to test their determination to keep her on Collar. Thankfully, the nature of Collar did not encourage Solari mingling too closely — the strategically located planet stood at the centre of three major solar systems and relied on trade.
Of course, as with all other trading planets, smuggling had become the norm. The Solarian Government, in a rare show of wisdom, had put very little effort into stopping the illegal trade, just enough to appease the merchants from their other planets. In actuality, the government funded quite a bit of the smuggling, hoping to acquire cheaper merchandise than their own taxes would allow.
Layela navigated the crowded streets and wished she could see green again, could touch a silken petal and smell life blooming around her. But Collar’s vegetation was sparse, the darkness too great and the development too dense to allow for any life other than its own. Instead of the carefully chosen blooms of her shop, her senses were now assaulted by hanging meats, ale and sweat. She quickened her pace, hoping to soon find a suitable ship. The sooner she left the planet and found Yoma, the better.
She spotted a small bar, tucked away from the rest of the merchants, its doors kept closed and its facade uninviting. Perfect. Having grown up on the streets, even though on a different planet, Layela knew how to recognize certain areas. A dark bar where few were invited and even fewer questions were asked probably held the ride she was seeking.
She readjusted her pack and approached the door. Unzipping her coat, she let the pommel of her gun, tied at her waist, show a bit. Weakness and vulnerability would not be assets in this situation. She wished the weapon didn’t feel so heavy, the weight tugging at whispering visions.
Without hesitation, Layela opened the door. Her eyes, already used to the dark landscape of Collar, quickly adjusted to the darker room. She walked to the bar, her head held high but avoiding eye contact. Nobody needed to think she was looking for someone in particular. Too many people in here would take offence to being recognized.
“Something I can do for you, miss?” the barkeeper asked without looking up from the glass he was pouring.
“I’m looking for transport off the planet,” she answered casually.
He looked up and leaned in, foul breath coating her face as he spoke. “Where to?”
She fought the urge to back away. “Anywhere with a safe landing.” She slit her eyes and took a step closer, trying not to breathe in his stench. “And no ‘hidden fees.’”
He responded with a gapped smile and an appreciative look down her shirt. Layela’s cheeks felt hot as she straightened her shoulders and forced her shirt to hug her body again. The man’s smile widened, and she swore she could smell his breath escaping through the holes in his teeth.
The door swung open and shed light into the dark room, both Layela and the barkeeper looking back at the intruders, a melee of young scraggly youths laughing heartily and calling for ale. The barkeep ignored them and focused on Layela again, the teasing gone from his eyes.
“Got passport?”
She nodded to him. She did have a passport. It did seem valid, but with the limited time and money Josmere had taken to acquire it, she doubted it had been entered in the databases. That was riskier business, with longer delivery time and more expensive work. A legally-run operation would do a background check — something she wanted to avoid.
“Ship leaves in half an hour, through the back,” the barkeeper said, offering her another gapped smile as she tipped him. She walked through the back door, her hand on her gun. Inanimate goods were not the only profitable trade in this area.
The ship was in the next room, on a small landing pad. A boy stood at the door, all grins as he glanced at her passport and accepted her money. It amounted to most of the proceeds from the first day’s sales, and she cringed. She hoped Josmere could use her talents of persuasion to make up for the loss.
The shuttle seemed to be rusting before her eyes. She held back the urge to touch one of the large corroded
