Gaylen did get himself another drink, vowing to finish this one more slowly. His resolution was doing rather well when another person ascended the stairs and focused on him.
It was a woman, he decided, although covered with baggy clothes, a baggy hat and a scarf over the lower part of her face. The amount of covering made him a touch nervous, even if Eldin sending someone after him in public on such short notice seemed unlikely.
But as she got closer he noted the golden skin tone and relaxed, then relaxed further as she tucked the scarf down.
“Ah, Kiris,” he said.
“Gaylen,” she replied, and sat down.
“I didn’t know you were in these parts.”
“Well, I am. I heard you were hiring.”
“I am. Starting my own crew, finally.”
“Hello Kiris,” Jaquan said over the comm.
“Me and Jaquan,” Gaylen added.
“I take it you’re with the ship,” Kiris said to the communicator, and a smile flashed briefly on an otherwise dour face.
“Of course I am. It says hi, by the way.”
“I heard you were going solo,” Gaylen said to her.
The comment seemed to make her a touch uncomfortable.
“It just didn’t work out,” she said. “Too boring. Where are you headed?”
“The Nearer Fringe.”
“And that’s all you’re going to give up?”
“It’s a pretty delicate matter. So, yes.”
Kiris just nodded. She understood how these things worked.
“800 Gybos upon completion,” he added.
She nodded again.
“I could do worse than that.”
“But I’m not expecting to have any locks broken through,” he said.
“Hmm.”
The woman silently took him in with piercing eyes that perfectly matched her skin and hair.
“Are you expecting trouble, though?” she asked meaningfully.
“I’m not going to look for it,” he said. “There’s a chance it’ll look for me, though.”
He shrugged.
“It honestly depends on factors beyond my control.”
“But you can control what kind of people to take on board,” she said. “And you know that I’m experienced, and I keep my head cool. And out on the fringe... well... you never know what kind of skills you’re going to need.”
“All valid points,” he admitted. “But Kiris... I really need this run to go smoothly. So no independent acquisitions on any of our stops. Alright? I don’t want any extra complications.”
There was some dissatisfaction on her face, but he suspected it had more to do with her general dislike of being given rules.
“Simple enough,” she said, though her voice didn’t quite match her words. “So I’m on board?”
He held up the comm.
“Let’s exchange. I’ll let you know.”
“Being all professional?” she said, and flashed another momentary smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Hopefully.”
They exchanged, and she left.
“See you,” Kiris said as she descended.
“It’s a day for unusual subtypes,” Jaquan commented.
“It really is,” Gaylen replied. “But then this whole planet is a thoroughfare.”
“True.”
“What do you think?”
“Well... having at least one known quantity on board is a plus,” Jaquan said.
“That it is.”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“Is she any less grumpy, though?”
“I wouldn’t say so, no. But she does have her reasons.”
“Sure. But you know how important morale is in cramped quarters.”
“Yes.”
Gaylen thought things over in silence for a few moments.
“But it’s just the one trip,” he then said. “We can re-hire her at the end of it, or not. Depending.”
“I don’t have any real problem with that,” his friend replied. “Just laying the facts out.”
“Yes. But there’s worse out there than ‘grumpy’.”
Some of the other patrons had left, leaving him more alone in the immediate area. So he finally reached down and discreetly picked up Eldin’s gun.
# # #
Up the steps came one of the ugliest men Gaylen had ever seen who didn’t have some flat-out deformity. His jutting ears and crooked nose were completely out of proportion to the rest of the head, and the eyes looked just about ready to pop out of their sockets. The beard reached his chest and the hair went down his back, both shaggy, black and streaked with grey, and what could be seen of his skin was quite coarse and almost as pale as the Dwyyk.
Over to the table he strode, feet stomping and long arms swinging like pendulums beneath broad shoulders.
“You hiring, dagi?” the man asked bluntly in a rough voice and extremely accented Gyvo.
“I am, yes,” Gaylen said neutrally.
“Where?”
“The Nearer Fringe.”
“Ah!” the man exclaimed loudly. “You want me.”
“Why don’t you... sit down?” Gaylen suggested.
The bug-eyed man just moved over to the chair and gripped the back of it with large hands even coarser than his face.
“Right. Well. Yes. I’m doing a run into the Fringe. You’re from there?”
“From Gana-Ko-Mua,” the man replied. “Outer Fringe, dagi.”
“Oh, really? You’re certainly a long way from home.”
Gaylen tried to place the name he’d spoken, but predictably came up empty. One really didn’t see many of these people, even on the lanes. There was nothing to be had that far out worth braving the dangers.
“Iv,” was the leaning, ugly apparition’s only reply.
“Right. Tell me why I should hire you.”
“Flying many years,” the man said. “All long Mandik Arm, Tivin Expanse, out and back.”
“So you know the further lanes?” Gaylen said.
“Iv, braga. Speak Barda, Peneplik, Kanakkik.”
Gaylen nodded slowly as he absorbed this. Those weren’t useful languages under normal circumstances, but out in the deeper reaches they were very useful.
“Bers,” the man said and thumped his chest, and after a moment Gaylen realised it was an introduction. “Need me.”
“And why is that?”
“Bad gulu out there, dagi.”
Bers’ eyes somehow got even wider, and he leaned forward a bit more. Gaylen supposed it was his idea of a meaningful look.
“Need strong wari. Strong bao.”
“I’m going to need you to translate that, my friend.”
“Wari!” Bers said loudly and poked Gaylen’s heart with force he tried not to let bother him. He had a feeling his table was getting stared at again.
“Bao!”
The man reached down and gripped the underside of the table, then lifted it up off the floor. And since Gaylen’s chair was attached he went up too.
“Yes, alright, alright, thank you,” Gaylen said. “You can stop.”
Bers put him and the table back down, then simply stood and waited for a reaction. Gaylen felt a touch lost. But the table and chair had to be at least half his own weight, and the man’s face had clearly been subjected to repeated impact tests.
“You look like a fighter,” he said after a bit of silence.
Bers parted his coat, revealing a thick, old-style armoured chest piece. It had been repaired multiple times. He undid it and pulled away the shirt underneath. His torso was decorated with scars from cuts, burns and what Gaylen guessed to be animal maulings. Then he pulled up both of his sleeves, showing more of the same. Then Bers reached for his belt and finished dropping his pants before Gaylen could put his hand up.
“Right, right. I see you’ve been through the mincer.”
“Mm!” was the response, accompanied by a sharp nod.
“Do you have weapons?”
“Mm!”
“The pay is 800.”
“Mm!”
“In Gybo rils.”
“Mm!”
Gaylen took Bers in for a few breaths, drumming his fingers on the table.
“Look, just give me your comm and I’ll... think it over.”
The man turned out to actually have a comm, and it even worked. After the exchange he left without further ado, walking with that odd swinging of his limbs.
“What just happened?” Jaquan asked.
“I don’t really know.”
“He sounded like a parody of Outer Fringe freaks.”
“Parodies sometimes get it right,” Gaylen said.
“But he looks fierce though, does he?”
“That he does,” Gaylen admitted with some reluctance. “And scary faces can come in handy.”
“Any thoughts on those languages?”
“Well, we aren’t just hiring for the one run. Those who work out I’m hoping to retain for more work. And this fellow does seem like he would be useful on the further lanes, if we ever find ourselves there.”
“IF, yes,” Jaquan pointed out. “Though there’s limited use in a translator whom you can barely understand.”
“True. But there is definitely use in someone accustomed to violence. If only as insurance.”
“Yes. Would you say that’s the deciding factor?”
Gaylen thought about sharing tight quarters with that man for at least two weeks.
“Let’s... see how many others take the bait.”